26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

MILO

It's become such a habit to steal Piston's boxer briefs that it feels strange stepping into a jockstrap of my own instead. As cavalier as I've been about sex and my virginity this whole time, if I'm really honest with myself, I've had a vision in my head about what my first time would be like, and sexy underwear is definitely part of it. I do a little spin and wiggle my ass in the mirror.

"Put on your game face because tonight's the night," I say, giving my ass cheek a hearty smack. Although, if my ass didn't get the memo from how thoroughly I cleaned house, then I doubt anything will prepare it for what's to come. Seriously, you could serve dinner out of my asshole, that's how squeaky clean it is.

My ass jiggles from the slap, and I let out a giddy half squeal-half laugh kind of sound. My heart feels like it's going to beat out of my damn chest and if I'm not careful I'm going to start hyperventilating… again. I know virginity is an antiquated, heteronormative, misogynistic concept and that all the fun, filthy, incredible things Piston and I have already done together are just as meaningful and real as anal sex. But this still feels huge. Pun intended. It feels special .

A light knock on my door startles another squeak from me. I glance around the room in search of a clock to tell me the time, but of course there isn't one because why the fuck would there be when everyone carries a clock in their pocket at all times? Whatever the hell time it is, I've clearly spent way too much time shaking my ass in the mirror instead of getting dressed. I do one more booty shake for good measure and then go to open the door.

One look at my man on the other side and hyperventilating is looking like a very real possibility again. No one should look as effortlessly sexy as Piston does in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, a black sweater, and motorcycle boots. He devours me with his eyes, all heat and promises as they linger on my bare skin. He makes a hungry sound in his throat and my cock twitches, testing the limits of my jock as it starts to swell.

"I hate to be the kind of boyfriend who tells you what to wear, but I have a feeling you might get a little cold at the skating rink in just a jockstrap."

He told me he loves me a week ago, I've lost track of how many nights I've spent in his bed now, and just this morning he sucked my dick until I swear I almost found religion, but hearing him refer to himself as my boyfriend just about sends me into fucking orbit. An entire flock of butterflies takes flight in my stomach, and I have to physically shake my head like an Etch A Sketch to reboot my brain before I manage to remember how words work.

"Yes, but I'm dressed just right for my preferred date activity." I waggle my eyebrows.

He barks out a laugh and steps closer, erasing the space between us. His hands find their way onto my bare ass cheeks, the swell of his cock meeting mine through the rough denim of his jeans.

"I'm giving you the perfect date if I have to drag you out of the house kicking and screaming in your underwear," he says, nipping playfully at my bottom lip.

I groan and grab the front of his sweater.

"Kinky." I smirk, brushing my lips against his in an almost kiss. "You know tonight is going to be perfect whether we order pizza and fuck on the living room floor, or you take me out on some big, romantic date and then fuck me on a bed of roses, right?"

"I'm sensing a common theme." He kneads my ass cheeks, pulling me flush against his sturdy body.

I grin and nod. "Smart man."

I've been happy to take things slow and enjoy each new experience with him so far. Especially when those experiences have largely included his fingers doing glorious, mind-bending things to me. But I'm ready now. I am so fucking ready and I'm pretty sure that if I have to wait much longer to have him inside me—really, really inside me—I might actually die.

"Okay, here's an idea." My voice trembles with impatience and need, my cock fully hard and my nipples sensitive as they drag against the soft fabric of his shirt. "You fuck me first, and then you take me on a date. It's a win-win."

"No way. We've done everything else ass backward. I'm doing this part the right way," he says firmly, giving my ass one more squeeze and pressing a hard kiss to my lips before letting me go. "Now, I'm going to walk out of this room and close the door before you can actually talk me into fucking you on the floor, and when I knock again in five minutes, you'd better be dressed."

My eyebrows fly up and I smirk. "Yes, Da—"

He slaps his hand over my mouth before I can get the rest of the word out. I laugh and then lick his palm. Piston snorts and wipes his damp hand on his jeans before leaving the room just like he promised.

I stand in my jock, absently caressing my cock and toying with the idea of being even more naked when he knocks again. He definitely implied that he could be swayed to fuck me if I keep pushing, but it's not what he wants… and I guess if I'm listening to the stuff buried underneath my horny thoughts, it's not what I want either.

