Epilogue #2
I was used to controlling every muscle in my body, but now my own surrender was being drawn out of me increment by increment, my discipline peeling away in layers I couldn’t hold together.
His pace never faltered, his mouth working with a focused patience that stripped my thoughts down to sensation alone, and every time his fingers pressed into that knot inside me I lost another degree of myself, until I was writhing, shuddering, half-feral and grinding helplessly into his face.
He pressed harder, scissoring three fingers, and I yelped at the sudden, overwhelming fullness.
Pip moaned, the sound vibrating straight up my cock, and I thought I might lose consciousness, my vision tunneling out to the honey-gold mess of his hair and the gleam of his collar as it dragged over my stomach.
Pressure built behind my eyes and balls and everywhere at once, until I was sweating and shaking, desperate for something I couldn’t even name.
He pulled off my cock with an obscene slurp and sat up, licking his lips, eyes blown wide and glittering with wicked delight. “You’re so fucking easy like this,” he purred. “Bet you could come just from my fingers.”
I started to snarl a retort, but then he pushed in deeper and crooked his fingers, and pleasure ripped through my body so violently that it stole all the air from my lungs. I arched off the bed with a strangled cry.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking sexy like this. The great Aeldryc, undone by my fingers.”
I glared at him, needy and trembling, and promised revenge. He only grinned and withdrew his fingers, slick and glistening. Reaching for more oil, he stroked it along his cock until it gleamed in the lamplight.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded, drawing him down for a kiss that left us both breathless. “Please. Show me.”
He positioned himself at my entrance and pushed in slowly.
The stretch was intense, exquisite. Pip was relentless, pushing past my resistance with a low, greedy moan.
The head of his cock breached the ring of muscle, and every muscle in my body seized at once, my hands clawing the sheets, a sound tearing out of me before I could stop it—pain and pleasure so intimately tangled I was afraid I might sob.
He slowed, gentle now, one hand stroking my hip, the other steadying his cock as he inched forward. “God, you’re tight,” he breathed, awe and hunger warring in his face. “You feel so fucking good, Aeldryc.”
The words, the way my name sounded wrecked and reverent in his mouth, undid something deep in me.
I let out a noise I’d never made before—high and shameless—and Pip shuddered, burying himself the rest of the way.
The fullness hit me like a held breath finally forced out, my whole body going rigid and then slack, a ringing in my ears, my jaw, the soles of my feet.
I thrashed, too full, too raw, but then he stilled, leaning down to kiss the sweat from my temple.
“I love you, baby. You’re taking me so well,” he whispered.
The heat of him, the pulse and twitch of his cock inside me, was obscene, overwhelming, and so perfect I wanted to die and burn apart and come all over his cock.
He started moving, small, rocking thrusts, and the friction grew hotter and better, the pain ebbing into a deep, throbbing ache that made my head spin.
Every time the head of his cock dragged against my prostate, my cock jolted, I let out a soft, breathy whimper.
I was leaking a steady stream of pre-cum now, making a mess of myself as he fucked me.
“Your cock feels so good,” I groaned. “Fuck me harder.”
Pip began to move faster, each thrust deliberate, his eyes scanning my face, searching for any sign of discomfort. I grabbed his ass, drawing him deeper, my back arching so he could hit me at the perfect angle.
He drizzled oil over my cock, stroking it in long, slick slides of his palm as he fucked me. “Oh fuck, I won’t be able to hold on.”
He was incoherent now, rutting harder, losing the rhythm of his hips and just pounding into me with wild, desperate little sobs.
The slap of our bodies, the wet glide of lube and sweat, the heavy, metallic backbeat of the candelabra vibrating above us—every sense was tuned to him, to the boy I’d never meant to love and now could never live without.
Pip was fucking me so hard I thought I’d shatter, until both of us were trembling on the edge of something vicious and beautiful.
