Page 10 of The Year of Us: September
Reese
After my confession about the fisting, I developed serious concerns Cory’s erection would never waver again.
He kept me close the rest of the night, whispering promises in my ear about how much of his arm he would notch inside of me, wanting to know what it would feel like when my muscles seized with pleasure around his wrist. The state of affairs between my legs wasn’t much better, and by the time we were ready to head home, I was seconds away from exploding.
“You look so fucking perfect,” Cory murmured, pulling me down the stairs and giving me a shove toward the alley.
With my back against the brick exterior of the church, he hooked a finger through the center ring on the harness and let out a growl so deep it vibrated my bones.
“Sometimes I worry the watch isn’t enough.
He dove for my neck, licking and sucking the hint of a bruise against my collarbone.
“Not enough of what?” I asked, tipping my head back to give him more room.
“A mark.” As it to demonstrate, he sank his teeth into the thin skin of my neck. I whimpered, desperate for him as always, lifting my leg between his and pressing my thigh against his balls.
“It’s not a limit.”
Cory smiled against me and sucked a bruise onto the base of my throat like we were horny teenagers. It felt…good.
“I like the look of it, but it’s not what I meant.”
He kissed the place he’d bruised, then leaned back to look up at me.
I didn’t need to see his face to know what he meant.
The watch was as much a collar as any strip of leather ever could be, and it meant something important to him.
There’d been a time—before him—when it had meant something similar for me, but the way my entire soul was marked for him now made anything else feel utterly irrelevant.
“And what about you?” I asked.
“You can mark me anywhere you want, darling. I’ll wear your bruises proudly.”
“I love that, but it’s not what I meant.”
Cory swallowed hard enough for me to hear it. “I’m yours,” he said softly.
“And I’m yours.”
He dragged his tongue across the front of his teeth, and it reminded me so much of the first night we met. The way he’d sized me up from the start, appraised me, found me perfect for his needs. The way he’d changed both of our lives.
“We can talk about that more when we aren’t this fucking horny,” I promised.
He gave a quick shake of his head to clear it, then halfway rolled his eyes at me.
“My perfect boyfriend.” He pressed his hand against my chest. “My perfect submissive. Always so level-headed.”
There was a time I would have argued the point with him, but I didn’t need to identify as a submissive to be his submissive. Nothing about me had changed except the way I fucked. I was the same man on the inside as I’d always been. It was just…Cory. Cory and me.
“Do you want me to make you come here or in the car?” he asked, hand already sliding down toward my waistband.
“Make us both come,” I said, tugging his hand back up, licking him from the heel of his hand to the tips of his fingers.
His eyes did finally roll back then, his left hand working awkwardly at our belts and our flies while I sucked his fingers into my mouth to moisten them up. When both of our cocks were free, he tore himself out of my grasp and reached down to fist both of our dicks in his hand.
The pleasure was fierce and immediate, both of us shuddering from how good it felt to be pressed together there.
Cory swayed toward me, our noses bumping and our mouths so close to a kiss.
He stroked and stroked, and it was hard to keep my eyes open, but I loved the look of him, trembling and coming apart with me.
“I can’t last,” he said quietly, the words jagged and forced, and then it was over for him. The hot spray of his cum smeared around his fingers and all around my shaft. The change in texture and temperature was damning, the sight of his face in the middle of his orgasm catastrophic.
My body added my own cum to the mix, shooting out of me with such force I had no choice but to seal our mouths together so his tongue could muffle my sounds.
Cory moaned, grabbing the back of my head with his free hand and kissing me so hard that his tongue found every sigh of pleasure I’d not given up to him on my own.
He stroked us through the end of our orgasms, past the stage of my hips bucking lazily against his body, not sure if I wanted more or less, and then when it was too much for either of us, he brought his hand back to my mouth.
I licked him again from the heel of his hand to the tips of his fingers, and he joined me on the other side. Both of us swirled our tongues, chasing after the taste of each other in every way we could find it, and when I was on the verge of getting hard again, I reluctantly shoved him away.
Cory eyed me like I was prey, but he tucked his cock back into his pants and I did the same.
“Is it ever going to stop?” he asked, tugging my harness to the side so it was centered again.
I hated the shirt between my skin and the leather, but going bare with it in public was something I wasn’t quite ready for.
It was obvious enough with our mannerisms that Cory was the dominant one between us, but still…
“Is what going to stop?”
“The way I want you.”
I hummed, taking his face into my hands and kissing him again. “I hope not.”
“Let’s go home, Reese,” he said, taking my hand and leading me toward the parking lot. “Tomorrow, before work, I want you to have Morgan come help you unpack. Then when you get home, I want to make a list of all the depraved things we’re going to do together between now and Christmas.”
Heat burned hot at the base of my spine and as I followed Cory toward the car, I couldn’t be sure if I wanted make the nice list…or the naughty one.
Cory has said goodbye to New York for good, but will he and Reese find domestic bliss in LA or will the responsibilities of the real world ruin their love affair?
Find out what's in store for Cory and Reese next in The Year of Us: October.