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I lift my gaze to meet his and watch as he mouths, “ All twelve .”

He pushes his underwear all the way down, sending his cock bouncing free, slapping against his stomach. The tip reaches well above his belly button, and my hole clenches on its own, because ... fuck. How is that supposed to fit inside me? It’s a third fucking leg.

“Touch yourself,” I find myself saying, not having meant to say it. The motherfucker must realize I’m high-key in awe, because he smirks as he wraps a hand around his shaft, staring down at it throbbing between his legs.

“Have you ever had one this big?”

I lick my lips, shaking my head. “Aside from when I sucked you, no.”

Slowly, his hand moves up the length, and he rubs a pearl of pre-cum into his skin. The sound of slick skin fills the room, sounding absolutely obscene. “Are you going to take it all, Tatum? Do you think you can manage?”

“Please?” It’s the only word I can say. The only one I can think of.

“Such a good boy,” he whispers, releasing his cock as he climbs on the bed. He’s on his knees in front of me when he points at the headboard. “Lie down. Let me open you up, sweetheart.”

Fuck yes. Don’t mind if I do.

I scurry back, not wanting to waste a single second. Once I’m on my back, he grabs the back of my thighs and pushes them forward. “Hold your legs for me.” I do what he says, because I’m his good boy. He said so.

Grabbing my thighs, I hold them in place, whimpering when he slides between my legs, resting on his stomach. He’s staring at my hole, but my eyes are locked on his ass, now fully visible. I’ve always been a strict bottom—it’s the reason my relationship with Austin and the Bens never fully worked—but, with Abi, I kind of want to switch sides. He’s got the nicest ass I’ve ever seen, and I’m struck with a mental picture of me knelt behind him, spreading his cheeks, his hairy hole on full display. In the past, he’s admitting to wanting me to fuck him, and I think I’m game. For now, though, I want to be owned. To be dominated. He must realize how hungry I am for him, because, as his finger slides across my opening, we lock eyes, and he gives me a nod.

“I’m going to eat your ass like a fucking buffet, then I’m going to fuck you.” It’s not a request, it’s simply fact. As if wanting to drive the fact home, he inches closer, and lifts my balls with his hand. His breath is warm against my hole, and then there’s the sensation of wet pressure against it. Fuck. I love the way his tongue feels form-fitted to me. It’s as if we were made for each other. Maybe we were.

His tongue slides against me, rougher this time, and there’s a good bit of pressure against my hole. I know what he’s trying to do—to work his tongue into me—but he can’t seem to breach the barrier. I stare at the ceiling, trying to relax so I can grant him passage. It takes a while, but once I feel the tip of his tongue break the entrance, my entire body relaxes.

This is home. This is where he belongs. It’s something he’s told me so many times, and, yes, maybe I felt it before, but right now, I realize how true the words are. I don’t want another day to go by without some part of him inside me. I want him in there as a constant reminder that I belong to him.

He’s tongue-fucking me with force now, his hand reaching up and wrapping around my shaft. As he pumps me feverishly, I feel the edge drawing nearer. I’m not ready, though. I don’t want to come yet.

“Abi, baby, you’ve got to give me a second,” I plead. “I’m close. Please don’t make me come.”

He looks up at me and winks, not slowing down in the slightest. If anything, his grip tightens, and his stroke game intensifies. My eyes widen when I realize he has no plans of slowing down. His tongue slips out of my ass and travels the length of his lips. Staring at my cock, his hand moves faster.

“I will make you come. It is going to happen, Tatum. Come to terms with it, because the sooner you come, the sooner I can use it to fuck you. Does that sound good to you?” I bite my lip to stop myself from letting out a needy, desperate sound, and nod. “ Good.” His hand rises and falls, pumping my cock with abandon. I feel my balls draw closer to my body. Then, the pressure eases, and he takes my balls in his hand, squeezing. The pain is unbearable, but in the best possible way. I writhe beneath him, unable to form words. “I love you, Tatum. Tell me you know.”

I nod frantically, needing his hands around me again. Needing to come more than I ever have in my life. “I know. Fuck, yes. More.”

“And you love me, little one?” he says, gripping tighter.

The question takes me by surprise, and my eyes shoot open. “Abi.” It’s the only word I can get out. I can’t tell him I love him. Not yet. Not now. The worst part is, I kind of want to say it, because I’m pretty fucking sure it’s true.

There’s a look of disappointment on his face, but it only stays there a second. He wraps his hand around my shaft and strokes me faster than before.

We work together, matching each other’s rhythm with ease. Every time his hand reaches the tip, he circles his thumb around the head. I’m leaking like crazy, and each stroke sounds louder than the last. As I approach the edge, I reach up and grip the back of his neck, digging my nails into his skin. He groans, and whether it’s from pain or pleasure, I’m not really sure, but he makes no attempt to stop me. The longer he strokes, the more I want it. Our eyes are on each other, and though there are endless declarations in each of our gazes, the only word I can get out is, “Close.”