He slammed in deep, grinding his hips against my ass, and the tip of his cock hit that spot again, sending an electric shock through my spine, making the sconce on the wall vibrate so hard it went clattering to the ground.
I cried out, the sound torn from somewhere animal, and he echoed it, a hoarse, needy whine.
“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna—don’t want—”
He pulled out, his whole body shaking with his determination not to come. Of course. My boy loved being pumped full of my cum. Gently, I eased Pip back, gently squeezing his cock, stopping him just on the edge of orgasm. He let out a rough sob.
“Sorry, baby, I really wanted you to… I just really need your cum,” he whispered, eyes wide.
I leaned down and kissed him. “You felt so good inside me, but I need to come inside my husband. So that works.” I shoved him down, spreading his legs, and slotted myself between his thighs.
The want in his blue eyes was delirious, his cock red and leaking against his stomach, his legs splayed shamelessly.
He made a broken sound when I gripped his hips and yanked him closer, lining myself up with that greedy, pulsing hole.
“You want to be the little slut now, Pippin?”
He met my eyes, his whole body quivering as iron sang all around us. “Yes please. Oh fuck, I love you so much.”
I drove in, hard enough to shove him up the mattress, all the way to the hilt in one brutal thrust. He screamed, head thrown back, hands clutching at the sheets.
He was so slick and open from my fingers that he took me, took all of me, and I saw the way his eyes rolled back in pure, blinding pleasure.
I didn’t give him a chance to adjust. I started to fuck him, brutal and deep, the way I did when I needed to feel him split open around me. Each slam of my hips sent shudders through his whole body, and the little noises spilling from his lips were so obscene I thought I’d never get enough of them.
“God, yes,” he gasped. “You’re so deep—oh—harder—”
I bent over him, pinning his wrists to the bed above his head, and slammed into him again.
His ass gripped me like a vice, milking every inch as I pounded into him.
Every time I bottomed out, I could see him almost black out with ecstasy.
His cock leaked, untouched, smearing his belly and the sheets with pre-cum.
“You’re mine,” I hissed in his ear. “My slut.”
He sobbed, wild with it, and ground his hips up to meet my every stroke. “Yours. All yours. And you’re fucking mine.”
I fucked him until he was half-insensible, then flipped him over and hauled his hips up, rutting into him doggy-style while his arms gave out and his face mashed into the sheets. I reached around to fist his cock, stroking it in time with my thrusts, and felt him jerk and clench, right on the edge.
I gripped his hair, pulling his head back so I could growl in his ear. “Come for me, Pip. I want to feel you squeeze around my cock while you make a mess of yourself.”
His whole body went taut, back arching as he screamed through his orgasm.
He pulsed in my hand, spilling across the sheets, and his ass clamped so tight around my cock that I couldn’t hold back any longer.
With a shuddering groan, I fucked him through his orgasm, the world narrowing to nothing but the heat and clutch of his body, the sound of our mingled cries.
I slammed in one last time, buried to the root, and came with a violence I’d never known with anyone but him, stars behind my eyes, the metallic whine of every piece of metal in the building reaching resonance, the smell of sweat and sex, the perfect, filthy feel of my husband underneath me.
We collapsed together, tangled and sticky and shaking. I held him against my body, breathing hard.
“So, you’re into flip fucking?” he asked.
“If that’s what we just did, then yes,” I said, flopping back and hauling him on top of me. “But I suppose I’m into just about everything with you.”
“Mm. I love you so much, baby. Thanks for the honeymoon.” He snuggled close, messy and drowsy and adorable, his hand curled across my chest, his legs thrown over my hips, settling against me the way a sword settles into a scabbard worn to its exact shape.
I laid a hand on his cute little ass and smiled. “So, I noticed Sky wasn’t wearing shorts.”
His head shot up and he glared down at me. “Don’t you dare imply that I was making the whole shorts cultural thing up.”
“I would never.” I kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m far too fond of seeing that cute ass of yours in them.”