Chapter 18

Arsen

Bear.

One word.

A silly nickname.

A hand reaching right into my chest.

Kruger said Matthew was thinking of rearranging his life for me. But it was me who would move heaven and earth. Me who was spilling over with the urge—the undeniable need—to give him everything he needed. And then add more.

My heart might still reside in my chest, but it was no longer mine. His hands were wrapped around it, an unfamiliar sensation but one I could no longer live without.

And fuck me, his smile. It turned me into literal goo.

This close, I could see his heart in his eyes, and it gave me a new understanding of the walls so tightly erected around him. Something so precious, so fucking pure, needed all the protection it could get.

Yeah, I’d be his bear. Soft and comforting for him but ferocious to anyone who dared hurt what was mine.

Lowering my face, I kissed the corner of his mouth. He made a sound and puckered his lips. Chuckling, I slid over, lining us up so I could kiss him fully on the mouth, flicking my tongue out to flirt with his.

Want swelled inside me, stirring my cock and heating the blood in my veins. I already called him mine, and the urge to claim him grew greater every minute in his presence.

Pulling back, I swiped my tongue over my lower lip, making sure I got every last taste. “Want me to make the bed for you?”

“I should wash them first.”

I hummed. “It’s pretty late. Maybe just sleep on them tonight, then wash them in the morning?”

He thought about it, the concentration on his face completely adorable. “Yeah, okay.”

I was hard-pressed to roll from on top of him, but I did, swiftly getting to my feet. With my back turned, I slyly adjusted my junk and then bent to retrieve the new bedding.

My heart pinched at the sight of Matthew sitting in the middle of the mattress, his dark head and eyes the only thing visible from within the pink folds of the blanket.

“I can’t make the bed with you still in it,” I teased.

He brought his fist up, palm down, and I reached mine out so he could drop the AirPods into the center. I put them in the case, and when I was done, he was standing on one foot at the end of the bed, the other braced flat on his calf.

“You look like a flamingo,” I mused.

Scowling, he put down his foot, concealing a grimace at the carpet underfoot. I thought of how inflamed and bruised the skin looked and then recalled how he said sometimes it felt like his body was screaming but no one heard. Glancing around, I didn’t see what I was after, so I bent and tugged my trainers off.

“What are you doing?”

Carrying them over, I set them at his feet. “Put these on.”

“What for?” he said, suspicious.

He knew why, but I answered him anyway. “So your feet don’t touch the carpet.”

“I can wear socks.”

Stubborn. “I’ll get you some. They in the dresser yet?” I asked, turning to pull open a drawer. After grabbing a pair, I turned back. He was standing there in my shoes.

“You have big feet,” he grumped.

“Lucky you,” I told him, wagging my eyebrows.

His stare automatically dropped to the front of my chinos. It was enough to have my dick stirring again, and I turned back to toss the socks where I’d gotten them.

I really hadn’t come here for sex, but it seemed being alone with him in such close proximity to a bed after he gave me a nickname and smiled while all wrapped in pink was too much for my hormones to handle.

Claim. Claim. Claim.

What the fuck am I, a caveman?

“They’re designer.”

“What?” I said, hearing his voice but the words not penetrating. Then my brain caught up. “Oh,” I said, flicking a glance at the Louis Vuittons. Shrugging, I said, “I like shoes.”

Pulling the blanket off, he draped it carefully over the top of the dresser, and we got to work putting the new sheets on the mattress. They fit well and were relatively unwrinkled. I noticed him giving the pillowcase a sly sniff and wondered if scent was something that bothered him as well. But he said nothing and tugged it onto the pillow just seconds after, so I figured either way, it was fine.

Once the set was on the bed, I pulled the tags and ribbon off the other blanket I’d bought, feeling his eyes the entire time I worked. I shook it out, expecting him to grab the side closest to him and help drape it on the bed.

