Chapter 4

Wren

Christian isn’t wrong. It’s real fucking nice being with him. He’s so responsive and respectful. I should hate it, but I crave it. It’s been a month since the wedding, and it still feels like the first time every time I kiss him.

And what’s even worse is I’m falling for him. Big time. Yesterday, he brought me flowers. A fucking bouquet. They’re sitting in a vase on my shitty island in my shitty apartment. And he’s coming over tonight after work. He’s going to make me dinner.

I don’t know why, but he makes me swoon.

I hate that I’m being reduced to this, but I love it all the same. Never really had anyone so normal before, so stable, and I crave it.

When he finally gets to my place, he pulls me into a tender kiss, and I melt against him. It’s more than just sex with him; he makes me feel things. Always has, and it seems he’ll continue to do so.

“You okay?” he asks, his hand rubbing up and down my back.

“Yeah, totally fine.”

“You hungry for dinner?” he asks and I watch as he sets the bags on my kitchen counter and gets to work. He slides an apron over his muscular body and I honestly want him to be wearing nothing underneath it. I want him completely naked next time.

But I don’t say that; just grab a beer and pop the top, offering him one, but knowing he’s going to refuse. He’s so good, much too good for me, and yet I’m still holding on.

I want this.

I want him.

When dinner is finally ready, and we sit down to eat it, his ankle links with mine. He’s always touching me, cuddling me. I should hate it, but I want it so badly.

“So, I um, told my sister about us,” he blurts after a moment of silence.

The noodle in my mouth goes down the wrong hole and I choke, sputtering and gasping for air.

“What the fuck?” I finally manage after I can breathe.

“Yeah, she was…confused, but wants to meet you. If you want.”

“Yeah, if you want me to.”

“I do. I, um, well, and there’s a little bit of a problem.”

I brace myself for that. Don’t know what the problem is, but it makes me feel like I’m having a stroke.

“I kinda told her you’re my boyfriend.”

I stare at him and my heart thuds in my chest.

“Why’d you do that?”

“I dunno.”

He shifts in his chair and looks almost embarrassed. But I’m having all sorts of feelings, and none of them are bad.

“Sorry, I should have talked to you about it first. You may not even want to be my boyfriend?—”

I stop him right then, leaning forward and pressing my lips to his.

“Shut up. We can be boyfriends. Might as well.” I shrug, like it’s no big deal, but internally I’m swooning. He does the most ridiculously romantic things.

I always thought we’d be bad together, too different, but we work perfectly .

It’s disconcerting at times, but I still want it. Want him.

“Cool,” he says and then grins softly at me. Makes me melt a little. “I’m really glad.”

When we finally finish cleaning up the kitchen and we’re in the shower, I let him wrap his arms around me and kiss me deeply. We manage a quick wash between our sloppy make-out session, and when we finally make it to the bedroom, we don’t even bother fully drying off, just fall to the mattress still wet.

Our bodies slide against each other as my lips explore his body.

“Can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” he whispers as I tug his nipple into my mouth and make him whimper.

“I am. I’m the best boyfriend, too.”

“Yeah. You are.”

His hands thread through my hair and tug gently.

“Thinking highly of yourself?” I ask, and he chuckles with a low moan when I pull his cock into my mouth.

“You’re the best boyfriend, too. Don’t know how I got so lucky.”

I don’t know why he thinks that, but it still makes me puff up like a fucking peacock all the same. He does that a lot: compliments me. And it helps that he’s showing and not telling, gasping and writhing beneath me as I slowly suck him down, my lubed finger moving into his ass and pressing against his prostate. He cries out and I add a second one, scissoring him open.

I haven’t been inside of him yet, not fully. It’s usually me being fucked, but I don’t mind, not at all. I love how he just loses control when he’s inside of me, the way he comes so hard he nearly blacks out. It’s fucking delicious. And it never gets old. Perhaps monogamy is for me, after all.

Maybe I was just waiting for Christian all this time.

“Want you,” he groans. “Want you inside of me, please, Wren!”

I pop off his dick, unsure I heard him right. Because I could be hallucinating. There are days I’ve woken up this month and wondered if I’m in a dream.

This is all too good to be true .

My fingers continue to massage his hole, making his cock sputter and leak.

“Say that again.”

“I want you inside of me.”

“You sure?” I ask and then gaze down at my pierced cock. It’s hard and angry, wanting to do what he asks, but I don’t want to hurt him.

I never want to hurt him. I’ve come to…care for him. This is more than just good sex. I crave his company, listening to him tell me about his day, the way he cuddles up next to me on the couch as we watch TV.

“Yes, please. I’ve wanted this for a while, I just…” he groans when I press against his prostate, massaging it softly. “Oh god, I want you inside of me.”

“Say it then. Say, ‘ fuck me, Wren .’”

He blushes, and it’s so endearing.

“Please…fu—fuck me, Wren.”

I groan at that, at his naughty mouth, and move up to kiss him roughly, pushing a third finger inside just as my tongue plunders, taking what’s mine. He lifts his hips and fucks back against my hand, taking me so well. He always does. He’s so eager.

“You want to ride me?” I ask when I finally move my mouth from his.

His lips are spit-slick and red.

“It might be easiest and you can control it.”

“No, I want you to be in control. I want you to take me. Missionary style and then later, doggy.”

I moan at that and then grab the lube, shuffling back down his perfect body and stuffing more of the liquid inside of him, making sure he’s open and wet, so my cock doesn’t hurt when it pushes inside of him.

And then I wet my own cock, making sure it’s slick enough to slide in before slotting it right at his hole.

“Are you sure? ”

“Yes, I want you to take me, Wren.”

The sweet way he says that makes me drop my lips to his, pushing into his mouth just as I push into his hole. My pierced cockhead pops inside and he gasps, his legs falling open wider as I continue to kiss him through any sting of pain.

“Okay?” I ask, nearly breathless.

“Oh gosh, so good,” he moans and then reaches down to grab my ass, sliding me further inside of him, inch by inch, until I’m fully seated and fuck, the way he clenches around me, the heat of him. It’s too good.

“You feel so damn right, Christian.”

“So do you,” he says, his hands moving through my hair. “I love it.”

“Me too. I fucking love this. Love fucking you.”

I arch my hips back and then slowly push back into him, making him cry out.

“Wren! Yes! Your piercing…ah!”

I don’t stop after that; I continue to work him over the edge, leaning down to nip at his Adam’s apple, his chin, and lips until he’s crying out my name and spilling across his abdomen. That makes my own release crest and I follow him over a minute later, filling up his virgin ass with my cum.

When I finally pull out, I fall to his side and he looks at me with such adoration that my heart nearly bursts from it. I can’t stand it and yet I want more of it.

“I…I love you,” he says softly, looking almost shy as he utters those words.

They settle somewhere in my chest and bloom rapidly. I feel warm all over, like I’m standing right under the sun.

“You don’t know that,” I reply softly.

“I do,” he says and then reaches out and touches my cheek tenderly. “You don’t have to say it back, but…I can’t help how I feel.”

“It’s only been a month.”

He grins at me and then sighs, turning his gaze back at the ceiling, his eyelids drooping.

“Doesn’t matter. Think I’ve been into you for ages. But having you like this…well, can’t help how I feel. I love you, Wren. Deal with it.”

I don’t know how he can be so open with his feelings, but it makes something broken inside of me stitch together and when I press into him, our bodies slipping into sleep, I can’t help but think that maybe I could feel the same thing.

And when his breathing turns into soft snores, I whisper into his ear.

“Love you, too.”