The very first time Piston fucks me will only happen once. It won't kill me to wait a few extra hours so he can make it special for me.

I force my hand off of my cock and finish getting dressed. I'm buttoning my jeans by the time he knocks again. I do one last quick glance in the mirror, drag my fingers through my hair, then hurry to answer the door again.

This time Piston is standing on the other side with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and my jacket in the other.

"Oh my god, these are gorgeous." I take the flowers from him and run my index finger along one of the silky petals.

"Lewis helped me pick them out," he says with a shy smile.

"I love them." I take a deep breath of the floral scent then set them on top of the dresser just inside my bedroom. When I turn back to Piston, he's holding my jacket out. I take it and notice there's something different about it. "Oh, I think this one is yours." I hold it open to show him that there's a patch on the back.

He shakes his head and turns it back around for me. Instead of just saying "Ink Slingers" like his, it says "Property of the Ink Slingers."

"Well, that's offensive," I scoff playfully. "Thank you." I grin and slip it on. "But once I have my own bike again, I fully expect this patch to be changed."

"Hmm, well, that would be a club decision, so I guess we'll just have to see."

"Ass," I mutter, and he slaps mine playfully.

I squeal and Piston chuckles, reaching for my hand and tangling his fingers around mine. Cy and the babies are curled up on the couch in the living room. She's watching Quincy swim around his tank while the kittens sleep. They're getting so big already and starting to wander around a bit on their own. I'm sure in another week or two they're going to be absolute menaces. I can't wait.

Instead of leading me to the front door, Piston pulls me towards the back.

"I thought we were going ice skating."

"We are." He grins and throws the back door open.

A burst of cold air washes over me, along with the smell of snow, and I blink in surprise. The open space that usually stands between the house and the fire pit is now occupied by an inflatable ice rink surrounded by a pergola, decorated with twinkling fairy lights. It looks… magical.

"You did all this for me?"

Piston shrugs, but I can see his cheeks turning a light shade of pink at my awed reaction.

"Here." He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a pair of gloves for me. "Come on."

I follow him over to the small table and chairs he set up next to the rink. He pours two cups of hot chocolate from a thermos on the table and then produces a pair of ice skates for me to put on.

"This is so cute." I sit down and kick off my shoes, trading them for the skates in between slurps of the rich, creamy cocoa that tastes like a melted chocolate bar.

"You like it?" He smiles hopefully and sits down to put on his skates too.

"I love it." I lean over the table and kiss his cheek, his stubble rough against my lips in a way that's really growing on me. I get up on my feet again, awkwardly flailing my arms to get my balance. I wiggle my toes inside the skates and shift my weight around for a second to get the feel of them before I trudge over to the rink. "Did I ever tell you about the winter I was obsessed with figure skating?"

I step onto the ice and after a few wobbly movements finding my balance and activating my muscle memory, I skate backward a few paces and then do a simple twirl.

Piston wobbles to his feet looking stunned.

"Great, I was hoping we would both be clumsy assholes out here together," he grumbles, and I laugh.

I pick up speed and start to find my rhythm. The schick, schick, schick of my skates gliding along the ice activates a thousand memories of too many hours spent picking myself up and dusting myself off, just to start all over again. I move backward and forward in figure eights with a shit-eating grin while he steps cautiously onto the rink, windmilling his arms to keep from falling over.

"Even better, I can show off and save my precious ass for later." I wink, skating over to offer him a hand.

"There's that silver lining again."

"Always."

Piston really is adorably clumsy, but that doesn't make it any less fun. We laugh and hold hands while I do my best to keep him upright, and, yes, show off from time to time with a few more simple twirls. The cold air nips at my nose and ears, and eventually a few snowflakes start to fall around us.

I tilt my head back and open my mouth to catch one on my tongue.

"Remind you of anything?" I waggle my eyebrows again and Piston's expression darkens with hunger.

"You're trouble, Mi."

"You like it." I skate backward slowly, holding his hands and smiling at him.

"I love it," he corrects, and my heart flutters.

"I was thinking…" I bite my lip. "Do you think it would be silly for me to shadow at Porter's vet clinic to see if I might like working there?"

"Why would that be silly? I think working with animals would be a great job for you."

