Chapter 114 Wet Dreams and Revelations
Alex: POV
I was lost in the kiss, my body responding with an intensity that shocked me. Daniel's lips were softer than I expected, yet demanding in a way that made heat pool in my stomach.
Without breaking contact, I maneuvered him backward until his back hit the kitchen counter. The sudden jolt made him gasp against my mouth, creating a small opening that my tongue instinctively explored.
My hands found their way to his waist, gripping tightly as I pressed my body against his, which sent a thrill through me that I couldn't explain.
In my enthusiasm, I accidentally bumped his hip against the faucet, turning it on. Water sprayed out wildly, soaking the back of his thin white t-shirt.
"Shit," I muttered, reaching around him to shut it off, but only managing to redirect the spray. Water splashed across us both, drenching his shirt completely and soaking half of mine.
Daniel laughed, the sound vibrating against my chest. "Smooth move, Hamilton."
The water had turned his white shirt transparent, clinging to his torso like a second skin. I could see every muscle definition, the dark circles of his nipples hardening in the sudden cold.
Something primal stirred in me at the sight.
"You're a mess," I whispered, my voice rougher than I intended. My eyes locked on his chest, where water droplets traced paths downward.
"So are you," he replied, his gaze heated as he took in my partially soaked shirt.
I lowered my head and pressed my mouth against his chest, my lips closing around one nipple through the wet fabric.
Daniel's sharp intake of breath spurred me on. I sucked gently, feeling it harden further against my tongue.
My hands found their way under his shirt, pushing it up to expose his stomach.
I traced the defined muscles there, marveling at how different this felt from touching a woman—more familiar in some ways, more foreign in others.
"Alex," he breathed, fingers threading through my hair, neither pushing me away nor pulling me closer, just holding on like I was his anchor in a storm.
I moved lower, trailing kisses down his stomach, dropping to my knees as I reached the waistband of his jeans. Looking up, I found his eyes dark with desire, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice strained.
In answer, I reached for the waistband of his boxers—the only piece of clothing he still had on. I tugged them down slowly, revealing inch by inch until his erection sprang free.
"You don't have to," he whispered, his fingers gentle against my cheek.
I met his eyes. "I want to."
Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward and took him into my mouth. The taste was unfamiliar but not unpleasant—salt and skin and something uniquely Daniel. I experimented with pressure and rhythm, guided by his gasps and the tightening of his fingers in my hair.
"Fuck, Alex," he moaned, his hips jerking slightly. "That feels... incredible."
His reaction emboldened me. I took him deeper, using my hand to stroke what wouldn't fit in my mouth. His thighs trembled under my free hand, muscles taut with the effort of holding back.
I swirled my tongue around the swollen head of his cock, tasting the salty pre-cum leaking from the slit, then bobbed my head slowly, letting my lips drag along the thick shaft with each upward pull.
"God, you're so hard," I murmured against his skin, my voice muffled as I licked a stripe up the underside, tracing the throbbing vein there.
Daniel groaned, "Yeah, just like that—fuck, your mouth is perfect." I cupped his balls gently, rolling them in my palm while sucking harder, feeling them tighten as his body tensed.
"I'm close," he warned, tugging gently at my hair. "Alex, I'm going to—"
I didn't pull away. Instead, I increased my pace, hollowing my cheeks as I sucked harder. Daniel's whole body tensed, a strangled cry escaping him as he came.
I swallowed reflexively, surprised by my own willingness to do so, feeling the hot pulses of his cum hit the back of my throat in thick spurts.
When I finally pulled back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, Daniel was looking at me with such naked adoration that something in my chest constricted painfully.
"Come here," he said, voice raw with emotion. He pulled me to my feet, kissing me deeply, seemingly unbothered by the taste of himself on my tongue.
His hands made quick work of my belt, pushing my pants and underwear down just enough to free my straining erection.
When his fingers wrapped around me, I nearly came on the spot. "Shit, Daniel, your hand feels so good," I gasped, thrusting into his grip as he stroked my cock firmly, thumb circling the sensitive head slick with pre-cum.
"My turn," he murmured against my lips.
He spun us around, lifting me onto the counter with surprising strength. The cool surface against my heated skin made me gasp, but that was nothing compared to the shock of Daniel's warm mouth engulfing me.
"Holy shit," I groaned, my head falling back against the cabinet.
Daniel's technique was confident, practiced in a way. But all I could focus on was the wet heat of his mouth, the clever movements of his tongue, the gentle scrape of teeth that sent sparks up my spine.
He took me deep, his lips stretching around my girth as he hollowed his cheeks, sucking with perfect pressure while his hand pumped the base rhythmically. "You taste so fucking good," he growled, pulling off briefly to lick from balls to tip, his tongue flicking against the slit before diving back down.
I gripped his hair, guiding him as he bobbed faster. Then he shifted, sliding off the counter and pulling me down with him onto the kitchen floor, our bodies tangling as he flipped us so I was beneath him, his mouth never leaving my cock.
He spread my thighs wider, fingers teasing my balls while he deep-throated me, gagging slightly but pushing through. "Daniel, fuck—keep going, I'm so close," I panted, hips bucking up into his throat.
It didn't take long before I was on the edge, my hips lifting involuntarily from the counter, seeking more of that exquisite sensation.
"Daniel, I'm going to come," I managed to warn him, my voice barely recognizable.
Unlike me, he pulled back, replacing his mouth with his hand as he stroked me through my orgasm.
As pleasure crashed through me, something felt... off. The kitchen lights began to flicker strangely, and Daniel's face seemed to blur at the edges. The counter beneath me suddenly felt softer, more fabric-like. The sensation of his hand on me remained intense, but his skin began to feel oddly insubstantial, like touching fog.
"Alex..." Daniel's voice sounded distant now, echoing as if coming from the end of a long tunnel. The kitchen walls around us started melting away, colors running together like wet paint.
I came with a shout, my entire body shuddering with the force of it, but as I did, Daniel's form began dissolving before my eyes, becoming transparent, then gone entirely.
---
I woke with a start, disoriented and sweating. The sheets were tangled around my legs, damp with... fuck. I looked down at the wet spot on my sweatpants and the couch cushion beneath me, mortification washing over me in waves.
"Fuck!" I shouted, jumping up from the couch. I'd had a wet dream. About Daniel. Like some hormonal teenager.