Page 4 of The Year of Us: June

Reese

Getting Cory situated at my apartment and then leaving him behind was agony. I wanted to stay, watch him make himself at home in my space. I’d told him to do it, and I wondered what he would get up to by himself while I was busy at work. I didn’t have anything to hide.

I’d watched him unwrap a clean toothbrush and drop it into the holder mounted to the wall, and I’d definitely watched the way he smiled at me as the plastic rang out against porcelain.

Excitement laced with fear bloomed in the middle of my chest, and the way he danced his fingertips across my hip and my stomach on his way back into the living area didn’t go unnoticed.

His shoes were by the front door, his bag on the floor by my bed. While I got ready to go, he sat on the edge of my bed and scooted back until his shoulders hit the wall, then he crossed his legs at the ankles and smiled at me like I was getting ready to hang the moon.

It was that smile that got me through my entire shirt, his words from earlier in the day about the things he’d wanted me to do to him that spurned me through the end of night prep in record time.

I made sure to be quiet as I could when I got home, and I found Cory sprawled face first on my bed, his bare ass in the air and his arm wrapped possessively around my pillow.

His phone was propped up against the bottle of lube I kept on the nightstand, a movie playing the end credits.

What if I wanted you to come home from work and see how much of your dick you could get in me before I woke up?

We’d talked about it, and I’d told him what I wanted, and he’d stripped out of his clothes in my absence, fallen asleep, spread for the taking.

I’d been teetering on the edge all night, my arousal alternating between something that felt like pleasure and something that felt like pain.

The switch into submission had already scrambled my brain enough that trying to make sense of the other was one step too far for me.

Quietly, I stripped out of my work clothes, not bothering with a shower.

I’d need one after, but it would wait until the morning.

I settled one knee on the bed, then the other.

Cory didn’t so much as change his breathing.

I knee-walked toward him, turned off his phone, then squirted enough lube into my hand to slick my cock for entry.

I didn’t think I’d even get the tip inside without waking him up, but I was happy to try.

Situating myself between his legs, I gently spread his cheeks apart, revealing a smear of wetness that leaked out of his asshole.

Arousal pulsed like a violent wave through my whole body as I faced the proof he’d gotten himself ready for me while I worked.

Cory had gotten himself naked, climbed into my bed, and fucked himself with his hand while I was making drinks for a bridal party from Orange County.

I notched the head of my cock against his already slick hole and pushed the tip inside. Cory grunted, burying his face into the pillow, but for all intents and purposes was still asleep. I shivered, power racing through my veins.

This was hot.

This was so fucking hot.

Slowly, I fed another inch into him, then another, and another until I’d reached the thickest part of my shaft.

Going slow was torture, but Cory still snored softly beneath me, his hair soft and loose across his forehead.

I was deep enough inside of him I could fold my body over top of his, bracing one hand beside his head and the other near his waist.

I sank myself into his body until I was fully seated, groaning under my breath at how wet he was.

God, what had he done to himself on my sheets to get his body this fucking ready for me.

I was desperate to shove my hand between his stomach and the bed to see if I’d find remnants of an orgasm drying against his skin.

My cock throbbed, already threatening to burst, and it was that expansion that finally got a reaction out of my sleeping boyfriend.

Beneath me, Cory lifted his hips off the bed and grumbled something under his breath I couldn’t quite hear.

His lashes fluttered, but his eyes didn’t open, and he moaned my name with more need than I’d ever heard from him when he was awake.

Was this what he meant when he told me he ‘dreamed about me?

When he told me how often he thought about me fucking him?

I shoved his legs farther apart, not caring anymore if it woke him up or not.

I was minutes away from coming and I wanted him conscious for it.

Pulling out until I was fully free of his body, I slammed back into him with enough force to knock the air out of both our lungs.

His eyes flew open, then rolled back as I set an immediate and punishing pace.

He’d wanted me to see how much of my cock I could get into him without waking him up, and the answer was all of it.

I’d wanted to come home from work and fuck him so hard into the mattress than nothing else in my life mattered.

Heat built low and hot between my legs, and Cory reached back, grabbing my hip and digging his nails into my waist. He didn’t try to stop me, the sharp bite of his fingers only driving me deeper.

The bed slammed against the wall, and neither of us managed any sort of breath beyond a desperate and forced exhale between thrusts.

Nothing else mattered.

Nothing mattered more than him.

Than us.

Than this .

Cory whimpered, chin quivering as all his muscles tensed and locked, and I knew if he hadn’t come on my sheets earlier, he just had.

I slammed against him two more times before my own orgasm pulled over me like a blanket, taking us both under from the swell of it.

I shot a violent spray of cum into Cory’s body, collapsing on top of him as I lost control of my limbs.

My vision whited, stars blinking to life behind my eyelids. The only thing I knew was Cory was here for three weeks, he was mine, and…

My mouth opened on its own accord, dropping wet and sloppy kisses against the side of his neck, his ear, his jaw, while the aftershocks of my orgasm settled in my bones.

“I love you,” I whispered, because in that moment, it was the only thing I knew to say.