Chapter Four
August
Okay. I knew where my prostate was. Knew how good it felt to touch it.
But having Julian do it brought my pleasure to a whole new level.
I could gaze into his gorgeous eyes forever, but I wanted more.
My body demanded it as my cock plumped into a nice semi.
I usually needed a decent refractory period, but just the thought of Julian inside me had my engines revving.
He withdrew his fingers, and I whimpered.
As he sheathed his cock, though, an apprehension rippled through me.
I had toys.
In my mid-twenties, when I acknowledged I’d never act on my impulses toward men—especially not my employee who I daydreamed about all the time—I went into Vancouver and found a sex shop that catered to men like myself.
I’d gone back a couple of times over the years and now had an impressive collection that I kept hidden in a box at the top of my walk-in closet—somewhere my petite sister could never reach.
Not that she’d be nosy enough to do it.
Not that she’d ever do it now.
I ruthlessly shoved the flash of pain at her death back into the depths of my soul. I was about to get fucked. By Julian. I could deal with my anguish at her loss later.
“Are you…?”
“Fine. Just fine.”
I eyed his cock, now covered in the condom. “Now would be nice.”
He grinned.
Happy was Julian’s perpetual state of being. He was never without a quick quip, witty remark, or outright bawdy joke. Even after his beloved grandmother passed last year, he still relayed only fond remembrances of her. If he hurt, he did so in private.
“Okay. Grab your knees again.”
I complied, pulling them out of the way and putting myself on full display for him.
His smile was a mile wide, and he flashed me a glimpse of those perfect teeth before he leaned forward. “This might hurt.”
“I don’t care.”
I really didn’t. If it meant having what I’d wished for—waited for—all these years, I’d take it.
“Well, you’ve been warned.”
He winked as he lined himself up, then pressed in slowly. He levered himself above me, leaning on his elbows as he continued to slide in.
And it did hurt. But not unbearably so. The slow burn built, but then slowly receded as time passed. He seated himself fully, then he held himself still as I acclimated to the intrusion. I’d wanted this, and I had zero regrets.
Sweat broke out across his brow and I wiped it.
Our gazes clashed, and I nodded.
He nodded back and began to move. He pulled back a bit, then pushed back in.
I felt the slide. The pressure. The ache. All of it built in me as he continued to pull out almost all the way and push back inside.
He was holding back for me. “Fuck me, Julian. Please. Make me forget.”
The extent I was going to acknowledge anything other than the feel of him inside me.
“Okay.”
His thrusts became more insistent.
My cock perked up.
As he continued to nail me, he whispered, “Jack yourself. I want you to come again.”
So, apparently, did my body. I smeared a bit of precum on my length and grasped my cock. I matched his rhythm stroke for stroke as I climbed higher and higher. I wanted to make this good for him, but holding on—holding out—felt impossible.
“Come.”
He spoke through gritted teeth. “It’s okay to let go.”
Letting go felt overwhelmingly impossible and absolutely necessary. So I did just that. I gave in and let the orgasm crash over me. I arched my neck and flung my head back as I let oblivion take over.
Julian thrust several more times, let out a few more oaths, and then he stilled.
I gazed up into his eyes as they blazed fire.
I caught my breath.
My life would never be the same.