He didn’t. In fact, he seemed to forget the task, too caught up in staring across the bed. I worked under the heated gaze, awareness prickling my skin and tension growing thick in the room. And if I flexed my arms a little more than necessary, fussed with the edge of the blanket more than needed… well, I was just giving him a good view.

“Can I see your tattoos?”

Abandoning the blanket, I straightened, staring at him from the other side of the bed. “Who says I have tattoos?” I said it teasingly, but it came out husky and low.

“Please, bear,” he said, obviously beyond flirting, making me think maybe I wasn’t the only one affected by the hum of craving filling the room.

I ripped the shirt over my head, tossing it aside so he could look his fill. The room was silent, but the heart thundering between my ears was loud. Matthew’s molten stare swept over me, meticulously examining every inch of my newly bared skin. As he perused, he came around the bed, my shoes clunking lightly over the carpet because he hadn’t bothered to tie them.

My breath became labored, my chest tight as I anticipated his arrival, the air crackling with every centimeter he closed between us.

I turned when he rounded the corner of the bed, rotating so we were facing each other, swallowing thickly when his hands reached out.

My lashes fluttered when the pads of his fingers brushed over my shoulder, dragging ever so lightly down the side of my arm, flirting dangerously with my armpit.

“Lift,” he said, and I raised my left arm over my head.

He made a soft sound, the pads of four fingers dragging over the sheet music covering the inside of my upper arm. The design itself didn’t cover my armpit, but a few rogue notes came dangerously close. The bar lines curved around my bicep, creating a cuff around my arm. More music notes in assorted sizes floated on the bar, and as he pulled my arm down, I flexed the muscles to make them move.

His perusal didn’t stop there, instead dragging from my arm over to my pec where he brushed a finger over the barbel through my nipple before trailing beneath it to the black-inked heartbeat that gave way to a chord that was connected to a small pair of headphones.

Goose bumps pebbled my arms, every brush of his skin against mine sweet torture, but I didn’t want to give it up, too greedy for his attention. Following that thought, I lifted my arm again and shifted to give him a full view of my side.

He made a faint sound, completely riveted by the large strand of DNA stretching from the top of my ribcage all the way down to disappear into the waistband of my pants.

At the top, he traced the large treble clef, dragging down to follow the three sections of DNA that were filled in with sheet music and small notes. When he reached the end, his finger dipped inside the waistband of my pants and tugged. “Is there more beneath here?” he asked, voice raspy.

In response, I worked the belt open, popped the buttons, and unzipped the fly.

His dark eyes lifted from my open invitation, and everything in the room stood still when our stares met.

“Is it okay, bear?” he whispered.

“Baby, the way I feel right now, you could light me on fire and then fan the flames and I’d fucking love it,” I admitted.

His lips folded in, and my heart skipped. After a moment, he grabbed the waistband of my chinos and boxers to tug the fabric down and reveal my hip.

The DNA strand stopped with a bass clef, but the edges fanned out into different styles of musical notes floating over my hip.

Matthew made a sound, and even though he stared at the ink, I saw the corner of his mouth curl up. “I didn’t think there’d actually be more ink. I just thought you wanted me to pull down your pants.”

I smiled. “Didn’t you see the ink in the locker room?”

His lashes fluttered, eyes remaining downcast. “No, I was too busy looking at something else.”

My insides rumbled with pleasure. “So do you like?”

His stare was like a double shot of espresso—dark, strong, and delivering a boost of energy right into my veins. “The tattoos or your dick?”

Oh, this brat.

I arched my eyebrow, and he smirked. “Both,” I replied.

Suddenly bashful, his attention turned downcast, finger lightly tracing over a musical note. “There isn’t anything about you I don’t like.”

Desire had me in a chokehold, my throat so tight it was painful to swallow. Once I did, I asked, “Do you want to see the others?”

He shook his head, fingers creeping toward the center of my open pants.

“What do you want, then?”

The need blazing in his stare caught my breath and said so much more than words ever could. As did his fingers when they delved into the coarse curls above my dick.

