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A flash of teeth then Mathieu yanked Win’s jeans and underwear down past his thighs and dipped his head, dragging the tip of his nose down Win’s length. Mathieu’s warm breath snaked around his cock and drifted lower, teasing his balls. Win’s head dropped back against the wall.
Fuck. His heart pounded so loud, but not enough to drown out the sound of Mathieu’s satisfied moans. His tongue flicked over Win’s cock head. “Fuck!” Win reached down blindly, palming the back of Mathieu’s head even as his hips bucked.
Mathieu just moaned for him, deep and needy.
There was nothing better than Mathieu’s hands on him. Except maybe his mouth. Or his dick inside Win. His entire body clenched at the thought and suddenly that was all he wanted. That was the end game.
Mathieu inside him.
Mathieu kissed Win’s crown, then his lips parted around him, taking him into his mouth.
Warm and wet. Win groaned. It had been forever since he’d experienced this. “Mathieu.” He wanted to close his eyes and sink into the pleasure which was way more blistering than he’d remembered. But he also wanted to keep his eyes open so he could watch Mathieu strip everything away until Win was the man he used to be. Loved by Mathieu. Adored by him. Protected and safe.
Win didn’t close his eyes. He cupped the back of Mathieu’s head, teeth in his bottom lip, and watched himself sink into Mathieu’s mouth. Barrel to the back of his throat.
And stay.
Hands on his ass, fingernails cutting slices into his flesh, and Mathieu’s throat working around him. Win’s toes curled as he gritted his teeth. Retreated. Slid right back on in. Mathieu loved that. Loved when Win went down his throat, stopping only when he could go no further. When Mathieu’s eyes bulged and his nostrils flared. Win paused there, holding his unfocused stare, throbbing on his tongue.
Win missed him. Missed the days when they lost themselves in each other’s bodies. When he swore he died multiple times between Mathieu’s thighs.
He pulled out of Mathieu’s mouth. All the way out this time, ropes of saliva and pre-cum clinging from Mathieu’s lips to Win’s cock head.
Connecting them.
“Win.” Mathieu’s nails dug deeper into the flesh of Win’s ass. He sounded the way he looked, as if he’d just been throating Win’s dick. “Fuck my throat. Make me eat that dick.” His eyes gleamed. “That’s what I want.”
Win knew him better than anyone else. He knew what Mathieu liked. Knew he would live on his knees if given the chance. Knew he liked the soreness in his throat afterward, liked to remember.
Win gave him what he asked for. Gave them what they both needed. This time he barged his way into Mathieu’s mouth even though the other man welcomed him with a flutter of his lashes and a happy grunt. Win sank deep, holding the back of Mathieu’s head to keep him steady, keep him where he wanted him.
Forcing his way down his throat, rising on his tiptoes, eyes crossing, pleasure zinging its way across his spine and turning the blood in his veins to lava.
Fuck, that choking sound Mathieu made. The way his throat muscles convulsed. Win’s balls drew up. Too long since he’d had any of this and he’d fooled himself into thinking he’d be able to last. He tried, though. Pulling away just to shove back into Mathieu’s mouth. He liked the wetness that glittered in Mathieu’s eyes, liked the way Mathieu grabbed on to him as if he’d die if Win stopped. His wet eyes begged Win to never stop, but Win couldn’t go on forever.
Not now. “Fuck.” The word punched its way through his gritted teeth. “Mathieu. God—”
“Unggh. Unggh.” Mathieu did nothing except grunt and groan, lips stretched to their limit around Win’s dick. At this moment he was just a hole for Win to use, to fuck.
The thought alone— “Ah!” The orgasm sliced through Win, painful in its intensity. He bowed, fingers digging into Mathieu’s nape in order to keep his balance. “Oh, God! Oh, God!” His hips moved as if they had a mind of their own, dick pistoning into Mathieu’s mouth. Fucking deep, strokes wild and uncoordinated. Mathieu clasped his ass, making appreciative sounds, eyes on Win urging him on, watching as Win came with a hoarse shout.
Win just kept coming and coming. And Mathieu choked on him, cum spilling out to run down his chin. Win wrenched himself away, collapsing on his ass on the cold wood floor. Mathieu fell forward onto his hands and knees, coughing, body twitching as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Win couldn’t do shit but sit there, body thrumming, jeans and underwear caught around his ankles. This was his first orgasm not achieved by his own hand in such a long time that it felt new. Like the first time.
A shaking hand touched his thigh, stroked him there, and he brought his gaze up to meet Mathieu’s. The other man watched him carefully. His eyes were red, lips puffy. He remained still fully dressed while Win was…a mess.
“Are you okay?” Mathieu’s voice was already ruined. And Win’s dick twitched at that. Mathieu swallowed and Win watched his Adam’s apple move.
The part of him that had been missing Mathieu for years wasn’t okay. His body wasn’t okay, not after this brief taste of what used to be. The damage Mathieu had done to him was ever-present too. Win shook his head. “No,” he answered hoarsely. Honestly.
Mathieu drew closer. Close enough for Win to smell himself on the other man’s breath and salivate for a repeat. “What do you need?”
He needed so many things. “Take me upstairs,” Win told Mathieu. “Fuck me in our bed like you used to.” Make it like the last few years hadn’t happened. Erase the betrayals that reverberated even now.
27
They held hands—well,Mathieu clung to Win as if scared Win would change his mind and disappear. But calling an end to this was the last thing on Win’s mind. He wanted everything their kiss downstairs promised. He wanted to forget everything and everyone else—the whole fucking world—and be selfish. Just for a moment.
