Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

He sits on the edge of the mattress, then grasps my hips
and gazes up at me as I stand between his legs and inspect the
wound, grimacing.
He murmurs, “My own personal nurse. You should take off
your shirt, too.”
He slides a hand up my rib cage and squeezes my breast.
I’m wearing my typical sleepwear of boy shorts and a soft
cotton T-shirt with nothing beneath. He thumbs over my nipple
until it’s taut, then leans in and gently bites it right through the
cotton.
It feels incredible, but we’ve got more pressing matters to
deal with.
“I need to clean this, Kage. Quit distracting me.”
He nuzzles my breasts, inhaling the scent of my skin. He
whispers, “I missed you. I haven’t been able to breathe since I
left.”
A fizzy starburst of joy explodes inside my stomach, but I
hold firm.
“Compliments will get you nowhere. I’m gonna get some
antiseptic—”
He grabs me, tosses me onto the bed, and presses the long,
hard length of his body against mine, settling his bulk between
my spread thighs.
“Later,” he says, his voice husky with need. “Right now, I
need to fuck you. Every night, I’ve been dreaming about the
way you sound when you come. My dick has been aching for
you for weeks. I’ve been aching for you. I think you’ve put a
spell on me, little witch.”
He kisses me again, passionately, his hands dug into my
hair.
I’m torn between wanting to clean that gash in his shoulder
and wanting to feel him inside me. It’s a battle that lasts until
he shoves up my shirt and starts sucking on my hard nipples,
back and forth, one after the other.