Page 200 of Incompatible

I lift my hand and slowly run it along his back. Beneath the thick sweater, I feel powerful cords and knots of hard muscle. My body responds instantly. I hook my calves around his back.

"Make love to me," I whisper into his ear. "Make love to me the way he would."

He lifts himself slightly and shifts onto one elbow. I hear the soft crinkle of condom wrappers. I tilt my head back, unwilling to break the mood, the illusion.

One wrapper hits the floor, then another. He braces himself on both elbows again. I slide my hand higher, over his shoulders, to the back of his head, and I feel a slight bulge beneath the ski mask at the base of his skull. He has his hair tied back.

Well, what more proof do I need that it's him?

The thought ignites something hotter in my veins, oh yes, we are playing a dangerously intimate game here.

"Make love to me, Bay," I murmur. "Do it. I’m ready. Take care of me. I’m deep in heat…"

I feel the massive head of his cock pressing against my entrance, his hand sliding down my side, teasing my skin as he supports himself on one elbow. His fingers slip under my ass, tilting my hips toward him before lifting them slightly. I feel his thick head nudge against my ring of muscle, pushing in lightly, then retreating, before gliding into me with those slow, pulsing thrusts, filling me impossibly full, tight and perfect.

A helpless moan spills from my throat. "Fuck me, fuck me like you’re him," I whisper, pleading, begging.

Then a firmer, more decisive thrust of his hips, I feel the work of his muscles beneath his sweater, the flex of his ass, the tension in his abs as he moves in smooth, gentle, rocking motions.

"Uhh, uhhh, uhhh," slips from me with every deep slide, every smooth thrust.

His face turns toward mine, pressing against the side of my cheek as if his lips want to kiss me, so I turn my head and feel the shape of his mouth through the mask, pressing against it for a moment.

I’m in heat, so of course my orgasms don’t take much, a handful of thrusts and my cock spurts, probably staining his black tactical sweater.

But he doesn’t stop, because that’s the intensity of heat, and he knows it. I need more, deeper, longer, but I won’t let him rush.

My hands pull him tightly against me, locking his movements, slowing him down, forcing him to move inside me in slow, lazy, sensual drives, pulling almost all the way out, then sinking back in. It feels like he goes deeper every time…

The pace is divine, intoxicating. I’m hot and naked, pressed under a fully clothed man, and that heat, that weight, only heightens everything. My hole clenches tightly around his cock, milking him, rippling, pulling him inside.

"Tell me you love me," I whisper, "say it like he would."

There’s not even a hesitation before he answers, his breath warm against my ear:

"I love you, Alex. I love you so much."

"And I love you, Bay," I murmur back, "I miss you… I want a miracle so badly…"

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he just rocks inside me, each movement spreading little bursts of pleasure along the entire length of my fuck tunnel.

The feeling grows with every passing minute, shifting into that heat-induced state, constant climax, arousal, erotic frenzy.

I tremble and moan, my fingers clawing at his sweater, begging him to repeat those words. And he does, whispering declarations of love that belong only between me and Bay.

Now, I can listen to them guilt-free, drown in them, live in this delusion… Yeah, I know it’s not healthy, but I can’t let it go yet. I need to indulge, deeper, harder, "I need you, Bay… so much," I whisper, "fuck me, don’t stop, don’t stop."

"I won’t, baby, I won’t," he murmurs back, and we rock together until I collapse, sated, and fall into a deep slumber.

???

When I wake up, he is no longer in my bed. No surprise here. Sighing heavily, I look around. What I see doesn't make me happy: the bed is bare and minimal with not even a pillow.

Dragging my feet, drained of energy, I go down the stairs, and my gaze falls on the bedroom door.

I have to do something about that damn bed, the one where I killed Oswald.

Gosh, it sounds so brutal.