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Fuck, it was too much. It was not enough. The orgasm refused to be held off.
“W-Win! Oh God, please!” It was so easy to beg for Win, to plead for it.
Win’s wet lashes lifted and he held Mathieu’s gaze as the fingers on Mathieu’s balls slid lower, pressing at his hole.
“Ah fuck!” Mathieu snapped his hips forward. “Fuck.” Two fingers breached him, the burn exquisite, the pressure mind-blowing.
He detonated, coming with a growl.
Win spluttered and choked around him but didn’t pull away. He stayed, taking all Mathieu had with his eyes open, fingers in Mathieu’s ass, and Mathieu’s cum leaking out and pouring down Win’s chin.
When he was empty, Mathieu slumped back in the chair. He couldn’t feel his legs, and the rest of him felt as if he could crumble to dust with one touch. He reached for Win with a shaking hand, cupping his jaw.
Win released him, allowing Mathieu’s spent dick, wet with spit and cum, to flop onto his upper thigh.
Mathieu stroked a thumb over Win’s lips. “Open for me.” Win did. He hadn’t swallowed; he kept Mathieu’s cum there, on his tongue. Mathieu cupped his hand in front of Win’s mouth silently and Win spit it all out into Mathieu’s waiting hand. Mathieu licked his lips. “Hands and knees.”
Win pulled away, his movements rushed, frantic as he yanked off his pants and got onto his hands and knees right there on the floor, facing away from Mathieu.
Pretty ass in the air.
As Mathieu watched, Win reached behind him and pulled his cheeks apart, exposing his hole for Mathieu, who leaned forward and smeared all that spit and saliva on him, fingers pushing the filthy concoction into Win’s hole as he bucked and cried out, furiously stroking his dick.
Mathieu spread him wide and gave him three fingers, thrusting in and out while Win called his name in a lost and broken voice. Removing his fingers from Win’s clasping tightness, Mathieu got down on his knees on the floor behind Win and hauled him closer with both hands on his hips then leaned forward until his face was where he wanted it to be.
Buried between Win’s ass cheeks.
He moaned in happiness, dick twitching as he laved Win’s hole, licking him up, fingers delving into him again. Win went crazy.
“Fuck. Mathieu. Oh God!”
Mathieu had to hold him tighter as he slammed his fingers deeper and deeper, pressing at Win’s prostate, massaging it, until Win screamed out his release, pouring out his cum onto the floor beneath them before collapsing onto his stomach, taking Mathieu with him.
When he got his breath back, Mathieu positioned himself side by side with the other man so that he was facing Win, whose body was still racked with tremors, and caught his chin, peering into his heavy-lidded eyes.“Mwen renmen ou.”I love you.
Win definitely recognized the phrase because he smiled. “I know. I love you too, Mathieu.”
Those soft words cracked Mathieu open. “I can’t lose you again,” he rasped. “It would kill me.”
Win rolled into him, pressing a kiss to his throat, his chin, his mouth. “You won’t lose me,” he murmured at the corner of Mathieu’s lips. “I won’t let you.”
And Mathieu believed him.
41
It wasmere curiosity that made Mathieu agree to the meeting, and now that he sat in the empty restaurant, waiting for his guests to make their appearance, he wondered if he should have listened to his initial instinct and denied the request.
He’d left Win at home, and Mathieu was already getting antsy. He couldn’t take having Win out of his sight. You’d think it had to do with the intruder who’d gotten past his guards—and he was still plenty fucking pissed about that—but no. He just wanted to be wherever Win was. Wanted to be within touching distance of him at all times.
Win was his grounding force, his North Star, his peace. And without him, Mathieu didn’t know how he could function. Hell, he wasn’t sure how he managed to function all that time when they hadn’t been in each other’s lives.
He picked up his glass and took a sip of bourbon. Normally, he’d have been drinking his favorite Haitian rum, but Bishop had ruined that for him. He could think about Bishop now without wanting to wring that motherfucker’s neck, without rage filling him, because time and distance had given him perspective. He’d had to go through what he did with Bishop to get back to this moment, to truly realize what love was—and wasn’t—and where his heart resided.
With Win.
Always had been. Mathieu had just been too blind, too stubborn, too caught up in everything other than them, to see it. But now he did and he would do anything, go to any lengths, to make sure he didn’t lose Win again.
He’d decided against rebuilding the compound that had been burned down. Instead, he and Win would build something new, something better. Together. For the moment, they would continue to live in the house that used to be their secret spot. Now, he had no secrets from Win, and everybody knew just who Win was to him. Which, of course, meant Win didn’t leave the house without bodyguards. He was Mathieu’s heart walking outside of his body and that was just a goddamn fact.