"Really?" I don't know why it feels so embarrassing to admit that I might be interested in the job. Maybe because I've had too many passions fizzle out before they've even really started and I always feel like my mom every time I have to admit that the new job, new hobby, new life plan isn't what I thought it would be. "What if I hate it?"

Piston shrugs. "Then you'll move on to something else. Not everyone has to stay at one job forever." His smile fades and his eyes tighten. "And if you decide you don't want to be in Fall Crosse anymore, that'll be a bigger challenge since I have the shop and everything, but we can cross that bridge when we get there too. I'm willing to figure it out with you, Mi. I want this, whatever it ends up looking like. I want a life with you."

My heart thuds and my throat constricts. I must have done something right in this life to deserve a man like Piston, I just don't have the first clue what it was. Maybe it's pre-karma for good shit I still have left to do. If that's the case, I have a hell of a lot to pay forward. Maybe helping animals is a good first step.

"I fucking love you." I fling myself into his arms, which, in hindsight, isn't the best choice when he's already struggling to stay upright on the ice.

We go down with a muttered " Oomph ," from Piston and laughter from me. I land on top of him, the frigid cold of the ice seeping through my jeans to chill my knees.

"I love you," I murmur again. "And for the record, I want to stay here. I like Fall Crosse, I feel like I'm making friends, and I would never take you away from Ink Slingers."

He reaches up and runs his fingers through my hair, holding my gaze with so much love and affection in his eyes I forget how to breathe for a second.

"I love you too. We'll figure out the rest as it comes. Deal?"

I nod. "Deal."

We fall into a kiss that's hot and slow and full of all the breathtaking love that was in his eyes just a second ago. His tongue snakes around mine and I memorize the shape of his smile against my lips. Everything about this moment is utterly perfect.

PISTON

I can't stop kissing Milo. Every time I try, I'm drawn right back to his chocolate flavored lips and the feeling of his cold nose against mine like a moth to a flame. I manage it just long enough for us to take our skates off and get back inside the house, but as soon as the door swings closed behind us and the warmth envelops us, I have him right back in my arms.

"I made lasagna. I just have to put it in the oven," I murmur between kisses, slipping my hands under his jacket and pushing it off his shoulders. He shakes his arms out of the sleeves and then pulls mine off while he sucks my bottom lip between his teeth.

"Sex then food." He grabs a fistful of my sweater and tugs me down the hallway towards the bedroom.

I knead his ass through his jeans, and he groans against my lips. I don't have it in me to insist we do things in the right order any more than we already have. Hell, I should get a medal for walking out of his room earlier when he was in nothing but a jock, trying to convince me to skip our date and fuck him instead. I wanted tonight to be perfect, but maybe I was overthinking it anyway.

As long as it's Milo and me, it's always going to be perfect.

We stumble into the bedroom, and I slide my hands under his shirt, ghosting them over his skin. He squeals into my mouth, the sound turning into a laugh that vibrates around my tongue before he throws his head back.

"Cold," he gasps.

"Shit, sorry." I chuckle, yanking my hands away from him. I cup them around my mouth and blow warm breath into them, then rub them together to get the blood flowing.

Milo pulls his shirt over his head and backs towards the bed with a sweet smile full of so many filthy promises it nearly ends me. He can have my heart, my home, my future… I'll give him everything I have if it will keep him smiling like that forever.

My shirt joins his, tossed blindly aside before I close the space between us. We fall right back into the kiss while we fumble to undo each other's jeans. His tongue strokes over mine and we trade horny murmurs. We manage to step out of our pants without breaking the kiss again and tumble into bed together with laughter muffled between our lips.

A hiss startles us apart for a second. Cy shoots us a glare for nearly landing on her then jumps off the bed and darts out of the room.

"Oops." Milo chuckles. "No rose petals but fucking on a bed of cat fur will do."

I frown. I should have asked Lewis for rose petals too. Or is that something you usually do yourself? Plucking each one off the flower to sprinkle over the bed? That sparks an idea.

"Hold on, I'll be right back."

"Noooo," he whines, trying to drag me back into bed as soon as I'm on my feet.

"Ten seconds." I slip out of his grasp and sprint across the hall while he's still grumbling about blue balls. I grab the bouquet Milo set on his dresser earlier and carefully pull the head off one flower, and then I dart back to my bedroom.

