23. Ronan

Being inside Fletcher is unlike anything I've ever experienced, and I don't think it really has that much to do with the tight heat wrapped around my cock or his beautiful body underneath mine.

I mean, that's part of it, yes, but the connection I feel... it's unmatched.

And I'm never coming back from this. I know it deep down. I'll never be the same.

"I need you to move. I'm dying here," he says, his hands gripping my biceps, a line of sweat formed on his forehead, making it slippery when I move my head from side to side in a slow motion.

I pull away from his forehead and look down into his eyes. "You feel so damn good."

There's that playful, cocky smile I'm used to. Just peering up at me with mirth. I fucking love it. I love everything about him.

I love . . .

That hollow, numb feeling starts to threaten, but I push it away along with any rogue thoughts. Talking about my past, about how hard I worked to get to where I am, should only strengthen my need not to jeopardize my job, but being here with him... I think in this moment, I'd give everything up just to be with him.

And that thought is the most terrifying thing that's ever crossed my mind.

You can do this, Ronan. Keep it together.

"Are you okay?" he rasps, and I nod my head, unable to form actual words. I pull back, nearly leaving his body. But then, I push back into him slowly, the chords in my neck pulling tight as I take in every single sensation.

He's warm and tight, strangling my cock as he squeezes around me. "Yes. Just like that."

I move in and out of him slowly, an agonizing pace, but I allow myself to feel every single moment.

"Harder. Don't be gentle with me," he says, his hands moving to my bare ass, squeezing my cheeks and pushing me further into him.

"Oh fuck. You feel so goddamn good. Yes," I breathe and pick up my pace, pounding into him, making sure to hit his prostate with every thrust and making him cry out with overwhelming pleasure.

"Fuck, yes. Holy shit. That. Right there. Do that again."

His nails dig into my flesh, and I feel heat traveling down my spine. "I'm close. So damn close."

"Yes. Come inside me," he groans. And holy fuck, I almost follow his order, my cock jerking inside him, but I manage to keep it at bay for a moment.

I lean down and kiss him hard, panting against his lips, "If you hold out, you can come inside me too."

His eyes widen at that as he looks up at me, his mouth opens, and then he nods his head exuberantly. "Yes. Fuck yes. I want that. Please come. Hurry the hell up."

I chuckle, the move making us both groan in pleasure when he squeezes around me. I push into him only three more times before my cum sprays his insides in the most intense orgasm I've ever had. I call out his name and thrust into him over and over, milking my cock until I nearly collapse.

I can feel his hard dick against my stomach, and I know he didn't come. I smile. "You ready?"

"Fuck yes," he says again, and I gently pull out of him, rolling off his body and getting on my hands and knees. I feel him moving as he gets behind me, his hands going to my ass.

"How disappointed will you be if I come the second I get inside you?" He's joking, but I also hear the nerves there.

"I'll love all two seconds of you being inside me. Now hurry up." I say, bracing my weight on my elbows.

I hear the cap of the lube, and moments later, there's one finger swirling around my hole. He doesn't press inside and for a moment I'm worried he's too overwhelmed. "You think I'm perfect, but I've never in my life seen someone so beautiful."

Goddamn, another part of my heart leaves me in that moment and goes straight to this man.

He uses both hands to spread my cheeks, and I should be totally uncomfortable with him staring at the most intimate part of me, but all I feel is calm.

He gets me ready slowly, and when he's stretched me with two fingers, I'm pleading with him to get inside me. My cock is still spent, hanging half hard between my legs, but this isn't about that.

And when he pushes his way into me, my mind settles, and I just allow myself to feel every second of his big cock stretching my body. I accept him without fail, pushing back against each one of his thrusts.

I didn't plan to come again, but he actually winds up having surprising stamina. And when he pegs my prostate over and over, his fingers digging into my hips as he fucks me without mercy, I cry out at the same time his cum fills my body, coming for the third time in a couple of hours.

He collapses onto my back, and I don't even care that I'm stuck in a puddle of my own cum. "Museums," I say, sounding almost drunk, the word barely audible.

"What?" He sounds amused as he slips out of me and rolls beside me on his back.

"They were my safe space, like libraries are for you. I worked cleaning one of the offices of one for a little bit. They let me enter for free whenever I wanted to. I could stay there for hours."

And I did. For a long damn time, every chance I got, I'd hop on the bus and go to a museum.

I roll to my back and lift my arm for him to cuddle up next to me, his head on my chest. "I like museums too, but I also like to be able to stay still. Just sit in one spot and read."

I kiss his sweaty forehead. "I always had the need to constantly be moving. I spent so many hours at each exhibit, Studying every aspect."

He looks up at me with wide, beautiful eyes, and I swear he's going to say something. Something that's been on my mind. Something I won't allow myself to say. My heart is pounding in my chest with anticipation. Do I want him to say it?

Could I say it back?

Would I freak the hell out and ruin everything?

I'm panicking, and I don't know if he can sense it or what, but he just smacks a quick kiss onto my lips and then climbs off the bed in all his naked glory. "I'm starving. We should make dinner."

I don't know if I feel relieved or disappointed, probably a bit of both, but I force myself to climb off the bed anyway, and the laugh that leaves my mouth is genuine when I see the clock. "It's not even four o'clock."

"Yeah well, you fucked me good. What can I say? I'm starving."

I laugh at that and shake my head before I take his hand and lead him into the bathroom. "Shower first. Then I'll feed you."

"Sounds like a plan." He's smiling, but I'm a little worried it's a front. He's really good at doing that, and I don't want him to ever feel like he has to with me.

But at the same time, I'm not sure I can take anything else at the moment.

So maybe I'm a little grateful for that damn "nothing can touch me" smile of his.