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In one steady but slow movement, Ambrose pierced inside me. The burn returned as my body stretched around his girth. But just as before, the discomfort quickly faded to nothing but bliss. He filled me perfectly, like he was made for me; like we were made for each other.

He pulled his hips back slowly before sinking inside me again and again, hitting every pleasure center. I couldn’t contain myself, and I cried out at the ceiling each time he rolled forward.

I pleaded for him to fuck me harder, faster, and he gave me everything I wished for. He slammed inside me as colorful bursts danced before my eyes. My cock drooled steadily onto my abdomen and I knew I couldn’t hold out any longer. It was too good; too perfect.

But when I wrapped my palm around the aching flesh of my cock, Ambrose knocked my hand away and replaced it with his own. “I want to pleasure you,” he insisted in a low growl, and the last of my restraint snapped.

He only had to stroke me three times before my thighs turned to stone and my back arched off the bed. My balls pulled close to my body as I yelled out his name and erupted. Thick white cords splattered against my stomach.

Ambrose gripped my hips and pulled me down onto him as he fucked inside me at a frantic pace. His nails buried in my skin as his breathing grew faster and sweat trailed down his forehead.

With one more deep push, he froze and grunted through his teeth. He came with such force that I felt the warmth fill the condom, and I wished that I could feel it flooding throughout my walls. Something about this man wanted me to condemn any logical thought.

After our breathing slowed to normal, Ambrose gently pulled his dick from my body, and I instantly missed the presence. Having him inside of me; a part of me, made me feel whole for the first time I could ever remember. He removed the condom and tossed it in a waste basket next to my bed.

I assumed that he would grab a towel to wipe me down, or perhaps just move so that I could go clean myself up, but I never anticipated his next move; Ambrose locked his eyes to mine as he leaned down and stuck out his tongue. He lapped up every drop of seed from my stomach as he moaned as if it were the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. If he hadn’t completely drained my balls, I would have come all over again.

Then, switching gears from the hottest thing I’d ever experienced to the sweetest, Ambrose laid down beside me and pulled me close. I rested my head on the pillow next to him and we gazed at one another as he traced his fingertips along the scar on my face.

After several moments of his soothing touch, Ambrose asked quietly, “How did this happen, my dear?” He wasn’t scared of or disgusted by it, and I instinctively knew that he wasn’t asking from nosiness or curiosity; I could feel that he cared.

If anyone asked about the mark in the past, I skated around the specifics or even outright lied. But I wanted to tell Ambrose everything. As he had guided me to do, I listened to my heart, and it told me that perhaps he would understand; that he could help ease the burden I’d carried for so long.

He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, making any uncertainty or apprehension disappear. I took a deep breath and began, “It happened a little over six years ago. It was from a car accident.”

That’s generally where I left things with anyone else, but there was so much more to the story. “It was my eighteenth birthday and I was hanging out with some friends at my buddy’s house. His parents weren’t home, we were young and dumb, and things combined into a perfect storm of bad decisions. That decision was to drink…a lot.”

“A couple of hours in, my buddy got a call from his parents saying that they were coming home. He got spooked and told us all to get out. I knew I was trashed, so I called my big brother James to ask him to come and get me. He always looked out for me and said he’d be there right away.”

“That was smart,” Ambrose told me with a proud smile, but I shook my head.

“I thought so too, but it was the worst thing I could have done.” His eyebrows folded in with confusion and I explained, “James came and picked me up to take me to his house. I still lived with my parents and he didn’t want them getting on my case; they were very strict and he knew I’d catch hell for drinking.”

“He sounds like a great brother.”

“He was the best.” Ambrose’s eyes grew sad at the word tense, like he was beginning to piece together the rest of the story. “Even though I was drunk, I remember the drive. We were laughing and having fun; he was teasing me for the way my words were slurring. I remember thinking that I was so lucky to have him always looking after me.”

“And then everything went so horribly so quickly. Headlights shone in the windshield as a car crossed over the center yellow line towards us. James tried to jerk the wheel to get us out of the way, but it was too late. We collided head on. I blacked out and when I regained consciousness, I had a splitting headache. I wiped the blood out of my eyes and found James slumped over the wheel.”

“Oh, Marcus,” Ambrose said sadly.

I continued on before he could say anything else. I’d held in the story for so long, and now I just needed to get it all out. “I screamed at him to wake up. I shook him. I begged him. But he was gone. I held him and cried until an ambulance arrived. I don’t even know who called for it; a passerby, I guess. I fought the medical workers when they tried to take him from me, so they finally agreed to let me ride in the ambulance with him. They worked on him tirelessly, but they couldn’t bring him back. I refused treatment when they offered it to me. They warned that I’d have a nasty scar when I finally healed, but how could I care about that with what happened to my brother?”

“When my parents arrived at the hospital, they were devastated over losing James, and they were furious with me. They told me that my poor decisions had led to them losing both sons; they wanted nothing to do with me. Later on in the evening, I learned that the driver who had hit us was one of my friends from the party. He had gotten behind the wheel and got all turned around trying to get home. He didn’t make it either.”

“I am so sorry,” Ambrose told me before kissing my head again.

“I lost everyone that night; my brother, my parents, and my friend. My other friends tried to reach out to me afterwards, but it was too painful. I locked myself away from the world. I thought about ending my life too. It’s what I deserved, but I couldn’t do it. I was too big of a coward.”

“It is not what you deserved,” Ambrose replied in a stern tone. “What happened was a tragic accident. You were not at fault and I know for a fact that your brother feels the same way.”

“He can’t feel anything now, thanks to me.” I took everything from him.

“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear.” I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion and he added, “Your brother’s name is James Welsh, correct?”

Wait, how did he know my last name? Oh geez, I just fucked a guy who didn’t even know my last name. But that wasn’t my main concern at the moment. “You knew him?”

Ambrose smiled but shook his head. “I know him.”

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