I lick my lips and brush my hands to the hem of the shirt. “You’re nothing like him,” I tell him. “But in this shirt…you remind me of him. What he did to me—but I want you. I want to kiss you. I want to touch you while you’re wearing his clothing.”
Soren eyes my face. My face that’s flushed pink and still damp from previous tears.
“I’ll give you anything you want,” he promises me. “As long as you’re sure.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself closer to him. Pressing my damp naked chest to the shirt. “I want to forget about him, but I can’t. I have to live with it, but maybe it doesn’t have to hurt so much. Maybe you can help take some of the pain away.”
“For you? Always,” Soren whispers. “Just tell me what you need.”
“I need you,” I tell him, tears in my eyes. “I need you to fuck me while wearing my dead father’s shirt, so that I can think about you and nothing else. Just you.”
Soren captures my mouth without another word. He kisses me firm and ardent, with no hesitation whatsoever. It’s not the soft or slow kiss from the night before; no, it’s rough and dominant.
The towel falls from my waist to the floor and Soren’s hands wrap around my waist, then slide to my back. His large, rough hand presses to my lower back and urges me closer to him.
I kiss him back deeply, my lips crushing to his before parting and allowing his tongue to invade my mouth without thought. His mouth tastes of the both of us from the night before and a bit of morning breath, but I don’t care.
I also don’t care that my stomach is growling, body aching, and assassins are literally after our ass.
Frankly, if I have to die today, I’d rather die in the arms of the man I love, naked and jizzing all over than not.
To die in Soren’s embrace is the best option out of all of them.
“Ren,” I moan, muffled into the kiss.
Soren groans in response and swirls his tongue around mine. His hands slide down to my ass and grip tightly. The heat from the bath can’t compare to the warmth that wells up into my body because of his touch. Arousal tingles all down my stomach and groin to my cock, hardening it against his groin. Then I’m trapped between my own body and his stomach as he pulls me onto my tip toes.
Soren’s strong arms and hands ease me up into I’m prompted to wrap my legs around him.
“Mine,” he rumbles as he breaks the kiss. “Only mine.”
I feel his hard length inside of the sweats he’s wearing and find myself rocking against him to try and urge him on.
“Please,” I beg him.
He tilts his head down and kisses up my neck to my ear. One of his hands leaves my ass, the other holding me up, and slides up my chest. He toys with one of my nipples, pulling and pinching at it until I gasp.
“Such a naughty boy,” Soren croons. “Naughty boy who wants to be fucked so bad.”
I tremble. He chuckles darkly.
I rake my fingers through the back of his hair and grip tightly, listening to the moan in response to my nails against his scalp.
Despite all of the cuts and scars already on his body, I know that they won’t be the only ones after we’re done. Not on either of us.
Soren bites at my neck so hard that I yelp and press my face into his neck.
I think I’m bleeding, and I like it. I like the way it feels for him to mark me like this. Make me whimper and bleed.
Soren sucks on his fingers and then shoves them up my ass.
As he plays with me, I moan and squirm against him like a pathetic mewling animal.
“Needy little lamb,” Soren growls against my shoulder as his fingers thrust in and out of me from behind.
I gasp against his neck and grind my hips back and forwards, over and over again.
“I need you, I n-need you so bad.”
