Page 19

W ords couldn’t describe how proud I was of him. Two weeks later, I got home to him once again napping on the sofa with Flossie bouncing around my feet, his laptop still whirring away on the coffee table.

Last week, he’d been terrified, getting paranoid about everything. Then his assistant or whoever she was had set him up with a schedule. One I absolutely approved of. Check in in the morning, set her tasks to complete for the day, letting him still be in control, and then checkout at three. No contact allowed after that so he could rest. She seemed hardcore but also gave him everything he needed. Reassurance. Time. She was the sort of person who gently pushed him to be kind to himself, work to a calmer schedule, get things done and trust her to finish up the day making sure they stayed on track.

He wasn’t on his own in this, and it helped. At least, I think it did, because we seemed to fall into a new rhythm without much fuss. I got up in the morning, and he’d already be on the phone, sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea at hand. Then he’d sit with me for breakfast and walk me out when I left for work, taking Flossie for her run around the park. He’d cut down on the gym to three days a week and had started to sleep a little better. Small victories in a stormy sea where we were simply taking one day at a time.

He also had a new medication schedule and was trying to get the hang of a different pump system that would hopefully make his life easier, and most of all, he was trying hard to relax, even though he could barely keep his eyes open in the evenings, more often than not falling asleep before I could get him out for an evening walk. Then he’d be up in the night before letting me take him back to bed and hold him until his breathing finally evened back out.

We’d get there. We always did.

Today, though, I let him sleep whilst I had a shower, then woke him up with a gentle kiss because I was a soppy romantic at heart, even though I didn’t always show it. I didn’t often do gentle or making love. It wasn’t who I was, and even though I craved a long dirty kiss, especially from him, at the end of the day, I needed him just as much as he needed me, and that was a new vibe I was learning to embrace.

I had to believe in that, however unbelievable it still felt. If I didn’t, I would go mad .

“You have a parcel,” he mumbled, stretching that body of his, long arms over his head and his legs under the table. A faint whiff of sweat.

“Oh, nice,” I said, running my fingertip down his chest. A perky nipple peeked through the fabric.

“I’ve ordered Flossie’s dog food so it comes once a month. Saves us having to remember to stock up.”

“Good job,” I said, slowly getting up. “Why don’t you go shower?”

“Do I smell?” He sniffed his armpits.

“You do. Quick shower and I’ll make dinner. Sound good?”

He mumbled something but did as he was told, shuffling towards the bathroom leaving his upturned phone on the table, the screen nice and green. He was fine. Blood sugars good. The mess in the sink was evidence of him having made himself a proper lunch and, of course, the numerous cups of tea he’d drunk.

Decaf. His dad would be proud. Just as proud as I was.

The parcel then. I ripped it open and stroked the leather inside. A harness, heavy, yet soft, just the way I liked them. All leather with clasps that would complement his still pale skin. I tugged at it. Not much give, so I could strap him down the way I wanted to. Keep him in place as I fucked him, right where I needed him.

As I said, I didn’t do love-making. I fucked, and he got fucked. It was the way we both rolled, and it was such a sweet relief that I could do this with him. That he got me, no questions asked, because he never had. He just took it. All of it. And if I was reading him right, he absolutely loved it.

Especially the way his breath hitched catching me staring at him coming out of the bathroom, stark naked and rubbing that mop of hair with a hand towel.

Glorious . That was all I could think. It wasn’t often I saw him bare like this. Nothing but skin. No machinery. No tubing. All that remained were faint grey streaks where surgical tape had held the infusion site in place.

“Come here,” I called to him, lowering the harness in my hands.

He stopped dead and stared back at me. Perhaps my scrubs weren’t screaming let me fuck you , but the rest of my body surely was, my erection clearly visible through the fabric. I swallowed my breath when he shot me a cheeky smile.

“Do I want to know what you have planned this time?” he sassed.

“Colour, Bastien?”

He let the towel drop to the floor, taking that smile with it, but his dick was already in the game, thickening under my gaze.

“Green,” he said softly.

