17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

TWO INITIALS DIVIDED BY AN UNbrOKEN HEART

We crept through Aunt Lurlene's home like cuttlefish at the bottom of the deepest portion of the sea, clinging closely to the walls as if we'd hoped to fade into the paint itself. There was no reason to hide what we were doing; we were both adults, fully capable of making this decision. Still, I think we both knew this would be our series finale. One last curtain call before our whirlwind romance faded to black. Neither of us acknowledged where we were going, or the reason we were going there. We didn't need to. The look in his eyes as he clung to me after we danced. Our hearts beating in time as I held him against me. There was no other way for this show to end.

I opened the door to my childhood bedroom and ushered him in. There was a rose-scented candle on my nightstand, and as he fumbled awkwardly with his belt, I lit it, staring at the flame fanning in the breeze. The window was open, and hanging from the sill, one of Aunt Lurlene's wind chimes played out a gentle autumn song. When I turned around, Rivers was unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes clinging to me like a lighthouse, as if he needed me to guide him through the act. I placed my hand on his, stopping him.

"I want to show you something first," I said. He followed me toward the old blueberry-colored beanbag, following suit as I knelt in front of it. "Don't laugh."

"Promise," he said, kneeling down behind me and kissing the side of my neck.

I pulled the beanbag out, making visible a love letter of sorts. Our initials, bound by an unbroken heart, etched into the wooden bones of my family home. He let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a growl before wrapping his arms around my waist and rolling his hips against me. He was hard, and the pressure of it felt like solid steel against my crack.

"You weren't joking," he said, sounding surprised.

"I had the biggest crush on you, Riv." He had one hand around my waist and the other draped over my shoulder, holding me by the heart. "I didn't have a lot of friends back then. When we were assigned to do the science project together, I wanted to tell you. Wanted to rip this beanbag away from the wall and show you how I felt. I used to lie awake in bed and try to imagine this little world for us. One where you liked me back."

"I did. I swear."

"And when I came home, I was horrible to you. You didn't deserve it."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

I placed my hand over his, holding it close to my heart. "You can tell me anything."

"You're not that good of an actor. Do you really think I couldn't tell? You think I didn't notice all the times you were checking out my butt?"

I blushed, looking everywhere but at him. "In my defense, it's a spectacular ass."

He chuckled, kissing the back of my neck. "More than that, though, baby. The way you stare into my eyes. How you reached across me that first car ride back to Lurlene's—"

"You held me hostage," I said dreamily.

"You didn't have to reach across and unlock the door, Firecracker. All you had to do was tug on the handle. It would've opened."

"I wouldn't have gotten to press up against you if I hadn't," I said, surprising myself with the admission. It was like some ridiculous truth bomb had gone off inside of my head. "Sweet Jesus, I wanted to press up against you, didn't I?"

He laughed, his warm breath tickling my cheek. "I wanted to press up against you, too." His hand dipped lower until it was resting on my stomach, his nails digging gently into my shirt. "You wrote a love letter to me on your wall, Phillip." He traced the letters in the baseboard with his finger. "I wish you'd told me back then."

"I don't. It would have saved us twenty years, but you never would have had Beau. You never would have met your wife." I sighed, trying to think of any achievements of my own that might match either of those, but I came up empty-handed.

"You wouldn't have found Jordy," he said, kissing my neck, his tongue making the briefest of cameos. "You wouldn't have adopted that evil cat of yours." His grip was crushing, as if he'd forgotten that I was only human, fully capable of feeling pain. "You never would have come home to me, Firecracker." The softest of sniffles escaped him, and his grip grew even tighter. "Thank you. Thank you for coming home to me, baby."

"It was my pleasure, Riv."

His lips were like velvet against my skin, and I wanted to feel him everywhere. My neck. My lips. Lower.

Much lower.

"And for the record," he said. "RR hearted PF just as much." His hand fell a few inches lower, his pinkie grazing the base of my dick, just the once. "Are you ready?"

