I grabbed the back of his knees and pushed them up to his chest. Fucking into him harder. He moved up the bed with eachslap of my hips against his ass. The salacious sound was the only thing that could be heard above our labored breaths and deep moans.
Elliot braced his hands against my headboard, holding on for dear life as I drilled into him like my life depended on it. I thrust once, twice more when I felt his body lock up. His back arched, changing the angle as he bore down on me, taking me deeper still.
Head thrown back, he screamed his release. His ass clamped down on me, making it almost impossible to move, squeezing me so hard I thought I’d black out from the intensity.
“Oh my god. I’m coming.”
Thick ropes of cum sprayed from his untouched cock all over his chest and mine as I continued to move. I lost my battle when he licked a drop of cum off his lips and looked directly into my eyes.
“Please, Daddy. Fill me up.”
One last slam of my hips rocked the bed so hard I thought it might break. And the heat at the base of my spine exploded like a supernova. My orgasm dragged me down in violent waves of molten pleasure. My cock twitched as I filled him with my cum. Spurt after spurt until I was wrung out. Left gasping for breath, unsure of which way was up.
Gentle hands cupped my face and pulled my lips to his. I felt the shape of his smile against mine before my vision had cleared. He licked into my mouth and moaned when my spent cock twitched again.
“Thank you,” he breathed against me then nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck. Arms wrapped around me holding me hostage.
When I went to pull away, Elliot shook his head. “I want you to stay inside me a little longer,” he mumbled sleepily. “I love feeling so full of you. I never want it to end…”
“Me too, my sweet boy.”
It didn’t take long for his breathing to even out and the strength to fade from his grasp. But I stayed a few minutes longer until I was certain he was asleep and wouldn’t miss me before I eased out of him and padded into the bathroom.
With a warm wash cloth in hand, I cleaned him up. Chest first giving him as much care and attention as he’d shown me. I stopped and stared as my release slowly seeped from his puffy hole for a few minutes while he slept. Who could blame me?
It was the most gorgeous sight. It stirred something primal in me. And I knew right there and then I’d want this again. Elliot wrecked and wrung out in my bed. Skin shimmering in the muted light, my release inside him. The steady rise and fall of his chest. All of it could be my forever if I was worthy of him.
But to have that, I had to accept I had a lot of work to do. For the first time in my life I felt ready to face my past. The trauma that had shaped me into the scared man I’d become.
Elliot was worth everything. Even if that meant I would suffer. I’d do it willingly if it meant I'd get to truly have a chance to be with him.
Morning came softly.Not all at once—not with panic or regret—but in quiet layers. Pale light filtered through the curtains, brushing over skin, catching on dust motes and freckles and the slow rise and fall of Elliot’s breath against my chest.
He was wrapped around me like he’d grown there overnight.
One arm slung across my ribs. One leg tangled with mine. His head tucked beneath my chin, warm and solid and real.When he shifted, half-asleep, he made a small sound—content, unguarded—and pressed closer like his body knew exactly where it belonged.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
For a moment, I let myself live there. In the warmth. In the certainty of him. In the way the ache in my chest wasn’t fear this time. It was fullness.
Elliot blinked awake slowly, lashes fluttering as he lifted his head just enough to look at me. His hair was a mess. His mouth curved into a sleepy smile.
“Morning,” he murmured.
“Morning, baby boy.”
He kissed my chest, lazy and affectionate, then settled back down, tracing idle shapes into my skin with his fingers. No urgency. No asking. Just closeness.
“I slept,” he said quietly, like it surprised him.
I kissed his temple. “Yeah. You did.”
We stayed like that for a while—breathing together, trading soft kisses, whispering nothing at all. It felt dangerously easy to imagine this as a beginning instead of a crossroads.
And that’s when it hit me. Not fear or shame. But clarity. The kind that doesn’t shout—just settles into your bones and refuses to be ignored.
I held him tighter, heart lifting even as something inside me braced. “Hey,” I said after a while. “You still going to call Nora today?”
