Chapter 357: Wanting Him More.

Chapter 357: Chapter 357: Wanting Him More.

The sun’s starting its descent by the time Khobi kicks them out.

Not because he gets sick of their company –if anything it’s been kind of nice to just hang out –but because even though he did a pretty reasonable job of cleaning himself up this morning there’s still rain and stale sweat on his skin and it’s starting to feel a bit gross.

Montrel’s pissed because of all the gold he’s lost but Gandy drags him back into the corridor, for which Khobi is grateful for because he already has enough trouble getting some privacy while he bathes.

​That being said, once he’s in the tub it actually feels kind of lonely without Binny there to fill the silence, and it’s strange washing his own hair for a change.

He wonders where he is.

​Indisposed , huh?

​Hopefully it’s nothing serious.

Binny’s sister didn’t make out like it was something bad, and he’s pretty sure she would’ve told him if it was.

​Sinking down into the tub is a somewhat unpleasant experience, but the water is the perfect just-shy-of-scalding he was looking for, and once he’s finally fully submerged a long moan of relief splits the silence of the bathroom.

Steam immediately floods his senses; filling his lungs and making his eyes water, but Khobi embraces that all consuming heat and eventually the aches begin to recede.

And as they do; as he closes his eyes and relaxes into the water with nothing but his thoughts left to keep him company, his mind starts doing exactly what he’s been trying to stop it from doing all day.

​It drifts .

​Directly into dangerous waters.

​Warm and weightless like this, with the sensations of the night before still lingering fresh in his mind and deep in his body, it’s far too to lose himself in them all over again.

To let himself be drawn back into the memories of the night before that he hasn’t been letting himself linger back on for this very reason.

His encounters back in Briyagi had been rushed; a means to an end, but it had been different with Loac; he’d loosened him up nice, learning the places that made Khobi curse him in the same breath he gasped for more like he’d been searching for them, and working them to the point of bursting.

In fact, he seemed to relish that; teasing him, and bringing him right to the edge then pulling away so many damn times that Khobi could’ve kicked him.

​It’s never been like that before.

In a lot of ways. No one’s ever moved with him the way Loac moved with him; reading his body and what he wants almost as soon as Khobi knows he wants it.

And he’s never been quite like that before. Never so consumed .

He’s wanted people, and been wanted by them, but never so badly. Never so desperately.

And while he’s always had quite the appetite when the mood strikes him, so to speak, he’s never been quite so ravenous.

And in his mind he suddenly hears the echo of the bed, creaking and beating against the wall over the sound of thunder and starts to feel the ghost of Loac’s body disturbing the still waters around him to drape over his again; his voice whispering in his ear and into his neck and against his lips.

There’s a sensitive spot just below his collarbone that Loac had uncovered in his explorations and then exploited over and over again; so deeply that the skin there is at it’s darkest and most violent shade of purple, and Khobi has no trouble imagining that his lips are back there, sucking and grazing in equal measure, breaking waves of pleasure through his body.

Eyes sunk closed, Khobi wets his lips; a low rumble starting to brew in the back of his throat and a familiar heat stirring in his blood.

​He had a dream like this, once; where Loac had waded through the hot waters of that bath in Scargga towards him, stooped in close, pressed him against the stone, and then devoured him. It had plagued him for gods know how long; tormenting him in the empty nights and whenever he let his mind wander like this.

But he knows the taste of Loac’s lips now, and the searing heat of his tongue.

His hands know the grooves of his back and the weight of his cock, and just how hard to pull his hair to make him groan his name.

He knows just how deep his fingers can reach; what they feel like curled flush against that spot inside him, and what Loac’s smirk looks like when he finds it and makes him writhe.

​And he knows what it’s like to be fucked by him; without restraint, and until he can take it no more.

​Unconsciously, Khobi’s legs shift; the memory of Loac’s weight on him prying them apart.

He imagines there are hands on him now; skimming slow and languid over his hips and down his thighs, pulling and spreading as they go.

Then there are fingers drifting up between his legs, and heavy kisses on his throat and up his jaw; just barely grazing his lips.

So light, so good, so agonisingly not enough, and Khobi has to grip the edge of the tub to stop himself from arching out of the water as those little sparks catch alight and start to burn, and burn, and hunger.

Beneath him he can feel Loac’s thighs under his hips; holding him steady and holding him ready as he pushes, then breaches, then slides inside him; so heavy and hard for him it takes his breath away.

​More. Always more.

​Khobi’s breath stutters, eyes shifting behind his eyelids. He can see the overwhelming desire for him in Loac’s expression so clearly; can feel the heat of his skin and the shape of his body so vividly from spending the night clinging to his shoulders, and running his fingers along his arms and down his chest and across his jaw.

And now the fire within him is building, rising high and violent and threatening to unleash itself upon the world and rage until there’s nothing left but fire and ash, and as he fantasizes about the heady snap of Loac’s hips driving deep up into him; filling the void he’s left and stretching him back to bursting, a groan escapes him and Khobi’s chest breaches the surface of the water, sending waves cascading over the edge of the tub.

​Pulse hammering in his chest and in his groin, and suddenly aching with that familiar, agonising need, one of his hands drifts back down into the water and skims down his thigh.

Not towards his cock, already hard and throbbing, but lower. He’s still a little loose. A little empty, even.

He’s sure if he tried, his finger would slip in without much difficulty. Maybe two.

​It’s a tempting thought.

Because for weeks now, Khobi has been fighting his body’s desire for Loac.

It’s been driving him crazy how badly his body has craved his touch; how distracted he’s been by him and how often his he’s found his thoughts turning to him.

Every time Loac’s been up in his space he’d felt those impatient sparks start to whip up into a frenzy; had found himself wanting to reach out and pull him in and down and feel his lips and his hands and teeth all over him.

How could he not? He’s fucking gorgeous.

So much so that now that Khobi’s had his hands on him he can’t for the life of him understand how he’d ever been able to keep them off him.

​You have no idea how bad I want you .

Those were the hoarse words he’d whispered to him, the first of many that had Khobi throbbing for him; his desire as laid bare as the two of them had been only moments later.

​But Loac was the one who had no idea. Because Khobi’s lust for him has been steadily rising; the ache building as pressure builds behind a raging current abruptly dammed, and it has finally reached fever pitch.

He thought that finally letting it all out would diffuse some of that.

That it would help clear his head.

​It hasn’t.

​It’s just made him want more .