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“Tap my leg, sweetheart,” I tell him, releasing his hands and slowing down to a forceful grind. He frowns up at me, confused. “Tap my leg to keep going. If you stop, I stop.”

He doesn’t do as I say, so I pull out of him slowly. When I go to move away, his hand quickly taps my thigh. I raise an eyebrow, waiting. A second tap, and a third. He sets a rhythmic pace, and I slide back into him, stomach clenching from the pressure.

“Good boy,” I mutter, matching my thrusts to his taps, applying pressure to his throat in intervals. I count to three before releasing him again, erring on the side of caution. Just enough for his eyes to roll back in his head and his cock to twitch as it spurts out precum. “I’m getting close, are you coming with me?” I put the decision in his hands. If he really doesn’t want to finish, I’ll make sure he doesn’t.

He stops tapping my thigh, holding my gaze as I rock into him. His steel-grey eyes flick down to my mouth—I’d give him that too. I want to know what his lips feel like against mine, and the taste of him.

“Make me come,” he whispers.

I nod, pinning his wrists to the mattress. My movements become desperate as heat and electricity storm inside me, building until I can’t hold it any longer. I lean forward, blanketing his smaller body with mine as I bury my face into his neck, licking him from collarbone to ear.

“Fuck!” Noah gasps. He shudders beneath me, and the heat of his cum hits my stomach. It instantly sets me off. I bite down on his earlobe as my cock kicks, filling the condom.

We stay like that for a moment, with me trying not to put all my weight on him as I catch my breath. I release his ear and pull back, taking in his blissed-out expression.

“Such a pretty princess when you’re all fucked out, sweetheart,” I chuckle, releasing his wrists to stroke my thumb over his bottom lip. Quicker than I can anticipate, he bites me hard. “Fuck!” I snatch my hand back, shaking out the pain. “You’re a feral wee beast,” I snap, climbing off him.

“Call me princess again and see what happens,” he threatens.

I get a cloth from the bathroom to clean him up. We really need to talk, but by the time I get back, he’s fast asleep. I wipe his stomach and cock clean then climb into bed, pushing him away from me, the way he likes it. My head barely touches the pillow before I pass out, too.

ROBBIE

The smell of citrus fills the air, and I find myself gravitating towards it. I stretch my arms out until I brush against something soft and smooth. In my sleepy daze, I feel out a hip, then run my hand across the hills and valley of a pert arse. Humming with contentment, I wrap my arms around the man in my bed and pull him against my chest, tucking my knees behind his. I shove my nose into his hair, breathing in deeply.

I’m drifting back to sleep, holding on to my human-shaped teddy bear, when I’m roughly shoved backwards.

“Get the fuck off!”

I recognise the raspy, agitated voice immediately. Noah huffs as he wriggles, trying to get away from me, so I roll over until I’m fully on top of his small frame, letting my body go limp.

“Robbie!” he splutters. He thrashes around, his knee getting dangerously close to my balls, and I reluctantly roll off him and jump out of bed.

“You’re the one who asked to sleep in my bed,” I say, stretching my arms to the ceiling.

Noah sits up, his black curls sticking up all over the place. He throws the duvet off and gets out of bed. “That doesn’t mean I want unsolicited cuddles,” he snaps. “There’s rules!”

I watch his little arse bounce as he storms off to the en suite, before the sinking feeling of guilt settles in my gut again. “Wait, Noah, we need to ta⁠—”

He slams the door in my face.

“Brat,” I grumble as I pull my joggers on.

He’s not getting away with avoiding talking about last night. I should have stopped—fuck, I shouldn’t have even started. It was bad enough doing it the first time, let alone a second. He said it would be a one-time thing. He broke the rules. Not me.

As if that makes it any better.

Yesterday, I thought if I distanced myself and didn’t bring up our grief, maybe it would be better. He’ll be leaving in a few days to go back to his life in Cumbria, and I’ll be here. There’s no reason to get close to him when I know he’s about to leave.

But then he had to go and be nice. It wasn’t lost on me that his offer to play on the console was entirely for my benefit and not his. He was trying to make me happy. And if he was trying to make me happy, then maybe … maybe that means he cares.

I leave Noah to shower in peace and go downstairs to make breakfast. I’m dishing up scrambled eggs and bacon when the sound of the muffled TV fills the silent house.

Noah suddenly shouts for me, his voice desperate. I drop the butter knife onto the counter and run into the living room. “What? What’s wrong?”

He points at the TV, where there’s a picture of Bailey on the screen.

I frown. “Why’s Bai⁠—”