Page 109 of Fallen Rook

Matt.

I was the Band-Aid.

But I’d gladly be one. The patch that stands out. The plug that stops the stream.

For him, I’d be a cheap substitute.

For him, I’d be anything he needed me to be.

I kissed every inch of him like he did to me in Lake George, until finally he yanked me up and muttered, “Too slow, too slow,” grabbing my ass and hoisting me on top of him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and gripped the back of his neck, crashing my mouth against his. The position was awkward, since I had a couple inches on him, but I let him carry me to his bedroom and lay me down. The rest of our clothes came off. He pressed his dick against my own, sprawled on top of me missionary style. He reached for the nightstand, opened the drawer, pumped one squirt of lube into his fist, and seized both our dicks, jerking us off sensually while feeding me his demanding tongue, one arm bracing above my shoulder.

I craned my neck, watching his masculine fist, his short, square nails, his constricting abs as he got us off. My entire body was on fire, a heap of over-aroused limbs trying to claw him closer to me, even when no room was left between us.

“Fffuck me, Tom.” I clung to his neck, my balls engorged and heavy, my cock purple and angry, sensitive to the briefest touch.

He pushed up and squirted out more lube, slowly stroking himself up and down. He shoved two fingers into his mouth, sucked them wet, then pushed my thighs apart, playing with my entrance, stretching me. I squirmed and arched, desperate whimpers escaping my traitorous lips.

“Fuck yes. Just like that. Curl those fingers, baby. You’re hitting the spot.”

My cock began to leak precum. The thick, white-ish liquid spread between the grooves of my abs. Tom leaned down to lick it as he continued prepping me.

“Do it,” I moaned.

“Do what?” he teased.

“Fuck me.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, sir, fuck me. Thank you.”

Tom took his fingers out and slid into me, never breaking eye contact, his face slick with sweat that made his normally tidy haircut rakishly disheveled. Once he was fully sheathed inside me, he moved slowly, painstakingly so, gliding in and out while thumbing away locks of hair from my face.

It was intimate and quiet and sexy as hell, and I wanted to know if this was how he’d done it with Matt. In a way that felt domestic and tender and…and real. It felt real, and I couldn’t shake the fear that once I’d tasted something so raw, I could no longer play pretend, even if I wanted to.

And I didn’t even want to.

“You’re so beautiful,” he croaked, the haunted look in his eyes gradually dissipating. “Do you know that?”

“I do know that.” I buried my fingers in the spilled ink of his hair, massaging, stroking, teasing. “I remind myself of that at least six times a day in front of the mirror.”

He let out a surprised snort, his smile lingering as our sweaty bodies fell into rhythm.

“Tomcat?”

“Butterfly.”

“I made you smile.”

He lowered his forehead to mine, still driving into me, our lips meeting in the dark, sharing much more than a kiss. A breath. A single, joined pulse.

A hot shiver rolled across my spine. He kissed me tenderly, as if to say, Yeah, you did.

“You never should’ve doubted me,” I said, pleasure raking over my entire body, the tingling first signs of orgasm spreading through my core. Even though I knew I could come hands-free, my cock was too painfully hard to ignore. I ran a hand over Tom’s sleek chest, borrowing his sweat and using it as a lubricant to pump myself.

“Never doubted you, kid.” He picked up his pace, his penetrating cobalt gaze scorching a path straight to my heart. “I just said whatever was needed to provoke you to come here.”

The words wrapped around us, and my cock jerked in my fist, a rush of heat running through its length.