Cater's still gasping hard when his head clears enough to really look at Rayne. It's a sight that's so absurdly sexy he feels a whole new throb of pleasure, but the splatter of his semen across the other boy's face also sends a jolt of panic through him. OMG, how pissed was Rayne going to be about that?
"I'm sorry! Shoot, let me grab you a tissue--"
He twists around, trying to find where he kept them. There should be some on his desk behind him, he thinks...
Bringing his own thumb up to his face, Rayne wipes some of the splattered semen from his own skin.
"It's fine."
With that statement, he brings his thumb to his mouth, licking it clean. One pass at his face wouldn't completely clean him off, but what use would it be to get mad at Cater for something like this? Something that, really, he couldn't help.
As he rises to his feet, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his opposite hand shifting down to grab at Cater's hip, thumb pressing in with bruising pressure. "Kick off your pants all the way-- then help get mine off. We don't... have anything we can use for lubrication, do we?" The thought finally crosses his mind, his brow tightening.
Face still alight with awe at the absolutely sexual way that Rayne just handled that mess, Cater does as he's told. His pants are promptly kicked away and he's leaning forward to reach for Rayne's, unable to keep the eagerness out of his grasping fingers.
The question makes him pause briefly, eyes flicking upward with confusion--and then a bit of bashfulness. Yeah, most students wouldn't have that kind of thing ready to go, would they?
Rayne stares at Cater for a long second at the admission. Did he really have something like that ready to go?? In his dorm room-- no, where else would he keep it? The Divine Visionary breathes out a heavy sigh, nodding slightly.
"I'll grab it."
If he knew the exact location, he'd use his magic instead of wandering over. As it was, he'd probably end up lifting something else out of the drawer without realizing it. Pulling back from Cater, he moves over to the bed, tugging the nightstand drawer open.
... Was Cater some sort of slut, who couldn't get enough with just his hand? Rayne swallows, face flushed as he grabs the bottle of lube.
There's not a single comment made as he moves back over to Cater, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed at him.
"How much time do you spend on this sort of thing?" Sorry, Cater, he can't not ask.
"Probably a bit more than average," he admits. Cater can't help it--even he can feel a certain amount of shame. He swallows, eyes darting down and away when Rayne returns with the lube and asks his question. After all, he knows exactly what else is in that drawer.
"...do you think I'm dirty?"
It's maybe a bit more vulnerable than he wants to be, especially when Rayne doesn't look like he's about to storm off on him, but...something about the idea bothers him. That Rayne would think poorly of him, this way. That he wouldn't want to touch him anymore, after all.
How's he supposed to answer that question? It's different than he's used to for his school life, different than he imagines most others even if he should adjust his expectations considering the majority of students were focused on this type of thing.
"I wouldn't say dirty." It wasn't the right word to describe how he thought of Cater.
The gears are turning in his head, trying to think of the right word, the right way to describe how he thought of Cater.
"More... I haven't spent much time with that. I want..." Setting the bottle against the desk, Rayne rests his hand against the lip of the desk, leaning in to Cater, lowering his voice. "To keep being the person you fantasize about. To not be a momentary fling. Something convenient. If you're mine," His opposite hand comes up, grabbing Cater's chin again -- he's pretty grabby, huh? "Then that means I accept that part of you too."
Even as Rayne leans in and grabs his face, Cater relaxes. His smile becomes relieved as he re-focuses his gaze on the other boy. "There's nothing convenient about you," he says with a certain hint of fondness in the sentiment.
Really, he shouldn't be making any kind of promise relating to commitment. As much as he claimed he was Rayne's, could either of them even imagine the future? Well, for now...Cater decides he doesn't want to imagine a future where he's anyone else's. That was good enough.
"As long as you accept all of me," he agrees, "I won't think of anyone else."
Possessiveness, the desire to have Cater all to himself, and commitment to him, to refuse to see anyone else by his side, felt like a strange combination. Could he really claim that Cater was his when he continued to push him away in public? When he seemed to want nothing to do with him until someone else had their hands all over him?
With a small huff, Rayne shifts to press his lips against Cater's neck again, deciding it best not to think about for now. Not during this moment, when he wanted nothing more than to give in to instinct.
"Good." He murmurs against Cater's skin, hand falling from his chin to grab at his hip again.
His smile spreads more widely across his face as Rayne leans into him, grabs at him.
"Right, where were we?"
