His fixation

Chapter 8

You're a fine cook, nothing special but Cole looks at your homemade food like it's an entree at a five star restaurant. He praises each component and how they go together as if he was a judge on a cooking show. And afterwards you settle back onto the couch to watch Christmas specials and movies, though you quickly get distracted as he pulls you into his lap to kiss you.

"I have grown so fond of you." He pants in between deep breaths as he has been denying himself oxygen in order to kiss you longer. "Now I find the thought of losing you, of sharing you... Intolerable." His hand slips into your hair gripping at the scalp to pull your head back so he can kiss and suck the front of your throat leaving a trail of small purple marks. "What would it take, I wonder, to make you forget all those other boys... I'm tempted to cage you and keep you to myself forever..." He whispers possessively, his hands avariciously gripping your loose shirt. Pushing it up till his hands can slide reverently along the newly exposed skin. Once his hands reach your lower back, they move down to cup your ass. Squeezing before moving up just enough for his thumbs to slip under the waistband of your pants.

Your building lust sharply changes to alarm. You're panicked, afraid to give in completely. What if your friends are right and he is just using you, what if he just leaves you afterwards? "Slow down." You squeak out, pushing away from him, not wanting to stop but needing a moment at least.

He drops his hands, his steel colored eyes running up and down your body. No doubt he sees the way you pathetically tremble with anxiety. He holds his hands up, palms out as a gesture of surrender. He swallows the dryness in his mouth. "We— can stop. I can stop myself." He pants. His chest rising up and down in rapid breaths. His panther ears pull back and his gaze goes unfocused.

"What about an alternative?" He asks suddenly, gripping his shirt and tie tightly in his fist. He uses his other hand to brush his hair back from his face. "Hold me. Now. Hold me as though my escape would mean the doom of everything. Hold me so that I cannot breathe." He begs. You embrace him tightly, his arms wrapping around you with equal force. His head is buried in the crook of your neck as he steadies his breathing. "Yes... Your embrace is the only thing that makes me feel safe or sane."

You swallow down the desire to question him and to ask what's wrong. What dark battles he must fight internally. Maybe you shouldn't be fooling around while he's partially transformed. Especially if you're going to chicken out. Maybe you did this to him by working him up and then pushing him away. You should take responsibility and take the edge off for him. You're somewhat sure you know a way you could do that. But you've never done it before, what if you're not any good? Are you even ready for that step?

His embrace loosens enough for you to pull away, he gives you an apologetic smile. "I felt nearly consumed by the beast within me, intense emotions can do that to me in this state." He explains. You bravely set the palm of your hand against his chest, pushing it up into the wrinkles of his disheveled shirt. You could do this. You're just nervous, not unsure, not scared, not without desire, just apprehensive.

"Could I try something?" You aren't able to look at him as you ask. "To help you?" You clarify unnecessarily.

"Try what?" His voice is ragged at the edges.

"—I could... that is to say, I could try—- touching you?" Your face has never been hotter. You intended originally to offer your mouth but saying that out loud was too embarrassing. Why hasn't he said anything? You dare to look up and meet his burning gaze.

His lips parted in slight surprise. "If you're sure." He fumbles with his pants, standing up to kick them off before rejoining you. His shirt unbuttoned but hanging on him loosely with his tie, his briefs black and skin tight. Your eyes widening at the reminder of his need. "Would you prefer that I instruct you?" He offers much to your relief.

You nod, letting him pull you closer. His mouth meets yours in a deep kiss. Your tongue grazing against his teeth. He glanced at the carpeted ground in front of the couch. "You're far too good to be on the ground." He grabs a throw pillow and drops it between his legs, still not satisfied but motioning for you to take your place either way. You timidly run your hands up his thighs till your fingers touch the edges of his briefs. His bulge twitches under the strained fabric. "Don't be nervous." He encourages, rubbing over the bulge with his own hand.

Slowly you touch the material at the front of his briefs, and he lets out a breathy sound. His eyes intensely focused on your every movement. Your fingers curl around the waistband of his briefs and you pull them down. Eyes wide as he springs out. Your eyes transfixed by him. Firm and proud it's heat felt before your hand contacts it. Your hand wraps around his ridged length, its velvety texture is unexpected. Like sure you read about this kind of thing and they describe it like velvet over marble but it's a whole different thing to feel it yourself. Your stroke up, too slow to be much more than a tease but he looks mesmerized by your every action.

Your thumb swipes curiously on the sensitive space between the leaking tip of him and the bottom of his shaft. A drop of his precum dribbles down onto your hand, you use it to lube up his tip as you circle it with your thumb. This is exciting, certainly. Your heart thundering wildly in your chest and your focus so firmly on him that the rest of the world doesn't exist outside this couch. You stroke back down and then back up, from base to tip in slow curious strokes.

"I need more friction love." He says in a ragged groan. His fingers dug into the couch on either side of himself. Of course he needs more, you could never get off at such a pace. You increase your tempo, and his head falls back against the back of the couch. To watch him come undone is a treat that has you stroking faster, your free hand daring to cup his balls. His body jolts and his head snaps back up. "Take me into your mouth." He commands. Your hand freezes, eyes wide. You don't want to lose this chance to your hesitation. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth. He groans as pushes up into your mouth, hips bucking and his hands settling in your hair. "Your mouth feels so divine." He says in awe. Your tongue swirling around his tip, the mildly salty bitter fluid spreading over your tongue. It's a unique flavor like getting a splash of ocean water in your mouth. Could you take his full length into your mouth? You open your eyes to peer down at him, you're not even sure you could fit it in the place it belongs. Maybe best to try licking him more fully.

Your tongue runs along the length of him, from the base to the tip. You circle around the head, tasting and savoring him. His gaze is reverent, his moans addicting. To see him so lost in your touch is amazing, addicting even. He whispers more instructions to you. "Suck harder." He says, "Move your hand up and down, to follow your lips."

You wrap your hand around the base of him, his cock firm and hot, bringing your lips down to your hand then pulling up. Your hand sliding up after you. The way he throws his head back and the sounds he makes, the praise he keeps whispering and moaning, it's all so perfect. "You're such a good girl." He groans. "The sight of you with me in your mouth is too much." He pulls your head back till you're looking at the dribbling tip of him. His length slick with your saliva. "Open wide."

You obey of course, lips parted for him . He strokes himself in a steady rhythm, the tip of him brushing your lips and tongue. "I'm going to cum." He warns. "Drink me all down." He grunts. Salty bursts of his passion hit your tongue and you dutifully swallow it down. Saltier than his precum and silky like the foam on a cappuccino. He places his thumb on your bottom lip, pulling it down till your mouth opens again. The delight in his eyes as he sees you swallowed it all makes your core throb. Fluttering and clenching around nothing and blaming that fact on you as it encourages you to fix the issue.

He takes a long moment to catch his breath and steady himself. The hand stroking your hair slides down to caress your cheek. "You're so beautiful." He pants. With the excitement of the moment past you let out an unwanted yawn. "Why not spend the night with me?" He asks, holding back his own yawn. "Just to sleep of course." He adds on.

You nod hesitantly and he surprises you by picking you up off the ground and carrying you to his room. He sets you gently on the bed and walks off to put on some loose sweatpants. Forgoing a shirt before he rejoins you. Pulling you against him and kissing you deeply. His chest is firm and warm against you. You can't help but move your hand down enough to check for those abs you imagine he has. You swallow hard as your fingertips trace down the slightly defined muscle. "Would you like me to return the favor?" He whispers hotly into your ear. His tail caressing your hip. You shake your head, face buried against him.

"Another time." He promises.