Last Chapter
“Uuhhh…” Kayne shuddered as the dull, listless voice scraped up the back of his arms. “I’m lookin’ fer a Kayne Wright?”
He blinked, swiveling in his desk chair to find a short, pudgy man in a wrinkled blue polo standing a few cubicles down from him. In his hands was a small, rectangular package with a white tag dangling from a piece of twine.
“That’s me,” Kayne said, lifting his hand in the air.
The delivery man looked over at him and nodded before shuffling over. Kayne tried to hide his distaste at the smell of body odor, and cheap cologne that shrouded the man like a cloak. “Here ya go,” he said as he handed Kayne the package. “Just sign here fer me.” A small clipboard was held out to him with a pink slip attached to it.
Nose wrinkled and holding his breath, Kayne placed the box on his desktop and picked up a pen (refusing to touch the chewed-up one the man was offering) to scribble his signature on the highlighted line.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
The portly man nodded, flashing yellow teeth as he grinned, before making his way out of sight. Kayne shook his head, rubbing the back of his arms as he turned back to his monitors and looked down at the package on his desk. It was no bigger than his cellphone and wrapped in thick unassuming brown paper. Frowning, Kayne picked up the tag to find his name and work address neatly written in black ink. He turned it over to find the other side blank. There was no name or return address to tell him who it was from.
“Well that’s not creepy,” he grumbled.
A brief thought that his sister might have sent him something, like a fake bloody finger, to mess with him flashed through his mind. But she usually wrapped his packages in the most garish, disgustingly pink wrapping paper she could find.
Still wracking his brain for who could have sent it, Kayne slid off the twine and tore off the paper. An equally unassuming white box was under the paper. Kayne pulled off the lid to reveal a small folded piece of cardstock with his name on it. Lifting it from the box, he found a sleek black recorder sitting at the bottom.
“What the hell?” He whispered, brows furrowed.
Who would send him a recorder of all things? Who even used these anymore? Feeling confused, Kayne returned his attention to the piece of cardstock and flipped it open. Kayne,
It read in the neat, fluid script.
I will not be able to make it to dinner tonight, so I have sent this gift in my place. I am very sorry, but I shall see you tomorrow.
Yours,
Nicholai
Heat flooded Kayne’s cheeks as he read, and he quickly hid the note in his backpack under his desk. He glanced around at the other cubicles on either side of him, making sure no one was paying him any mind. Satisfied no one had been watching him, Kayne looked down at the gift Nicholai had sent him.
His heart gave a little squeeze and gooseflesh appeared on his forearms. He and Nicholai had been seeing each other for the last month and a half, and Kayne had never felt so… alive.
Kayne had finally come across someone beyond family whose voice didn’t physically irritate or hurt him. So it hadn’t been easy coming to terms with just how good Nicholai made him feel. After that first night together, Kayne had scurried home and hid in his apartment absolutely mortified. He’d gone home with a stranger and done unspeakably delicious things with him all because his voice sent his body into a frenzy and turned his brain into a pile of goo. Those first few days after, Kayne had dutifully ignored the large Russian man, blocking his entire existence out with his headphones during their rides home. Kayne knew if he so much as even glanced into those forest green eyes he’d lose all rational thought. But the man had been obnoxiously… persistent. By that next work week, Nicholai had worn him down enough to convince him to accompany him on a date. From then on, Kayne found himself with Nicholai more often than not.
It had taken a solid couple of weeks for Nicholai’s voice to make him feel something other than sexually frustrated. The first non-sexual touch had been surprising but not unwelcome. After a particularly rough work day where his headphones had died halfway through the day, Kayne had been stuck listening to the clacking of keyboards and irate voices of his co-workers for four hours. Without his charger, he’d been forced to endure the onslaught of uncomfortable sounds. He’d collapsed into Josh’s car with a raging migraine and had barely registered Nicholai’s presence until his voice had curled around his waist. It had felt like two strong arms holding him, grounding him. Soothing his frayed nerves and holding his splitting skull together. Since then, Nicholai’s voice had evolved to provide him comfort as well as mind-numbing pleasure. Smiling softly, Kayne picked up the recorder, turning it over in his hand before turning it on. The screen flashed blue and ‘Track 01’ appeared in tiny black letters. His smile widened and he reached down to rummage around in his backpack to find the aux cord for his headphones. Nicholai had been trying to get Kayne to listen to his favorite Russian music artists since their first official date. It was adorably sweet that he’d made him a playlist.
Kayne plugged one end of the aux cord into his headphones and the other into the recorder. After placing them over his ears, he tapped the play button and slid down in his chair to get comfortable so he could listen and work. There was a little bit of static that tickled the bottom of his feet and then a click.