I curled my finger at him, making him slowly step towards where I was standing by the kitchen counter. The parcel in front of me spilled out the remaining content onto the surface. Good lube. Condoms. Box of J-lube. I had plans, lots of them, but I was a patient man and carefully peeled the cellophane from the first bottle of lubricant, flipped the cap open and placed it down next to me.

Ready.

The blush on his cheeks told me everything I needed to know. The way he was chewing at his bottom lip and how I wiped that small smile off his face as I fitted the harness over his shoulders, gestured for him to put his arms through and tightened it over his chest with a firm tug. Then I held on, meeting his gaze.

“You’re mine, you know that don’t you?”

He nodded.

“Words, Bastien.”

“Yup.”

Bratty little shit.

I grabbed his chin with my free hand, gave him another firm tug, moving him back against the worktop. Then I kissed him, deep, dirty, with everything I had, probing the roof of his mouth with my tongue, biting at his bottom lip, then slowly releasing him.

“Turn around,” I whispered, guiding him, my hands smoothing down his sides, my foot kicking his feet out. Another tug of the harness. His hips pushed out, that perfectly round arse right there.

My fingers walked back up his spine, all the way, then a stern fist of his hair. A tug. My lips on the bare skin of his neck. A gentle bite. Licks. Sucking all that goodness into my mouth. Tasting every little bit of him I could reach. He moaned softly.

“Keep your hands on the kitchen counter. No touching yourself, is that clear? ”

“Green,” he said confidently, then cleared his throat. “Fucking do it.”

“Gonna be hard and fast,” I said as he spread his legs further.

“Just the way I like it.”

Told ya. He got me. Fuck, it was such a headrush to get to do this with him. To just be able to let go and know he was right there with me, in the moment, wanting this as much as I did.

I wanted to savour this. The feeling of just standing here feeling the heat rising in my groin, the way my cock was filling out, the heavy breaths coming from his chest. The marks my fingertips made on his hips as I held him in place. I grabbed my dick and gave it a few good strokes. Just the sight of him was all I needed. I could probably have jerked off all over his back already; it wouldn’t take much until I’d splash him with cum. All of it, right there, in the dip of his spine.

I had a sudden urge to taste him. Licking lines down between his butt cheeks, I opened him up with my fingertips and then roughly mauled that hole of his, my hands doing my dirty work as I licked him open with greedy slurps and he squirmed against me, uttering words up there, but I wasn’t paying attention.

The taste of him. The way his hole clenched and opened. He let me in then squeezed tight around the tip of my tongue.

“Stand still,” I demanded, for a minute letting go. A sharp slap on his arse. A howl from above.

“Colour, Bastien.”

“Bloody do it.”

“Bastien.”

“Green, fucking green!”

Impatient much? I kissed his hole. Spread him open and gnawed at his skin. Wide, slow licks, up and down, as he shivered and jerked around, tried to clench his arse cheeks closed as I swiftly gave him another smack. A red blush spread on that perfect skin.

I rose up slowly, finally removing my scrubs and letting them fall to the floor. My naked skin right there. Flossie was yapping somewhere in the background. Him? Right there. Goosebumps all over his skin. I kissed his shoulder blade. Smoothed down his hips. Put him right back in position where I wanted him, spread wide open for me.

“No condom,” I told him. “I want all that cum dripping out of your arse.”

I didn’t have to look to know that his cheeks were flaming.

“You like that? Getting fucked, raw and bare, my cum all inside of you, breeding you like you deserve.”

I loved the way he swallowed, a strange mix of arousal and shame. He did that. I did that. And fucking hell, it turned me on.

A generous squirt of lube found itself into my hands, then firmly onto my cock, long strokes up and down as he once again let out a deep breath and adjusted his stance.

“Don’t move,” I barked. Another firm slap on his arse.

He moved. Of course he fucking did.

“Colour, Bastien?”

“Green.” There was a smile in his voice. Oh fuck, he was enjoying this far too much.

“Hands on your arse cheeks,” I demanded, still stroking myself. Licking my lips. Swallowing.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I grabbed hold of the harness, yanked him firmly backwards, my lips on his neck, his jaw, his ear.