I stop in my tracks right inside the door. Milo looks like he was conjured straight out of my deepest fantasies, spread out on my bed in nothing but a jockstrap that's doing absolutely nothing to contain his straining cock. There's a wet spot already darkening the place where his cockhead presses against the fabric, and a lust-drunk droop to his eyelids. His lips are damp and reddened from the cold and our kissing, and all I want to do is lick my way back inside his mouth so I can swallow more of his gasps and moans while I take him apart.

My cock throbs and my heart beats out a frantic, impatient rhythm inside my chest. This is Milo's first time, but I feel like it's mine too. It's the first time I've ever been inside someone I'm in love with. It's the last first time with anyone new, because I know he's it for me.

I crawl back into bed, straddling Milo's hips and grinning down at him as I pluck the flower petals one at a time and rain them down over him. He laughs as the first one kisses his cheek, and the next ends up lost in his messy mane.

"You want rose petals, you'll get rose petals." I brush the last one against his lips. He closes his teeth down around it then turns his head and spits it out.

"Charmer." He smiles, looping his hand around the back of my neck and drawing me in for another kiss.

Our cocks drag against each other, my piercing catching on the fabric of my underwear and tugging just enough to make my balls start to tighten. I'll never get enough of the feeling of his bare skin on mine, the way his fingers blindly trace the shapes of my tattoos, the rise and fall of his chest as we get lost in the deep, hungry kiss.

Milo cants his hips and grunts impatiently, sliding his fingers over my hips and tugging on the waistband of my briefs. I break the kiss to lick and suck along his jaw, working my way down to his throat. I slide my underwear off, and his Adam's apple vibrates against my lips with the soft, needy moan he lets out.

"Fuck, I need you inside me," he gasps, wrapping his fingers around the base of my cock and giving me an impatient stroke.

His palm catches the barbell and my cock throbs, spilling precum into his hand as I grunt against his collarbone. I'm just as impatient as he is, but one big difference about being forty-six instead of twenty-eight is that I know how to savor the moment instead of rushing right for the finish line.

I memorize his body with my mouth, pressing kisses to small, barely visible scars and patches of freckles, laving my tongue over the hard pebbles of his nipples, nibbling on the rim of his belly button until he moans and writhes underneath me. His cockhead peeks out from his jock, but I leave it on. It looks too damn good on him to waste the opportunity.

Milo spreads his legs, and I continue my teasing journey. I suck a bruise onto his inner thigh, and he arches up off the bed, his toes curling and his cock flexing, testing the stretch of his jock. His skin is warm, and here between his legs, it tastes like sweat just as much as it tastes like soap.

"Any objection to me licking you open before I fuck you?" I purr, nipping at the sensitive skin on the juncture of his other thigh. I wonder if he'd let me tattoo him right there, something small and intimate.

His cock jerks again and he nods, scrambling to roll over as he begs, "Please, please, please."

While he gets comfortable, I grab the lube from the nightstand so I'll have it on hand. We already had the conversation about condoms and agreed we didn't need them. Imagining the tight, hot feeling of his bare hole squeezing around me, paired with the sight of his thighs spread and his back arched with a silent plea for my tongue, has heat pooling in my gut and more precum leaking from my slit.

I grunt and palm his ass cheeks, squeezing them in both hands and parting them gently so I can get a better look at his hole. It's so sweetly pink and already fluttering with need under my attention. Milo takes shallow, panting breaths, interspersed with strained whines.

"Do you think your pretty hole is ready for me?" I tease, leaning close to blow hot breath against his sensitive skin. He clenches and relaxes, thrusting his hips towards me and whimpering.

"Yes. Please, Ewan."

How am I supposed to keep teasing him when he's going to beg so sweetly? I grab the waistband of his jock like it's a handle, twisting it tight around my fingers, then I drag my hot, wet tongue through his crease. His rim twitches against the flat of my tongue and he jerks his hips again, grinding back to meet my second lick.