Fire flashes in his eyes as he drags me across the finish line, growling, “You need it, don’t you? You want to shoot your load all over my cock so I can use it to fuck you.” As if he’s trying to prove a point, he crawls forward and grinds his massive cock against my hole, making me scream.

“Fuck,” I gasp. It feels like I’m coming, but nothing’s coming out. It’s like he’s taken my load by surprise and snuck an orgasm out of me before my body can catch up. No one has ever made me feel this good. They’ve never made me come undone so effortlessly. I’m seconds away when he barks my name, startling me. Looking me in the eyes, he nods.

“Come for me.”

That’s all it takes. His simple instruction is the only thing I need to push me over. My dick erupts, sending shot after shot of my load flying onto his chest. As I unload, he works a finger into my ass, making me cry out. I count three shots before the world goes white around me and the only thing that exists is his unbearable grip and my aching cock.

I try to catch my breath, but it’s like sucking air through a straw. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to steady my breathing. His lips are on mine, giving me his air. His affection. The evidence of his love. I don’t know how long we kiss, but I know I never want it to end.

When he finally pulls away, a string of saliva connects us, and neither of us move for fear of breaking that tether. Once it snaps and falls into my mouth, I swallow our shared saliva like I’m taking communion. His finger’s still inside me, softly stroking my prostate. There’s pressure again, and I realize he’s slipping a second inside. His eyes tear away from mine when I gasp, and he stares at the place we’re connected, his face downturned.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You’re so tight, little one. I don’t think I’m going to fit.” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m scared I’ll rip you open.”

“You’ve fucked me before,” I plead. I’m not letting him back out of this. I absolutely refuse.

“I gave you the tip, Tatum. This is not child’s play. I could really hurt you. Maybe you could just suck me off again.”

The words are like being submerged in ice water. I’ve never felt this level of panic in my life. “You promised!” I cry, my voice coated in pathetic neediness. If he notices my tone, he doesn’t make mention of it. Instead, a third finger breaches my entrance, pulling another moan out of me. “Please? You said you would.” I’m clingy and irrational, but I can’t stop my meltdown from happening. With anyone else, I might feel self-conscious about my tragic behavior, but part of me—maybe even all of me—knows he won’t shame me for it. I’m practically sobbing when I grab hold of him. “Please? I’ll so be fucking good for you, Abi. I swear. Please?”

He looks up at me, his face the picture of conflict. His cock has a life of its own, jerking and twitching every which way, proving just how much he wants this too. “I do not wish to hurt you.”

I press my hand against his heart. “You won’t. I swear to the Goddess, you won’t.”

He closes his eyes and sighs. “If it’s too much, you have to tell me.” Leaning forward, his lips touch mine, and I can taste my flavor on his tongue. There’s a manly musk from the sweat of the day, and something a bit more earthy. It’s a mixture that leaves me dazed, grabbing him by the back of the head and pulling him closer, because there’s not enough tongue in my mouth. I want it to fill every square inch until I can no longer breathe. We can just live off his oxygen, providing each other air for the rest of our lives.

As his tongue tears through my mouth, his hand collects my cum from his chest, and the sound of it being slicked around his shaft fills the room. The tip touches my hole, making my body shake in anticipation. Pulling his mouth from mine, he stares into my eyes and strokes my cheek. “Are you ready?”

I sniffle, my eyes suddenly damp. I have no idea why I’m almost crying, but I remember his words from earlier, telling me nothing I say or do in this room is wrong. That whatever I want is mine, because I belong to him, and he always takes care of his possessions.

“I need you,” I admit. “Like the fucking air I breathe, I need you all the time.”

His eyes do this funny little thing where they appear dazed and awestruck at the same time. Goddess, why does he have to be so adorable? Why the fuck did he have to worm his way into my heart? And why does the thought of him slipping back out again feel like a sucker punch? He grunts, slowly rocking his hips forward, but stalls before entering.

“Little one?”

“Yeah?”

“I worry your cum won’t be enough. Is there lube upstairs?”

I shake my head, pointing at the chest of drawers across the room. “There should be a bottle in the top drawer.” When Abi stands and walks away, I’m greeted by the sight of two furry globes bouncing with each step he takes. “Wait, bottom drawer,” I shout, feeling fucking frantic, because his hairy ass is doing things to me, and I want to see more. As Abi bends over and roots through the drawer, his cheeks spread apart, gifting me with his hairy hole. I want to run my tongue up the length of his crack and devour every inch. My hand is around my shaft, pumping slowly as he searches for the lube.

He clears his throat, pulling me out of my horny headspace, and when I look up, he’s staring at me from over his shoulder. “If you wanted to see my ass, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart. You did not need to invent an imaginary bottle of lube to use as your scapegoat.” He stands, pulling his cheeks away from each other, his eyes locked on mine. “Do you like it?” I can tell he’s trying to play it cool, but I know Abi Kincaid better than I know myself. He needs reassurance.

“I could stare at it for days,” I admit.

“You can stare at it for the rest of your life, if you want. Now, is there really lube in this room or do I need to search upstairs?”

“Top drawer.”