“Spread yourself open. As wide as you can. Want to see that hole as I push my dick right in there. That clear? Open up.”

His breath hitching just turned me on even more, my hand still moving over my length as he did exactly as I told him and spread himself open, his hole still wet from my tongue.

Some lube on my finger, I pressed it softly against his hole—still far too tight, but that was the way he liked it. The way I liked it. My other hand kept a firm grip on the harness, so that his back was slightly arched backwards. His hips would bruise, but hey. This…

The tip of my dick against his opening. His breath. Fuck.

“Don’t be a twat, Jakey,” he hissed. “Bloody do it.”

“Gonna fuck you so hard you’ll see stars.”

No idea where that had come from, but I could see the dimple pop in his cheek, then disappear as I pushed, slowly and firmly, his hole fighting back. A long, drawn-out moan came out of his mouth, and again. I pushed a little further in.

“Fuck, so tight.”

“You and your goddamn cock. Size of a bloody arm.”

“I’ll give you a bloody arm one day. Gonna get my whole fist up your arse, and you’re gonna be too far gone to even care. Fist you like you need to be fisted.”

“Put your money where your mouth is then,” he hissed back.

Almost all the way in. His breaths came loud and deep, his head hanging down as I yanked at the harness.

A final push.

“Breathe,” I urged, adjusting his hips. “Just relax.”

I pulled out, added a bit more lube, gave myself a stroke and pushed back in there, faster this time, making his breathing strain. His hands still gripped his buttocks, white knuckles, pink skin.

Fuck me.

“Do it,” he whispered, shivering. “Fucking do it.”

Two hands on the harness, I pulled out, slammed back in. He howled. And again. I got myself into a firm steady rhythm as he held on, did as he was told, his dick slamming against the cupboard door with every jerk of my hips, his neck bent back as I rode him like he deserved. In and out. Firm slaps of skin against my stomach. Tight hot wet heat surged through me as I sped up, his hands moving to hold on to the edge of the worktop.

I hadn’t given him permission for that, but it gave him protection against the hardness and made him flex his spine so I could get further in. My hands now on his hips, I slammed every inch of myself inside of him, hard, fast, my arousal now blindingly sharp against the softening daylight. Autumn, after a summer so weird and chaotic yet so…perfect. Him and me.

His voice came now louder as he swore in frustration. My cock was so deep inside of him, but I wanted more. I yanked at him, capturing his mouth with mine.

I loved that he didn’t care where my mouth had been. That he kissed me back, his sweet breaths merging with mine. So close. So perfectly mingled.

When I came, it was almost painful, sharp shards tearing through my inside as I filled him right up. The added warmth and wetness, my softening cock. His desperate whimpers.

I yanked him around, dropped to my knees and sucked him off, deep and heavy, straight down my throat. His voice echoed in my ears as he came, all that he was, filling my willing mouth. The taste of him was heady, and so was the way he instantly relaxed, gently sliding down into my arms until the two of us sat there on the floor, like two blobs of jelly, his face in my neck, my arms around him, holding him tight.

“You okay?” I asked. I hoped he was, that it had been as good for him as it had for me.

“You don’t mess around, do you?” He smiled. I could feel it.

“It’s what I like.”

“It’s what I need . It calms me. No control. No stress. Just you, everywhere. I never realised that was it, but it’s clear now.”

“Anything you need, I’ll give it to you.”

“You serious about that fisting thing?”

I let a giggle rip. “Bastien, It’s not a simple thing. It’s something we’re going to need to work at. Get you stretched out real good. Practise. Then one day, I’ll blow your mind.”

“Sounds terrifying. Can’t wait.”

I laughed. And it was wonderful. Freeing. Delightful in a world where I was so worried. Where everything seemed to be slowly working out.

“I love you. Remember that. Whatever you need, whatever you want, whatever happens. You’re mine. Okay?”

“I know,” he said softly. Then he kissed me.

Perhaps I knew too. Perhaps words didn’t always matter. We were good. Just like this.