Black: MM Kitty Play Romance

by Quin Perin

  I wanted him to fill me.

  Wanted to feel his come dripping out of me.

  Down my balls, slick. Well fucked. Sore.

  I wanted more.

  So much more.

  And he would give it to me.

  Tony

  As soon as it was over and I’d come down from my high, I pulled Dima against my side, his head on my chest. My vision still flickered with tiny little spots, making me blink to try and clear them. I stared at the ceiling again. It was dark, the light bulb catching the light from the moon.

  “Dima,” I breathed after a while, making him shift and nuzzle his face into the crook of my shoulder. He’d been so quiet that I thought he might have been asleep if not for the occasional shuffling. I’d pulled the blanket across his shivering body while I stayed uncovered. I still buzzed with heat, burning any excess calories.

  “Mh?”

  “Did I hurt you?” I asked, my voice croaking softly. I angled my head to look at him, brushing a few strands of hair off his forehead. His skin felt warm to my touch, the cat ears tilted to the side. A jolt of arousal pierced through me at the sight of them. My little kitten.

  “No,” Dima replied and lifted his head, his lips brushing across my beard. I hoped he wasn’t lying. He adjusted himself against my side, dropping his head back down. Tentatively, I trailed my hand along his spine, over his tailbone, petting him.

  “You sure?”

  He nodded with a sigh, pressing back into my touch as my fingers stroked along his ass cheeks. I smiled. I hadn’t really meant to lose control like that, but I couldn’t help it. He was just...fucking gorgeous. “I’ll get you some Oreos,” I said against his hair, inhaling his scent. He smelled faintly of cinnamon, as usual, but also a bit like me and sex.

  Dima clung to me as I tried to scoot out of bed, exhaling an elongated “Nooo.”

  Our sweat-slick bodies were entangled, his dried come on the sheets grazing against my legs. “Oreos...nightstand,” he mumbled into my neck but didn’t make the slightest effort to release me. I reached over to the little nightstand next to the bed and opened the drawer, not prepared for the interesting array of things that Dima kept there.

  An opened pack of Oreos that looked half-empty.

  A box with a dildo-shaped picture on it.

  A couple of boxes that seemed to store condoms.

  A bottle of lube.

  And...a butt plug.

  Unique collection.

  “There.” I pulled out a cookie and brushed the side across his lips. He opened up instantly, devouring the cookie in one go. “You’re one kinky guy.” I grinned, fingering the box with the dildo or vibrator...whatever it was.

  “Man, you’re slow...I thought you already picked up on that.”

  I laughed, then grabbed the box and placed it on my stomach to examine what was inside. I tried to do everything one-handed so I could keep holding him, but it was hard to manage. “Oh, look at that,” I whispered, taking out the phallus-shaped object. It was soft to the touch, bending back and forth when I pressed my thumb against it.

  “Did you find it?” Dima yawned before his lips began to take little bites on my neck. “Mmm...Oreo.”

  “Is that my new nickname?” I teased, leaving the toy on my stomach before reaching back into the open drawer to feed him another cookie. Once more, the crunchy sound of Dima practically inhaling the cookie filled the room. “And yeah, found it.”

  “It’s not as big as you,” Dima cooed once he finished chewing, one of his hands roaming across my stomach and bumping against the box I’d placed there. I was still examining the thing. I’d never used something like it before. I went rigid under his touch, fingers circling around the base, brushing across my dark blond pubes. I shivered.

  “Stop that,” I warned him.

  “Or…?” Dima snickered, grinning against my ear. His tongue flicked out, licking my earlobe.

  Oh.

  “Or I might have to abuse your tiny little ass again,” I explained, lust welling up once more. I couldn’t get enough of him. It was terrifying.

  “Oh,” Dima whimpered, stroking my thickening dick. I put the toy back into its box and placed it on the nightstand next to the lamp. Biting back a groan, I rolled my hips into his touch. His teeth relentlessly teased me, nibbling along my earlobe before his tongue swirled across it.

