latex
“Baby, I’m home,” James calls, dropping his briefcase in the foyer and tugging at his tie. “Where are you?”
“Up here, daddy.”
Lightheaded—he’s so damn lightheaded at the sound of Regulus, voice dipped in honey and so fucking sweet, calling for him from upstairs.
James runs, skids on the hardwood floors before taking the stairs two at a time. He’s salivating, those pictures vivid in his mind. He doesn’t know what to expect, but he knows it’s going to be good. Knows it’s—
Oh.
Oh, he’s so screwed. He’s so dead. He’s so—
“Hi, daddy,” Regulus says, head tilted to the side.
“Hi, baby,” James breathes, fingers wrapped tight around the door frame. “You—You look…*wow*. I—Fuck. Okay. Yeah. Wow.”
Regulus sits with his legs under him, hands on his knees. His outfit is—it’s sinful, really. James doesn’t know what to make of it, but he’s obsessed. Doesn’t think he’s ever loved an outfit more than this one.
It’s all shiny, black latex. A halter crop top that shows off the pale expanse of a taut stomach, belly button ring glinting in the low light when he shifts. That damned JFP tattoo between his hipbones in danger of turning James feral. Gloves past his elbows, and stockings. Oh, the stockings. Right to the middle of his thighs and shiny, so damn pretty.
James wants to bury his face in-between those thighs. Feel the soft latex rub against the stubble on his face. Especially when he sees the all-black G-string, thin where it cuts into Regulus’ skin and begs to be snapped.
His brain is so empty. All that bounces around is Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.
James thinks he might be drooling. He’s dimly aware of his jaw hanging open. “My love,” he says slowly, “what’s the occasion?”
“There isn’t one. I just know you’ve had a long week.”
“I have, yes.” James yanks at his tie, burning in his suit. Truthfully, he forgot all about his week the second he got those pictures.
Regulus quirks a brow. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Taking off my clothes?”
“No.”
James stills, fingers halfway finished with undoing his button-up. “What?”
“Keep your clothes on.”
“But how—?”
“You don’t get to touch me. Not unless you’re good.”
James takes a step towards him. “Regulus, love…”
Regulus ducks his chin. “Kneel.”
There’s such power in his voice when he speaks, and James is nothing if not powerless to him.
He sinks to his knees at the foot of the bed and looks up at Regulus. Takes him in—the darkened eyes, thunderclouds just before they burst; the wild curls black as the latex against his pale skin; the mischievous curl of his lips, so pleased with himself.
James is—God, he’s never been more in love with anyone in his life.
“Marry me,” he breathes, palms rubbing on his thighs. He aches in his trousers, needs relief in the form of firm pressure, but he won’t touch himself until Regulus tells him he can. “Marry me, baby. Please.”
Regulus barks a laugh. “We’ve been married for five years.”
“I know. Just—Marry me again. I’m so serious. You’re the most incredible creature I’ve ever fucking seen, and I need to do my vows over so I can make sure to put that line in there.”
“Then earn it.”
James blinks. “What?”
“I’ll marry you a second time, but only if you earn it.”
“What do I have to do? Because I’ll do it.”
Regulus tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “Be a good boy. Watch, but don’t touch—me, or yourself.”
James groans, nearly crumples. He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, the friction of his clothes too much. “Reg, love—”
“If you want me bad enough, you’ll be good.”
“Okay,” James says with a firm nod. “I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll be so—Oh, Christ.”
Regulus has shifted to lean back, his knees spread and one hand slipping down his abdomen, long fingers tripping over his skin. Then, swift and smooth, he turns around and puts himself on all fours, his ass on display, the thin strap of the G-string cut right through dripping wet folds.
“I’m dead. I’m so, so dead,” James marvels when Regulus reaches down, those black-clad fingers absorbing nothing when they slip through wetness. It turns the latex shiny, and James is all but salivating now. “Baby, come on,” he begs, shifting when Regulus moans from the touch of his own fingers. “Let me—Fuck, let me eat you out.”
His gaze snags on the right cheek—where he put a J with a stick and poke tattoo kit when they were eighteen. Hardly fine craftsmanship, but Regulus says it’s his favorite even now. That the memory of lying on that beat-up couch in James’ parents’ basement, wincing while James poked ink into the soft curve of his ass, never fails to make him smile.
James watches Regulus dip one finger inside his cunt, slow and torturous and so damn shiny. “Regulus,” James says, but it’s more like a whimper, “you are so damn beautiful. I know I tell you this every day, but fuck, fuck, fuck. Look at you.”
Regulus huffs a laugh. He looks over his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded and so damn dark. “You’re just hoping I tell you you can touch me.”
