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That day is coming isn’t it?
And soon?
How much time do I have?
“Do you have any oil?” Crane says gruffly, biting at my neck and bringing me back to the present. His teeth pinch and hurt but then he soothes it with flat sweeps of his tongue. I’m trembling with need now, hard as stone, all my blood gathered in my cock leaving the rest of me to feel empty.
“No,” I say through a disappointed gasp as I let my hands trail over his lean hips to his thick cock that juts out between him. He feels like fiery iron in my hands, veiny and rigid, all of this for me. I run my thumb over the flared tip, gliding along the slit and pushing the beads of arousal down his length until he lets out a low groan that shakes the bed and gets me even harder.
“Touching me without my permission?” Crane muses, though the tremor in his voice betrays his easy tone. “I’ll allow it.”
Then he lays his entire body over mine, his weight taking my breath away, and then pulls back enough to spit into his palm. He brings that hand down to his cock, his wrist rubbing against mine as he does so and causing me to press my hips up into him in a desperate need to fuck.
“Open your mouth, sweetheart,” he says to me and I obey as he dips his head down and licks the inside of my lips, tasting, savoring, so wet, wet, wet, before he presses his hips down against mine, rubbing his cock against mine.
“Fuck,” I cry out, my eyes rolling back and spine bowing toward him as the sensations threaten to destroy me. There’s enough moisture from our arousal and his spit to make the rutting silky smooth and I feel myself let go, lost to the sensation of this man above me, taking what he wants from me and keeping me safe at the same time.
He might not be able to save me but at least, in this moment, he’s all mine and I’m all his.
“God, you’re handsome when you’re beneath me,” he says in a throaty, lust-choked voice that makes my blood run even hotter. “I’m going to have to keep you for life.”
I hate the way my heart jumps at that words, the lightness inside me, like I haven’t seen the sun in years.
But that hate melts into pleasure as he begins to move his hips against mine, our cocks rubbing and fucking against each other, our stomach’s taught, hard and growing slicker by the second. The feeling of him above me is like nothing else and I’m reaching up, my nails making half-moon grooves into his shoulder blades as they work, his elbows planted on either side of my shoulders as he braces himself.
Sweat begins to drip off him and onto my chest, pooling to my stomach as he works me, his lower body grinding and flexing, the bed creaking, our ragged breath and grunts filling the space of this small room.
“Sir,” I say through a gasp, unable to keep slipping back into a year ago.
“Mmm?” he says, his voice rumbling, breath shallow and tight as he presses a sweat-damp forehead against mine.
“Can I come?” I whisper.
I’m going to come, is what I mean to say, the muscles in my thighs tensing as I try to hold my orgasm back. But it’s too good, it’s too good like this, with him.
Like this, with him.
Too good.
He pulls back enough to stare me in the eyes, his pupils black and frenzied, the control on his face is being held together by a thread.
“Yes,” he whispers back.
He drives his hips against me hard, unrepentant thrusts that make my back arch, my mouth fall open in a rough cry as I come, my orgasm a sharp, venomous monster that claws through my body after being teased for so long last night. My cock jerks alongside my convulsing limbs, thick streams of semen spurting out between our stomachs.
“Oh, Jesus,” Crane murmurs through a strained gasp and I know him, I know his body, how he’s unable to hold himself back whenever I come. He ruts against my body faster and harder now, his cock lubricated by my own hot seed, and then his neck is bending back, showing me his perfect long throat and he’s releasing between us, warmth and stickiness spreading.
Then he stills and his head is buried in the crook of my neck and as he collapses his full weight on me, I wrap my arms around his back and hold him. I want to ask him what’s wrong, what happened today, but I don’t want to rush him. He needed to get that out of him first.
We just remain as we are, breathing hard, our hearts nearly colliding as they beat wildly against our ribcages. Somewhere in my darkened depths I know that the Hessian is still there, waiting for nightfall. But at this moment, it’s just me.
