Page 34 of For Pucking Ever

"Hey."

His voice, rough and groggy, floats into the kitchen.

I turn to see him standing in the doorway, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, sleep still in his eyes. Bare chest on display, tattoos on full lickable display. He's rubbing a hand over his head, watching me like he already knows something's wrong.

"You left the bed," he says, voice still scratchy.

I shrug, trying for casual. "Wasn't sleeping."

He crosses the space in a few steps and pulls me into his chest without asking. I melt into it, because even if everything else is chaos, this, him, feels like calm.

"You're thinking too loud again," he murmurs into my hair.

I exhale a shaky breath against his shoulder. "I can't stop."

"Then let me help you forget," he says softly, pressing a kiss to the side of my head.

Maybe I will. For a little longer. Even if the world is about to fall apart, for now, I have this. I have him.

Bast drops to his knees before me. Eyes lifted up to mine, waiting eagerly for me.

I look down at Bast, his gray eyes dark with hunger and intent, and I can't help but smirk. "Help me forget," I groan, anticipating the feel of his lips wrapped around my dick, the thought alone sending a shiver down my spine.

He holds my gaze as he slowly slides my boxers down to my ankles, his knuckles grazing my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He leans in, pressing his nose to my groin, inhaling deeply. "Parfait, Princesse," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. Perfect, Princess. The words, spoken in his native French, send a thrill through me, and my dick twitches in anticipation.

He reaches up, squeezing my balls in his large, calloused hand, pulling a moan from deep within my chest. "Please, Sebastian," I pant, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter behind me for support. I need this. I need him. Another distraction, a much-needed distraction from the chaos of my thoughts.

He looks up at me, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Oui, ma princesse, laisse-moi te faire du bien." Yes, my princess, let me make you feel good. With that promise, he takes the head of my dick between his lips, his tongue swirls around the sensitive flesh, and my hips buck involuntarily.

I let out a sharp hiss, my fingers find their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer but he doesn't gag, doesn't pull back. Instead, he swallows me down, taking me to the back of his throat, his mouth hot and wet and perfect.

"Fuck! Yes, Bast. Oh God." I shout, my voice echoing through the kitchen, filling the empty spaces with my pleasure. I grip the back of his neck tighter, my fingers tracing patterns in his closely cropped hair, holding him in place as I fuck his mouth. . .and he lets me. He lets me use him, lets me take what I need.

I get lost in the warmth of his mouth, in the sensation of his tongue sliding against my shaft, in the sight of this strong, capable man on his knees for me. It's a heady feeling, a powerful one. It makes me feel worshipped, honored even, like I'm something precious, something to be cherished, and in this moment, I believe it. I believe that I'm more than just a rookie goalie with an uncertain future. I'm more than just a kid from a single-parent home, more than just a man with quiet scars and hidden fears. I'm Derrick Shaw, and I'm worthy of this. Worthy of him.

My orgasm hits me hard and fast, a wave of pleasure crashing through me, leaving me breathless and shaking. I scream Bast's name, my voice hoarse and raw, as I cum down his throat. He takes it all, every last drop, like it's a gift. Like it's something to be savored.

As the last of my orgasm fades, Bast rises to his feet, his eyes never leaving mine. He steps closer, his body pressing against mine, his lips capturing mine in a fierce, possessive kiss. I taste myself on his tongue, salty and bitter, but I don't care. I kiss him back with everything I have, pouring all my fears, all my hopes, all my desires into this one, perfect moment.

When we finally pull apart, we're both breathless, our chests heaving, our hearts pounding in sync. Bast rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, his breath warm on my face.

"Better?" he asks, his voice a soft rumble.

I nod, a small smile playing on my lips. "Better," I confirm, and it's true. The chaos of my thoughts has quieted, the uncertainty of my future has faded, if only for a moment. All that matters is this. Him. Us.

As we stand there, our bodies pressed together, our hearts beating as one, I feel a pang of fear. Fear that this is all just a dream, a beautiful, perfect dream that will shatter as soon as I wake up. Fear that I'm falling too hard, too fast. Fear that I'm setting myself up for heartbreak.

The truth is, I'm falling in love with Sebastian Bergeron. I think I fell in love months ago, even though I fought hard to push it down deep. I'm falling in love with his grumpy demeanor and his hidden smiles. With his strong, capable hands and his gentle touch. With his quiet strength and his fierce protectiveness. I'm falling in love with every part of him, even the parts he tries to hide.

I'm terrified that he doesn't feel the same way. That this is just a fling for him, a way to pass the time until the real world comes crashing back in. That I'm just a distraction, a convenient body to warm his bed.

Even as the fear threatens to overwhelm me, I push it aside. For now, I have this. I have him. And that's enough. It has to be enough.

Bast pulls back, his eyes searching mine, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Come on," he says, taking my hand and leading me out of the kitchen. "Let's go back to bed."

I follow him because I can't resist. I want to spend every moment I can with him, even if it means ignoring the fears and uncertainties that lurk in the shadows of my mind. I'm in love with him, and I hope that maybe, just maybe, he's falling in love with me too.

As we climb back into bed, Bast pulls me into his arms, his body warm and solid against mine. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, letting the sound lull me into a sense of peace. As I drift off to sleep, I let those words run through my mine on repeat, the words that I'm too afraid to say out loud.