Chapter 30
GERALD
When Alaric returns from the quickest lube dash ever, I’ve not shifted an inch.
From the expression on his face, viewed back to front through the mirror, he’s as staggered as me.
Facing away from the door with your arse hanging out and harsh bathroom spotlights lasering down from above is a haltingly vulnerable position.
But there’s something about this man that makes me want things I didn’t even recognise I was missing.
Being fucked by him is only one of them and I didn’t appreciate how much that had occupied my thoughts until he’d fooled around behind me as I stacked the dishwasher.
I’ve never been comfortable enough to open up either my mind or my body with anyone else.
Planting a second kiss between my shoulder blades, Alaric settles behind me once more. He pushes my pyjamas down and taps my thigh to get me to step out of them before nudging my knees more apart.
I flinch at the crackling of the condom packet and, when the snap and stretch of latex follows, grip the sink even harder. Even picturing Alaric rolling it over his pretty erection doesn’t help.
“Your knuckles are white,” he observes and circles my waist, so I’m pressed up against him. “Am I the only one you’ve ever done this with?”
“Yeah,” I confirm, my throat dry. “The others were all nines and tens.”
“Fucker. No pressure, then.” Chuckling softly, he snuggles his cheek against my back. “But seriously?”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I’ve never. I… I guess I get typecast too.”
“Okay but why now? Why me? Why now at the grown- up age of thirty-four do you want me and my pencil dick to pop this particular cherry? ‘Cos I need to warn you, I’m way more experienced the other way around.”
“Because I trust you.” Alaric’s blue eyes track me in the mirror as he takes that on board. Because I love you, I stop myself from adding in the nick of time. Thankfully, the sudden undeniable truth of it steals my breath. “I know you won’t screw it up,” I say instead. “You’re a grown up, too.”
Doing what he does best, Alaric patches the moment with noise.
“Super grown up. And super trustworthy. I’m not saying you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
Elsa’s pushing six, which in doggy years is over forty, and she’s learned a doggy version of the can-can so…
and I can’t blame you for waiting for an expert urologist to come along and be your first time.
Mine was a scrawny student from Chelmsford. He—”
“Alaric.” I only need to say it once in that tone for him to instantly quieten. “Babe. I love your stories, but be a good boy and get on with it?”
“Um… yeah, okay.”
Still holding me tightly against him, he taps a slippery lubed finger against my pucker a couple of times, probing at the resistance.
“Just doing a mic check.” He snorts a nervous laugh.
Astonishingly, we’re both still hard. “Has anyone ever done this?” I tense as the first knuckle slips inside. “Has someone ever touched you here?”
“No.” The word comes out on a low groan. “Fuck, nor there.” He sinks deeper, effortlessly locating my prostate. “Shit, that’s—“
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“You’re… already you’re hitting my…yeah.”
His lips are hot against my ear. “Don’t want to brag, Big G, but a bloke’s internal anatomy is kind of the day job. I’d be a fool if I didn’t transfer a few of my professional skills into a more private arena.”
My dick is a mite softer than before, so he goes slow, bringing it back to life with his hand whilst his fingers open me up. He takes his time.
“You don’t have to be so gentle.”
“Sure I do. I want to do it right.” He huffs a laugh. “And also, because you edge me to fuck, and this is payback.”
Bugger. “Sounds like someone’s angling for another spanking.”
“Maybe.”
“But I’m not a Reformation tea set.” Alaric recoats his fingers in lube for, like, the fifteenth time.
If he doesn’t make his move soon, we’ll run out.
Or I’ll come, because what he’s doing with my prostate is an exquisite form of torture.
“You don’t need to handle me like I’ll shatter in a light breeze. ”
“Yes I do. You’ve waited years before trying.
I want to make this amazing for you. When you’re with your forever man, I want you to remember the evening you made friends with your dad as the night you also got fucked to high heaven by Alaric Alvin.
Not that it was just okay, not technically acceptable, but awesome—like, ‘tell your friends about it’ awesome.
‘Tell your colleagues about it’ awesome. ”
I shake my head. “It already is awesome, babe.” And I want you to work out that I’ve fallen in love with you, so I don’t have to say the words and you don’t have to explain I’m not what you want. “Now for pity’s sake, fuck me.”
