32. Milo

There'sa knock on my door. My heart skips a beat. My breath hitches. I open the door, and Keaton's there in all his glory.

"You love me?" he asks with the needy voice he uses when he wants me to allow him release.

He's still wearing the clothes from his Instagram live, only a little more disheveled. A black suit, unbuttoned jacket, the matching tie loose around his collar. The shirt underneath looks creased and his hair is an absolute mess, but the need in his face is more apparent than ever before.

"Do you love me?" I tease because I can.

Now that I know how he really feels, I can't help myself because I already know the answer. I mean, he blasted it all over the internet. He didn't have to, yet he did.

"God, more than anything," he says, all desperate and breathless.

"God, huh? You've never called me that before." I grab him by the tie and pull him into the apartment, kicking the door shut and dragging his body to mine so I can taste his lips. "Fuck me! I've missed those lips."

I push my tongue to the roof of my mouth and wait for him to assume the role, to get into the moment.

"You never answered my question," he says instead.

It just about melts my heart that he needs to ask, that he didn't believe my message, that he needs the verbal confirmation. I can't blame him though. For as long as we've been together, we've avoided words like "love." I thought I was the only one, but now I know I wasn't.

So, as my heart melts in front of him, I take his face in my hands and touch my forehead to his. We breathe into each other's face for a moment that turns to two.

"I do. I love you, Keaton. I love you, my Keaton. I love you, my boy."

I pull his lips back to mine and savor their sweet, juicy taste. It might have only been a few hours since we've been together, in each other's presence, in each other's range, but it feels like eons.

"I really thought I'd lost you for good," I tell him and resume dragging him by the tie.

We need my bed, and we need it stat. Now that I know Keaton wants me, I can't contain myself, and I need to give myself to him. Fully. With heart, cock, and soul.

"Me too. I thought you hated me."

I push the bedroom door open and stop him short of the bed. I stroke his cheek, his mouth, his ears. How could he ever think that?

"Hate you? How could I possibly hate you? You're my boy. Always have been. Always will be."

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and I stare at his lower lip, fighting the urge to bite it.

"Good. Because I'd be completely lost without you. The last few hours have been the worst of my whole fucking life."

Fuck. The skin on the back of my neck feels soft and numb at the same time and my heart pinches at the admission.

Am I really hearing all these beautiful, gorgeous things come out of his mouth? Is he really saying all that stuff to me? Because it's what I've been dreaming of since I met him, and I can't contain the heat that seeps from inside me, from within my heart.

"Oh, my beautiful boy. My kitty. I hated every second without you today."

I put my hand on his chest and push him, then climb on top of him and kiss him. I can't help myself. I don't want to help myself. I rub myself all over him. Every part of me I can glue to him is another part that feels complete.

Somehow, I manage to shed our clothes. Shirts come off, ties fly across the room, and pants get dragged across the sheets, but I don't care how it happens. I only care that it does so we can get closer than ever before.

The more I kiss him, the more at peace I feel, and naturally, the harder. It doesn't take long for us to align our cocks and grind against each other.

"I love you. Fuck, I love you," I mumble into his mouth.

Suddenly, there's pressure on the back of my head. Keaton's firm hand. He intensifies our kiss, with tongues clashing, teeth biting, and breaths warming. We groan into each other's mouths before long, and I feel like I'm bursting at the seams from how much I need him.

I need him like a thirsty man needs water. I need him like a hungry man needs food. I need him?—

"Fuck me, Keaton," I tell him, no doubt or hesitation in my voice.

"What?" He stops and lets go of my head.

I don't know why he's so surprised by it. It's not like it's the first time I've asked him to top me. "I said, I want you to fuck me, boy. Do it. Do it now and do it good."

Keaton nods like a bobblehead and turns to find the lube and condom on my nightstand, but when he attempts to tear the wrapper with his teeth, I stop him.

"No, you don't. I want you inside me raw and real, baby."

"You sure?" he asks, the condom still between his teeth.

"We both know we're negative, so yeah, I'm fucking sure. Fuck me. Fuck me, baby."

He slathers lube on his cock in record time and pushes his crown against my hole.

