Not right away.
Instead, I lean over him, wrapping one arm around his chest, the other planted beside his head.I press soft, open-mouthed kisses to the nape of his neck as our bodies tremble in sync.
“You okay?”I whisper.
He hums, the sound low and blissed out.“Better than okay.”
For a long moment, there’s nothing but heat and breath and the quiet aftermath of something sacred and filthy and real.And I know—without question—I want this.
Him.
Her.
All of it.
Both of them.
I can’t wait to be home with our woman.Summer can’t get here soon enough so we can care for her while she’s growing our baby.Maybe the whole “you’re not enough” decision from Colorado was the best thing that could happen to me because now, now I have them both.And soon we’ll have our family.
I let us breathe for a while.Let the sweat cool between our skin.My cock softens slowly, still inside him, still surrounded by warmth.
I don’t want to move.
Eventually, when our breathing evens out, I ease back carefully.I slip out of him with a slow, wet drag, and Monty lets out the softest sound—half whine, half sigh.
I look down at him.
My cum drips out of him in slow, thick lines.Down the backs of his thighs.Onto the sheets.It’s obscene.Beautiful.A picture I want to hold onto.“You’re dripping for me, babe.You like that?”
I leave it there for a second longer—watching it, letting it sear into memory—before I move.
I grab a warm towel from the bathroom.Return quietly.Kneel behind him.
Monty stays exactly where he is, knees still spread, back relaxed, trusting me with what’s most exposed.
The towel brushes him gently, careful, unhurried.I clean him slowly, wiping away what’s spilled without rushing to erase the proof of what we just did.
He exhales.
A sound that’s half relief, half satisfaction.
“This felt ...different,” he murmurs.
I pause, glance up at him.“Different how?”
“When I’m with Vesper,” he says quietly, voice still thick, eyes half-lidded as I clean him with slow, tender strokes, “I love knowing I’m giving her something.That I’m filling her.That she keeps it, accepts it—accepts me.”
He swallows.Breath hitches a little.
“Letting me brand her.”
The word lands like heat between us—heavy and true.
“It’s not just sex,” he goes on.“It’s not about power.It’s about being chosen.Trusted.There’s something about finishing in her that makes me feel ...grounded.Like I’m taking care of her in a way that’s physical and emotional at the same time.”
He exhales slowly, then glances over his shoulder at me.“And this—with you—it’s not different.It’s the same kind of deeper.”
I press a kiss to his spine.My hand stills on his skin, my throat tightening around the intimacy of it.Not shame.Awe.