Oh, yes. Taking off Rayne's pants. Cater reaches for the other boy's waist, finding where he'd left off, undoing the button and zipper there and working to slide the fabric down his thighs, getting it out of the way. He's even more eager to reach the package he's freed, palming Rayne's dick in his hand. Maybe it was a bit ahead of orders, but he wouldn't be too upset, would he?
Things had been getting a little too strangely gentle, hadn’t they? Rayne had almost forgotten why they were here, what led them to this point.
The hand against him, palming him, is enough to get a soft groan out of him, fingers curling against both the lip of the desk and Cater’s hip. His touch leaves his hip, to grab at the bottle of lube on the desk. The sound of the cap being undone can be heard behind Cater, as Rayne shifts his position slightly.
After pouring some along his own fingers, spreading it between them, he shifts his hand down, back between Cater’s legs, to tease at his entrance. Well, tease is a strong word— he might not be in a hurry, but he also doesn’t want to wait very long. Pressing his middle finger against him, he begins to push in, not really caring to give Cater more than a second to know what he’s doing.
Rayne makes it clear quite quickly that he's the one setting the pace for the both of them, but Cater decides that as long as his hands aren't getting wrenched away, there's no harm in some petting. He shifts his body against the desk to allow Rayne easier access as he feels slick fingertips pressing against his opening--doesn't mind how readily one is pushed inside. Cater murmurs a sound of gratitude as he moves his fingers along Rayne's shaft, touching him like he's trying to memorize every inch of skin.
He wanted that finger in him deeper, wanted more. After that brief reprieve, he's already starting to feel a second wind. Still, he's not such a glutton for punishment that he dares rush Rayne. He'd rather the prefect follow his instinct without prompting.
Cater’s soft hands against his length felt far better than he could have ever imagined they would. His breath catches, heart picking up the pace, but he does his best to keep his cool, to stay even and composed as he presses his finger further into Cater, until he can’t push it any further. Shifting it inside of him, he feels around, pressing his finger against his inner walls before pulling it back out to add a second. This time he’s a bit quicker with getting it all the way inside of him, spreading him without seeming to worry too much about possibly being too rough with him. His two fingers press deep within him, scouring his walls, mercilessly pressing against different spots within him as he moves them.
Instinct or not, he’s clearly very focused, his opposite hand shifting to wrap back around Cater’s own cock, wanting to tease him, to see how he might react to the pleasure from both ends.
It becomes quickly obvious just what kind of effect that Rayne is having on him. from the noises he starts to make. Just that exploration was so exciting, but when Rayne's fingertips attack his most sensitive spots, he doesn't hide how good it feels--so Rayne will know just where to keep hitting him. Things only compound with that other hand wrapped around his cock again. It still feels a little oversensitive even as it's re-hardened, and Cater lets out a plaintive whine at the sudden onslaught of pleasure.
"Mmm, Rayne..."
Cater all but purrs the other boy's name as he continues to stroke him, his own movements growing needier, more insistent. How he could fell all of this and still want more, he didn't know, but it was the one word that kept coming to mind. More, more, more!
Rayne seems to be less about making noises, biting them back. Instead, the only indication of his enjoyment is the twitching of his arousal against Cater's hand, the way his breathing catches, comes out in small pants. His fingers continue moving within Cater, his hand stroking him in almost the same needy pace as Cater begins to take against him. Rayne almost loses himself in the moment, nearly forgetting there was more that he wanted to do, more that he wanted from this moment.
His hands both retreat from Cater, only to grab hold of his wrist, wrenching it away from him. His own cock was leaking lightly with pre, his face burning-- any longer and he might've reached his own orgasm just from Cater's hand. One hand holds onto his wrist, the other grabbing his hip and forcing him to turn around, before grabbing his opposite wrist, dragging both behind his back.
Using Cater's own tie, he binds his wrists together -- messily, but it's done -- before pressing his hand against the back of his head and forcing him to bend over his desk, shoving his face into it.
"You didn't ask if you could touch me." Rayne huffs out, one hand still resting against Cater's bound wrists, the other against the back of his head, tangled in his hair. "Do I need to make you helpless so you'll behave?"
There's a question in his eyes that Cater doesn't have time to fully process, when Rayne pulls away. Too soon afterward, he's being flipped around and bound, the Divine Visionary handling him with ease. Cater wasn't expecting to end up with his hands tied, but he doesn't complain. As always, it only seems to make him even more eager--he gasps as he's bent roughly over, instinctively widening the stance of his legs.
He could apologize...but he's enjoying Rayne's idea of discipline just a bit too much.