I was so hard I ached with it, the blood rushing south so fast I was lightheaded. The impulse to toss him on the bed, rip off his clothes, and sink into his body—to claim my rightful place—was so vital that I palmed his hips and pulled him in.

He whimpered, rubbing like a cat against my rigid dick, hand going up to pinch my nipple. I grunted, thrusting against him, satisfied when I felt the evidence of his arousal.

Silky strands of his hair brushed over my bare chest when he bent, taking the piercing into his mouth to suck. I moaned, palming the back of his head and pushing him closer.

“Yes, you’re so good,” I praised, and he doubled his efforts, curling his tongue around the barbel and tugging. Lust shot into my balls like lightning, tightening them against my body as I hissed in pleasure.

My fingers dug into his scalp as he sucked and tugged, lapping at me like a starved man. He only lifted his head to move to the other nipple, attacking it with the same fervor, sucking until my stomach muscles quivered from being clenched.

“Fuck, baby,” I murmured, gliding my hand down from his head to hold the back of his neck.

His hand pushed into my boxers, rubbing against the hair, and he purred in delight. Only then did he wrap his fist around my shaft and squeeze.

I bucked up into his hand but pulled his head away from my chest. He whined and tried to move back, but I squeezed his neck, keeping him up. “Look at me, princess.”

Ignoring the command, he pumped my dick.

“Matthew.”

His head whipped up.

“Are you a virgin?”

Hurt flashed in his stare. “Why? Am I bad at this?”

I would have laughed if not for that flash of insecurity. Grinding into the fist still wrapped around my dick, I held his stare. “There is not one bad thing about you, Matthew. You are so good, and I want you so much.”

A sheen glossed over his eyes, the hand around my dick slackening just a little. “Really?”

“My good boy,” I promised.

His plump lower lip quivered, and he leaned in, initiating a kiss. I surrendered, swallowing down his whimpers and needy moans, euphoric that he’d reached for me. Before I lost myself completely, I ripped my mouth free.

“Are you?” I half panted.

“Does it matter?”

I caught his chin. “The actual answer won’t change anything about the way I feel. But yes, it matters, Matthew. Everything about you matters. Every. Thing.”

“I’m not a virgin,” he told me quietly, watching to see if I meant what I said.

“That’s okay, baby.” I encouraged him.

“But it’s been a while.”

“What’s a while?” I asked boldly.

His eyes averted. “Two years.”

“Why?”

His eyes popped wide, incredulous that I would dare ask.

I squeezed his chin. “Every. Thing.”

His nostrils flared, a bolt of stubbornness cracking through his chocolate eyes. I waited, letting him come to terms with the knowledge that I was going to invade him. I was going to know him body and soul.

“I didn’t really like it all that much,” he whispered, shoulders slumping. “He said I wasn’t good at it.”

His am I bad at this question echoed in my head as I tried to process what he’d just confided.

Releasing his chin, I dropped my hand. Fury ignited in my veins, battling against the lust already boiling over. “Someone actually said that to you?”

Laughing bitterly, he stepped away. “Guess the actual answer matters now.”

Surging forward, I caught him around the waist, pulling his back against my front to grind my steadfast erection against his ass. “Does it feel like it matters?” I practically growled. “At this point, you could tell me you have a vagina, and I’d still be hard for you.”

He laughed.

The sound made me even more desperate for him.

My lips ghosted over the shell of his ear as I spoke. “Seems to me he was the shitty lay and he knew it. Instead of admitting he couldn’t satisfy, he turned it around on you instead.”

Matthew shrugged, not agreeing or disagreeing. “When I came to Westbrook, I decided to keep my orientation on the down-low so random hookups weren’t really possible.”

“Maybe random hookups aren’t your thing,” I murmured. And maybe he needs a lover who isn’t a selfish asshole who will take the time to learn about his needs.

