The burn on his hip was healing really well. He’d have a scar, but the doc told him he was lucky and wouldn’t need a skin graft. He was still perfect to me.
After another couple of days, the light in his eyes started to come through. By the end of the week, he was mostly back to himself.
He’d been in contact with the Bishop and Mother Helen, making sure they were okay. Bishop Wilson told him to take a leave of absence to heal. I had already called Wilson before Ewen talked to him. I informed the bishop his debt I covered wouldcome back, ten-fold, if he didn’t give Ewen time off. He was a smart man when he told Ewen just that.
I held him tight in my arms every night, telling him how much I was in love with him. He never said it back, but he never shied away from the affection. When I first started calling him baby he didn’t object to that either. Both the term and confession of feelings were never planned but came naturally. He didn’t seem to mind so I never stopped.
I didn’t go to the office that first week. Ciaran had just lost someone he loved so he understood where I was coming from. He knew I had to be with Ewen at this time.
Ewen and I went shopping yesterday to get him new clothes. I told him I was more than okay with him wearing mine. Everything that was mine was his. He pushed back, saying he needed something that belonged to him. He really is a simple man. I wanted to stock my closet full of clothes for him, but he refused. He bought only a few pairs of jeans, some shirts, and necessities. He then fought me when I tried to pay. One day this man will learn to not object.
Our life has become simple and engrained with nothing but each other. We haven’t done anything more than hold each other and kiss, and I won’t push for anything more until he’s ready.
Tonight is easy. We ordered a pizza and have been snuggling on the couch. He insisted we watch the show where he got Murder Mittens’ name.
“Why do you call Beocca Murder Mittens?” he questions.
Guess now is a good time to tell him the story of how the cat got his nickname. “At first it was the calmness in his face when he brought me a dead mouse during one of my stalking trips. Then one night when I was over he caught a mouse, and let’s just say he got a bit messy. I cleaned him up and decided I liked Murder Mittens better than Benicio.”
He laughs and sits up, bringing him eye level with me. “It’s Beocca, just like the priest in this show.”
“It’s a hard name to say.”
“You speak Gaelic, yet you can’t say an old historical name?” He leans in and kisses my jaw.
“Semantics,” I say and turn to capture his lips. Kissing him feels like my idea of Heaven—his full lips cradling mine.
Our kiss ramps up, turning from innocent to filthy. I lay him back along the couch and cover him, fully taking advantage of the moment. When he moves to strip off my shirt I pull him up. I’m not going to have the first time we’re naked together in a week being cramped up on a couch. I want him fully stretched out under me.
We run up the stairs to my bedroom, shedding our clothes along the way. By the time we reach the room we’re fully naked. He lies on the bed and props himself on his elbows. The predator in me comes to the surface. I prowl over to him, fighting the temptation to lick his throbbing dick. When I come face to face with him he drops down and I follow. I grab the back of his neck and give him the deepest kiss I can, showing him all my dark desires and adoration for him with my kiss.
Our dicks grind together and I want him to lose his mind. Reaching down, I encase both of us in my hand. I pull and tug us in unison, driving us both insane. We’ve released so much precum my hand glides without any effort.
Ewen breaks the kiss. “I want to feel you.”
“You are baby. Don’t you feel my cock loving yours?”
He looks down and bites his lip, moaning. I can only imagine how hot it is to see, but I refuse to look away from his face.
He’s panting, ready to give in. I will be right behind him. This is divine. “No, I want tofeelyou. Inside me.”
My hand stills, and I squeeze us a bit tighter. “You don’t want that.”
He grabs my face, closing the short distance between us. “I do. I need something to remind me I’m alive. I want you. All of you.” He places a gentle kiss on my lips, then whispers, “Please make love to me.”
Make love to me.The words permanently brand themselves into my brain. Nothing has ever been said to me with such power and conviction. This amazing, beautiful soul wants me. “Ar—are you sure?” I don’t think I’ve ever stuttered in my life, but what Ewen said…his dick throbs against mine in my hand. His eyes drill his resolve into me. His warm hands embrace my face.
“Do you want me?” he asks in a small voice. My moment of hesitation probably sent his mind to question things, probably thinking I don’t.
I stroke us again. “Fuck yes baby. I want to claim and fuck you more than I want to live.” I twist my hand up and down. “I want to show you the fucking stars. I want—noneed—to show you how much I love you while you choke the life out of my cock.”
He pulls me in for another kiss. This one is different. He makes love to me with his tongue, stealing my tarnished soul.
With more resolve than I expected from myself I remove my hand and crawl away from him. Standing, I reach over and open the drawer in my side table. I grab the bottle of lube then turn toward Ewen. I prowl back on my knees, showing my dominance.
Once my knees bump his thighs, he opens his legs wider for me. I’ve been with Ewen in so many filthy ways, but I’ve never seen him so sure before this moment. His face relays nothing but confidence.
I pour lube into my hand and begin my show for Ewen. I want to build him up before I take him. Stroking myself, I look down at him. “Do you want this?”