"You're so sexy, how can I help myself?" His breath hits the desk, heats his flushed skin even farther as it bounces back toward him. "Maybe I need a lesson."
Cater looked so good like this. With his head against the desk, his chest resting against it, his legs spreading further on instinct. So eager for more, for whatever Rayne was going to give him. Chewing on his bottom lip, he slips his hand back from Cater's wrists, running his fingers down along his skin. Down the curve of his ass, along the back of his thigh and right back up. Admiring him, silently, giving himself time to come down a little from the near orgasm.
"Yeah, you do," He breathes out, leaning over Cater to press a kiss between his shoulder blades. In a second, he presses his hips close to Cater's, grinding himself up against him, dragging his dick between his ass cheeks with a low groan. "Maybe I'll tease you for a while..." Rayne muses, his hold on Cater's hair softening.
"... But I'm already punishing you, aren't I? For earlier," His hand releases Cater's hair, instead brushing some of it to the side to allow Rayne to press his lips against the back of his neck instead, leaning over Cater to do so. "Not being able to see me could be enough, if you like looking at me that much."
Even that little bit of teasing makes him whine, his hips straining for more contact from Rayne's erection, so hot against his skin. "Don't tease me," he protests, if not altogether very hard. "I want you so badly already."
He misses the feeling of those fingers gripped in his hair as soon as they're gone, but Cater doesn't mind the replacement. The weight of Rayne leaning over him, his mouth against his skin. A shudder of anticipation ripples through him.
Rayne was right--it was a punishment, in its own way. As sexual as this position was, as much as he liked it, Cater did miss being able to watch the other boy as he considered what to do, as he touched him. Missed those eyes, no matter how harshly they often bore into him.
For a man who was so patient normally, those little whines send shivers down him, make him want nothing more than to shove himself inside Cater and make him let out more of those pretty moans and cries. An unbearable heat rests within his abdomen, practically screaming for more, for him.
This position, although sexual, didn't have any hint of the care that the previous one almost had, with how they were able to look into each other's eyes, how Cater was able to tangle his fingers in Rayne's hair. This was more detached, further from intimacy, regardless of how full of lust it was.
With his free hand, he grabs at the lube, uncapping it messily and dripping some of the cool liquid over his own arousal. The bottle is set back down, hand coming down to spread the lubrication over him, as he moves to position himself against Cater's entrance. He probably could've used a little more prep time, but-- well, he doesn't want to wait anymore.
His lips make contact with his shoulder from behind, and, as he begins to press into Cater, his mouth opens to allow him to bite down against him, to distract him from any discomfort with a different kind of discomfort.
It's a good thing that the walls in the dorms are so thick, because when Rayne pushes into him and bites him at the same time, he lets out such an elicit cry it would make even a sinner blush. With his hands bound behind him, though, he has no way to muffle himself outside of biting his lip. Cater's forehead presses hard into the desk, his sensors all on overdrive. Where does he focus? Where does he start?
Rayne's cock stretches him open so deliciously, and all he can think is how he wants it to move, to stimulate him again and again. Impatient, his hips push back against Rayne's pelvis, trying to get him as deep as possible. More, more, his brain still chants, abuzz with pleasure. Give it to me!
Oh. Oh. Rayne is suddenly very glad that Cater can't see him, can't see the intense flush that the cry brings to his face. How was he supposed to handle Cater crying out so loud, so intensely, clearly finding so much pleasure in what he was doing. Rayne gasps against his skin, too, at the feeling of his walls pressing around his length, as Cater's hips press back against him.
He can't think.
As those hips shift, Rayne can't help but press himself further, until he's all the way inside of Cater, his teeth pressing further into his skin as he attempts to bite back a moan. Such a new feeling for him was overwhelming, especially with how worked up he'd already gotten, with how Cater had already been touching him, getting him to such a point--
Pushing himself to sit up, needing to remove his teeth from Cater to do so, he grabs at his hips with both hands. One slides down to one of Cater's thighs, grabbing onto it and hoisting it up some, being careful not to push him too hard. His hand shifts to hook around his leg to hold it up.
Without thinking that, maybe, Cater would need a minute to adjust, he starts moving. His thrusts aren't slow, aren't careful, beginning to pound into Cater as if he was nothing more than a toy for him to use.