He twisted in my hold, turning until our chests bumped, height well matched so our stares were almost even. And right now, swirling in his was cautious hope.

“Are they yours?”

“No,” I told him, even if they once were. It didn’t matter now because he changed everything. “You are.”

He pushed up on tiptoes, something I found extremely endearing considering he didn’t really need to. He did it anyway, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pressing in like he couldn’t get close enough.

Our kiss was fervent, his whimpers confiding how touch-starved and desperate for physical affection he was. Rising to the challenge, I bunched the hem of his shirt and tugged up, the fabric forcing our lips apart so I could pull it overhead.

He came back instantly, and I laid my palm against his chest, feeling the thundering pace of his heart. “Bear,” he whined, pressing against the hand keeping him back.

“Patience, princess. I’m going to give you everything you need, but first, you need to take off these clothes.”

His usual shyness evaporated, lust making him brave as he shoved the joggers down his body, revealing his long, rigid dick. His skin was sinfully smooth, shaved bare, and teasing me with a supple sheen.

His body was lean but every muscle on display, right down to the V-shape cut leading to his dick. “Look at you,” I murmured, dragging my eyes over every inch. “I have never seen anyone so fucking perfect.”

His chest hitched, and I dragged my fingers along the front of his muscled thighs, pushing his joggers farther down. His leg muscles flexed when he fumbled with my shoes that were still on his feet, trying to kick them off with his pants around his knees.

Tangled, he made an impatient sound, and I laughed under my breath but dropped down to help. His breath caught with me crouched in front of him, face in line with his throbbing dick. His abs contracted when I stared up his body to capture his stare.

“I think I like being on my knees for you, baby.”

His head bobbed, watchful stare glimmering with what looked like awe. Almost as if he couldn’t believe someone could want him.

Upon that thought, a wave of hurt gusted through my middle, and I leaned in, licking up his shaft to make myself feel better.

He groaned, grabbing his dick and pushing it down so it was straight off his body and pointing at me.

“Such a polite invitation,” I murmured. “Good boys deserve rewards.”

I swallowed him down, relaxing my throat to take him as deep as I could manage. His swollen head brushed my gag reflex, and my throat spasmed around him, but I locked it down and pushed farther. His fingers tangled in my hair, tugging to just this side of painful as his hips strained toward me, thighs trembling with the urge to thrust.

I held still until my throat burned, then slowly pulled back, noting the string of saliva that followed as I pulled off. His body relaxed, but I kept hold of his rod and sucked the tip into my mouth, licking over the slit.

A surprised sound ripped out of him, his body bouncing back onto his toes. Leaving my lips around him, I looked up, wondering if I’d gone too far.

Still straining on his tiptoes, his chest rose and fell rapidly, the corded muscles in his arms on display. His stare was unfocused, cheeks hot pink, and lips parted in awe.

Pulling back, I asked, “Was that okay? Did it feel weird?”

Matthew was so sensitive to touch. To sound. To the entire world around him. Paying attention to that was the only way to please him because, with him, foreplay started with the mind, and only then did his body follow.

“Do it again.” He panted, straining toward me.

Feeling wolfish, I flashed my teeth and circled his head with my finger and thumb. Boldly, I squeezed, flexing the slit, and then flattened my tongue to lick over it.

A low curse floated overhead, and I did it again. Going another step further, I pierced his opening with the very tip of my tongue.

He jolted back, a long whine filling the room. He would have tumbled over, but I wrapped my arms around his legs and steadied him. When I was sure he could stay on his feet, I helped him out of the trainers and pants. When he was completely naked, I stood, dragging my fingers up the front of his hairless thighs and across his hips. Palming his waist, I lifted, and he leaped, wrapping his long limbs around my waist.

Spinning, I dropped him on the bed, pushing his legs wide before moving back to stand between them, reaching for my pants.

“You sure, baby?” I asked.

He nodded emphatically.