Unable to do much else, I nodded, and then we were in motion, standing and turning toward each other. Quietly, he removed his shirt with ease, his fingers moving in a practiced rhythm, as if he'd been preparing for this dance all his life. When I kicked off my shoes, the left one slammed against the wall with a thud. As if it would somehow unmake the noise, I shushed the discarded shoe.

Rivers peeked up, arching his eyebrow.

"Shut up," I hissed. "Just shut up."

He chuckled, shaking his head. And then his shirt was off, leaving me with the sight of a field of golden skin and thick black hair. It grew from him like weeds; inconsistently sparse patches with no real care or consideration for their placement. His chest was defined in ways mine would never be, with two dark brown centerpieces that seemed to be calling out to me.

Touch me, Firecracker, they cried. Touch—taste—take.

I approached slowly, like a shadow against the floor. He was unzipping his pants when I reached him, and I brushed his hands away, dropping to my knees and taking on the task for myself. Our eyes met, and for a moment I thought he might avert his gaze. We hadn't looked at each other all night. Not really. Not like before. I didn't want him to turn away from this. I wanted him to see me. To really see me. He needed to know how thankful I was that he'd allowed us to have this. I needed to see the same, reflected at me.

And there it was, glittering in the corners of his eyes, barely even visible. In the way his skin slid lightly against mine. In his secret smile, meant just for me.

"Firecracker," he said, and it was like someone had thrown a torch into a barrel of fuel, the flame burst bright and beautiful, lighting up the whole goddamn room. This would be what I clung to when the nights got so lonely that it felt like I was the only person left in the world. The memory of his smile. The recollection of this single moment where I was his, and he was mine.

He stumbled out of his pants, and then all that was left to separate him from me were his underwear; skin-tight boxer-briefs, black as the deepest depths of the darkest river. I needed him—all of him—just like he needed me.

Before I could pull them down, he leaned over, scooping me up by the arms, swiveling me around, and pulling me against him. He held onto me like he might disappear at any moment, and I was his only tether to this place. His touchstone to a moment that was already trickling away. His fingers danced down my chest as he unbuttoned my shirt, each movement feeling like sparks flickering against my skin. He pulled off my shirt and tossed it against the floor, bringing his teeth to my neck and nibbling softly. If I'd been worried about how he might react to the sight of my naked form, I'd been a fool. The way his hands wrapped around my waist was more than enough proof that he enjoyed the view.

His fingers fell even lower until they were resting against the waist of my slacks. He fumbled with the hook, but I was pretty sure it was more of a means to grope me than user error. As he lowered my zipper, he rolled his hips, the evidence of his arousal pressing against my ass. I shucked my pants, not caring if the sound of my buckle hitting the hardwood floors could be heard by the rest of the house. His thumbs spilled over the elastic of my briefs, his nails scraping lightly at parts of me that had gone unseen for years.

"Jesus, Phillip," he said. "How am I ever supposed to let you go?"

Then his hands were on my hips, pulling me even closer to him. I didn't flinch when his lips connected with my neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he moved toward my jaw. He didn't say a word when his fingers took hold of my nipple, giving it a delicate tweak. Best of all, he barely even flinched when I took his hand and guided him to the promised land.

"Please," I moaned, grinding against his palm. "Rivers, please."

"You looked so beautiful tonight," he said. His fingers dug into my skin, the scrape of his stubble almost unbearable. I arched my back, pressing against him. It wasn't intentional; I was running on need, not logic. Thankfully, he didn't seem to mind. He rocked forward, his dick wedged between my cloth-covered cheeks. "You look beautiful every night, but tonight… God, Phillip." His lips crashed against my neck, parting to allow the briefest touch of his tongue. "Look at me, Firecracker." It wasn't a plea. It was a demand. A commanding voice, like he knew I needed it to be. I spun around slowly until we were face to face, foreheads almost touching.

"Hey, Riv," I whispered.

"Hey, baby," he said, grazing the length of my cheekbone with his thumb. The bravado that encapsulated him only moments ago had faded. In its place, was the vision of his younger self. The boy who ran.

"Come back to me," I said.

He closed his eyes. "Still here. I just… I might not be very good at this. You're the first man I've ever…" His eyes darted down, heat flushing across his cheeks. "I just want to be good for you. I want this to be special."

