EIGHT #2
I sit up just enough to yank his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind me.
His chest is just as perfect as I remember — broad, muscular, with a light dusting of hair trailing down below his navel.
I lean down, my lips pressing against his chest before I bite down hard.
He hisses, his back arching off the bed, but he doesn’t tell me to stop.
Instead, his hands tangle in my hair, holding me to him.
“What was it you said on the phone, about marking you?” I murmur, then nibble the spot I just marked.
“Fuck, yes,” he breathes, his voice shaking.
I grin against his skin before moving lower, my teeth scraping over his nipple. He gasps, his cock straining against his joggers, and I can’t resist palming him through the fabric, squeezing just enough to make him whimper. “Already this hard for me?” I tease, my fingers tracing the outline.
The answer is a broken moan as his hips buck up into my touch. I chuckle, my hand sliding down to cup his balls through his joggers, rolling them gently before giving them a firm squeeze. His breath stutters, his body tensing under me. “Ari, please—”
“Please, what?” I ask, my voice dripping with false innocence. I know exactly what he wants, and I can feel how badly he wants it. My cock throbs; the pre-cum already dampening the front of my pants.
Caiden grips his waistband, fumbling with the drawstring, but I bat his hands away. “Uh-uh,” I tut, my fingers hooking into the fabric. “That’s mine.”
I drag them down his legs slowly, my eyes locked on his body as I expose him inch by inch.
His cock is thick, and the tip is already dripping with pre-cum.
I lick my lips, my mouth watering at the sight.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I murmur, my hand wrapping around his shaft, stroking him from base to tip.
His hips jerk, and a broken sound escapes his throat.
I don’t give him time to think. I slide down his body, my tongue swiping over his head, tasting the salty sweetness of his pre-cum. He groans, his fingers tangling in my hair, but I pull back before he can push me further. “Not yet,” I say, my voice rough. “I want you to beg for it.”
His eyes flash with frustration, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he spreads his legs wider, his cock twitching as I trail my fingers down his inner thigh. “Then make me,” he challenges, his voice a low growl.
I smirk. “Oh, my detka wants to play? Fine.”
I flip him onto his stomach before he has the chance to react, my hand pressing between his shoulder blades to keep him down.
He gasps as I lift his ass in the air, and I take a second to look at him—the way his muscles flex, the way his hole is already twitching, as if it’s begging me to fill it.
I spit into my palm before rubbing it between his cheeks, my fingers teasing his hole.
“Ari—” he starts, but the word turns into a moan as I press a finger inside him, knuckle-deep. He’s tight; his muscles clench around me like he’s trying to keep me in.
“You missed this, didn’t you?” I murmur, my free hand sliding up his back, my nails digging in just enough to leave marks. “Missed me stretching you open, making you take every inch.”
“Yes,” he hisses, pushing back against my finger. “Fuck, yes.”
I add a second finger, scissoring them inside him, stretching him open. He whimpers, his fingers clawing at the sheets, but he doesn’t tell me to stop. Instead, he spreads his legs wider, giving me better access. “More,” he demands, his voice raw. “I need more, please.”
I chuckle, my cock throbbing at his desperation.
I pull my fingers out, earning a frustrated groan from Caiden, but he doesn’t have time to complain.
I strip off my clothes in record time, grab the lube from the nightstand, and squirt a generous amount onto my palm before coating my cock.
He watches over his shoulder, his lips parted as he pants.
I line myself up, the head of my cock pressing against his hole, and then I push in — slow, inch by inch, letting him feel every ridge, every vein.
He groans, his body tensing as he takes me, but rather than pulling away, he pushes back and forces me deeper, dragging a guttural groan from my throat.
Caiden gasps, his head dropping forward onto the mattress as I bottom out. I give him a second, my thumb tracing circles on his hip, before I pull back and thrust in again — slow, deep, making sure he feels every fucking inch.
“Harder,” he gasps, his knuckles white where he’s gripping the sheets. “Fuck me harder, Ari.”
I growl, my control snapping, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, my hips snapping against his ass. I wrap my hand around his throat, dragging him backwards against my chest, his hands automatically bracing on the headboard for leverage, as I fuck him hard.
I groan, my cock twitching inside him as I tilt his head back so I can kiss him. Our tongues clash, messy and desperate, as I fuck him faster. He moans into my mouth, his cock dripping pre-cum onto the sheets below us.