I shoved the chinos and boxers down in one go, the chain stretching from my belt loop to my back pocket tinkling a little as I went. Once my clothes were in a heap with his, I stood bare between his open legs, staring down at the sight he made.

“You’re mine now, Matthew. You understand?”

He said nothing, but his cock jumped at my words.

The chain on my pants clanked again when I scooped them off the floor to dig a condom out of my wallet and toss it on the mattress beside him. His stare followed the little packet with apprehension.

“Hey.” I called his attention back to me. “We don’t have to do that.” I assured him. “I’ll stop right now.”

He glanced back at the packet, tongue glossing over his lower lip. When his eyes lifted to mine, they still crackled with desire. “I want to,” he said. “I’ve never wanted someone so much.”

Grasping his ankle, I laid it on my shoulder, caressing the inside of his calf, trailing all the way to his inner thigh. My knee hit the mattress, and I came over him, our bare bodies meeting for the first time.

He shivered as I settled.

“If I do anything that doesn’t feel good, you tell me,” I said, kissing across his shoulder. “Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”

He made a noise, and I lifted my head. “Okay?”

“Kiss me.” He beckoned, and I rushed to give him what he wanted.

Every kiss we shared up until this point had been the best kiss of my life, so I never expected it to get better. I never anticipated what it would be to have him naked beneath me, our lips connected as our bodies wantonly moved together. Tongues mating, our bodies rocked, crackling my skin with tension and wiping cohesive thought from my brain. Hands went everywhere, gripping, grabbing, then smoothing across rippling skin. He smelled of chlorine with a hint of coconut. The combination was that of a summer day, and the heat in his skin made me feel like we were coupling in the sun.

Dragging my mouth from his, I grabbed his chin and turned his face so I could drag wet kisses across his jaw and down to his neck. His scent was more concentrated there, and I growled into the skin, sucking it between my lips and making his body arch into mine. Shoving my palm beneath the small of his back, I held him against me in that arched position, practically frothing at the mouth for the offering he made.

After leaving behind evidence of my ownership, I moved to his ear, tracing the shell with my tongue before dipping it into his canal. I licked and swirled gently, dampening the skin to pull back and gently blow on the wet area. He whimpered, and I started to whisper.

“You make me feel like I’ve only just been living, but now I’m fully alive. I love your smell, your taste, the glide of our skin. Can you feel how much I want you, baby? I cannot wait to feel your body stretch around mine. We’re gonna be a perfect fit.”

He shuddered, head lolling to the side as I whispered more, mostly inaudibly, just using my voice to light up his senses, bringing his body alive. Between us, he thrust, his dick stabbing into my stomach and smearing me with warm silk.

I growled against his ear, noting the goose bumps lifting along his arms. “Your dick is weeping for me, Matthew. Can you feel that? You want me so much it’s painting my skin.”

He turned his head, frantically reaching for my lips. We fell into another bottomless kiss as his hands pushed between us, fingers wrapping around my piercings to tug.

I grunted, the sound dislodging our lips, and he pushed me back so he could shimmy farther beneath me and latch on to my peck. My body sagged as he licked and sucked, twisting the barbels with his tongue.

When my balls drew up tight to my body, I pushed him back and licked my way down his body, giving as good as I got.

His body was a blank canvas, no piercings, tattoos, or hair. Nothing but unblemished skin taunting me to make it mine.

After sucking a hickey beside his belly button, I dragged down, nipping at his hip with my teeth. He jolted, pushing up onto his elbows, and I glanced up his body. “Too much?”

His lids drooped, and he shook his head. “Not enough.”

I lifted an eyebrow.

“I want to see teeth marks when I look in the mirror later.”

His words were a punch of adrenaline, priming my body and awakening the predator in me that wanted to claim, claim, claim.

My insides were burning, and even as I thought to make sure he meant it, my teeth sank into the flesh of his inner thigh before I could even form a sentence.

He moaned, low and long, spreading his legs farther apart to give me more room. My teeth buried themselves in his skin, not deep enough to draw blood but enough that I knew he’d bear my mark.