"It already is."

"No, I just—" He sighed, shaking his head. "Never mind, it's silly."

"Tell me," I said. "You can tell me anything."

"I don't want you to forget me. To regret this."

"Never," I promised, lifting my hand to cup his face. "Do you hear me? Never, Rivers." Sliding my hand down his back until I reached his ass, I took him into my hand and squeezed. Christ. There it was. The object of my lust for the last two weeks. It felt just as perfect as I'd imagined it would. Soft and full, with a light dusting of hair that covered his cheeks. His breath was warm against my face, and as he pulled me to him, I rolled my hips forward, grinding our dicks together. "I fucking swear it."

In a frenzy, he jerked his hand down, tearing off his boxer-briefs before doing the same with mine. He spun us around and pushed me back, sending me toppling down onto the bed. Standing above me, he drank in the sight of me; every inch of imperfection laid bare before him. And then he took me. Right there, on my childhood bed, in a room filled with bits and pieces of my past. Trinkets that summarized the story of my youth.

On the nightstand, there was a small rainbow patch Aunt Lurlene crocheted after I came out.

On the walls, were posters of men I'd lusted over at night, though none held a candle to the man in front of me.

In one of the dresser drawers, was a faded pink sash that read, Muscadine Queen - 2001.

On the baseboard, was etched a childhood declaration that was just as true as it had ever been.

I gave myself to him without question. Without hesitation. And as he took what was his, I held his gaze for as long as I could stand it. For as long as he allowed it. My legs over his shoulders, his breath hot against my cheek.

The moment his dick made contact with my hole, I came to my senses. Jesus. Was he trying to go in dry?

"Riv, baby, hold your horses." He stared down at me, his eyebrows meeting in the center of his face.

"Am I doing it wrong?"

I reached down and took his cock in my hand. It felt even thicker than it looked. He was going to rip me fucking open. "This," I said, giving it a shake for emphasis, "is essentially a third leg. I could very well die if you tried to go in dry. Not happening." He cocked his head to the side and stared at me like my words made no sense. "Have you never had anal sex before?"

He blushed. "I told you, I'm new at this. I don't know what I'm doing here, Firecracker."

"Okay." I sat up, and the fear in his eyes was undeniable.

"I'm a fast learner, though. Just give me a chance. I'll make it good for you. I promise."

Did he think I was going to kick him out? For God's sake, the man was a god, I wasn't letting him go until I tasted every inch of him. "Lay on your back and spread your legs."

His eyes bulged. "Phillip, I don't know if I'm ready for that."

"I'm not asking you to bottom," I cooed, kissing his chest. "I'm asking you to let me show you how to get me ready. There's an art to it." He leaned back, propping himself up on my pillows, but he had his knees pulled together, hiding himself away from me. I reached forward and tapped his knee. "Knock, knock." Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Rivers spread his legs, giving me an unobstructed view of everything. Jesus. He was like a work of art. A fine wine that just got better with age—not that I had a memory of his younger self to compare it to, but still. I rubbed my hands up and down the sides of his thighs as I drank the sight of him in.

He was hairier than I expected, but it was a welcome surprise. A thick bush of black hair surrounded his cock, and even with a forest surrounding it, it still stood proudly like a tree amongst weeds. He was uncut, which was another welcome surprise. Living in London, the vast majority of men I'd been with had been uncut, and I'd grown accustomed to the adorable hood. Rivers' was pulled back, the skin circling halfway down the head. As I reached for his cock, his eyes widened like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Like the thought of my hand on his dick was some unexpected turn of events he never could have planned for.

I wrapped my hand around his shaft. Did I whimper when I realized how thick it was? Perhaps. Did it deter my desire to sit on it and ride Rivers Rivera until dawn? Honestly, a little, but I was a champ, and I was nothing if not resilient.

Leaning down, I placed a kiss on the underside of his cock, right where the foreskin ended and the head peaked out like the morning sun over the horizon. The moment my mouth touched his skin, a pearl of pre-cum spilled over, coating my lips. Pulling away, I looked into his eyes and traced my tongue around my mouth, collecting every drop.