He snickers, shaking his head slowly like my actions are the most amusing thing he’s ever witnessed. Once he finds the lube, he uses a good portion of it to prepare himself for me. I’ve got my arms around my legs, holding my thighs to my chest, watching as he drizzles some lube down my crack, using the head of his cock spread it across my entrance. There’s pressure and pain when he rocks forward, but there’s also pleasure washing through me, knowing what’s about to happen. In a few moments, he’ll be inside, right where he belongs. He’s going in bare, which, while we haven’t discussed it ahead of time, comes as no surprise. We were both tested a couple of months ago, shortly after Brody killed Scotty’s father. Honestly, I wouldn’t want it any other way. I don’t want anything between us. Just skin on skin. Flesh on flesh. His massive cock in my not-so-massive hole.

The head presses against my entrance, and I’m in motion, letting go of one leg and grabbing the hand not aiming his dick at my ass. My grip is firmer than it has any right being, but I’ve never had anyone this big and I’m high-key freaking the fuck out.

“Scared,” I whisper, worried the admission might make him want to stop. I don’t want to talk him out of what he’s about to do, I just want him to know. I want to share this with him. That’s what couples do, isn’t it? Share their feelings. Lean on each other for support. “Daddy.”

He tightens his grip. “You can do this, Tatum. You are so much stronger than you think.” His lips meet mine in a kiss, his tongue slipping inside so he can lick up the whimpers and clicks coming out of my throat.

He eases into me, soft and slow. So slowly each inch feels like a mile. I’ve had lovers in the past who hadn’t cared much for my comfort. With Abi, it’s as if my comfort is his only concern. The longer it goes on, the more restless I become, because it’s starting to feel like he’s got a never-ending dick. Pulling away, I look down to see he’s only got a quarter of it inside.

“Are you alright?” he asks when he’s roughly halfway in. “Is it too much?”

I close my eyes and shake my head. In truth, I’m not sure how much more I can manage, but I want to give this my all, because it’s what he deserves, so I bear down, welcoming him home. With a roar that could put a lion to shame, I grab his furry cheeks and pull him forward. His eyes roll back in his head as he slides further inside, and I don’t stop pulling until his pubes tickle my crack.

Closing my eyes, I steady my breathing, trying to get used to him. All the while, he’s kissing my face, whispering words of encouragement.

“You’re taking me so well, little one,” he says to me.

“I’ve never been prouder of you,” he says.

“I love you,” he says.

“Tatum,” he says. “Oh, Tatum. Such a good boy.”

I’m his. Right now, on this uncomfortable bed, Abi Kincaid’s cock is inside me, and he’s making me his. I look up at him with tears in my eyes, unsure if it’s from pain or from emotions over what he’s giving me right now. His heart. What we’re sharing—there’s no taking it back. And, much to my surprise, I don’t want to take it back. I want this, and I want it with him.

“Baby,” I whisper, my body feeling boneless.

“I’m going to fuck you now. Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Fuck me.”

And so, he does. He pulls out, then eases himself back in. I’m still not used to the size, but I’m nothing if not resilient. Like a good little twink, I bear down each time he enters, and I clench as tight as I can when he leaves. As his cock owns my hole, all I can do is grip my thighs and allow him to explore these uncharted acres of his new property. It goes on for ages, which suits me well, because the longer it takes, the more I’m sure I never want this to end. I’m being stretched to my limit, but I still want more. I’ve never felt this full in my life. The way I stretch around him, eliciting gasps and grunts each time I clench, is like a religious awakening in its own right.

“I’m inside you,” he says. Our faces are inches apart, and I want to meet him halfway with a kiss, but he shakes his head. “Tatum, I’m fucking you. I can’t believe I’m finally fucking you.”

“Harder.” Every second he spends tunneling into me is like a lifetime. Each time he hits my special place, it sends me whimpering and whining into his neck, but it’s not enough. “Abi,” I plead. “Fuck me hard. Do I have to beg?”

He pulls away and stares down at me, his hips rolling in rhythm, never stopping. “That’s what you need, little one? Do you need Daddy to destroy you?”

“Yes,” I moan. “Wreck me. Make it hurt.” I close my eyes and hold on for dear life, knowing what he’s about to give will ruin me for other men. Good. Don’t want them. Don’t want any of them. Just Daddy. “So fucking good.”

“Fuck, yeah,” he groans, his hips moving faster. The fullness is almost unbearable, but I grip his neck tighter, my eyes begging for more.

“All the way out, then slam it back in,” I beg. “I want to feel every inch.”

“All twelve?” he asks with a wink. “Or are they still alleged?”

“Don’t care,” I groan. “Could be ten. Could be twenty. Doesn’t matter how big, I’m gonna ride it for the rest of my life.”

His eyes widen. “Yeah?”

I nod frantically as I reach down and take myself in my hand. “Every day. Every hour. Every second.” The sound of slick friction fills the room, coupled in concert with the slapping sounds our skin makes when he’s balls deep. He fucks me like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to do. What he’s giving me—the way he’s opening me up in a way I’ve never been opened before—is like a gift from the Goddess herself. An endless reminder that I’m worthy. That I deserve what he’s offering.