His hand slapped my head, fingers pushed deeper, but as horny as I was, I refused to draw blood. Instead, I sucked the spot, massaging it with my tongue.

His hand fell away, hips thrusting up, and I marveled at the sight of him utterly relaxed. His mind was no longer calling the shots, pleasure and want riding him hard.

Unlatching from his thigh, I slid my hands beneath his ass and lifted, burying my face between his cheeks.

He gave a surprised yell, but I didn’t stop, swiping my tongue against his opening and groaning on contact.

“Oh God,” he murmured. “Fuck.”

I smiled against his skin with renewed passion to please him in every way. I sucked and slurped at his opening until it was soft and pliant and he was a trembling mess against the blankets.

“Lube?” I asked, swiping the back of my hand over my wet mouth. God, I smell like him. Like sex.

He pointed to his duffle, and I went, stroking my aching dick. I found the bottle moments later and came back between his legs. The sound of the cap popping open drew his eyes, and he watched me coat my fingers and warm it before laying them against his hole.

He sucked in a breath as I massaged his rim, adding more of the slick to make sure he was good and wet. His body tensed when I pushed the first finger in, and I came over him to whisper in his ear.

“What a good boy,” I whispered. “You’re so warm and tight. Perfect.”

He relaxed, and I slid deeper, working his hole until he was rocking against me and begging for another. I gave it without hesitation, lowering my lips to kiss over his collarbone as I scissored him open.

When I was sure he was ready, I pulled back and drizzled more liquid between his crack, using some of the excess to pump his dick.

“Please, Arsen,” he whimpered.

“I got you,” I vowed and reached for the condom.

The sound of the wrapper ripping made him look, and I felt his eyes as I rolled the latex down my shaft. The sound of the rubber was tacky beneath my lubed-up hands.

The urgency in the air shifted a little. The desperation he’d been bleeding moments before seemed somehow less. Hand still around the base of my dick, I looked up, seeing the way apprehension dimmed some of the need in his stare.

Before I could say anything, he blinked, and reached for me, puckering his lips with a silent plea. My heart squeezed, and I lowered onto him to feed him my tongue.

He sighed happily as we kissed, and I thrust against him, slotting our dicks together. Beneath mine, his lips faltered, and his face fell to the side. His hands palmed my waist, fingers digging in. I thrust us together again, thinking it was what he wanted… knowing instantly I was wrong.

I pulled back, noting how he kept his head turned, also noting the way his hands fisted at his sides.

“What is it?” I asked, instantly on alert. “What happened?”

He said nothing, just kept his head turned away.

“Matthew,” I said, voice picking up an edge.

“It’s nothing.” He straight lied. “Just do it.”

I’m sorry, but what?

And also… hell no.

I pulled back, forcing my body away from his. “Like hell I will just do it. If you changed your mind, I’ll stop.”

“I didn’t change my mind,” he said, reaching for me.

I evaded the touch, and he let out a sad sound.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, rolling onto his side, attempting to curl in on himself, but he couldn’t because I was still wedged between his legs.

He was trying to protect himself.

Except he didn’t have to protect himself from me.

“Hey,” I said gently, rubbing my palm up and down his arm. “No apologies. You didn’t do anything to be sorry for, but I did.”

That had his head turning, surprise clearing his stare. “What?”

“Tell me what I did that you didn’t like.”

“Nothing,” he said, laying his cheek back onto the blanket. “It’s never been that good before.”

“Then what changed?”

He remained mutinously silent, the stubborn set of his jaw promising he’d never say.

“Be a good boy, Matthew,” I rumbled. “Be good and tell me.”

His lip jutted out, and I bit into mine.

“What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything,” he burst out, anger swelling in his voice. He pushed up onto his elbow and glared… right at my dick.

If I was any less of a man, it would have wilted right there.

Following his disgruntled gaze, I looked down.

