Vox: A FanFic/X-Reader

Chapter Thirteen

I skip away and dig into my checked luggage, pulling it out. In the bathroom, I wash it because you never know if someone's been checking your luggage these days and touching your dick.

As I walk toward him, I drag it down my body. "What are you going to do with it?"

"What else did you bring with you?"

"Just this."

"Nothing buzzy?"

"Nope. If they go off, they go through everything like you're a serial killer, I've heard."

He shakes his head and gets up, walking toward me. "Now that I don't have to be envious or jealous, let's have a do-over, shall we? I promise I won't be so uptight this time." He takes the toy from my hand and runs his tongue down the length of it. His tongue swirls around the tip and I whimper.

"Why is it so hot when a man owns his sexuality?" I say with a dry mouth and goosebumps popping out on my arms.

"Because there's always a possibility you can be in the middle?" He quirks a brow at me and smirks, adding, "Not that I'd share you—unless you begged."

"You can't say things like that," I say, backing up.

"Why not?"

"My brain, my hormones can't handle it."

"Where are you going, succubus?"

"To the bed, incubus." I flash a smile.

"You like the idea of being sandwiched between me and someone else?"

"I don't know," I admit. "It's appealing, but we're too new. My jealousy is real too."

"Love, slow down. We're talking—fantasizing. I don't think I could share you. When I look at you, I think 'mine.'"

"Me too. 'Mine.'" My legs hit the edge of the mattress and I flop back, scooting toward the middle with only my lower legs hanging off.

He goes to the other side of the bed and reaches under my shoulders, pulling me slightly. Lying opposite one another, his face hovers above mine. We're close to a 69 position. He kisses me, peppering kisses on my face, then moving to my throat and chest. Pinching my nipples between his thumb and index finger, I moan. He bites them, rolling one and then the other between his fingers.

My legs writhe. I run my hands along his chest and the muscular planes of his abdominal muscles. Turning to the side, I lick his nipple, biting it gently, then harder, mimicking the things he does to me. I scrape my nails against his skin and watch him shiver as tiny chill bumps flash across his skin.

He moves down, licking a trail down my belly and around my navel. I copy his movements and he laughs, sticking his tongue into my belly button. I do the same. He bites at the flesh above my hip, tickling me, so I return the favor.

"I like this game," he says, tracing my hips with his thumbs.

"Me too," I say and add a light grazing to the pressure on alternate passes.

He nuzzles into my groin, rubbing his face against my skin, like I did during the sofa blowjob last night. I repeat it but add some warm air to it. He one-ups me and licks the crease where my thigh and groin meet. "Spread your pretty thighs, love."

Slowly, one leg at a time, I do. He wraps his forearms around the backs of my thighs and pulls them toward his chest.

I squeak and he buries his face in my pussy, licking up and down with broad, flat strokes of his tongue. He drops my thighs and spreads me open, his tongue sliding in and out of my core. I lose all thought the moment he moves to my clit.

He's so hard and I'm stroking him at a leisurely pace. I know I'm losing our game, so I refocus my attention. I wrap my lips around his cock, protecting him from my teeth until I get to the base. He slides into my throat and I say, "Mmm, mmm, mmm." The vibration undoes him. He tries to pull away, but I wrap my tongue around the head as he slides into my mouth. I hear him say, "Fucking internet," and choke on a laugh which has him wiggling around. I grab the backs of his thighs and let myself choke on him until my eyes water. When he begins bucking, I hold on tighter.

He bites my thigh, harder than I think he meant to. He spreads my juices to my ass and I squirm, rethinking things. But then I relax. He rams the rubbery practice dick into my pussy, hard and fast, and I buck into it, moaning around him.

We're a feedback loop of need and lust. He fucks me hard with it, harder than he does with his own cock, which surprises me. Maybe it's because it's smaller than him. Something to talk about later, I guess.

Using his fingers, he preps my ass. He sucks my clit into his mouth, and I get back to sucking him off. When I get him to the back of my throat, he replaces his fingers with the dildo, pushing it in and out until it's all the way in. He holds it with one hand and uses his other to work a finger into my pussy.

One hand works his length in and out of my mouth. The other squeezes and massages his balls. I slide my mouth off his dick and suck both balls into my mouth. My thumb uses the bead of precum to lube the head of his cock as I jack him.

I say, "Mmm, mmm, mmm" a few times and he rolls his hips into me. Releasing his balls, I refocus on his cock, swallowing it back down my throat in one go. He bucks into me and I like it.

He adds another finger into my pussy, working it in and out, and I feel too full. I squirm and fidget. When he moves to my clit, he adds a third finger. I don't know which way to move. Either it's too much or not enough, but I'm not sure which. I've never done the double penetration thing. Do I love it or hate it?

My hips buck and writhe. When he pinches my clit and then sucks it into his mouth, I scream around his cock, which is buried in my throat. It triggers him in the best way. He cums down my throat and I swallow, keeping him anchored to me until he settles—until I settle.

His fingers and the dildo are both still buried in me. My muscles contract again and again. When he thinks I'm done, he licks my clit again, and it starts anew. Minutes later, it's aftershocks only. He cleans up the mess with his tongue, telling me "I'm delicious," and "Taste like peaches," which makes me laugh because I've never had peaches that taste like me before.

We turn the right way on the bed. Side by side, we lay facing one another. Kissing and touching, petting and whispering, hoping and dreaming—we pretend we have forever. Maybe the fates will agree.

My eyes skate over his shoulder and land on the clock. We have five more hours before we need to be at the festival so he can help his friends. I press my hand to his cheek and say, "I hope you know how much I adore you." He smiles, wrapping me in his arms, and we fall asleep.