Unlike the first time I played with his hole, he relaxes easily now, softening for me in just a few strokes. I fingered him while I sucked his cock before I let him out of bed this morning, so it doesn't take much to feel him give enough that I can slip my tongue inside of him. Milo makes a keening noise in his throat and pushes up onto his hands and knees as I lick deep inside, feeling the flutter of his muscles around my tongue. The heat of him goes straight to my cock, precum drooling down my shaft now as I groan and growl against his hole.

"Oh god. Oh fuck," he pants, rocking on his knees to fuck himself on my tongue, his head thrown back in the moonlight, his voice gravelly and desperate.

I reach for the lube and pour a generous amount onto my fingers while I lap at his hole and nibble on his rim. When I slip my tongue out of him, he snarls and sobs, reaching for me and trying to drag me right back.

"If you want my cock, you have to be good and take my fingers first, baby," I murmur to soothe him, planting kisses along the expanse of his perky ass cheeks.

"Yeah," he says gruffly, his thighs trembling at the first touch of my lubed fingers to his spit-slicked rim.

"Breathe," I remind him, even though he knows the drill by now. I think he likes it anyway, riding my fingers while I coach him and praise him.

Will we both still get off on that once he's far removed from all of his inexperience? Will he want to role play like it's his first time when it's his thousandth? Or will we have different games and fantasies to explore by then? I can't wait to find out.

I fucking love that I get to be his first, but I want to be his last too, and every time in between. I want sleepy weekend fucks and awkward shower blowjobs. I want to learn every possible way to make his breath hitch and his eyes roll back the way they do right before he comes.

I ease one finger in and Milo groans. He breathes deeply, just like I told him, and relaxes for me with ease this time, sucking my finger into his constricted heat. He curls his fingers around the bedsheets and rocks on my finger just like he did with my tongue, gasping and grunting as he fucks himself.

I palm my cock with my free hand and just enjoy the show for a minute, the way his rim grips my knuckle and then swallows my finger down over and over, the blush spreading over his skin, the quake and tremble of his muscles. I lean over him and lap up a bead of sweat forming on his spine before I kiss my way up to his shoulder blade.

"More," he begs.

"You're greedy tonight, baby." I kiss the nape of his neck as I ease my finger almost all the way out and add a second. "Have you been fingering yourself too? Getting yourself off thinking about how full you'll feel with my cock inside you?"

Milo sobs and nods. My cock spasms against the heat of his inner thigh and my mind fills with images of him with his fingers buried in his hole, panting my name as he makes himself come. I groan and drag my nose along the shell of his ear.

I work two fingers in and out, grazing his prostate and loosening his hole until he's trembling and whining again. I drizzle more lube down his crease and then I add a third. Milo bucks and moans, his inner muscles clenching and spasming around my fingers.

I reach around and grab the base of his cock in a tight grip. I can feel the throb of his orgasm, the swelling rush of blood I cut off just in time to keep him from falling over the edge. He makes a sound like a wounded animal and falls forward to press his face into the pillow, his hips still in the air, his hole squeezing helplessly around my fingers.

"Shh, baby. I've got you."

"Please, Ewan. Please, please, I need it." His pleading is muffled by the pillow, but I can hear the desperation in his voice loud and clear.

I don't think I can hold myself back much longer anyway. I slide my fingers out carefully and wipe them on the sheets, since I'll need to toss them in the wash after this anyway. Then I grab Milo's hips and roll him over.

"I want to see your face when you take my cock for the first time."

His lips are slack and his pupils are blown. He already looks fucking wrecked, and I love it. He nods and spreads his legs, his jockstrap askew enough that his red, throbbing cock is half out, one ball hanging out the side. He looks so fucking debauched it should be illegal.

I shuffle into position on my knees, his thighs splayed open on either side of me. I fist my cock and drag the head along his slippery, open hole. The barbell catches against his rim and we both groan. I can feel him clench around nothing, tightening against the very tip of my cock, his hole so hungry to be filled that he can barely stand it.

"I love you, Milo," I growl, then I push forward an inch, just enough to feel the next clench of his rim properly around the head of my cock.

His slicked muscles clamp down and his eyes widen with awe and surprise. His face flushes a pretty shade of pink and his mouth falls open, but he doesn't make a sound. He just gasps out shallow breaths and squirms a little, adjusting to the first stretch of my cock.

"Oh," he breathes after a second, his muscles relaxing and his hole sucking me in another inch.

