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His wide cock pressed hard against my longer, thinner dick. The patch of hair over his tight sac next to my hairless body. Both cocks glistening with dripping pre-cum that he scoops up with his fingers and smears over us both.
I have always wanted to try this, fantasised about it. But I never knewanythingcould feel like this. As Roan strokes us together, the ridges on his cock massage the underside of my overly sensitive dick.
The sensation is too much, and I writhe restlessly beneath him, unable to bear the contact but unable to stop him or pull away. Out of my mind and body with lust, I am vaguely aware that his eyes are on me, watching as my head tips back, eyes clenched in pleasure, biting my lip to try to contain my whimpering sobs.
“That’s it, baby, give it to me.” Fuck. It’s the baby that does it to me, sending me over the edge. My legs tighten around his hips, my fingers gouging into his shoulders, the only thing grounding me as I fly from my body in ecstasy.
Behind my clenched eyes, constellations explode, white noise filling my ears. In his hand, my cock jerks against his, my cum flooding his dick as he strokes faster. I feel him swell, the throbat the base of his cock, and then his own release joining mine, as he growls my name.
It’s almost enough to make me cum again, but I don’t have it in me, my body buzzing as I slowly come back to reality, Roan peppering my face with snuffly kisses, nuzzling at my neck affectionately. It’s too much, foolish butterflies fluttering in my stomach. But I’m too sated, too happy to do anything but run my hands over his back, feeling the connection to him.
Only when I stretch, relishing in the pleasant, heavy ache in my body under his do I realise that we never got undressed, and my singlet is now streaked with our joint release.
Shit.
Reality seems to be hitting Roan too, if the way he’s just stiffened under my touch is any indication. I breathe a deep sigh as he slowly moves back, his shuttered eyes downcast, avoiding mine like a curse. The change in him is visceral. I mentally slam the cage on those stupid butterflies as I feel him withdraw, bracing myself for the inevitable rejection.
Because there is always rejection.
My parents. Darius. Roan.
It always comes eventually.
The hazy afterglow clears rapidly when I see thelookcoming over Roan’s face. Solemn,concerned, tinged with regret. I flush hot and cold all at once as I try to not cry. I know that I’ll break if he tries to tell me we shouldn’t have done what we just did. Not when I just came so hard I think I saw the faces of the Gods. Not when it was so beautiful. So right. I don’t want to have that conversation.
So, I do the only other thing I know to do, and plaster what I hope is a sassy smile on my face. “All that to get out of showing me your tattoos, Roan. Really not complaining, but it seems a bit much don’t you think?”
Roan
I can’t believe wedid that—I can’t believeIdid that. I can’t believe Icamelike that. It had never been so… intense. Primal. Connected.
The feral need that had been growling and stretching inside me since I pulled Theo from the cottage should be finally sated, but instead it’s clamouring for more. To claim him. Own him. Give myself to him. To tie him to me and never let him go.
It is, quite frankly, terrifying. Despite preferring one-night stands or casual things, I have been in relationships before. But never has anyone consumed me or my mind as much as Theo. Never has anyone driven me to the depths of desperation he has. The need to devour every aspect of his passions.
Never once have I yearned for more, foreverything,with another being. Except for Theo. For him, I have fuckingyearned.
Feeling how it could be between us, how itisbetween us, has shaken me to my very core.
The floorboards are hard under my knees, the ache from the pressure only just beginning to seep into my consciousness. Hisankles are still locked over my calves, and I can feel the strain there, see the tenseness in his body, despite his joking.
The seductive smile doesn’t quite mask the hurt in his eyes. I sit back on my heels, or try to, instead my ass hits his feet. But he doesn’t move them and so I sit there and tuck my dick back in my pants to buy myself and my short-circuited brain some time.
His fingers are toying with his singlet, pulling and twisting at the fabric, right beside the combined mess we made. I blink my attention away and scrub my face with my hand, like maybe I can scrub away the last twenty minutes.
The last twenty minutes that had been the most consumingly passionate, perfect minutes of my life.
Fuck.
“Theo we—”
His hand strikes through the air swiftly, cutting me off. The harried movements of him untangling his feet from under my ass almost pitch me forward as he scrambles to sit up. Away from me.
“Do not say it, Roan. Do not fucking say it, or I swear I’ll burn the tavern to the ground.” He turns his back to me as he puts himself back together, only turning to face me after he is all zipped up.
He gets to his feet, brushing himself off. There are tears in his eyes; they glisten in the golden afternoon sun streaming through the windows. He looks so beautiful in the light. Golden. Ravaged. Powerful. Sated. But now devastated.
Because of me.