And then I realized.

“It’s the condom.”

Confirmation burst in his expression, but he banked it quickly and looked away.

Hand shooting out, I grabbed his chin, pulling his face back around. “Tell me.”

As he pushed up into a sitting position, his shoulders went slack. “Yeah.”

Usually, it was him that said nothing, but this time, I kept silent, waiting him out… forcing him to speak.

“I can’t stand the way it feels. Rubbery and sticky. It’s like a balloon rubbing over the skin. It feels like I’m having sex with plastic, not you.”

Despite him telling me how aggravated he was by the sheath between us, I was relieved. “Why didn’t you say something?” I can fix this.

He grumbled. “I can’t just ask you to fuck me without a condom.”

“Why not?”

That got his attention, and his face whipped up, completely shocked. Then his lip curled. “You fuck people without condoms often, Arsen?”

Is he jealous? As much as I wanted to revel in that, now was not the time. “Never.”

The ire in his face dissipated. “Really?”

“Mm,” I hummed.

“I thought maybe it would be different this time, that because it’s you, I could get past the feeling and just…”

“Do it,” I mused.

He shot me a withering look.

“Just to be clear, you liked everything we did until I rolled on the rubber, right?”

He nodded, whispering, “So much.”

My stomach tumbled, and my softening cock stirred back to life. Glancing down, I noticed his semi, and fuck, even half hard, it was gorgeous.

Dropping back onto my heels, I ripped the condom off in one strong pull. After crushing it in my hand, I tossed it over my shoulder and reached for him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, falling back onto his palms. Between us, his dick jerked.

“Giving you what you need.”

“You can’t,” he rushed out.

I paused. “Do you trust me?”

The answer was instant, the give in his energy absolute. “How could I not?”

Even though I’d felt the answer, hearing it still punched me in the chest. I dropped onto my ass, and we both sat there facing each other in the center of his new bed. Outside the window was dark, inside warm, dim light glowing from a single lamp on the bedside table. Intimacy crowded the room, and it wasn’t because we were both naked or because we were both back to rocking rigid dicks.

It was the trust he held on a silver platter. It was my heart cradled in the palm of his hands.

“You trust that I will keep you safe?”

He nodded.

“Come here, Matthew,” I beckoned, holding out my hands. “Come over here so I can fuck you raw and bury my release deep in your belly.”

He scrambled forward, partially falling into my lap. I caught him under the arms and dragged him up so he could straddle my legs. Our dicks collided, making us groan, and I felt around the mattress until I found the lube, squeezing a generous amount in my palm to coat us both.

He whimpered, rocking closer as I jerked our shafts together. My veins were back to boiling, the knowledge I was about to claim him with no barrier between us making me impatient. Releasing our cocks, I pushed below his balls, dragging a finger along his taint and circling his hole.

He melted forward, forehead meeting my shoulder, legs winding around my waist. My heart turned over at having him in my lap this way, at being able to hold something that had somehow become so precious to me.

Wasting no time, I sank two fingers in, listening to his soft grunt at the intrusion. I pulled out, grasping his hips to pull him into position.

“Take my cock, baby. Sink down and wrap me in your heat.”

He listened like the good boy he was and sank onto me. That first push where his hole gave way to my thick head was bliss, his ass squeezing around me in the tightest of hugs. He panted, body going slightly tense, and I rubbed slow circles over his lower back, whispering in his ear how good he felt.

After a moment of adjustment, he sank farther, taking me a little more than halfway. He groaned and whimpered, then descended until his ass was in my lap and his body accepted mine completely.

“We fit so good,” I told him, palming his face and kissing him deep. His eyes were glassy when I pulled back. “How is it, princess? How’s it feel raw?”

With a soft sound, he slid up and then sank back down, making us both groan. After that, words were forgotten, our bodies communicating in a language only they knew. His channel was tight and hot, the lube allowing the perfect glide. His body was greedy, trying to suck me deeper, strangle me tighter with every thrust and rock. Despite his greed, Matthew rode me gracefully, rolling his hips and using his muscular thighs to bounce up and down with the kind of fluid movement I supposed only a swimmer could possess.