"Oh," I echo him on a moan, falling forward to brace my hands on either side of his head, his legs wrapped around my waist.

Milo rocks his hips experimentally, drawing me another inch deeper. The head of my cock lands against the spongy, swollen spot inside of him and he spills long, sticky ropes of precum onto his belly. His warm breath bathes my face and the drag of my piercing against his prostate sends shockwaves all the way down my shaft to settle in my balls.

"How are you doing, baby?" My muscles quake with the effort of holding still, my balls tightening and aching with every twitch and clench of his inner muscles.

"Good," he moans, finally releasing his death grip on the sheets to put his hands on me again. The movement seems to alert him to how tense his body was and suddenly he relaxes, melting into me, opening up for me, breathing a horny, eager sound against my lips. "Fuck me. I'm ready."

I groan, and my tight grip on my self-control finally snaps. I catch his mouth in a kiss as I sink the rest of the way into his tight heat. He feels like heaven. Better than heaven. Being inside him feels like coming home.

The room fills with the creak of the bed, our muffled moans, and the sound of our skin slapping as I find the rhythm that makes him dig his fingers into my biceps a little harder. Our tongues tangle in a sloppy kiss, our mouths jarred apart with every thrust, only to find each other again over and over. I swallow every gasp and whine Milo feeds me, memorizing the taste of pleasure on his lips and the way his thighs shake and tighten around my hips every time I hit the right spot.

He leaves smears of precum on my belly, his jockstrap tugged down around his balls now, his hips flexing and snapping to meet my thrusts. For the brief moments we aren't kissing, Milo pants yes and more and Ewan like they're the only words he knows. I can only seem to remember one sentence.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." I whisper it into his ear, I murmur it against his lips, I moan it between thrusts and as I suck bruises onto his throat. "I love you."

" Love ," he groans back, digging his fingers into my skin, leaving fingerprints tattooed everywhere he touches.

He writhes and thrashes and trembles, clenching his eyes shut and then forcing them open like he can't bear to miss a second of this. My balls tighten and the coil of heat in my gut swells bigger and bigger. I'm so close, and the thought of filling him up with my cum, leaving it dripping from his hole, then doing it all over again in the morning if he's up for it, has me gritting my teeth to keep from going over the edge. He's not the only one who doesn't want to miss this moment.

I reach between us and wrap my hand around his cock. Just like when I entered him, his eyes widen and his swollen, wet lips fall open. It only takes two strokes before he shouts my name, his hole squeezing around my cock and his dick spasming in my grip.

"I'm coming," he shouts needlessly, followed by a sob. He thrashes and bucks, pulsing around my cock until I can't hold on a second longer.

I shove my tongue between his slack lips and groan into his mouth as the heat in my gut explodes and my cock answers his inner throbbing with dizzying pulses of its own. Hard pulses of cum paint his insides, my balls squeezing so tight I wouldn't be surprised if I sprained something as I empty myself deep inside of him.

We grind together, chasing every last wave of pleasure and aftershock, panting into each other's mouths in clumsy not-quite kisses until we're both spent.

I ease my cock out of him and he flinches, then I collapse on the bed next to Milo and drag him into my arms. We're both sticky with sweat and cum and lube, our chests heaving with our wheezing breaths.

"Was it worth the wait?" I ask, carding my fingers through his hair.

Milo presses himself even closer to me, like he wants to melt together until we're just one person, and nuzzles his nose against mine.

" You were worth the wait," he says.

My heart skips a beat, and it dawns on me just how long I was waiting for this, for him without even realizing it. He's everything I never knew I wanted.

"So were you."

He smiles and brushes a light kiss to my lips.

"We're done waiting though. This is our happily ever after moment, isn't it?"

"For as long as you'll have me," I promise. Maybe this is my karma for the years I spent teasing Arrow for falling so hard and fast for too many different men. This is technically only my first date with Milo, and I'm wondering if he'd like a gold or silver engagement ring better.

"Forever." He echoes the sentiment in my thoughts.

"How about this," I say. "Shower, dinner, change the sheets, and then we can get around to forever?"

"Deal." Milo chuckles and kisses me again, like he just can't get enough of doing it, like he's just as madly, deeply, wildly in love with me as I am with him. Like he really means forever just like I do.