Making me betray my own House, just because he is exactly what I thought he would be.
A perfect home for my depravity.
I bottom out, and for a second we just stay there, joined, his eyes locked on mine. His glasses are skew and I pull them off, tossing them onto the couch beside him. Without them, Ican see the light dusting of freckles over his nose and onto his cheeks.
“Move,” he begs, and I do.
I set a pace, steady, letting him feel every inch. He moans, louder now, not even trying to hide it.
The pressure builds, and I can tell he’s close. I reach down, stroke his cock in time with my thrusts.
“Come for me,” I whisper.
He shudders, then spills, hot and messy between us. His hole clenches around me, and I lose it, spilling inside him, groaning his name.
Not moving, I stay inside him, his ass twitching around my cock. I cradle him, stroke his hair, kiss his temple.
He clings to me, not letting go.
We stay like that for a while, bodies tangled, until the playlist runs out of songs and the world returns.
He looks up, eyes soft. “Is this real?” he asks.
I chuckle, my cock already getting hard inside him. “It’s as real as you want it to be.”
I want to keep him. I want to keep this.
And I will.
Chapter Five: Landon
Mybodywon’tmove.
The world is a blur above me—ceiling, then Briar’s face, then nothing but the wet ache inside me. I try to focus, but there’s too much: the smell of sweat, the stick of my skin against the leather, the heat of my own breath trapped in my lungs. I want to curl into myself, but my limbs are heavy, boneless. My chest rises and falls in shallow, tight jerks, like the air’s been poisoned and I’m not sure I want more of it.
I just got thoroughly fucked by a man.
And I like it.
Oh fuck.
I’m still half hard, somehow. Every movement of my legs drags a shock up my spine, and when I blink, the world comes back into focus.
Briar’s cock is still inside me, and he hasn’t moved. He just leans over me, forehead to my shoulder, his breath cool and damp on my skin. His hand is splayed on my chest, pinning me, but there’s no pressure anymore. He’s just… there.
My ass throbs, a dull, persistent burn, and when he finally withdraws, it’s slow, steady. I feel every inch slide free, everymuscle flutter and then clench around empty space. I want to make a noise, but my throat is raw.
Then there’s slick trail left behind. It leaks out, warm, and runs down over my ass, into the crack of the couch, and I don’t know if I should be ashamed or proud. I’ve never let anyone this deep, not even a woman, not even a finger, not even a fantasy. And now Briar owns that place inside me, filled it, left something in me that’s more than just cum.
He sits back, looking down at me. His hair’s a mess, sweat clinging to his brow. There’s a line of red where my teeth must have found his shoulder at some point, but I don’t remember doing it.
His face is soft. Not soft like gentle, but soft like he’s not ready to put his mask back up yet. The look is hungry and satisfied at once.
He wipes a thumb over my lips, pressing into them. I shiver at the touch, but don’t look away. The intensity is too much, so I look past his shoulder, at the slick of my own release on his abs. He doesn’t care. He’s proud of it.
A minute passes. Maybe two. He doesn’t say anything.
Neither do I.