  “You’re so fucking greedy,” I gritted out, loving the fact that he was still horny for me.

  “I wish I could see your dick.” Dima’s breath seared hot against my ear, and I had to turn my head to the side, away from him, to avoid bursting into flames. Blood shot to my center, making my cock grow with his touch. His warm fingers pulled and pumped languidly.

  “God...I should have bought the bigger pack of condoms.” I pressed my eyes shut, breath turning ragged when Dima’s thumb rubbed across the slit of my cock, playing with the leftover come there. “But you still got some condoms. I think we’re good.” At that, I grabbed his shoulders and pinned him to the bed.

  Dima grinned, his hand still around my hardening shaft. “Nah, you gotta buy more. Not your size.”

  I dropped my forehead to his shoulder as I fucked the tight tunnel he’d formed with his fingers.

  “Fuck you and your dirty mouth,” I growled against his skin, biting down to taste him, to inhale his scent, to ingrain this moment in my memory. He chuckled beneath me, his thighs opening and shifting from under me. I glanced down. His cock was hard.

  I wanted to touch him, rock my hard-on against his, but then he whispered, “Fuck me.”

  “Dima…” I moaned while he kept stroking me so goddamn slow I was gonna lose my mind.

  “I’m ready. You fucked me open, remember?” A shuddery growl left my throat as I jumped into action. I felt for the pack of the condoms on the nightstand and—thank God—found them swiftly. With jittery hands, I pulled one out and ripped the edge off with my teeth. Dima’s hand against my chest stopped me, my heart thundering right against his palm. I looked at him. His eyes were half-shut. I was about to roll the condom on when he trailed his other hand up my shaft to the head. Encircling his fingers around my girth, he secured the condom there and told me to push forward. So I did. My dick slid through the tight ring of his fingers, his lips parting as he felt my full length, rock hard thanks to him. He rolled the latex up the shaft, making sure it sat nice and tight before he angled his legs and moved his balls aside, giving me access to his clenching hole.

  No words were spoken. Dima sucked on his fingers in the most obscene manner I’ve ever seen and then rubbed them over his already stretched pucker, leaving it glistening with spit. When he was done, I guided myself there, towering over him. He stopped breathing, his chest full of air, jaw set when I added pressure to his entrance. Warm and slick and fucking tight. I tried to force down the groan rolling up my throat, but there was no way I could hold it back. The wild creature in me awoke once more, and I drove in halfway in one go. Dima released a breath, his hands smacking against my chest. I watched him with one hand on his cock, hoping like hell I wasn’t hurting him because once I was all the way inside him, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

  “Deeper,” he pleaded with a whimper, but before I entered him fully, I placed my forearms next to his head and removed the cat ears. This was he and I, no role play.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Dima

  Tony had fucked me for a second time. Nice and slow, we’d moved together. His hands beside my head, laced in my hair. Lips melded together, broken only with our moans and whimpers. He pressed deep, and we rocked together toward our climaxes. It was blissful. It had been a long time since I’d been fucked like that. Deep and tender.

  And Tony wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t even trying to, making himself at home in my bed. He stretched out with his arm around me. His fingers traced circles on my back, his cheek rested against the top of my head. It was nice. He was warm. Peaceful. I felt calm. With a yawn, I hiked my leg higher over his and skimmed my fingers
through his chest hair. His hand slipped lower, faintly resting on the swell of my ass. I hid my smile away in his shoulder, keeping my eyes closed.

  “Mm. Tell me more about your tattoos,” I murmured into his skin, nipping gently. I was curious about them. He’d told me some of them, but he’d said that wasn’t the entire collection. When I tried to picture him, I imagined every inch of skin covered, even his ass and dick. But I was pretty sure that wasn’t true.

  Tony laughed. “Why?”

  “Wanna know.” I shrugged.

  “Mm. If I answer your question, you’re going to have to answer one of mine,” he said against my ear, making me squirm.

  “I’m an open book.” I smirked. He’d learn eventually.