My hand trails down his chest before wrapping around his cock. I stroke him hard at first, my thumb swiping over his head, spreading the pre-cum. “You’re gonna come for me?” I ask, my voice rough. “Gonna come all over my sheets like a good boy?”
“Yeah,” he whimpers, his body tensing. “Fuck, I’m so close—” I had planned to drag this out more and take my time. But being here with him right now, like this, after so long... there’s no chance of holding back.
I stroke him faster, my thrusts becoming erratic as my own orgasm builds quickly. “Come for me, detka.”
He pulses and twitches in my hand as his release spills over my fingers and onto the bed. His ass clenches and spasms around me. I moan his name repeatedly as my own orgasm hits me minutes later, burying my cock deep inside him as I fill him up.
I collapse onto his back, my breathing shaky as I try to recover. His body is still trembling under mine, his skin slick with sweat. I press a kiss to his shoulder before pulling out slowly, dragging one last whimper from him.
Caiden rolls onto his back, pulling me into him and putting his arm around me. “You came back,” I say again, tracing idle patterns on his chest.
“Yes.”
“For me.”
“That’s what I said,” he whispers. “I left because I had to. I came back because I chose to.”
“Monday is too close,” I say softly, shifting closer and nuzzling into his chest.
“I know, beautiful.”
“What happens after that?”
“Then we keep choosing, as long as we’re allowed.” The fire settles lower, popping softly. Caiden’s arm is still heavy across my back, and I let myself feel it for another few seconds before I tilt my head to look up at him properly.
He’s staring at the ceiling, jaw tight in that way it gets when he’s thinking too hard about something he hasn’t decided how to say yet. “There’s something you’re not asking,” I tell him.
He hums. “I’m thinking about how this works now.”
“I can’t leave,” I say, trying not to sound defensive. “I mean, not without it being noticed. I can’t just visit you in England,” I add. “This isn’t a train ride. It would look... suspicious.”
“I know,” he says in acknowledgement.
I turn my head to look at him, studying his face in the firelight. “Then what exactly do you think this looks like?”
His fingers flex once against my skin as he thinks about his response. “Well, I guess it looks like me coming back,” he says.
“That’s not really a plan,” I say, snorting softly.
“No,” he agrees. “It’s a decision. I decided that I refuse to lose you.”
I push myself up onto one elbow and he meets my eyes. “That’s a pretty speech,” I say in a teasing tone.
“I know,” he replies, grinning.
“So that’s how we do this?” I ask.
“You can’t come to me, I know that.” I nod in agreement. “So,” he continues, “that leaves one option, doesn’t it? Me coming back whenever I can.”
“You come to me, over and over again, like this?”
His mouth curves into a small smirk. “I will, as many times as it takes.”
“You know that means nothing changes on the surface,” I say. “No future plans or guarantees. No ‘see you next month.’”
“I’m not asking for guarantees.”
“Then what are you asking for?”
“Just you.” He shifts closer. “I chose this knowing it’s quiet. I know it’s limited right now, and it might be a while before anything looks different.”
“And you’re telling me,” I say slowly, “that you’d make that choice again?”
“I would.”
“Even if it stays like this for years?”
“Even then.”
“What if I can’t promise you when it will change?” I press.
“I’m not asking you to give me timescales, Ari,” he says. “I’m asking you not to tell me this isn’t worth choosing.”
I feel like my heart is about to explode in my chest. “We keep it quiet. We don’t get reckless. We don’t pretend this makes us untouchable.”
“Agreed.”
“And when you leave on Monday—”
“I’ll come back,” he says immediately.
I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t even know when.”
“Does that matter?” he asks, shrugging.
I study him then, this impossible man who crossed the world to say I choose you without demanding anything in return. “We play it by ear,” I say at last.
“You hate that,” he replies, smiling softly.
“Yes,” I say. “But I love you.” His hand tightens on my waist.
“You’d better. We’re not doing this forever. Just for as long as we have to.”
I rest my forehead against his. “Then,” I say quietly, “we survive it. Together.”
“Together,” he echoes.
Monday will come. So will duty and the rules. But so will Caiden — again and again — until the world finally gives us a reason to stop hiding. I finally close my eyes, and I feel chosen.
And for a man like me, that is the most dangerous thing of all.