Chapter Thirteen Perfect For Me #2
Aaron gave him the ghost of a smile. Then used the back of Kenny’s hand to wipe his eyes. “Liar.”
Kenny glanced at him, one hand steady on the wheel as he navigated the dark winding roads. “Want me to prove it?”
Aaron sniffed. “Yeah.”
“Then give me my hand back so I can get us home and do exactly that.”
Aaron let go. And Kenny brushed his knuckles across Aaron’s cheek before returning his hand to the wheel.
The rest of the drive passed in quiet.
Once home, Aaron stepped out with Chaos and hovered by the door as if waiting to be told what to do. Kenny unlocked the house. Chaos padded inside, tail swishing, and Kenny led him to the kitchen. He fed him, scratched behind his ears, scattered a few treats, then gently shut the door behind him.
When he turned, Aaron was still in the hallway.
Still in his coat. Clutching that tightness in his chest. Kenny stepped out of his coat, hung it up, and moved to Aaron.
One slow step at a time. He reached for Aaron’s scarf.
Unwrapped it. Let it fall. Then his coat, unzipping it down to the ridiculous red jumper beneath.
He paused, gave Aaron the chance to step back, to say the word, to disappear if he needed.
Grinch. Grinch. He’d honour it without hesitation.
But Aaron didn’t.
He looked up at Kenny with something that wasn’t quite fear, wasn’t quite need. But rawness. Begging to be held without breaking. Kenny cupped his jaw.
“If you don’t want me tonight, that’s okay. If you need clothes on, no touch, quiet, I’ll give you that. If you want nothing but a place to fall, you’ve got it. You’re in control.”
Aaron stared at him.
Then he yanked the jumper off, tossed it to the floor, and surged up to kiss him. Deep. Hungry. Full of need and not asking for permission because he didn’t have to.
“Take me out of my head, lover,” Aaron breathed.
Kenny gripped Aaron’s hips, forehead brushing Aaron’s. “Don’t want you out of your head. I want you. All of you. Right here, with me. However you come.”
Aaron huffed a shaky breath. “Will I come?”
Kenny smiled. “Many, many times.”
Aaron swallowed hard.
“But if it’s too much—”
Aaron kissed him again. Harder. Fiercer. As if the only way to stay grounded was to press himself deeper into Kenny. There were no more words. Only heat. Ache. That rising, helpless want to come apart in the hands of the only man who had ever known how to hold him together.
So Kenny guided him upstairs.
He took Aaron to the bathroom first. Peeled off his clothes.
His own followed, and they stepped into the shower.
Kenny adjusted the water until it was warm enough to melt.
Then he washed him. Not in the way lovers often did, not to seduce or to arouse.
But to honour. To tend to the bruises left behind by the day with kisses barely touching but landing deep.
“You’re safe,” Kenny whispered. “You’re mine.”
After, Kenny dried them both, then took Aaron’s hand and led him into the bedroom. Aaron paused in the doorway and the breath he drew in wasn’t sharp. It was weighted. Heavy with realisation.
Because Kenny had made the room ready.
Dozens of LED tea lights flickered in shallow dishes and mason jars across the shelves and on the windowsill.
Warm gold light painted the walls, softening every hard edge.
Kenny had already turned the duvet down, the sheets beneath fresh and folded.
A bottle of water waited on the nightstand beside a rolled towel, two energy drinks, a dish of sliced apple, and a tin of balm Kenny always used when Aaron’s body needed tending.
A bowl beside the bed was filled with clean cloths.
A bottle of almond oil. Lube warming in a ceramic dish.
But he’d made sure none of it looked clinical. None of it looked like prep.
Because it was care.
Aaron took another step inside.
Kenny reached for him again, thumb grazing the hollow of his throat. “You don’t have to give me anything tonight,” he said, voice low, anchoring. “You already have. This is for you. All of it. I’m here. Stay with me.”
Aaron swallowed. Nodded.
“Lie down.”
He obeyed. No teasing smirk. No pushback.
Stripped obedience. Trust laid bare on cotton sheets.
And he was already hard, cock flushed and heavy against his stomach, but he didn’t touch it.
He wouldn’t. Not after days of being denied, drawn out, undone.
Kenny had trained him into that restraint.
Gently. Patiently. Thoroughly. And now he held it like a secret between his clenched fists and the bedspread.
Kenny looked at him for a while longer. Drank in the shape of him.
The tension in his thighs. The way his chest rose, shallow and eager, as if already close and not knowing how to ask for more.
So Kenny crawled onto the bed and kissed him.
Everywhere but there. Worshipping. He licked the ridge of Aaron’s hip, sucked at the sensitive skin beneath his ribs.