"Oh my God," he whispered.

"You taste delicious." Returning to his dick, I ran my tongue around the head, sighing contently when another bead of precum touched the tip. Tracing my tongue around the end of his foreskin, I looked up at him and winked before diving in. The sounds he made as I worked him into my throat were nothing short of animalistic. His hips were rolling instinctually, and his fingers threaded through my hair, guiding me at the pace he preferred.

With each attempt, I swallowed more and more of him until I finally reached the base. With a throatful of cock, I glanced up at him, wanting him to see the appreciation in my eyes for letting us have this. Breathing in through my nose, I stared into his eyes, pleading, though unsure of what I was actually wanting from him.

"Phillip," he whispered, reaching down and stroking my cheek with his thumb. "So beautiful, baby." I wasn't sure if the tear he wiped away was caused by the cock lodged halfway down my esophagus, or from his words. It didn't seem to matter, because he just wiped the wetness from my cheek and nodded. "Keep going, Firecracker."

Using his hands to tug my hair, he gently pried himself out of my throat, but before I could recover, he started gently thrusting forward until his cock tickled my tonsils. I moaned around him, not caring that I couldn't breathe. Not giving a damn that everyone on the second floor could probably hear me choking on his dick. Not wanting to ever let my Rivers go.

So, as I stared into his eyes, through a full mouth, I made a muffled admission I had no right to make. One I knew he wouldn't be able to understand.

I think I love you, Riv.

He paused for a moment, and it felt like I'd just gotten caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Had he heard the words? Was I hoping he had? I wasn't entirely sure. He made no admissions of his own, so I figured I was in the clear, but I still purred like a kitten when he touched my cheek and said, "Good boy."

I serviced him for a little while longer before pulling off his cock and attempting to speak. My throat was raw, and my voice sounded cracked and broken when I spoke. "Scoot down farther."

Without question, he slid down, revealing more of his ass. I didn't have to tell him to pull his knees closer to his chest to give me access, it was like he knew what was coming, and was more than eager to get us there.

I grabbed a cheek with each hand and squeezed, kneading my thumbs into the fleshy humps. I wasn't sure how long I spent groping the two-week object of my desire, but the sound of Rivers' throat clearing snapped me out of my haze. When I looked up at him, he was smiling ear-to-ear.

"Having fun down there?"

I gave his cheeks another squeeze and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Promise you'll still respect me in the morning?"

"Huh?" He seemed genuinely confused by the request, and as I spread his cheeks, revealing a tight, pink pucker that looked ripe and ready for me, he gasped. "What are you about to do? I'm serious, Phillip. I'm not ready for that."

I rolled my eyes. "And I told you, I'm a strict bottom." I reached down and gripped my cock, shaking it for emphasis. "This guy right here isn't a big fan of penetrating anything other than a mouth or a fist."

"Then what are you going to—"

Before he could finish, I lunged forward, running on pure desire and determination. His hole was less than an inch from me, and just like his cock, it was surrounded by a glorious dusting of fur. I said a prayer to a god I didn't particularly believe in that my actions wouldn't send Rivers running for the door. I breathed him in, inhaling the scent of evening sweat and his natural musk. Worrying he might pull away if I stalled for too long, I grazed his entrance with my thumb, eliciting a moan from him.

"Oh, my God," he whispered. I wasn't sure if he even realized he was arching his back, seeking contact, but that's exactly what I gave him. Contact. An unbreakable connection. Judging by his reaction to my touch, I was fairly confident his wife had never done what I was about to. I loved that. Getting to be his first. Wanting to be his only.

I extended my tongue just enough to make contact, and the sensation of wet warmth made Rivers cry out. The sound he made was raw and feral. It was like he'd been given entry to a land he never knew existed. I watched as his hole spasmed, clenching tight and opening back up for me each time my tongue touched down. All it took was one well-timed moan for me to lose myself in the moment. The second my name left his mouth, my mouth was between his cheeks, licking and lapping as the tight ring in front of me.

