Wyatt didn’t move or speak, merely looked at him, panting and coated in cum, looking irresistible.
John, taking a page out of Wyatt’s book of lovemaking, lowered himself over Wyatt’s deflated cock and licked his tongue lovingly over him. His cowboy hummed, reaching for him and scraping through his hair.
“Cleaning up the mess you made, daddy?” Wyatt said hoarsely.
John’s cock, impossibly, twitched.
He licked and licked, taking his time and marveling at the hard lines of Wyatt’s body with his tongue and lips. Dipping lower, to the place between his legs, Wyatt arched for him, giving him access to the dripping, ruined ass he just annihilated with his cock.
“Please,” Wyatt’s voice was throaty and rough.
John did what he asked, wanting to. He tilted Wyatt’s hips back, legs apart and ass open, pushed his beardy face between his cheeks and licked his puckered hole clean.
“Fuuuuck…” Wyatt gasped.
John tasted his cum leaking from him and pushed it back in with his tongue. Wyatt writhed against his face, slowly rocking his hips against him. It was a dirty sight.
Mine. Forever.
Thank fuck.
He finished cleaning him and sat back, smiling and panting, blood heating every limb of his body.
Wyatt swallowed, eyes at half mast, “You’re fucking good at that.”
John grinned, got up, and grabbed a towel from his bathroom, cleaning Wyatt and himself off before sliding into bed and spooning the loose-limbed cowboy against him, nuzzling the back of his neck. Wyatt sighed contentedly and pulled him close.
“I love fucking you,” John confessed, kissing Wyatt’s naked shoulder.
He hummed, “I love being fucked by you.”
“Good. Because I’ll need to do that at least once a week.”
Wyatt relaxed deeper into him and laughed. “Yes, fucking, sir.”
John smiled, his heart barely suppressing the words he was so desperate to say, and yet he didn’t know why, but he couldn’t say it.
Both men drifted off to sleep. And for the first time in their relationship, they knew that whatever tomorrow brought, they would be okay because they had each other.
Chapter 21
Wyatt
The flight to Arizona hadn’t been awful because of John, whom Wyatt kept looking over at as though making sure he was still there. When Wyatt had asked him last night, it hadn’t been planned, but more of a wish. So, when John said yes, surprised relief had filled him, knowing he could be a little more confident on his journey home because John would be by his side.
When they arrived at the ranch, John let out a low whistle. “It’s beautiful. I don’t know what I was picturing, but I don’t think this was it.”
Wyatt grabbed John’s hand from across the rental car and kissed his knuckles, unable to speak. It had been years since he’d been back. So much anger and grief came up when he thought about the ranch, his father, and Mateo.
But now, those feelings had finally settled. He pressed his lips into the heartlines of John’s hand, love filtering through every fiber of his being for this man.
“Thank you again for this,” he said softly.
John’s eyes collided with his. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I know.”
“Do we need to reestablish a safe word?” John teased lightly, breaking the tension in Wyatt’s chest.