Kissed the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. Tugged his nipple ring with enough teeth to make Aaron curse.
Aaron arched, raking his fingers through Kenny’s hair, and opening his mouth in a breathless gasp that Kenny swallowed with a languid kiss. He pushed his tongue past lips slick with want, then broke it off with purpose to grab Aaron’s wrists, pinning them to the bed behind his head.
“You don’t touch.” He held his gaze. “These hands stay right here. Understand?”
Aaron darted his tongue across his lips, and he swallowed hard. But he nodded. Kenny hummed. There’d be no rope here. Aaron would hold himself still for one reason only.
Because Kenny demanded it.
So he released his grip. And Aaron… lay there. Spreading himself out for Kenny to do as he pleased. Surrendered. Submitted. Entirely. And with that gratification coiling low in Kenny’s belly, he descended again, trailing his mouth lower, not to tease, but to build. To break Aaron down slowly.
He didn’t go for his cock right away.
Instead, Kenny traced a ruinous path towards it.
He kissed along Aaron’s stomach, nipped the inside of his thigh, dragged his tongue in obscene patterns, leaving Aaron shivering.
Every breath thick, every nerve alive with anticipation and denial.
Every minute before contact was as important as the act itself.
Kenny hovered, ghosting his lips over Aaron’s leaking cockhead. Aaron arched in desperate offering.
“Who do you belong to?” Kenny asked, voice low.
Aaron trembled, chin tucked, eyes blazing. But he said it, steady and sure. “You.”
Satisfaction coiled hot in Kenny’s chest. “Good boy.” He then closed his mouth over the base of him, and Aaron nearly sobbed at the heat. Hard. Flushed. Leaking. Every drop of want pouring into Kenny’s keeping.
Still, he didn’t rush. He licked a flat line up the shaft, resolute, measured. And Aaron whimpered. He jerked his hips, instinct betraying him, so Kenny spread his fingers wide across his hips, locking him down.
“Don’t,” he rasped, velvet wrapped around steel. “Stay still. Let me take you there. Let me give you what you’ve earned by being patient for me.”
Finally, Kenny swallowed him down. Leisurely. Inch by inch. Heat and suction wound tight with every drag, every second another fray pulled loose in Aaron’s restraint.
Aaron gasped, arched his back, clutching the sheets in balled fists. Kenny knew every instinct screamed for faster. Harder. For release. But Kenny gave him only control, and the molten pull of his mouth. The patience of a man who knew exactly how to undo him.
He then drew off to utter, “That’s it. Good boy. Taking everything I give you. No one else gets this.” He licked into Aaron’s slit, seizing the taste of him. “Only me.”
Kenny then flattened his palms along Aaron’s thighs, keeping him down, and Aaron’s broken, breathless plea of, “Fuck… Kenny…” lit something ravenous in him.
He worked him again, sucking hard, throat open, then pulled back just as Aaron’s body stuttered towards climax.
“Stay.” He pinned him down again. “Stay. Right here. That’s it. Good.” He then hovered, watching Aaron’s cock twitch and leak, watching his chest rise and fall in shallow, obedient gasps. “God, you’re so good when you listen to me. So fucking good. Breathe, baby.”
Aaron exhaled, forming his lips into an oh to breathe through the trembles.
“Well done,” Kenny praised, soft but cutting deep. “Hold on. I’ll get you there.”
And after that torturous wait, he swallowed him whole, throat working, lips sealed.
He took everything, savoured every ragged breath, every tremor, every helpless scrabble at the pillows as Aaron fought the need to touch.
Kenny’s hunger sharpened. This was worship.
Aaron’s body unravelling in his hands, trust laid bare in restraint.
Aaron broke with a guttural cry. “Kenny…fuck, Kenny!”
He came hard into Kenny’s mouth, body seizing, legs trembling, hips convulsing helplessly. Kenny eased off, letting him breathe, letting the edge peel away like fog, then lapped up every drop. He pressed a kiss to his thigh, before swallowing him down again.
Aaron lifted his head, dazed. “Ken… what—?”
Kenny didn’t answer. He sucked him back to life, eyes locked on Aaron’s, testing him, pushing him, worshipping him. Each kiss, each pull carried a truth Aaron couldn’t escape: Kenny would never stop. Not until Aaron gave him everything.
And Aaron whimpered, a half-sob caught in his throat.
It was too much, Kenny knew that. But he didn’t want it to stop.
He arched instead. Into the heat of Kenny’s mouth, into the drag of his tongue, the precision of his pressure.
Let himself be led, again and again, back towards that unbearable edge.
Overwrought. Overexposed. But pliant. Willing.
Raw in the way only trust could allow.
Exactly how Kenny needed him.