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Chapter twenty-eight

Good Girl

Gem

Gem left Rusty in the living room and headed to the bathroom.

After eating all that carnival food, he knew he needed extra prep to ensure things didn’t get messy in a way he didn’t want.

So he douched, then he brushed his teeth.

He scrubbed a soapy washcloth in all his nooks and crannies until he felt clean enough, then he grabbed the lingerie he’d stashed in the cabinet earlier and put it on.

He inspected the white, lacy bralette and panty set in the mirror as he fluffed his windswept hair.

There was a pink bow above his ass with a heart-shaped, peek-a-boo cutout underneath it.

The bralette was designed for flat-chested people and hugged his upper torso snugly.

He felt beautiful and sexy and confident.

“Let’s go get our Care Bear,” he said to his reflection before he turned off the light and opened the door.

Rusty stood at the fire escape window, pane cracked to let the smoke from his cigarette out.

He’d removed his shirt but kept his jeans on, and his tail was flicking back and forth anxiously.

At the sound of the door opening, he crushed the cigarette against the brick outside, then slid the window shut.

Gem heard the shake in his fortifying inhale, and his hearts squeezed with affection.

As Rusty faced him, Gem couldn’t help but strike a pose.

He leaned back against the wall, crossing one foot over the other as he tucked his hands behind his back, ensuring Rusty had an unimpeded view of everything.

The moment Rusty’s eyes landed on him, they widened, and his pink fur fluffed up. Everywhere.

A growl rumbled in Rusty’s chest as Gem toyed with the lace bralette. “I bought this for you. Do you like it?”

Ducking his head, Rusty barked a weak laugh, like he couldn’t believe Gem had to ask. “Yeah, Gem. I like it.”

Since Rusty wasn’t moving, Gem took it upon himself to close the distance between them. He slunk towards the Pyclon, gait predatory, and Rusty’s throat bobbed. It was a rush, knowing he could affect Rusty this way with only a look and a little lace.

Toebean-to-claw, Gem smiled lecherously down at the Pyclon as he used one index finger and thumb to pinch the hinge of Rusty’s glasses, where they hooked on his pocket. He drew them out slowly, then slipped them onto Rusty’s face, all while Rusty stared at him like he was his next meal.

“So, Professor,” Gem crooned, “how do you want me? ”

Another growl thrummed in the air between them as Rusty captured Gem’s chin in one hand, drawing him down enough to whisper against his lips. “In the bedroom. Now.”

And oh, Gem was getting absolutely railed tonight, and he couldn’t fucking wait.

Without a word, Gem turned on his heels and sashayed toward his bedroom. His strutting was interrupted by a sharp slap to his ass, and he yelped in shock, gawking at Rusty over his shoulder.

“You just slapped my ass!” he said stupidly.

Rusty smirked. “You mad about it?”

Gem shook his head. “No. In fact, I hope you do it more. It just surprised me.”

The intense atmosphere cracked as Rusty laughed, and Gem beamed at him, booping him on the nose quickly before he continued his sultry strut to the bed. Before he could throw himself seductively onto the mattress, Rusty grunted in reprimand, and Gem paused, one knee on the bed.

“Supplies?” he asked casually, hands in his pockets as he propped his shoulder against the wall.

Gem’s dick gave an excited twitch as he moved to his side table and stooped to open the bottom drawer.

He might have bent over farther than necessary, just to give Rusty a show of his ass in his panties, but he wasn’t going to admit it.

He retrieved several condoms from the box, then the lube, setting everything on the table top.

Just to be a brat, he grabbed his favorite buttplug—thick and extra-long to stimulate all the right places—and added it to the pile.

The heat of Rusty’s body behind him preceded a rough palm landing on his lower back, but he still jumped at the contact, not having heard the Pyclon approach.

He straightened, but Rusty released another tsk of reprimand.

Gem froze in response. That clawed hand smoothed up Gem’s spine, following the path of thicker fuzz, and when Rusty added pressure to the middle of Gem’s back, he obeyed the unspoken command.

Bending back over, Gem rested his upper arms on the side table for balance as his middle hands gripped the edge of the wood.

Rusty purred in satisfaction as he dragged his hand back down until it rested right above Gem’s ass.

His thumb flicked the bow of Gem’s panties, then lowered to the peek-a-boo cutout, pressing to the top of Gem’s asscrack.

“I want to take these off,” Rusty said roughly. “But they look too pretty to touch.”

Jean fabric swished, and Gem’s eyes shuttered closed as two warm hands molded the globes of his ass.

