Full, like there isn’t enough room to breathe.
My head falling to the pillow, I turn away, biting my lip. Groaning.
Like, there isn’t enough room for me.
In the bathroom pleasure soaked me until I was saturated. Now I’m bone dry and my dick lies forgotten.
The sheets twist in my fists.
What am I even doing? I have no idea. What if Lucero hates this?
Maybe I hate this?
My chest quakes with every short gasp. Eyes squeezing tighter.
If I don’t like this, how can I make Lucero happy?
Lucero’s lips touch the corners of my eyes, his hand on my cheek, pulling me back to face him. When my eyelids flutter open, I find Lucero watching me with such heartbreaking love.
I didn’t even realise I was crying until he kisses away each tear.
“Hello, Golden Ramnarine.”
All the air trapped in my lungs leaves me. “Hi, Lucero Toledo…”
He smiles, as if I could do no wrong. “How many times have I told you you're perfect?”
As I stare into his blue gaze, I begin to calm and my fists untangle from the sheets finger by finger.
“Once or twice.” I give him a watery chuckle.
His returning chuckle warms my chest. “We can stop, we can always stop, my love. Simply being by your side will always be the greatest gift.”
Making out and sucking him off was something new and fun. Sex, for some reason, is bigger. Maybe being this intimately close to someone, no matter who you are, is always kinda scary.
Jace was scary, too. But he isn’t like the man above me, who waits patiently—lovingly. They’re so vastly different they could be different species. Lucero makes me powerful, brave when Jace only wanted me broken.
My chest fills, completely. It’s okay, though, I made room enough for the both of us. Lucero calls me perfect, but really, he only needs me to be myself.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper, unclenching. “I was…just a little scared, but only for a moment.”
Lucero’s forehead drops onto mine. “I’m a little scared, too,” he confesses.
My eyelids flutter. “Really?”
“Yes, but you make me very brave. Thank you, love.”
“Lucero,” I whisper, more tears flowing down my cheeks. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Of course we think the same, we’re soulmates.” He takes hold of my hand, and places it on my lower stomach. “I’m right here, Golden. Nowhere else. Never anywhere else.”
Slowly he thrusts his hips, our eyes locked. He captures my other hand pressed into the bed, and our fingers entwine. More tears flow down my cheeks, but I moan as his hot length grazes against my prostate.
How could I not feel loved, safe, cared for as we share this experience? He is my heart, my soulmate—my light. Our eyes never sway, our fingers remain woven. I am his Golden, he is my Lucero.
“I want you to cum, Lucero, please,” I moan.
It takes time for me to get hard again. But the pleasure is always there, so deep that I’m not sure if it's that, or maybe I just love Lucero so much my body has to respond.
