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“You looking for a strip tease,” he asks, humor flashing across his high cheekbones.
“No, Alexander. I just don’t want to miss an inch. Now do as you were told.”
Unbuttoning a few buttons of my own shirt, I watch as he removes his jacket and hangs it neatly in the closet that’s only large enough to hold a handful of items. My belt is the next thing I unfasten, while he removes his tee, giving me another look at his magnificent chest.
If men were built like him back in the day, I imagine Italy would be full of Alexander statues instead of the likes of David. He’s goddamn perfect.
We kick off our shoes in our slow dance, removing item for item until he’s in nothing but snug boxer briefs that highlight how incredibly hard he is. and I’ve only my unbuttoned pants on. Bare underneath of course.
“Let me see you,” I tell him, leaning forward, elbows resting on my knees. His briefs drop, and again, I swallow hard. This is so much better in the flesh than through a screen. His long dick juts out in front of him, and he strokes it, eyes glazing over slightly. They never leave mine, though. When his thumb circles the tip to catch a drop of pre-cum, I lick my lips and stand. “You like to touch yourself for me.”
Alexander tips his chin up in agreement. We’ve done this often enough, but tonight, just watching isn’t enough for either of us. His Adam’s apple bobs as I kick my pants away. As I step forward his mouth drops open and his eyes dart down to my cock. Another area we match, our dicks are very comparable. I don’t know why the fact excites me as much as it does, but it is what it is.
I move closer, careful not to touch him when I lean forward and drag my tongue up from his collarbone, along the column of his neck and to the corner of his mouth.
“Kiss me, Fane.”
His spare hand tangles in my dark hair, angling my head so we’re eye to eye. Nose to nose, staring at each other with the heat of a hundred bonfires. He battles himself for a moment; not wanting to give up full control to me. I decide to throw him a net and nibble on his lower lip. Instantly, his mouth seals to mine, and we groan. It’s been so long. His hand tightens when I step closer, bringing our bodies together. Our cocks jumping to life as they nestle between us. That’s all it takes for my pre-cum to spill, slickening us in the process.
My hand pushes his away from where it still works at his dick and I take over, wrapping my palm around us both. It’s a stretch, but when his fingers tangle with mine and our rhythm matches… Holy fuck.
“Damian…”
“I know. Fuck our hands, Fane. Come on my cock.”
“Fucking hell,” he moans before thrusting his tongue into my mouth. His hips start to roll, his heart beating harder under his warming chest. A minute later, he erupts, pulling me over the edge with him. His hand tightens at my scalp until he’s spent and everything about him softens. “Thank you.”
“Always so polite,” I say, humorously.
“Fuck you, March.” He rolls his eyes at me. “Shower?”
“No, just let me have a minute.” I head to the bathroom, equally as small as the rest of the room. While cleaning myself, I stare at the mirror. Alexander makes me feel so different that I study myself for any changes I can see. Surely, it’s apparent through relaxed features or something.
Because Damian March has never wanted certain things in life. Until now.
4
Willa
“How infuriating,” I mumble as I read yet another new article about the limiting of women’s rights in our country. I toss the last of my chicken sandwich down, my appetite lost.
I’ve never been very passionate about anything in my life. Hockey is a great love, but not at the level of my dad. Or even my sister, who always wanted a career in the sport. She works in fan development for the Seattle Blades but has even greater ambitions there. She always knew what she wanted whereas I didn’t.
My path wasn’t clear, and I had probably chosen a dozen different career paths before I graduated high school.
Everything changed for me when I moved in with my sister after I graduated. She found out she was pregnant the day she found out the love of her life had been unfaithful. Her mental health took a sharp decline due to several circumstances. And then her physical health did as well.
She almost lost her baby from going into pre-term labor much too early. There’s no way to be sure, but we assume it was stress induced due to the turmoil her life was in because of her then-ex and the woman who was in his life at the time.
It was terrifying and I worried over her every day until she delivered my niece. Only then, she had postpartum depression, and we had a whole new set of problems.
Isla overcame it all because she had me and our parents. But what if she hadn’t? Her situation placed a seed inside me that grew into a passion. I want to help women.
“I’ll buy you a new one if it will help,” a vaguely familiar voice says, and I look up.
Damian March stands at my table, looking amused.
“What?”
