Chapter 33
We stumble through the front door, clinging to each other with the same feverish need.
My hands tangle in his drenched hair, dragging him with me. He tastes just as phenomenal as when our lips met for the first time, but now there’s no fear of someone walking in, no eyes to judge what we want. What we need.
And what I need is him. From this day until I’m buried a few feet away from him.
His tongue twists with mine as my bare ass bumps against the dining table. He jerks me back, walking us down the short hallway toward the main bathroom. His hand grips my ass, pinning my hips to his, our cocks grinding together, pulling a moan straight from my throat.
I want to touch and taste every inch of him. The frantic edge in his movements tells me he feels the same.
He slaps the bathroom light switch so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t break. Then his arm locks around my waist, hauling me with him as he steps us into the shower.
The water blasts on, icy cold, shocking against my overheated skin.
“Fu—” I start, but he slams me against the tiled wall and devours my mouth instead.
My hands roam across his collarbone, down his chest, wrapping around his back. Every muscle under my fingertips radiates strength and power. He has always been that to me. And I’ve always been a desperate man for him, aching to touch what the world insisted I couldn’t have.
He should’ve never been forbidden to me. Keoni was meant to be mine, just as I was meant to be his.
Steam curls through the shower, but it isn’t that heat that sets me ablaze. It’s the sudden grip of his hand wrapping around my cock that rips a gasp from my throat.
He groans into my mouth. “So hard for me.”
I’m even beyond that; it’s nearly painful.
It feels as though I’m seconds from my release already.
I could’ve come just from the friction he caused getting us in here, and now—with his finger dragging along the underside of my length—I have to count backward in my head to stop myself from blowing too soon.
His other hand slides up, his thumb brushing over my parted lips before pressing down. “How I resisted you this long is criminal.” He leans in and bites across my jaw, tearing a moan from me.
I reach between us, wrapping my hand around the cock that’s been pressing into my stomach. The moment I feel him, I forget how to breathe.
Oh, fuck.
My head drops, grateful he releases my chin, so I can actually look. Not only is he thick and heavy in my hand—he’s pierced. A singular bar horizontally, right below the head.
“Just one for now,” he croons, dragging his thumb across the head of my cock, smearing precum down the vein, all the way to my balls. “If you like it, I’ll get more.”
On instinct, my tongue darts across my lips. I’ve never had a man inside me with one, and the thought of it has my pulse hammering.
“You like that?” he teases.
“Mhmm,” I hum, low in my throat.
He chuckles darkly. “Ayden? Being quiet? I’m going to have to change that.”
Michael hated when I made noise. Said it ruined the mood, that it sounded like I was faking it. News flash: I was.
But with Keo? Nothing about the noises I’ve made or will be making will be fake.
As though pulled by gravity, I sink lower. He lets me go, taking a small step back as I drop to my knees. My hand wraps around the thick base of him, bringing me face-to-head with the part of him I’ve been aching to taste.
He’s thick, and the veins along him have my mouth watering with the need to taste him. The only reason I hesitate is to take him in, because I want to etch every inch, every detail, into my brain before giving in to that hunger.
“Look at you,” he says, his voice low and sultry enough to drag goosebumps across my arms. I glance up just as his hand comes to the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair. “Admiring my cock like a good boy. Now, open that delicious mouth of yours for me.”
My dick twitches, eager, as I obey, parting my lips to welcome the defined head of his cock.
His groan hits immediately, deep and raw, the sound rumbling straight into my chest. I can’t help but moan around him, the vibration making his grip in my hair tighten.
But he doesn’t force me. He lets me set the pace, slipping him deeper, savoring the salt and the faint sweetness coating my tongue.
It only makes me crave more.
A strangled sound leaves him as I take him to the back of my throat. When I pull away, my tongue drags along the underside, flicking against the piercing before sliding him back in with a steady, hungry rhythm.
“Ah, fuck, Ayden.” Hearing my name break from his lips has my legs trembling beneath me.
