Chapter 16 Freddie #2
His gaze softens, but he bends down to nip at my lips, playfully. “Er, don’t forget you’re a finalist at the EUROs and a Premier League title winner.”
I reach up with one hand and hold his chin, firmly, until he looks at me. “The best,” I repeat. “Everything else pales by comparison. I mean it.”
Marlon looks at me with so much love I can’t bear it, saying more than I ever could have hoped for while staying completely silent. How I lucked out like this, how I got a man like Marlon to want me, I’ll never know.
But I do know I’ll never take him for granted, ever again.
I’ll never do anything to put this at risk.
Tears well in my eyes and okay, fuck, I’m not going to cry when my super hot boyfriend just offered me a blowjob.
“Lube,” I say, trying to sound determined instead of emotionally vulnerable, and either Marlon understands or he at least pretends to play along, because he vanishes for a moment and then hands me the goods.
“I love you,” he says. “Now prep me so you can fuck me until I forget how to speak.”
One last, shuddery exhale, trying to keep my composure and not blow my load the second his lips touch me. “Turn around, then.”
He does, presenting himself to me in all his milky-white, hairless glory, and I gorge myself on the view for a moment.
Then he licks the head of my cock and my eyes roll back for a heartbeat.
So I get a grip and somehow manage to open the lube despite my shaking hands, pouring liquid generously across my fingers and then entering him without any further caution.
One finger first, surrounded by tight heat and muscle.
I need to pause and breathe for my own benefit as much as for his, but I don’t wait very long and keep pushing, drawing guttural sounds out of him.
They vibrate around my cock and make thinking difficult, so I continue, adding a second finger right away.
He did say he wanted to be fucked hard and I have a feeling a bit of roughness is exactly what he needs. Marlon confirms it immediately with a full-body shiver and his hips pushing back onto my fingers while he keeps sucking.
For a second, I think back to the Marlon from all those months ago, shy and blushing and with no idea what he wanted.
It’s like he’s a different person now, and yet exactly the same.
Still my Marlon. I curl my fingers up and find his prostate; Marlon’s moan makes me glad he kicked Clara out.
She definitely would have heard. Hell, the neighbours can probably hear.
Not that I care.
Marlon feels so good, hot and tight and full of promise. I ease my fingers in and out, making sure to hit his prostate every time, trying not to pay too much attention to Marlon’s impressive blowjob skills or I will lose it immediately.
Finally, Marlon pops off my cock with a half-sigh, half-moan. “I’m ready.” His voice is throaty and rough and he throws a look over his shoulder, back at me, with dark eyes and pink, plushy lips.
“Fuck you’re beautiful.” I can’t help it, the words escape me without me realising they were on my tongue.
“God I can’t believe you’re mine. Love you.
Love you so much.” My fingers are slippery with lube and shaky with emotion and Marlon sits up and comes to my help, opening the condom package and rolling it over my shaft.
We both stare down at it for a heartbeat, then I look at Marlon. “How do you want me?”
He laughs a little and a hint of his earlier embarrassment creeps into his cheeks, rosy and wonderful. “In every way possible,” he admits quietly. “But maybe—can I sit on your lap?”
He’s going to kill me. It’s official. Marlon Rothe is going to kill me with his body and his mind and the way they combine into the perfect human being.
“Yes.” It’s barely audible, but I hastily sit up and scoot back against the bed’s headboard, corduroy rough against my back, helping to ground me in reality. “Come here.”
Marlon crawls towards me, closing the distance with easy grace I’ll never possess, then throws a leg over mine and straddles me, folding his hands behind my neck. “I know I said I want hard and rough,” he says as he lowers himself, carefully. “But maybe this is better. Okay?”
“Yes!” I say, incredulously. “Of course it’s okay, Mar, fuck, you couldn’t do anything not okay.” My cock slips inside him and I throw my head back, eyes closing instinctively as his heat slowly engulfs me.
When he bottoms out, we both breathe out at the same time, relief and amazement and overwhelm. I open my eyes again and we smile at each other, not moving, just enjoying. Savouring this moment I didn’t think would ever come. I never want to lose this closeness again.
“I love you,” I whisper and let my hands trail over his cheekbones, his nose, his mouth, his chin. “You are breathtaking.”
He smiles and kisses me, chastely. “I love you,” he says. “You make everything better.” He moves, a tiny circle, rocking his hips, still holding me, still looking at me.
“This is the best I’ve ever felt with another person.” I look at him, drinking in his face, hands slowly gliding down to his hips. “You are a marvel.”
“You make me feel safe and adventurous at the same time,” he retorts.
It should be cheesy, what we’re doing here.
Not even fucking, just…carefully, leisurely rocking against each other.
Exchanging compliments like the air we breathe.
But I can’t seem to care. I’m full to bursting with emotion and—a first for me—the sex is secondary.
I get to hold him, stroke him, finally tell him how I feel about him. That's the important part.
We lean forward into a slow, exploring, intense kiss, matching the soft movements of our bodies.
I’m not sure I can come like this, but it also doesn’t matter.
Who cares. We’ve got the rest of our lives for orgasms and I’m sure we’ll make good use of it.
But right now…I’m going to enjoy finally being able to hold him. For as long as I can.