Bodhi grinned and rose onto his knees. He uncapped the bottle and slicked his fingers with clear liquid. His hand dipped out of sight, and I jolted at the shock of his cold, slippery touch circling my hole. Goosebumps rippled across my bare skin. His free hand gripped my tattooed thigh, hard enough to bruise beneath the bright ink. Marks that would linger, hidden, like a secret only we knew. One I’d feel every time I pressed my legs together.
There was the slightest pressure, and then he breached me,sliding in past the first knuckle, then the second. He pulled back, only to sink in again, slow and deliberate, repeating the motion until my muscles loosened and I melted into the mattress. The pad of his finger brushed my prostate before disappearing again, a fleeting tease that made me twitch.
“Fuck,” I breathed, rocking my hips down onto his hand. “You tease.”
“You need to learn some patience.” He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh.
“Your face needs to learn patience,” I muttered, making him laugh.
My hips jerked as he pressed firmly against my prostate. Then he did it again, and I cried out, a sudden spurt of precum leaking from the tip of my cock.
“You fucker.”
Bodhi leaned down and dragged his tongue up my shaft, lapping up what I’d spilled. I shuddered, fisting the sheets as he sucked the head into his mouth, his tongue digging into my slit. When he released me, my cock fell back against my stomach with a dull, wet slap. He lifted his head and met my eyes from between my legs.
“You should be careful about mouthing off,” he said calmly, dark smirk in place. “When I’m the one controlling your body right now.”
His voice alone made me want to come on his face and kick him at the same time.
He withdrew his finger, then returned with a second. He spread them wide, scissoring me open, making space for what was coming. Part of me wanted to not react out of pure spite. To lie there, silent, and force him to work harder. But Bodhi was right. He was playing my body like a fiddle, the way he always did, dragging pleasure out of me until I saw stars.
And just when I thought his fingers were enough, he opened his mouth and swallowed my cock to the root. The heat of his mouth, the glide of his tongue, the wetness spilling down his chin as he sucked made my vision blur.
“Jesus—fuck!”
My hands flew to his head, gripping his dark hair. The product he used was sticky against my palms, but I didn’t care. I bucked into his mouth, and he gagged softly as I brushed the back of his throat. The constriction nearly undid me completely, and I was grateful when he pulled back, staring up at me with watery eyes that still managed to smile.
I inhaled. Exhaled. My breaths came shaky and uneven.
Bodhi released me from his mouth and pressed a third finger inside me. My head fell back when he hit my prostate with the kind of precision most men could only dream of. With his mouth too far away now, I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I alternated between gripping the sheets, fisting my own hair, and reaching for whatever part of him I could find.
He watched every twitch, every micro-expression that crossed my face. His eyes sparkled with something close to awe. I could practically see the cogs turning in his head, the careful calculation behind every move, all leading towards the same goal.
Break me.
Then put me back together.
“You’re so beautiful,” he rasped, his tongue dragging teasingly over my balls. “I could watch you like this all day.”
“That’s because— shit, Bodhi—” I huffed, breathless. “Because you’re a sadist.”
He grinned.
“Don’t,” I went on, voice cracking as sensation piled toohigh. “D-don’t make me come yet—mm. I want to come... with you inside me.”
Bodhi sank his teeth into my inner thigh, sharp enough to make me yelp. The flash of pain scrambled my senses, and I couldn’t tell whether it pushed me closer to the edge or pulled me back from it.
Then his fingers were gone. The sudden emptiness made my chest ache. My body clenched instinctively, my hole twitching around nothing.
“Please,” I whined, sitting up and reaching for him. “Fuck me.”
Bodhi leaned in and kissed me hard, stealing my breath until my lungs burned. I used the moment to push him back onto the bed, and he landed with a surprised grunt. Before he could react, I swung a leg over him and straddled his hips. His cock brushed my slick crease, the head catching at my rim and making us both gasp.
For one reckless moment, I wanted to take him bare. Wanted skin on skin. Heat and nothing else. But reality cut through the haze. I’d been tested after my overdose, and I hadn’t been with anyone since. Bodhi hadn’t either, not since before rehab—but that wasn’t the conversation to have now. Not like this.
So I rocked against him once. Twice. Then I pulled back and reached for the condom and lube. I tore the foil open with my teeth and rolled it down his shaft. Added a bit of lube for good measure and tossed the bottle aside.
Rising onto my knees, I scooted forward and reached back to guide him. Bodhi’s hands gripped my hips, steady and grounding, as I lined him up. I exhaled and lowered myself slowly, gasping as he slipped past the first ring of muscle. The sting made me bite my lip.