No more flirtatious banter, no more words. Rayne adjusting their position is the only reprieve he gets before he kicks into high gear. Cater's face twists, eyes squeezed shut and brows furrowed as he's fucked into the desk, huffing and puffing and moaning with each slap of their bodies together. Behind his back, Cater's fingers clench tight. There's just a slight edge of pain to it, due to Rayne's inexperience, but Cater doesn't tell him to stop--doesn't want him to stop.
It feels too good, even with the discomfort. The sounds they're making, from their breathing to their bodies to the clattering of the desk against the wall only serves to funnel pleasure straight into his cock. There's nothing romantic about it, just straight stimulation against his prostate, shocking his nerves. Cater's harsh moans taper into a whimper as he feels an orgasm punch out of him, shooting against his thighs.
Did they need words, for something like this? Something that was so unabashedly focused solely on the feelings in their bodies, the pleasure that they could draw from one another? Rayne can't hold back any of his own soft noises now, too focused on the warmth that surrounded him, the pressure, the desire he felt. Even as that little whimper escapes Cater, as he makes a mess of his own thighs, as his body tightens, Rayne isn't done with him.
Slowly, fingers move up along his body, coming back up to his chest, to taunt sensitive skin under his own touch. He knows Cater must be getting oversensitive by now. That thought only pushes him further. Letting down Cater's leg carefully, adjusting their position again, he moves his hand around him, wrapping his fingers around his cock, massaging that red tip with his thumb ruthlessly. He knew if he wasn't careful, he'd release inside of him before long, but... who can blame him for wanting to mess with him for just a little longer, to touch all those sensitive spots on him, to make him writhe?
Rayne has Cater right where he wants him--and gets exactly what he was hoping for. Fresh off of a climax, he gulps down air sharply when Rayne squeezes him, toying him without mercy. He's never really explored himself when he's so oversensitive, and the way stars explode behind his eyelids is completely new to him. Cater's body twists and squirms involuntarily, hips jerking and walls squeezing Rayne hard.
When Rayne had tied him down, he'd asked if he needed to make Cater feel helpless--and now, like this, he was feeling it. Half immobilized and tormented with pleasure, his nerves were on reacting on instinct and there was nothing he could do to curb them. Cater's whines are desperate and pleading in the absence of words. Was he going to cum again? Could he? Would it even feel good?
This was exactly what he'd hoped for. The way Cater's body twists, squirms against him. His fingers tug against the nub on his chest, squeezing and pulling without a care in the world for how Cater might be feeling. What he wanted was to keep hearing those noises, those whines, those desperate pleas. To watch his nerves react on instinct, to feel his walls tighten around him--
Still, Rayne wasn't experienced enough to hold himself back. His hand against Cater's dick was desperate, needy in its rapid strokes and the teasing of his tip, as his hips continue to move, to thrust into him. At last, he pushes in one last time, as deep as he could get in this position, unable to keep himself from spilling over inside of him.
Cater discovers that yes, he can cum again that quickly. It's a dribbling, physically weak splurt forced out of him, but it feels anything but weak to his poor, overstimulated body. He shakes as Rayne jerks him, as Rayne's own orgasm hits and fills him. The way he sits so deep inside is its own sort of reprieve, his chest heaving against the top of his desk.
Later, he's going to be incredibly sore, but right now his head is swimming too hard for him to think about it. Hearing and feeling Rayne's own heavy breathing feels good in its own right, a soothing follow-up to the intensity of what he just went through. Still, his body is so tense--every time Cater starts to relax, a jolt of an aftershock wracks him, eliciting another gasp and whine from the redhead.
"R-Rayne," he finally whimpers as his senses begin to slowly return to him. "Please untie me."
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splitmemory2024-05-20 12:26 am
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"I'm sorry! Shoot, let me grab you a tissue--"
He twists around, trying to find where he kept them. There should be some on his desk behind him, he thinks...
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"It's fine."
With that statement, he brings his thumb to his mouth, licking it clean. One pass at his face wouldn't completely clean him off, but what use would it be to get mad at Cater for something like this? Something that, really, he couldn't help.
As he rises to his feet, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his opposite hand shifting down to grab at Cater's hip, thumb pressing in with bruising pressure. "Kick off your pants all the way-- then help get mine off. We don't... have anything we can use for lubrication, do we?" The thought finally crosses his mind, his brow tightening.
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The question makes him pause briefly, eyes flicking upward with confusion--and then a bit of bashfulness. Yeah, most students wouldn't have that kind of thing ready to go, would they?
"I have a bottle of lube in my nightstand."
Don't ask why. You know why, Rayne.
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"I'll grab it."