God, I could have eaten his ass for days. I could have bundled myself up into a little ball of sass and sparkle and just lived in his crack. I would happily reside in the valley between his cheeks. Maybe plant a little tent next to his hole so I could visit it any time I saw fit.

"Wanna live inside you. Never wanna leave," I said between licks. "Wanna fucking claim you." I moved away from his asshole and worked my way up his crack, nibbling upward until I reached his taint. Not wanting it to end, I gave the bare patch of skin my undivided attention, licking and kissing every inch of flesh.

"Jesus, Phillip. That's… fuck. "

"Mine," I barked between kisses. I looked up at him, pleased to see that his eyes were almost closed, his pupils blown wide. "Do you hear me, Rivers?" I pressed my thumb against his hole and put pressure against it—just enough to get his attention, but not enough to breach the rim. "This is mine. I swear to God, if I find out you've let someone else have it, I'll set your goddamn house on fire."

He whimpered, his body writhing beneath me as his soft moans filled my childhood bedroom. "Please. Phillip, please."

"What do you need?" I wrapped my hand around his shaft and slowly stroked his cock. "Tell me what you need and it's yours. Anything."

"Anything?" he whispered, his voice small—almost broken. I took the head of his cock into my mouth and swirled my tongue around the slit, moaning when another stream of pre-cum poured into my mouth. He stared at me as I nursed his cock, and the sight of one lonely little teardrop made me pull away.

"What's wrong?"

"Anything, Firecracker?"

I nodded, because whatever he wanted, I would give it to him. I didn't care how depraved the act might be, all he had to do was say the word. Fuck, with a naked Rivers Rivera in my bed, I kind of wanted depravity. The kinkier, the better. "Anything, baby." He sat up and crossed his legs, depriving me the wonderful view I'd had of his hole. "Hey, I wasn't done with—"

"Stay," he said, cupping my cheek. "Please, Phillip." Leaning in, he pressed his forehead against my chest. "Don't leave me. I promise, I'm worth it. We can be worth it. You've just got to give us the chance."

Oh, God.

"Rivers, I…" I tried to speak. Really, I did. The words were there. Hell, they'd been there for the better part of a week.

Yes.

It was just one fucking word. Why couldn't I say it?

What was waiting for me back home? A series of life-threatening dates with disastrous and dangerous men? A cold, lonely bed that was only ever warmed by my unpaid intern?

But what Rivers was offering me—this fast-track shot at a relationship—was only two weeks in the making. Moving countries, working toward a future with a man I hardly knew, that was madness. It was actual muscadine madness.

Yes.

One syllable held the power to turn my entire world around. To set the sky on fire, burning the Earth's axis to dust, and sending me free-falling into space without hope of rescue. I wanted to say it. I wanted to say the word so badly that it felt like it was crawling up my throat.

So, when I couldn't control my voice, I busied my mouth by kissing the top of his head. I hooked my finger beneath his chin and tugged until he was staring at me. The tears on his cheek had no business residing there, so I leaned in and kissed them away, wishing it could somehow remove the pain he was feeling as well.

"I want you to fuck me, Rivers," I whispered.

He sniffled, and the sound of it shattered my already-cracking heart. With a nod, he attempted a smile, but between the hurt in his eyes and the way his jaw was trembling, he just looked like he was about to have a seizure.

"I can do that," he said, kissing me right between the eyes. "I'd like that."

There was a small bottle of lube in the nightstand, and as I reached for it, Rivers took advantage of the moment, grabbing me by the back of my neck and guiding me to his mouth. We kissed for what seemed like hours, our cocks rubbing together until the only sounds in the room were our frenzied moans and scattered breaths. He slid his hand down my back, his fingers grazing up and down my crack.

"I want to try something."

I arch an eyebrow at him. "And what might that be?"

He winked at me. "Can't spoil the surprise, Firecracker." And then, giving me no chance to react, Rivers grabbed me by the ankles, pushing my legs up until my thighs touched my chest. In seconds, he was between my legs, sucking my balls. His finger traced my entrance, occasionally applying enough pressure that I thought he would attempt to break the rim.

I reached for the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of lube from the drawer. "Riv?"

He pulled off my balls long enough to look up at me. "Yeah?"