"Fuck!" I bite down on my lip and press against his chest as my ring of muscle flexes, and he fills every inch inside me with his thickness.

A hiss sits at the back of my throat. I look down at him. His face contorts with pleasure the deeper inside me he gets, slow enough to give me time to adjust to his size but desperate enough to already be short of breath.

Pain gives way to pleasure, and I let out the hiss I've been holding, dropping over him and claiming his lips with the same intensity he's claiming my body.

"Fuck me, kitty." I groan into his mouth. "Fuck my hole, sweetheart. Fill me up with your thick, hot cock."

He bucks his hips a little more and slams into me with wild abandon, making me lose my breath, my sight, and my senses in general. My eyes roll back as I let out the screams of joy he's causing me.

"How is that, Daddy?"

"Really good, my boy. Oh yes. Ngh! Yeah. Good job, my boy. Good job, my kitty cat. Keep going. Fuck me ‘til I'm raw. Fuck me ‘til I beg you to stop. Fuck me long after that. I want you inside me. I want you inside me forever, my boy."

And I'll be damned if that isn't the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the fucking?—

"Agh, yes. Right there. Keep that angle," I tell him when he hits my prostate. My knees go all shaky as I try to stay as still as possible so he can keep doing that, but I can only last so long before I collapse on top of him, my legs giving up on me and feeling like jelly.

"Don't worry, Daddy. I'll take care of you. I promise. I'll do all the work. You sit back and enjoy your boy."

He turns us both, my back hits the comforter, and he takes over fucking into me like it's no one's business.

"You're such a good boy. You're such a good boy to your Daddy. Such a good boy to me," I say because it's the only thing that can come out of my mouth.

I want to keep telling him what to do, how to fuck me, how fast, but all I can keep repeating is how good he is.

Because he is. He's always been good to me. In bed, beside it, out of it. In every room. In every city. On every continent.

I don't deserve him. I swear I don't, but I'm not going to reject him just because I don't think a man like me deserves a guy like Keaton. A guy so gentle, kind and funny, sexy and cute.

No, I don't deserve him. And he probably thinks he doesn't deserve me, and that's exactly why we're perfect for each other.

Our bodies slam together over and over until we're both panting and sweat beads on every inch, but he doesn't stop.

He only adds to his work when he grabs my soft cock and flicks my foreskin with his thumb. I may have neglected my erection while he fucked me, but it doesn't take longer than a nanosecond for my cock to rouse and harden, and soon, I'm fucking his hand in rhythm to him fucking my hole.

See? We're so good together. Like the missing parts of a puzzle finally coming together.

"Complete me, my boy. Fill me. Fill me with your seed. Make me complete."

It's not an order. It's a plea. A plea he's all too happy to answer. He groans and pushes all the way in until his pubic bone hits my taint, and I just about lose it. It hits my taint again and again, but the goosebumps course through my body, squeezing all the oxygen out of my lungs and pushing down to my stomach until I explode all over both his chest and mine.

I've never felt so good being jerked off like now. But then again, I've never been fucked like this before. With heart, cock, and soul. I haven't given myself to someone so completely before.

And it makes a difference.

I feel it spreading through me like butterflies, starting from my prostate all the way to my toes and the top of my head.

I can't believe we've spent so long denying our feelings for each other, hiding them like a dirty secret when, in fact, it was the hiding part that was dirty. Because this? This is short of divine.

"I'm close," he warns and falls on top of me.

"Hey, Kit Kat?" I tell him.

"Huh?" he says in a daze, but his eyes shine like lighthouses calling me home.

Of course I follow their call. I have no choice. I never did. I was a goner from the get-go.

"I love you," I say. "I love you so so fucking much it hurts my teeth saying it. I love you." He groans. "I love you like I've never loved anyone before. I love you with everything I have."

"I-I love you too, baby." His voice is shaky and raspy.

Then he lets out a loud moan, and I feel hotter than a second ago. Keaton falls on top of me but keeps us connected and breathes into my neck.

I put my arms around him, wrap my legs around his hips as I feel his cock throb inside me, loading me with his seed. I kiss him.

Or bodies stick together from the mix of cum and sweat. It's hot and wet and messy, but I wouldn't have it any other way.