We rocked together, bodies straining, his moans pressed into my shoulder as he panted in pleasure. He clung to me so tightly I could feel the way his dick throbbed, painting my abs with pre-release.

And then being buried deep was no longer enough. His greedy ass started clenching me harder, his whimpers growing needy.

I moved fast, pushing him onto his back, my dick slipping out of him in the process. His whine turned into an exaggerated moan when I slammed back into him, burying myself to the hilt. He lifted his legs, holding himself open, and I started to move, pistoning my hips at an unforgiving pace.

“More.” He panted, gripping my biceps so tight I felt the bite of his nails. “Please, more.”

I went harder, pushing deeper until sweat gathered at the base of my spine and I was on the cusp of explosion. Between us, his dick bounced, the tip an angry red, and I denied my body what it begged for in favor of giving to him.

Wrapping my hand around his shaft, I started to jerk him, his head thrashing against the blankets. In one last thrust, I shoved deep, inciting his shoulders to come up off the mattress, and his eyes flew wide.

His dick spasmed, milky white ropes of cum pouring out of him as he moaned low in his throat. His body arched, limbs stiff, but I kept working him, claiming every last drop. When he finally collapsed against the bed, he was out of breath, a sheen of sweat coating his impressive chest. He stared up at me through heavy eyes.

Holding his gaze, I rolled my hips, hitting his spot one last time and making his body jerk, the final drop of his release dribbling onto my fingers.

He collapsed, a fucked-out mess beneath me, his legs like Jell-O, knees falling open. Cum decorated his chest, and his lips were swollen. He was so blissed-out his stare clung to me shamelessly, staring in a way he’d never let himself before.

It made me want to perform for him, to give him something that would live rent-free in his beautiful brain. Releasing his spent dick, I lifted my hand and swiped my tongue over the cum clinging to my digits. He made a sound, and I did it again, then pushed two fingers into my mouth to suck them clean.

“I will never, not ever look at anyone else ever again because you, princess, are the stuff dreams are made of.”

The sweetest, shyest smile transformed his face, and I swear I fell in love with him all over again.

“You ready for me?” I asked, planting my hands on either side of his body and rolling my hips.

“Give it to me, bear. Please.”

I dragged my hips back until my head rested at his entrance, and then I drove in so deep spots swam before my eyes. I bucked my hips against him, feeling my balls slap his skin, and then his hands were digging into my ass, pulling me deeper, and my entire world shattered with the intensity of my release. My entire body went taut, and I shook like a live wire was electrocuting my insides as my dick spurted and spilled inside him. I groaned low, knowing my cum was marking his insides, claiming him completely.

I collapsed against him, grateful he could withstand the weight as my body jolted with aftershocks and my stomach cramped from such an intense release. Matthew’s fingers dragged up and down my spine, an endearing action that brought me down gently from a hardcore high.

Even after my dick softened, I stayed buried inside him, neither of us in a hurry to separate. When I could put a sentence together, I shifted, placing my elbows on either side of his face, and looked down.

“You doing okay?” I asked, sweeping my languid gaze over his handsome face.

“Will you stay the night?” he asked, eyes pleading.

I love you.

“Try and make me leave,” I whispered.

Scrunching his face up, he said, “I’d never do that.”

Smiling, I kissed his nose.

“Arsen?”

I lifted my head, hearing something in his voice.

“What, baby?”

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

A satisfied grin split my face. “Me too.”

“Can we do it again?”

I laughed, the movement forcing me out of his body. I sat back, noting the way his dick was already filling.

Surprise made me look up.

“I just really like you a lot,” he explained, bashful. “You feel good.”

Cause of death: Matthew Prism.

“You feel good too, baby. Give me ten minutes.”