Page 64 of Who The Hell Are You?

I nip and lick at his neck as he brings his fingers to my hole and presses one in right to the knuckle, stealing my breath in the most delicious pleasure I’ve ever felt.

“You’re still open from this morning.”

I preen, feeling like such a good boy for staying relaxed for him.

“My perfect man is such a good boyfriend. Aren’t you? You’re going to let me make love to this ass until I pump you so full of cum, you’ll feel me for days.”

I melt into the bed. If I was one of those werewolf alphas from his paranormal romance books, I’d be purring. I’d probably also be pregnant by how much he comes, a concept of his books I don’t really understand, but Miles says it’s the beauty of the gay omegaverse.

“Baby, are you ready?” He runs his fingers along my jaw and kisses me, grounding me back to the present and I feel the head of his cock waiting at my entrance.

“Please put it in.” I beg. He kisses me deeply, positions my body further onto his lap; my thighs hanging over the top of his and pushes in.

I don’t think I’ll ever get over this feeling of being so full, I feel like my soul is complete. There's only slight pressure, but I relax into the sting. I feel fucking wild for it. I want everything he could ever give me. Starting with shallow thrusts, I put my leg over his shoulder. Taking my ankle, he plants a kiss against the tattoo of a fox on my leg, before ramming his dick so forcefully into me. I see stars.

“Fuck! Yes!” I shout, feeling my balls already starting to tighten and desire is licking at every inch of my skin. I want to fall blissfully into pleasure only he gives me.

“God, your hole feels so perfect Cassie. It’s like it was made for my dick.”

I frantically nod, my entire body starting to move with the bed as he pounds into me. The lean muscles in his arms strain, pressing into the mattress at either side of my head. I feel like a bent pretzel and I fucking love it. He’s phenomenal, beautiful, strong and sexy above me as he uses my body. I want him to. I’m a total simp for anything he wants. “Yes, yours. Made for you. Mine.” My words are no longer making sense as I start to tingle all over, my toes feeling numb as my orgasm starts to crash down on me fast. I’ve come hands free a few times and Miles says it’s the sexiest thing he's ever seen, so it looks like he’s getting another show, because my hands are firmly screwed in the sheets as I start to come.

“Baby–” Is all I choke out before warm streaks paint my stomach, some splashing up onto my chest.

He uses me faster, gripping under my ass as he lifts my lower half off of the bed. I can feel every ridge of his cock, his vein along his shaft pulsing and the head catches on my rim, making me feel delirious every time it happens. I love this angle, being able to see up into his dazzling turquoise pools; the desire, need and love shining to the brim in them.

“I fucking love you! I love you so much! I’m going to fucking marry you, have kids with you and die with you. We’re dying together, I’ll make it happen.” Miles shouts his final groan as he slams home, shooting thick streaks into me.

Falling forward, he catches himself on his elbows, softly resting his face into my neck. Our bodies are a mess, but I don’t care. It means we get to shower together and I’ll never turn that down.

I start to laugh, unable to calm my racing heart. “You should not propose marriage, kids and death to someone whilst having sex.” I tease, receiving a weak slap to my upper arm.

“Like you’d turn me down.” He mumbles and then we both crack up, because he’s right. I’d never say no to him, ever.

“I swear Cassie, it's barely been out two minutes and I just know they're going to swap it out for the Christmas menu.” Miles tells me for the twelfth time this week, as he drinks deeply from the bonfire hot chocolate we've grabbed at the coffee house. We’re sitting in a cosy nook in the very cafe we met, where drenched in cold caramel coffee, we both started to fall unexpectedly.

He’s editing the video we just made together, whilst I enjoy my first coffee after weeks of not being allowed the unnecessary caffeine. I swear, if it wasn’t Mum, Miles had me on strict rules so that I got better. My scar is now an itchy red line and my hair has actually started to grow back, saving me from shaving it all off.

“I mean, Christmas drinks are still spiced, they can’t be that different?”

He stares at me in stunned silence, before placing his phone down and taking one of my hands. “I say this with all the love in my heart. Never mistake pumpkin for gingerbread. Our relationship won’t survive.”

Rolling my eyes, I swat at his hand, receiving wild laughter as I continue to scowl at him over my coffee cup.

Returning to editing the video, I watch happily, just soaking in the moments with him silently as he uploads it to his mask account. We’ve both decided to keep our accounts, especially since after I actually paid attention to who messaged me other than Miles. Brands I actually really like reached out and wanted to collaborate. The underwear we’re both wearing–an endorsement from my favourite store! We even got paid, with more opportunities to come once we see how the post does when it goes live this week. Even if it started as some weird foreplay challenge, I actually like teasing the internet, because it’s always been about him. He feels the same way, so we’re posting a video that solidifies we’ll be only posting videos together going forward. It’s the end of the thirsty boy single chapter, and also we're announcing that the ghostface mask will be retiring until next spooky season. Miles is going to don a new mask, which will be a reveal to even me very soon.

“There. Done!”

I lean in to see his phone screen, watching as the video hits social media and already the likes start. Sometimes on an evening we both hunt for the craziest comments. It’s become one of our favourite down time hobbies, because Jesus, people are crazy for masked men.

It starts with the clip of Miles laid on the bed alone, looking at the camera until he smirks and my hand creeps up to grab his throat. The camera then does a little roll, like I’ve flipped him, and it then focuses on my back muscles flexing into a languid roll. A hand blocks the camera, then Miles steps away, clothed in a tight t-shirt and his cargo pants with all the loops and belts. My arms wrap around him and then I appear, revealing myself in all black too, hair flopping over my eyes, but the look in them is intense and possessive. He loved it.

Tapping the screen, Miles hums like he’s looking at something incredibly romantic, or a cute cow. “You’re so perfect.”

Chuckling, I lean over into his space and kiss his temple. “We’re perfect together.”

“Cheers to that.” Lifting his heavily spiced hot chocolate that smells like cherry gateau, he clinks it against my mug and places a kiss on my lips that promises many, many more.

Exiting the coffee house, like the first time but roles reversed, a very familiar dirty blonde comes crashing into my chest. On instinct I want to block Miles, but when I realise it’s Emery, I grab onto his shoulders and try to drag him to a stop. He barely halts, almost fighting me off which is a complete shock.