  His chuckle made his chest vibrate, and he reached to grab my hand. He guided it down, across his stomach and to the side of his hip. “I have one of those vintage Mom tattoos. You know, the one with the heart and arrow through it?”

  I dragged my nails lightly over the skin and snickered. “Why? You close to your mom?”

  “Not even a bit,” Tony said, twining our fingers together.

  “Then why did you get it?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

  “Well, it involved a lot of alcohol and a really cute guy who wanted to be a tattoo artist. He wanted to practice and well…”

  “Did you get laid?”

  “Nope. And I made the mistake of letting him pick it out too.” Tony sighed. “So disappointing.”

  “Mm. You probably could have said you had something cooler,” I told him. “Not like I can call you out on it.”

  Tony hummed, lips kissing at my hair. “I’m not a liar. And now you have to answer my question.”

  “Hit me.”

  “Do you speak Dutch?”

  “That’s your question? Really?” I snorted. And here I thought he would want to know something more personal.

  “It is. I’ve been wondering about it for a while.”

  Rolling my eyes, I moved my hand back up to his pecs. I liked rubbing my fingers through the hair. Liked stroking it. Almost as much as I liked pulling at his piercings. “I know some Dutch. I’m not very good at it,” I admitted. “I was learning it for school, but when you know... I kind of stopped.”

  “Hm. What about Korean?” His fingers grazed along my spine, stroking lightly.

  “Mhm. I was born in England, where my father was working at the time, but they made sure I learned it. And we lived there for a while too. I hardly ever speak to my parents though. Mom’s got her new family. Dad’s got his career and a younger girlfriend, and I’m the broken child that no one wants.” Tony was easy to talk to. Something about him made it so I didn’t even think about answering him. I just did. Even as the words made my throat tighten.

  I felt him nod.

  “You don’t have much of an accent,” he commented, so casual it was almost as if he wasn’t trying to change the subject.

  “Traveled a lot when I was growing up, and then I traveled a bit on my own before…everything went black.” Sometimes the urge to leave rolled over me. Go somewhere else. I liked seeing new places, trying new food, meeting new people. I’d always found it exciting. Ever since I’d been diagnosed with neuromyelitis optica, the idea of doing something like that was terrifying. I dreaded the day I had to leave this place. Going someplace alone where I didn’t know where anything was made me want to cry. It was too risky.

  “I understand,” he whispered. His fingers interlaced with my hair, and he pulled my head back to place a kiss on my lips.

  I smiled into his mouth and turned my head away. Things were silent for a moment, and then I voiced a question that had been on my mind for a while. “Why exactly did you come here?” On our first date, Tony had claimed he’d come back to make up for lost time with Sara, but really, I didn’t buy that excuse.

  A quiet sigh left him, and his arm moved from around me. I heard the scratch of his nails through his beard. “My brother,” he admitted.

  “You have a brother?”

  “Had,” he said quietly. “He...uhm...he passed away.”

  “Oh…” Shit. I didn’t want to bring up personal things like that. Didn’t want to make him sad. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think...I…”

  I could feel Tony shake his head, and his arm dropped back around me instantly. He squeezed me tight to his side and let out a shaky breath.

  “No. It’s fine. I don’t mind you asking. Hell, you told me about your family,” he assured me. “My brother died in a car accident, and well, my sister is all I have left. Our parents pretty much disowned both of us. She got pregnant and moved out, and I, well, left the law firm I worked at.”

  My eyes widened. I felt bad for him. I really did—we were so similar—but something else had caught my attention. “You were a lawyer?”

  Tony barked out a laugh at that. “Not a very good one.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I mean, I got fired because I kept refusing cases I personally didn’t care for, so they’d let me go. I couldn’t quit because my father had landed me the job.”

  Nestling closer, I folded my arm around him and closed my eyes. “Mmh, I see. Still, tell me more,” I murmured.

  “What do you wanna know?”

