gluten-free creaming
The cake was almost ready.
Xehanort pulled back, humming as he inspected it. The glaze was settling nicely, the sweet smell of cherries and whipped cream pleasant. It just needed a few finishing touches; then it would be perfect.
A weight shifted on his foot, followed by a breathy sigh. “Hey.”
He ignored it, searching for the bowl of cherries he had set out. It should be around here somewhere—ah, there it was.
The weight on his foot grew heavier; his movements halted—a frustrated “Hey!” this time.
Xehanort sighed, lowering his gaze and staring Sora down, who currently held onto his leg tightly. The teen straddled his boot, lower half bare as he rocked forward, slick shining on the fine leather of his shoe. “What is it, Sora?”
Sora shifted forward again, biting his lip to hold back his moan, the muscles in his thighs quivering—delightfully so. “A-Aren’t you forgetting something?” he said almost shyly, trailing one hand down his front, stopping right on top of his wet slit. He pushed a finger in, jolting slightly. “S-Something important?”
His pupils dilated. Oh, Sora must’ve rubbed up against his clit. His throbbing, sensitive clit that was just begging to be—
Xehanort snorted, gesturing toward the cake with his chin. “No, I’m not. I’m very observational.”
Sora groaned, pulling his hand back. “Our anniversary!” His face was flushed a bright red, seemingly embarrassed. “It’s today! Don’t you remember your promise?”
He turned the best he could, leaning back against the counter. Sora’s body was warm against his shoe. “Oh right, how could I ever forget?” he tapped his chin. “Why, it’s almost as if this cake means something. But that’s just silly, isn’t it?” he asked with a raised brow.
Sora’s eyebrow twitched, clearly irritated.
“Just hold your horses, Sora. It’ll come soon enough,” Xehanort said, lifting his foot and smiling when Sora gasped, the teen grasping at his pant leg desperately. “You’re just being spoiled.” He moved his foot again, Sora biting his bottom lip hard. “Isn’t that toy enough for you?”
Sora peered up at him, chest rising with labored breaths. “Y-Yeah… Yeah, maybe you’re right,” he pressed down, huffing out a laugh, “Now that I think about it, it feels a million times better than yours.”
“Exactly,” Xehanort turned his attention back toward the counter. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Sora, I have a cake to finish.”
He couldn’t help but smile when Sora groaned loudly in frustration. He knew that the toy wouldn’t satisfy Sora, not in the slightest. But it was all part of the game.
He snickered to himself, lifting the bowl of cherries. He knew that Sora was trying to win him over by making him jealous. As if he would get jealous over some cheap strap-on toy that was probably no bigger than the spoons they had in the kitchen.
Xehanort hummed as he felt Sora fuck himself on the toy slowly.
Just a little longer, then Sora would be begging him for a good fuck, degrading himself in any manner necessary. And what a sight it would be to see Sora’s eyes fill with tears, holding his wet cunt open, jutting his hips out and asking to be br—
“I wonder if Eraqus would help.”
Xehanort dropped the bowl.
Sora sat back, still slowly rocking himself on the toy. “I know he mentioned being in the area today,” he hummed to himself, thinking aloud, “So I wonder if—ah!” he gasped, his body roughly shoved back against the counters.
Xehanort held him by the neck roughly, eyebrow twitching as he glared Sora down. He yanked his foot back, the toy slipping out of Sora with a loud, wet pop. “What was that?”
Sora smiled at him, a light twinkling in his eyes. The cheeky brat.
“You heard me.”
His lips curled into a sneer. “So unless I fuck you within an inch of your life this very instant, you plan to go spread yourself like a bitch in heat.”
Sora swallowed, trembling with excitement. Xehanort could feel Sora’s pulse beat strong beneath his hand. He let go, Sora gasping for air.
“Alright then, Sora, ” he answered firmly. He reached to unbuckle his belt. He’d teach the brat a lesson for trying—yes, trying; he didn’t succeed—to make him jealous. “How foolish of me to forget to eat a proper meal before dessert.”
Sora pulled his thighs up, licking his lips as Xehanort pulled his cock out of his pants. “Chef’s special,” he batted his eyelashes in that infuriatingly charming manner, a smile ever-present, knowing that he had won (this time at least), “Dig in.”