“Use your words, little prince,” he tells me as he works my cock, nice and slow. I push back against him, trying to angle myself just right.
“Aaron—”
“Tell me what you want. Be specific.” I hear the humor in his voice, tinged with lust. I can feel his cock throbbing against my seam.
I look at him over my shoulder.
“I want you, Aaron,” I say, the words heavy in my throat. I push back against him, and he presses his cockhead between my cheeks just a fraction, and my cock throbs.
“How do you want me, baby?” he asks, nibbling my ear. The water rushes around us, and the ecstasy is too much. I think I might come just like this, and he’s not even anywhere near inside me yet.
And that’s where I want him to be. Inside me. All around me.
I want to be consumed by Aaron Everett.
I want to be owned by Aaron Everett.
“Just like this,” I breathe. “I want you to take me, just like this.”
He stills for a moment, my request in the air like an echo as the water falls on us.
“You want me to fuck you?” he asks, his voice clear and crisp. I nod.
“Yes,” I say, my cock weeping with precum.
“Are you sure…” he asks. I nod, pushing my ass back against the head of his cock.
“Yes!” I tell him, the desperation eating me alive.
“Say it then.” His voice changes. It’s darker, harsher.
He slips a finger through my seam, pressing against my hole, and the touch isn’t sweet or gently. It’s deliberate.
I gasp.
“I need to hear you say it,” he says.
His finger presses into me, and I groan, my cock in his hand throbbing. I’m not going to last long.
Then again, I never seem to be able to hold out for this man. He knows just how to play my strings right.
“Please,” I moan. “Please fuck me, Daddy.”
The groan that escapes his chest is like an earthquake.
“Fucking hell, Jacob.” He kisses my mouth, one hand on my cock as he presses himself against my hole. I’m not nearly lubed up enough, water isn’t the greatest, but I don’t care right now. I know I’m going to feel this tomorrow, and I look forward to it. It’s been a long time since I’ve let anyone fuck me.
Four years, to be exact. I try not to think about the fact that the last person who fucked me is throwing a party tomorrow, and I’ll have to look at him, knowing where he’s been and what he’s done.
But it’ll be a little easier, I think, because I’ll have the reminder of where Aaron has been. My body will remember every touch, every thrust, and every kiss. He’ll chase those memories away and replace them with perfect ones.
I want that. More than anything.
For Aaron to give me new memories.
He lets go of my mouth, using one hand to line himself up and pushes forth. I grimace and he stops.
“Don’t stop,” I plead. “Please, just… don’t stop.” Aaron listens without protest, pushing forth a little further. He pulls back and thrusts forth again. It takes two tries until he manages his way past my resistance, and the moment he bottoms out, we both still. His right hand still holds my cock, and his free hand holds me against him. His palm rests over my heart.