I anticipate him entering me as painstakingly as he preps me, so when it finally happens, in one rough push and slide, I yelp, caught unawares.
“Jeez,” Alaric gasps at the same time. “Fuck.”
“Don’t move,” I tag on, wincing. “Shit. Alaric.”
“OMG, I’ve hurt you.”
“No, you haven’t,” I insist through gritted teeth.
“Just give me a…” Something gives, maybe he changes angle or maybe I relax my muscles.
But my surprised, pained yelp turns into a shuddering moan as he entirely ignores my request to stay still and instigates a couple of experimental thrusts.
I guess he’s a brat when he’s on top, too.
“Could get used to having you like this,” he pants, confirming. I choke on a breath as he drives in a bit harder. “Fuck, you’re tight. My record is about a minute and a half. I think we’re on track to smash it…fuck. Yeah, like that, Big G. Push back.”
He rocks himself in and out of me, gathering pace. The sensation is so intense it feels as if his dick’s rubbing up against my heart not merely my arse.
“Ready for more?”
“Yeah.”
I can hear the grin in his voice. “Then brace yourself.”
He grips my hips, adjusts his position and starts slamming into me.
Suddenly I’m no longer a passive recipient clinging to the edge of the washbasin, I’m writing the script alongside Alaric, standing firm and arching back, reaching around to grab his hand and putting it on my dick.
My orgasm doesn’t give me much warning, one second he’s rammed up against my prostate, balls slapping against mine, the next he’s swearing blue murder and I need to come.
It’s the drawn out, desperate groan he makes that tips me over.
My arse clinches around him as I spill into his hand; before I’ve finished he pulls out and rips off the condom.
A second later, hot jets spatter my skin.
White enamel fills my vision as I clutch onto the cold hard sink.
When I finally gather myself, Alaric is still pressed against me.
“You came all over my back.” I twist around to look at him, rumpled, flushed and bloody pleased with himself. I almost tell him he’s been a good boy, just to see him flush even more.
“Yep. I’ll try and make it last a bit longer next time.
” He takes a second to step back and admire his handiwork, running his finger through it and spreading it about even more, just to hear one of my despairing sighs.
“Streakier than a plasterer’s radio.” He snuggles against me again, mess and all.
“I knew you’d fucking top from the bottom, Gerald.
That was awesome. I want to do it all over again, already. ”
“Maybe…um…” I peel him off me and straighten. My eyes water. Sitting all day at work tomorrow might be interesting. “Give me a few minutes?”
My shower stall is barely big enough for one, never mind two.
Alaric insists we step inside together like we’re in a movie, all steamy and sensual.
Within seconds reality hits: one barely functional water stream and two grown men.
One of whom is much more grown than the other; I shield him from the spray like a palm tree.
He might as well have brought an umbrella into the shower.
“Feel any different, now you’ve been over to the dark side?” He’s doing his best not to look too proud, as if he’s cradling a secret little gold rosette of his own against his chest. But he knows his performance was slick, albeit brief. I came almost untouched.
“I feel like my insides have been rearranged, if that’s what you mean.” Clasping his face between my palms, I slant his head up to kiss his lips. Tiny water droplets cling stubbornly to his lashes. “I loved it,” I whisper. “Good sexing, Dr Alvin. I loved it. And I love—yeah.”
A jet of water finds its way through my fronds, flooding his face. The kiss is slippery and slidey; I imagine it’s how kissing a seal might feel. When Alaric splutters, I change the angle to shelter his face. The water bounces off his shoulder instead. He beams his thanks and kisses me even more.
I love him. I don’t want him to leave. Ever.
I pull away, needing the distance. “Awesome like ‘tell your colleagues about it’ awesome?” Shaking my head, I elbow him in the ribs on the way to rinsing my hair. “Have you met my colleagues?”
“Not yet. But I will if you invite me as your plus one to the work’s Christmas party. Then I can brag about it myself.”
I cuddle into him, arms around his waist as he soaps my back, starting at the top and not stopping until every dip and every hollow between my neck and knees are thoroughly clean.
Perhaps if I don’t let go, he’ll notice this is me saying I’m here, I’m yours, I want you to stay.
I love you. Or I could just come out and say it.
But I don’t, because as much as I’d like it to be otherwise, Alaric doesn’t love me back.