Page 68 of How I Met Your Murderer

He pulled off just long enough to flash a glistening smile and assure me, “You’ll get your turn—if I last that long,” before engulfing me in the heat of his mouth again.

Dimly, just before an orgasm tore through me, I realized he was rutting against the edge of the thin mattress like this turned him on too much to wait. I tugged on his hair, sharp this time, reminding him that he loved it when I gave an order.

I meant to scream his name when I let go, but the tipping point came on so fast that I gasped it quietly instead before emptying myself down his throat.

“Mmm. Tastes like . . . the foam on an oat milk latte. Silky,” Raff declared as my cum spilled past his smiling lips, trickling down his chin. Playing our food game. He caught the slow trail of white with his tongue, licked it up. “Hint of sweetness that reminds me of honey in cream.”

“Sounds delicious.”

“Aye, you have no idea. Could be habit-forming.”

A few moments later, when he tried to snuggle up to me like he was going to hold me through the comedown, I gently pushed his hands away. Brought them up to my lips and kissed his fingers. “I saw you, earlier. What you were doing to the mattress.” I unhooked the straps of his overalls, letting them fall away. “Why don’t you show me where it hurts?”

Where it hurt was very visibly tenting his boxers. I threw them in the direction of my clothes, along with his shirt and overalls. I guided him to stretch out on the mattress in my place, worried that he would be cold, that his generous erection might start to soften—but he only shivered when I started kissing the constellation of freckles that decorated his left shoulder while my fingers trailed the length of his cock to soothe him.

“Look at you,” I murmured, connecting the dots on his pale shoulder with the tip of my tongue. “You’re too beautiful to be real. You’re a dream. Made of stars.”

I wanted to trace so many different parts of him like this, to kiss and tease and watch him writhe, but his cock was red and weeping and he was already so on edge that waiting felt cruel after how good he had been to me. So I curled my fingers around it, marveling at the thickness and weight, and stroked him steadily while I indulged in kissing those freckles I’d noticed earlier near the bend of his thigh.

I kissed the glistening head of his cock. Then closed my mouth around it.

Raff’s noises sharpened to a high, desperate keening that would surely attract every predatory creature for miles, so I quickly pulled off and, still jacking him, licked his balls instead. I wasn’t as confident about taking them in my mouth, so I just kept kissing a little lower. Flicked my tongue along his perineum—and when he shifted, drawing his legs up like he wanted to give me better access, I dipped my tongue into his crease until the tip of it found his hole.

I wanted to ask him if it was worth waiting for this, but I already knew the answer by his awed silence, his ragged breaths, and the way that hole clenched at my tongue like it wanted me to come on in.

So I did. Instinct batted away my inexperience and guided me to lick my way into him, one hand rubbing his thigh reassuringly while I kept stroking him with the other.

He was so tight, even though he clearly wanted me inside.

I was tight there, too, small and tense when his fingertip had pressed against my entrance for a few moments. And he was so thick in my hand, I could hardly imagine taking him all in. But that was a problem for future Eric. Right now, all that mattered was Raff, sweating and writhing above me and muttering my name like a prayer.

Collapsing into me and the mattress as his body gave over to my hand and my tongue and my hope that he would feel me forever.

“You’re unreal, you know that?” he rasped after several moments of stunned silence, the two of us now lying beside each other on a mattress made for one. “I can’t even feel my knees.”

I brushed my thumb along his jaw. “You’re welcome, because your knees suck. And I’m pretty sure you were going to fall apart if I stopped touching you.”

Raff’s broad hand splayed over my ribs and rubbed slowly along my bare skin, lazy, claiming it. “Yeah, well. Didn’t hear you complaining either. But next time, I really do want to taste you. If you’d like me to.”

I smiled softly at him. “Yes. I want.” His chest made a pretty decent place to rest my head. “Next time, because I’m not going anywhere.” If only I could say that and actually mean it, when everything we did brought me one step closer to being gone.

Assuming the elemental didn’t get me first, no matter Raff’s vows to protect me.

At least for tonight, I could still count the beats of the heart keeping time for us both.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Sat, 11 Oct 2025 19:42 IST

Subject: A Message from Eric

Hi Chloe,

I hope you won’t mind me reaching out like this. My name is Raff O’Meara, and I currently work at Castle Ardruin, now the Céad Míle Fáilte Medieval Dining Experience, where Eric suffered his fall. I’m a spirit extraction expert, and in my time at the castle managing its hauntings (or trying to, anyway), I’ve had the great honor of getting to know your brother and being the one to help him finally move on from this world.

He’s asked me to pass along this message, and I’ve typed it here exactly as he wrote it down for you. I know it’s an odd thing to receive from a stranger, but he won’t be ready to move on until he’s said his part.