Claws snagged on the lace, and Gem couldn’t decide if Rusty tearing the panties off him would make him sad or more turned on than he already was.

In the end, it didn’t matter; Rusty didn’t destroy the panties.

Fingers tapped the inside of Gem’s left thigh, but this time, Gem didn’t obey. Rusty huffed and tapped him again, saying, “Spread ’em.”

Smiling into his forearm fur, Gem said, “Make me.”

Rusty inhaled sharply, and Gem bit his bottom lip in anticipation for what the Pyclon would do.

When a stinging slap landed on the inside of his thigh, a cry born more from shock than pain burst from him, and Gem whimpered as he shifted his left leg outward.

As if in apology, Rusty smoothed his fingers over the smarting skin before he tapped Gem’s right leg.

Again, Gem refused to comply, but instead of a hard slap, Rusty’s teeth clamped down on his thigh, digging in deep enough Gem feared he might actually break skin. With a wail that was more pain than shock this time, Gem moved his right leg, widening his stance .

“Atta girl,” Rusty praised, kissing the tender bite-mark, and Gem’s dick strained against the lace holding it captive.

Rusty nuzzled the swell of Gem’s right asscheek, nibbling along the skin exposed by the cheeky-style panties.

Then he did the same to the left before he palmed Gem’s ass in his hands and squeezed.

He spread Gem’s cheeks, exposing his asshole to the cooler air, and Gem shivered.

Grinding his forehead on his arms, he groaned in frustration, pushing his ass into Rusty’s grip. “You gonna eat me out or what?” he practically growled, and Rusty had the audacity to laugh.

“I told you last week.” Rusty dug his claws into Gem’s ass hard enough to hurt. “Only good girls get their pussies eaten.”

“Oh, fuck me,” Gem whined.

Rusty tugged on Gem’s panties, gathering enough fabric to push between his cheeks, the material rough against his sensitive asshole. “Trust me, caryd,” Rusty practically growled, “I’m going to.”

Then he proceeded to lick Gem’s ass through the lace, both of them groaning at the contact. It was messy and sticky, and Gem loved every second of it. He moaned, eyes pinched shut to block out everything but the sensations of wet lace and Rusty’s rough tongue on his most sensitive skin.

When he tried to grind back against Rusty’s face, the Pyclon pulled away, breathing heavily. Gem complained wordlessly, fighting the urge to grab Rusty’s face in his hands and shove him back between his asscheeks.

“Don’t stop,” Gem ordered, but his voice was too reedy and wanton to make the command stick.

Ignoring him, Rusty rubbed the spit-soaked lace against Gem’s hole again as his other hand curled in the waistband of his panties, right above the bow. He drew the fabric down until it stretched obscenely between Gem’s spread calves. Any further and the delicate fabric would tear.

“Show me,” Rusty said, and Gem frowned into his arm fur.

“Show you what?”

“Where you want my mouth.” Rusty said conversationally, like they were discussing the fucking weather.

“Fuck you.”

Rusty snickered. “Maybe one day. Now show me.”

“You bastard,” Gem whimpered, a sliver of shame wriggling through him as he reached back with his lowest hands and spread his asscheeks wide.

“Beautiful,” Rusty purred, and Gem melted. “Middle hands on your back.”

Supported entirely by his upper arms on the side table, Gem crossed his middle hands at the wrists and settled them on his back. He didn’t dare open his eyes, not with the vulnerable position Rusty had him in, bent over, asshole bared to the room.

But then hot breath ghosted over his hole as Rusty said, “Good girl,” and a shudder wracked down Gem’s spine.

He liked being a brat, but he lived for the way Rusty said those words.

He also lived for the way Rusty spent the next fifteen minutes eating him out like he was starving and Gem was a five-course meal.

Gem held his cheeks open as Rusty’s rough tongue rasped over, then into, his ass. He moaned loudly, fighting to keep still as Rusty opened him up with his mouth. He didn’t use his fingers; his hands remained on the back of Gem’s thighs, claws digging marks into his skin.

Rusty ate his ass so long Gem thought he’d go mad from the pleasure. His brain grew fuzzy at the edges, and he thought he was talking, but he didn’t know for sure. Because the Pyclon’s talented mouth was all he could focus on.

When Rusty finally pulled away, Gem nearly wept in relief. His untouched dick was leaking, prehensiles flexing, squeezing his core. His asshole clenched around air, too empty, and he mewled.

“Are you gonna fuck me now?” he asked, though it sounded more like a plea.

“Not yet,” Rusty said hoarsely as he slid Gem’s panties back up his legs, and Gem hissed in frustration. “Stand up.”