If he knew the exact location, he'd use his magic instead of wandering over. As it was, he'd probably end up lifting something else out of the drawer without realizing it. Pulling back from Cater, he moves over to the bed, tugging the nightstand drawer open.
... Was Cater some sort of slut, who couldn't get enough with just his hand? Rayne swallows, face flushed as he grabs the bottle of lube.
There's not a single comment made as he moves back over to Cater, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed at him.
"How much time do you spend on this sort of thing?" Sorry, Cater, he can't not ask.
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"...do you think I'm dirty?"
It's maybe a bit more vulnerable than he wants to be, especially when Rayne doesn't look like he's about to storm off on him, but...something about the idea bothers him. That Rayne would think poorly of him, this way. That he wouldn't want to touch him anymore, after all.
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"I wouldn't say dirty." It wasn't the right word to describe how he thought of Cater.
The gears are turning in his head, trying to think of the right word, the right way to describe how he thought of Cater.
"More... I haven't spent much time with that. I want..." Setting the bottle against the desk, Rayne rests his hand against the lip of the desk, leaning in to Cater, lowering his voice. "To keep being the person you fantasize about. To not be a momentary fling. Something convenient. If you're mine," His opposite hand comes up, grabbing Cater's chin again -- he's pretty grabby, huh? "Then that means I accept that part of you too."
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Really, he shouldn't be making any kind of promise relating to commitment. As much as he claimed he was Rayne's, could either of them even imagine the future? Well, for now...Cater decides he doesn't want to imagine a future where he's anyone else's. That was good enough.
"As long as you accept all of me," he agrees, "I won't think of anyone else."
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With a small huff, Rayne shifts to press his lips against Cater's neck again, deciding it best not to think about for now. Not during this moment, when he wanted nothing more than to give in to instinct.
"Good." He murmurs against Cater's skin, hand falling from his chin to grab at his hip again.
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"Right, where were we?"
Oh, yes. Taking off Rayne's pants. Cater reaches for the other boy's waist, finding where he'd left off, undoing the button and zipper there and working to slide the fabric down his thighs, getting it out of the way. He's even more eager to reach the package he's freed, palming Rayne's dick in his hand. Maybe it was a bit ahead of orders, but he wouldn't be too upset, would he?
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The hand against him, palming him, is enough to get a soft groan out of him, fingers curling against both the lip of the desk and Cater’s hip. His touch leaves his hip, to grab at the bottle of lube on the desk. The sound of the cap being undone can be heard behind Cater, as Rayne shifts his position slightly.
After pouring some along his own fingers, spreading it between them, he shifts his hand down, back between Cater’s legs, to tease at his entrance. Well, tease is a strong word— he might not be in a hurry, but he also doesn’t want to wait very long. Pressing his middle finger against him, he begins to push in, not really caring to give Cater more than a second to know what he’s doing.
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He wanted that finger in him deeper, wanted more. After that brief reprieve, he's already starting to feel a second wind. Still, he's not such a glutton for punishment that he dares rush Rayne. He'd rather the prefect follow his instinct without prompting.
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Instinct or not, he’s clearly very focused, his opposite hand shifting to wrap back around Cater’s own cock, wanting to tease him, to see how he might react to the pleasure from both ends.
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"Mmm, Rayne..."
Cater all but purrs the other boy's name as he continues to stroke him, his own movements growing needier, more insistent. How he could fell all of this and still want more, he didn't know, but it was the one word that kept coming to mind. More, more, more!
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His hands both retreat from Cater, only to grab hold of his wrist, wrenching it away from him. His own cock was leaking lightly with pre, his face burning-- any longer and he might've reached his own orgasm just from Cater's hand. One hand holds onto his wrist, the other grabbing his hip and forcing him to turn around, before grabbing his opposite wrist, dragging both behind his back.
Using Cater's own tie, he binds his wrists together -- messily, but it's done -- before pressing his hand against the back of his head and forcing him to bend over his desk, shoving his face into it.
"You didn't ask if you could touch me." Rayne huffs out, one hand still resting against Cater's bound wrists, the other against the back of his head, tangled in his hair. "Do I need to make you helpless so you'll behave?"
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He could apologize...but he's enjoying Rayne's idea of discipline just a bit too much.
"You're so sexy, how can I help myself?" His breath hits the desk, heats his flushed skin even farther as it bounces back toward him. "Maybe I need a lesson."