“Kayne.” The sound of Nicholai’s voice in his headphones, the words tracing up the back of his thighs, had him freezing mid keystroke. His eyes grew wide and he had to force himself to stop his mouth from falling open. “My Kayne,” Nicholai purred, his voice curling around Kayne’s thighs and latching on tightly. “I thought this might be a good substitute since I cannot be there with you in person.” The pressure on his thighs increased until he spread them to try and relieve some of it, his knees pressing into the underside of his desk. “It is such a shame,” he sighed, the words teasing along Kayne’s neck. “A shame I cannot touch you myself. That my words will have to do it for me.” A familiar pair of calloused thumbs swiped over his nipples making his breath hitch. “Can you feel me?” He rumbled. “Can you feel my words on your skin?” Kayne shuddered as fingertips trailed down his torso to the ‘v’ between his hips. He sunk his teeth into his lower lip to keep from blurting out anything obscene.
“Forcing your thighs apart.” His legs jumped as the words smacked at the inside of his thighs. “Digging my fingertips into the inside of your thighs.” He bit back a moan as blunt nails dug into the sensitive flesh. “I can just imagine your eyes rolling back in your head as my lips tease your cock.” His eyes did just that as a pair of smooth, warm lips skimmed along the underside of his shaft.
“Oh god,” he whispered, his cock straining in his jeans. He cleared his throat as discreetly as possible, and shook his head, trying to focus on his work despite the sinful words invading his ears.
Nicholai moaned, the sound sending shivers down Kayne’s spine. “Just thinking of you, flushed and panting. Begging for me.” Another moan echoed in his ears, and he had to bite down on his tongue to stop his own from echoing it. He could just barely make out the sound of something, and his cock pulsed when he realized it was the sound of Nicholai jacking off. “So beautiful.” The fingers at his thighs curled up and around his hips to grab his ass. “I can see you bent over the foot of my bed. Legs spread wide as you present yourself to me.” Kayne spread his legs as far as his desk would allow as the hands pulled his ass cheeks apart. “Do you remember the feeling of my teeth sinking into your asscheeks before soothing the sharp ache with my tongue?” He jumped when a set of teeth did just that before the warm tip of a tongue traced over the invisible marks. “Kayne,” Nicholai growled. The tongue swept over his skin and into the cleft of his ass to tease his entrance.
“Fuck!” Kayne slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the cry as much as possible. He glanced around, thankful those closest to him had their earbuds in and were paying their surroundings zero attention.
“Can you feel my fingers?” The question was hoarsely whispered into his ears, and he found himself nodding in answer. His hips lifted a few inches off his chair, his back bowing, as a thick finger pressed into him. “Pressing into you? Stretching you open?” He found his teeth ripping into his tongue again when a second finger plunged into him. The burn of the stretch was as real as if he were full of his lover’s fingers. Nicholai moaned incoherently, his breath ghosting over the back of Kayne’s neck.
Kayne’s eyes slipped closed, and it felt like he was there in his lover’s bedroom, the cool satin sheets against his skin. He could smell Nicholai’s favorite cedarwood body wash, and the scent spurred his hips to push back against the fingers. He could even feel the heat of the man draped over him, his chest hair scraping along his back and his beard rasping across his shoulder.
“I am sure you want my cock, yes?” Nicholai breathed.
Kayne barely stopped himself from screaming out in frustration at the sudden loss of the fingers. He silently pleaded for Nicholai to fill him back up, and the scorching hot, blunt head of Nicholai’s cock pressing against his entrance had him sighing out of relief. A dark, raspy chuckle vibrated his headphones, and Nicholai spoke quietly. “I am sure you are begging so prettily for it.” Kayne tensed, digging his nails into the arms of his desk chair as he waited for the ‘but’. “But you will have to wait for it.” There it was. Kayne wanted to scream, to demand he give him what he wanted, but swallowed back the words. “I shall see you tomorrow. Good night, Kayne.”
The phantom presence disappeared as the audio clicked off, and Kayne slowly opened his eyes. His entire body was thrumming with sexual energy, his legs and arms twitching with it. He glanced down at his lap and grimaced at the obvious bulge.
Kayne quickly unplugged the recorder, turning it off and stuffing it deep into his backpack. With shaky hands, he did his best to get back to his work and act as if nothing had happened. As if he wasn’t sitting at work with a raging hard on, and his lover’s words ringing in his ears. His eyes quickly strayed from his monitor to his backpack. Maybe Nicholai had meant for him to listen to that at home… The memory of Nicholai sporting a wicked, self-satisfied smirk on their first date as Kayne tried to hide his raging hard on under the table had him rethinking that. After all, Nicholai had sent it to his work, and in the middle of the day no less.
Kayne jumped when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Sighing, he leaned back and pulled out his phone. It was a text. From Nicholai.
Did you enjoy my gift, my Kayne?
Kayne glared at the seemingly innocent words. “That smug asshole.”