  “Everything.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Tony

  The seconds blended into minutes, the minutes into hours. Dima and I spent the rest of the night in bed, rolling around, talking, making out until he decided he needed something to eat. I cooked for him then. Pasta with jarred sauce he had at the back of the cupboard. Dima laughed at my cooking “skills” when I fed him the pasta at the coffee table, both of us sitting on the floor next to each other. I loved seeing him happy, the way his smile widened until I couldn’t help but grin. It was infectious. It was almost 4 AM when Dima fell asleep on my lap, and I carried him back into the bedroom. As before, I stayed and hugged him close. It felt so right, having him breathe against my chest, shift against my body. It was perfect and dangerous. But I loved every minute of it.

  Dima called in sick the next day, after barely three hours of sleep. Jan had threatened to come over in case he was hurt, which did sting, but I couldn’t blame the guy. He didn’t really know me after all, and he was obviously protective of him. Everyone was. Dima assured him that nothing serious was wrong, and he must have caught a cold. That resulted in Jan scolding him about sitting at the beach without enough cover-up. I ended the call with a tap of my finger, the phone still on the coffee table. It went silent around us. Now it was just us again.

  Dima’s hand reached out in my general direction, and once it touched my thigh, he spider-walked his fingers up to my crotch. I jumped off the couch. We’d been going at each other like rabbits; I needed a break, or I’d end up dehydrated and in the hospital. Possibly with a broken hip. I sighed loudly, letting my head fall back.

  “What?” Dima asked and dropped to his knees, crawling in my direction, feeling around until his hands grazed my bare feet. He was insatiable. After having barely slept, he wanted to go again. I gazed down at him, at how the shirt he wore exposed his brief-clad ass, riding up his lower back.

  Jesus.

  “We’ve had sex three times since I came over,” I said, crouching before him. I patted his head, brushing my fingers through his soft hair. He really was my kitten.

  “Your point?” Dima whispered, moving his head to rub it into the palm of my hand.

  “Isn’t your ass sore?” I breathed, then kissed his forehead.

  Dima grumbled, bottom lip pushing out before he sat back on his heels and purred.

  “I called in sick to play with you,” he argued, sliding one hand down toward his crotch, rubbing the front of his briefs.

  My gaze got stuck, and I swallowed thickly.

  “You don’t play fair,” I rasped, my hand clasping the back of his neck before I dropped to my knees and tore him forward, lips clashing like the ocean against the shore. Dima gasped into my mouth
, fingers yanking at the front of my briefs. I’d gotten dressed because I’d insisted he put something on too. I could deal with being naked, but I couldn’t handle him being naked. I had no self-control. Now, I considered flipping him over and pinning him to the floor to have my way with his petite little ass. But then I stopped myself.

  I broke the kiss and grabbed a handful of the back of his shirt, tugging him away from me.

  “So.” I cleared my throat, my knees aching from pressing against the floor. “I got the job at Marcel’s,” I stated somewhat breathlessly. I needed to change the subject. Needed to focus on something other than what my dick wanted me to.

  Dima’s lips were plump and parted as he tried to lean in again, but I didn’t let him.

  “Oh, that’s great.” Dima sounded like we were talking about the weather. Like it was of no concern to him that I’d be sticking around. It stung a bit.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled, still holding him back as he grabbed for me again. I felt as if he was trying to distract me. “Y’know, that means I’m going to be around for a while…”

  Again, Dima barely reacted. He shrugged and slid his fingers over the waistband of my briefs. “That’s good. I’m sure Sara will like that.”

  I resisted the urge to growl. I was sure Sara would like having me around. Getting the chance to be a proper family. But that was only a part of the reason I wanted to stay. He had to know that. This thing between us...it was worth exploring, and I needed to be here to do that. It wasn’t like I was proposing marriage to him. Or asking to move in. I didn’t expect him to jump with joy at the news or cry in happiness. I did expect more than a casual shrug. I expected him to acknowledge it.

  But he wasn’t going to. His attention was solely on my body, on my cock, and he wasn’t going to focus on anything else anytime soon. Dima was a frustrating enigma I wanted to solve, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for me.