I’d only realized recently, why he calls me baby so often.
He’s noticed I don’t like when he calls me Christian.
But he hasn’t asked why.
Not yet.
I lean backwards to plant both my hands on his legs and slide off him before slamming back down again—a splintered moan escaping me when it hits right where I want it.
Reuben releases this low, guttural sound, and I know his reasoning is breaking like mine. “You’re so fucking needy,” his voice is sexy in my ears as he grips my thighs tightly. “Show me how much you need it, baby. Take it now before I fuck you.”
Stars, I can’t tell if he’s begging or demanding it.
I slam myself down onto him, over and over. Again and again. Ripping incoherent sounds from my mouth as I guide him to that spot deep inside me—something I wouldn’t have been able to do at all a few weeks ago. It’s like every nerve inside me is on fire, and where we’re joined—where he’s stroking me—is the source of it all.
By now, I know all the words and phrases that’ll do him in. So right when it’s too much, when the sensations have overwhelmed me and I know I’ve hit my limit, I release the shirt from my teeth and choose the best ones.
“Reuben, I need you. I need you to fuck me.”
It’s like I’ve let something raw out of its cage. He shoots up to drag me down onto the couch, his fingers gripping my throat so tightly, my ass clenches around him. His other hand pins my leg over the sofa, and he drives his cock into me, so violently, it shakes beneath us.
He fucks me like he’s possessed. Until I’m chanting his name—both pleas and demands.
I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for him—sorry I couldn’t give him a name to use—to call me.
So instead, I use the word he likes.
“Break me, baby,” I squeeze the words from my throat, barely meeting his eyes around the tears.
He spits a curse, and my entire body trembles from each thrust—from being overwhelmed like this.
‘Come—inside me—baby—’ The words are a strangled whisper. His grip on my throat is so intense, it pulls my orgasm through my body like a bolt of lightning.
My lips part in a soundless moan as cum spills over my chest and across my neck.
He tells me something—something important—but I can’t hear him over the pressure of his grip on my throat or the roar of my orgasm in my ears.
My consciousness is fading from the lack of oxygen, but it’s okay.
It’s okay because it’s Reuben.
The last thing I remember is feeling whole. Holding every glorious inch of him as he finds his release.
The last thing I feel is him filling up my insides with warm cum. Stuffing me so completely there’s no room for anything else but him.
And the last thing I hear is a whisper of words I can’t make out, before the darkness rolls in.
Chapter 23
Reuben & ‘Christian’
Reuben
I want to help Christian choose a tattoo for Christmas.
It’s the most nerve-wracking thing I’ve ever done in my life, partially because I’m not sure if he’s ready. Still, I’m flipping through the book on the bed when he wakes that morning, and when he opens his eyes, he turns his head to me with sleepy confusion.
“Why would I need a tattoo?” His voice is so sexy when he wakes, and the way he struggles to keep his eyes open—he’s the furthest from a morning riser I’ve ever seen.