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"Yeah, you do," He breathes out, leaning over Cater to press a kiss between his shoulder blades. In a second, he presses his hips close to Cater's, grinding himself up against him, dragging his dick between his ass cheeks with a low groan. "Maybe I'll tease you for a while..." Rayne muses, his hold on Cater's hair softening.
"... But I'm already punishing you, aren't I? For earlier," His hand releases Cater's hair, instead brushing some of it to the side to allow Rayne to press his lips against the back of his neck instead, leaning over Cater to do so. "Not being able to see me could be enough, if you like looking at me that much."
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He misses the feeling of those fingers gripped in his hair as soon as they're gone, but Cater doesn't mind the replacement. The weight of Rayne leaning over him, his mouth against his skin. A shudder of anticipation ripples through him.
Rayne was right--it was a punishment, in its own way. As sexual as this position was, as much as he liked it, Cater did miss being able to watch the other boy as he considered what to do, as he touched him. Missed those eyes, no matter how harshly they often bore into him.
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This position, although sexual, didn't have any hint of the care that the previous one almost had, with how they were able to look into each other's eyes, how Cater was able to tangle his fingers in Rayne's hair. This was more detached, further from intimacy, regardless of how full of lust it was.
With his free hand, he grabs at the lube, uncapping it messily and dripping some of the cool liquid over his own arousal. The bottle is set back down, hand coming down to spread the lubrication over him, as he moves to position himself against Cater's entrance. He probably could've used a little more prep time, but-- well, he doesn't want to wait anymore.
His lips make contact with his shoulder from behind, and, as he begins to press into Cater, his mouth opens to allow him to bite down against him, to distract him from any discomfort with a different kind of discomfort.
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Rayne's cock stretches him open so deliciously, and all he can think is how he wants it to move, to stimulate him again and again. Impatient, his hips push back against Rayne's pelvis, trying to get him as deep as possible. More, more, his brain still chants, abuzz with pleasure. Give it to me!
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He can't think.
As those hips shift, Rayne can't help but press himself further, until he's all the way inside of Cater, his teeth pressing further into his skin as he attempts to bite back a moan. Such a new feeling for him was overwhelming, especially with how worked up he'd already gotten, with how Cater had already been touching him, getting him to such a point--
Pushing himself to sit up, needing to remove his teeth from Cater to do so, he grabs at his hips with both hands. One slides down to one of Cater's thighs, grabbing onto it and hoisting it up some, being careful not to push him too hard. His hand shifts to hook around his leg to hold it up.
Without thinking that, maybe, Cater would need a minute to adjust, he starts moving. His thrusts aren't slow, aren't careful, beginning to pound into Cater as if he was nothing more than a toy for him to use.
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It feels too good, even with the discomfort. The sounds they're making, from their breathing to their bodies to the clattering of the desk against the wall only serves to funnel pleasure straight into his cock. There's nothing romantic about it, just straight stimulation against his prostate, shocking his nerves. Cater's harsh moans taper into a whimper as he feels an orgasm punch out of him, shooting against his thighs.
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Slowly, fingers move up along his body, coming back up to his chest, to taunt sensitive skin under his own touch. He knows Cater must be getting oversensitive by now. That thought only pushes him further. Letting down Cater's leg carefully, adjusting their position again, he moves his hand around him, wrapping his fingers around his cock, massaging that red tip with his thumb ruthlessly. He knew if he wasn't careful, he'd release inside of him before long, but... who can blame him for wanting to mess with him for just a little longer, to touch all those sensitive spots on him, to make him writhe?
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When Rayne had tied him down, he'd asked if he needed to make Cater feel helpless--and now, like this, he was feeling it. Half immobilized and tormented with pleasure, his nerves were on reacting on instinct and there was nothing he could do to curb them. Cater's whines are desperate and pleading in the absence of words. Was he going to cum again? Could he? Would it even feel good?
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Still, Rayne wasn't experienced enough to hold himself back. His hand against Cater's dick was desperate, needy in its rapid strokes and the teasing of his tip, as his hips continue to move, to thrust into him. At last, he pushes in one last time, as deep as he could get in this position, unable to keep himself from spilling over inside of him.
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Later, he's going to be incredibly sore, but right now his head is swimming too hard for him to think about it. Hearing and feeling Rayne's own heavy breathing feels good in its own right, a soothing follow-up to the intensity of what he just went through. Still, his body is so tense--every time Cater starts to relax, a jolt of an aftershock wracks him, eliciting another gasp and whine from the redhead.
"R-Rayne," he finally whimpers as his senses begin to slowly return to him. "Please untie me."
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