"You look beautiful between my legs. I mean, you look beautiful all the time, but right now?" I let out a lurid whimper when he sucked the head of my cock like he was nursing on it. "Fucking perfection."

He leaned in and licked my balls as if he was trying to drive the point home. His tongue didn't stop at my sack, however. When he reached the tender spot between my balls and my shaft, he continued, shelling his tongue around the underside of my cock, not breaking eye contact as he worked his way up. At the tip, a bead of pre-cum stood proudly, and the moment it touched his tongue, fire flashed in his eyes. He gave me no chance to prepare for the warmth of his mouth. He just dove all the way to my base, gagging violently around my dick. I tried to pull out, but he sucked, hollowing his cheeks until his mouth was molded perfectly around me. I tried again, but the bastard growled at me like a rabid dog.

"My god. Are you sure you've never sucked dick before? Because you're kind of a pro."

He grabbed the lube out of my hand and popped the cap. I wasn't sure how he coated his fingers in lube without removing my cock from his mouth, but he managed to do so with ease. I writhed beneath him as he teased my hole, the slick sensation of cold lube causing me to tremble.

He pulled off my dick and stared down at his finger. At first, I worried he was regretting this. That something had snapped inside of him and he realized his attempt at bisexuality had simply been unsuccessful and unrewarding.

I didn't want this to end.

I never wanted it to end.

The thought of Rivers realizing he no longer wanted this pierced my heart. It was an unbearable ache that had no business residing inside of me. I opened my mouth to ask if he was alright, but he placed his finger over my lips like he knew what I was going to say.

"It's not you. It's just… I don't know what I'm doing," he said, his voice small and cracked with nerves. "How do I make this good for you?"

"It's already been perfect." I wrapped my hand around my cock and gave it a stroke, pulling his attention back to me. "But you want to start with one finger. I'll let you know when I'm ready for another."

"How many fingers are we aiming for?"

"Normally, I'd say three, but with that goddamn mammoth cock of yours, best we aim for four, yeah?"

He stared up at me with a goofy, love-drunk smile plastered on his face. "A mammoth cock?"

I nodded. "I knew it would be big, by the bulge that you constantly rock, but my God, Rivers. The thing deserves its own postal code.”

Rivers tapped my hole. "I think it would rather live inside here. Burrow inside and never come out again."

I whimpered, because Jesus actual Christ, I wanted that. I wanted that more than anything. "Same."

As Rivers worked me open, his eyes flickered back and forth between my hole and my smiling face. He asked me over and over if I was alright. As much as I loved the care and concern he was showing, I wanted him to take the lead. To take charge and take what he wanted.

"How many is that?" I said. "Three?"

Rivers shook his head. "We're up to four now."

I bit my nip and sucked in a sharp breath. Okay. It was time. No backing out.

"I think I'm ready, Riv," I said. Instead of lining up his cock with my hole like I expected, he lowered himself in front of me and stared at it, brushing his thumb across.

"It's beautiful," he whispered. "I didn't expect it to be. I don't know what I was expecting, but it's perfect." He looked up, and God, that smile would be the death of me. It was like he was pouring every part of him into it as a parting gift. Condensing himself down to that one, simple act so I could hold on to it and return to the moment anytime I needed. His lips were puckered as he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss against my skin. "I love…" I watched as his eyes closed, and a bit of his confidence faded. "I just love it, I guess."

I swallowed down all of those usual, nasty feelings of self-doubt, and I took a chance I normally wouldn't. " It loves you too, Riv."

"It does?" If there was any hesitance in him, it faded in an instant. He rushed up the bed and slammed his lips against mine. As our tongues tangled, he made the neediest sounds, each one making my dick twitch against his thigh. "I love it, " he said between his kisses. I don't know how many times he said it, but soon enough, it seemed like they were the only words left in the world. "God, I love it, Phillip."

As nice as it felt to hear the words, I was worried he might make a slip, and one of those it 's might come out as you, and that wasn't a declaration I wasn't ready to deal with.

"I'm ready," I whispered, pulling away from his kiss. "I've got condoms in the drawer." He stared at me, a question half-formed on his lips. "Unless you want to go in bare. It's your call, Riv. I was tested last month."