“No. I mean, yes, I am literally begging you to let me devour you, but—” James’ gaze trails to the stockings, shiny and so smooth, and he’s never wanted to run his tongue over something so bad in his life. “Baby, please.”
Regulus slips a second finger in, back arched like a cat’s, and the moan that rips from his throat is enough to pull one from James’ own lips.
Regulus doesn’t give him permission, so James sits and watches with an ache in his cock so fierce he thinks he might explode. He can’t decide what he wants to do first—bury his face between Regulus’ legs, or bury his cock deep inside him.
“Daddy,” Regulus breathes, the latex-clad fingers soaked down to the last knuckle. There are three of them in him now, pushing in and pulling out, each move a slippery slide.
James whines. No, he fucking whimpers. He’s so lost watching Regulus fuck himself with his fingers, soaking the latex and the thin strap of that G-string. “Yes, baby?”
Honestly, James’ brain is as good as smooth considering how few thoughts exist within it right now.
“You can have a taste.”
“Can I touch you?”
Regulus seems to debate with himself for a moment, then replies, “Yes.”
James doesn’t waste a second. He scrambles across the distance, gets his hands around delicate thighs and oh, they’re smooth, so damn nice under his hands. He yanks Regulus to him, hears the yelp from above but doesn’t pay it any mind. His tongue runs broad and flat through Regulus’ folds, and he all but crumples to the floor from the taste of him.
“Good, daddy?”
“Fucking divine,” James breathes over Regulus’ cunt. James uses his hands to pull Regulus impossibly closer, fingers digging into latex-clad thighs the best he can. His chin is dripping with spit and cum, his tongue fucking in and out of Regulus just the way he likes.
He doesn’t need his hands on Regulus. He never does. It’s a suck to his clit, teeth gentle where they nibble, a softly muttered, “Come for me, baby. Let me taste you,” and it doesn’t take long before Regulus shatters, his entire body convulsing from head to toe.
It’s made worse when James doesn’t stop. It’s an explosion on his tongue and he keeps going, decides he can fuck Regulus later but needs this now.
“Daddy, I—” Regulus breaks again with a sob, hips pushing back on James’ face. “I’m—”
“I’m not fucking done,” James snaps between languid licks. “I’m gonna split you open, love. Bury myself in you and never fucking leave.”
“Please.”
James is insatiable, a madman, mouth wet and chin dripping, Regulus breaking apart above him. It’s only when he can’t take the ache any longer, his cock almost in pain, that he stands and unzips his trousers.
He doesn’t give a warning. He knows Regulus doesn’t want one. He fists himself, runs his thumb over his head to gather the moisture there and slicken himself.
“Baby,” James whispers, hand kneading at Regulus’ ass. He presses his thumb against the J with a vicious grin. “You know I love you, right?”
“What? Yes, I—Fuck,” Regulus all but cries, his hands fisted in the sheets. James has sheathed himself, buried to the hilt in wet, tight heat in one smooth motion.
He doesn’t pause. Rather, he reaches to fist a hand in Regulus’ hair and pull him up, bring his back flush to James’ chest as he thrusts into him with precision.
“So fucking beautiful,” James mutters into the soft skin of Regulus’ shoulder. His hand is between Regulus’ legs, circling his clit with skilled fingertips while he keeps a firm hold on Regulus’ middle with the other. “So god damn perfect.”
Regulus shudders, whispers, “I’m—God, I’m close again. Holy shit.”
“I know, baby. I can always tell.” And he can. James feels the clench around him, the tightening as Regulus barrels to another climax and— “Fuck, there it is.”
Regulus cries out, his hands desperate for purchase but the latex is too smooth. He slips over James’ skin, scratching against tanned muscle but not gripping.
James is relentless, chasing a high only Regulus can give him. Everything feels like too much—the sounds they make, the smooth latex under his touch, the heat around him with each thrust into Regulus.
It hits him hard and fast—explosive, and he buries himself in Regulus with a strangled shout, teeth breaking the skin of Regulus’ shoulder. He thrusts weakly, working through his orgasm, leaving every bit in Regulus’ cunt before he pulls out.
He leans back on his haunches and watches Regulus flip on his back, legs spread and hand between his thighs. James groans at the sight of his cum leaking, pooling on their duvet.
“God, I am so lucky you married me,” he breathes, leaning forward to settle on his stomach, arms curved around Regulus’ thighs. He looks up at Regulus beneath lowered lashes before running his tongue over that swollen clit.
Regulus spasms, hand fisted in James’ hair as he gasps. “James, I—”
“Oh, did you think we were done?” James snorts a laugh and dips his tongue inside Regulus, the mixed taste of them driving him wild. “No, baby. This is a feast, and that wasn’t even the main course.”