I angle myself down slightly, so when I look up, I catch him staring at me. One arm braced against the wall, chest heaving, mouth parted in heavy breaths. When our eyes lock, he grins. There’s admiration, pride, in those ember depths.
I definitely have a praise kink, because my body zings with just that look.
Maybe that’s one reason why it was hell with my ex. He never gave me this. He was the opposite of what I craved, and I should’ve found a way to walk away sooner.
Keo doesn’t even need words. The smirk, the groans, the way he touches me—it’s all the worship I’ve ever wanted.
“Touch yourself.” His hand slides to the back of my neck, holding me steady as he drives deep into my throat. “But don’t come… fuuuck.”
The second my hand wraps around my cock, my eyes roll back. I stroke myself as he buries every inch inside me, my nose brushing the trimmed patch of hair at his base.
I can’t breathe, and the dizzy head-rush only makes my balls tighten harder with the need to release. I squeeze just under the head, desperate for control.
Air floods my lungs as he pulls me back.
I’m ready to dive back in, but instead he bends down and crashes his mouth to mine.
His hand circles my throat—not harsh, just enough pressure that when he straightens, he lifts me with him.
I push to my feet, and in one seamless movement, he swings us under the spray.
A strained sound leaves him—pained, maybe—but before I can ask, his hand closes around my cock. Then I feel his piercing dragging along the underside of me as he grips us together.
That groan of discomfort twists into a raw grunt of lust.
The sensation of our cocks sliding, pressing, jerking against each other, has me thrusting desperately into his fist. My skin feels electric, every nerve lit as I pant and lock my arms around his neck. I don’t dare pull him tighter, not when it might slow the perfect rhythm of his strokes.
“Don’t stop,” I moan.
“That’s it…” His voice is that same grumbly as when he wakes in the morning, causing a chill to run down my spine. “Tell me what you want.”
“I… I want to come. Please.”
His hand works us with perfect precision, and with every greedy thrust, that piercing drags across my sensitive vein. My jaw clenches on instinct, the old urge to bite back my sounds. But Keo groans against my mouth, reminding me silence is the last thing he wants.
“Come with my name on your tongue, Ayden. Don’t hold back. I want to fucking hear you.” His free hand tightens around my throat, tilting my head as his whisper brushes my ear, heavy with his own unraveling. “Come for me.”
“Fuck! Keoni, I’m—” My words collapse into a moan as my stomach knots tight, and I break, just like he ordered. “That’s it—please, please…”
My release tears through me, hot and relentless, spilling across my stomach in sync with his. His body shudders against mine, trembling with the same force as my own. Then his teeth sink into my shoulder, sharp enough to sting, and the pain makes the orgasm I’m still trembling from intensify.
He wastes no seconds and slides his hand up my stomach, gathering the mess before the water washes it away. When my haze finally clears, I watch him raise his cum-slicked fingers to his mouth. The sight alone has me biting the corner of my lip.
Catching my stare, he grips the back of my head and yanks me into him, crushing his mouth to mine. His tongue thrusts in as I open, and the moment I taste us on him, desperation rushes through me. I groan into him, sucking and biting, hungry for every last drop.
He chuckles, the sound vibrating my insides, and the sensation feels like possession itself.
“All fucking mine.” His amber eyes soften, shifting from raw lust to something that roots me in place. Nurturing. Passion. Need. That gentle glow has butterflies tearing through the place I’d thought was long dead.
My hands drift up his back, molding our bodies together. His fingers tangle in my hair, his arm wrapping protectively around my neck, as if anchoring me here with him.
Then he smiles, and it’s brilliant. It’s the kind of smile that makes me believe I’ll never be alone again.
Fucking Christ. It gives me life.
And knowing that I caused it? This look he gives me. I’ll become addicted to the high of it; I have no doubt.
“All mine,” I say just before he kisses me again. And again. And again.
For the first time in so long, I don’t feel hollow—I feel whole.