"I haven't been tested, but I've only ever been with Sabrina."

"I know," I said, cupping his cheek. "I trust you. It's your call. Whatever you want is fine with me."

He nodded, and then he turned his attention to the discarded bottle of lube. Cracking the top open, he squirted a liberal amount in his palm and spread it across his shaft. As he readied himself for me, I drank in the sight of my mayor. The sheen of sweat covering his body. The fur on his chest that grew like a forest. And the way the head peeked out from his foreskin each time he stroked himself.

Rivers lined himself up with my hole and gave me one final nod. "You're sure?"

I placed my hand on top of his, holding his palm against my thigh. "I've never been surer."

And then, pressure.

Rivers slowly worked his way inside of me, and the sensation of fullness was almost unbearable. I bared down, trying to allow him entry. It took a while, but once I felt his pubes against my ass, I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you okay?" he said. "Do you need me to stop?"

"No, just—slow. Just go slow." Slowly, he rolled his hips back, and the feeling of his cock moving inside of me made my entire body shake. "Oh, my fucking God. Big. You're so fucking big, Rivers."

"Careful," he whispered, leaning in and kissing my forehead. "If you keep talking like that, I'm going to get a big head."

I desperately shook my head. "No. Fuck no, Riv. It's already big enough. Feels like I'm sitting on a fucking pogo stick."

He nipped my chin with his teeth. "You have such a filthy mouth. I love that about you." I wasn't sure what caused him to slip, but as he fell forward, impaling me even deeper, the head of his cock hit my prostate, and it was like someone set a bomb off inside of me. Little explosions of pleasure spread through my body.

"Oh, God," I moaned. "More. Please? I'm ready."

"Yeah?" he said, slowly pulling out until only the head was still inside. "Are you sure about that? A second ago you said I needed to go slow because of my—"

"Mammoth cock. Yes, Rivers, I remember." I narrowed my eyes. "And if you don't fucking fuck me, I'm going to cut the son of a bitch off."

He arched an eyebrow at me. "You know what I find funny?" He slammed his cock back in me, mercilessly pummeling my prostate. "Ever since I got inside of you, I haven't heard that adorable little accent of yours. Guess you're American by injection."

I glared at him. "Cheery-fucking-O. Now shut up and fuck me."

And that's just what he did. Every push was an epiphany. Every thrust, a declaration. And I saw him, truly. The boy he was. The man he became. Everything we ever were, and all we could have been. In that moment, with his fingers tracing areas I'd kept hidden for years, he made me his, handling me with care until I couldn't stand it.

After one particularly rough thrust, I gasped, and he stopped moving. He stared at me, studying my face. "Did I hurt you?"

"So good." I dug my nails into his back and guided him to my lips. When his tongue touched mine, it seemed to put him at ease, and he rolled his hips slowly, driving himself into me.

"God, you're tight," he said, his wrapping around me, stroking in time with his thrusts. "So good for me, baby."

"Fuck me," I rasped, trying to match his rhythm. My pleas fell like rain against the river. Words like "Rivers, please." And, "Harder." And, "Need you." And, "Faster." And, "More. More-God-more." They collided against the surface as pressure mounted in my spine. Our lips clashed like untrained dancers, each of us out of rhythm and coming in at awkward angles. Eventually, when we found our groove, it was everything I needed it to be. Tongue. Teeth. Saliva. His fingers in my hair. My hands against his ass, guiding him toward completion.

He cried out when he came—a wild, ferocious sound that seemed to shake the walls around us. Somewhere along the way, a picture had fallen from my nightstand, causing the class to shatter and wood to splinter off every which way.

When it was done, as we lay there in the half-light, when the sun and the stars met at the edge of the world, I told him, "I could have loved you, Rivers."

He smiled at me, bright, through sleepy eyes. I held him as long as I could, well after sleep had claimed him, listening as he breathed. In and out, in and out. And as he slept—as he mumbled incoherently beneath his breath—he whispered one quiet declaration that was mine to keep.

"I love you too, Firecracker."