Chapter 4 #7
My hole clenched around him at the words, greedier with every stroke, pleasure building until I was barely more than sound and sensation.
Sweat dripped down his neck, his chest sliding against my calves as he leaned forward, changing the angle, hitting that spot deep inside that made my vision shatter, stars bursting behind my eyelids.
“Take it, Miles. Every inch, every drop. Want you dripping when I’m done, want you bred so deep you’ll taste me in your throat.”
The need was savage, untamed. My cock bounced against my stomach with every thrust, untouched and leaking, aching for release. The only thing that mattered was the drag of his cock, the weight of him inside, the fire that burned everywhere he touched.
A sudden shift sent the world spinning—Edward’s arms locked tight around my waist, hauling me up, flipping our positions.
My back hit the sheets, then I was straddling his hips, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him, chest heaving, sweat beading on my skin.
The stretch of his cock stayed constant, buried deep inside, thick and throbbing, pulsing with the echo of every filthy promise.
Fingers dug into my thighs, guiding me down, impaling myself on his length, the sensation so sharp, so full, it made my vision blur.
My hands planted against his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath my palm, the rise and fall of his ribs as he gasped for air, eyes dark and wild with hunger.
Edward’s voice dropped to a growl. “Ride me, sweetheart. Show me how desperate you are to be filled.” His grip was possessive, hands branding my flesh as I rose up, letting him nearly slip free, then slammed back down, driving him as deep as possible.
The angle forced me open, thighs burning, every nerve singing as I fucked myself on his cock, using him, claiming him, letting him claim me.
The slap of skin on skin, the slick slide of my body down his, the greedy sounds tumbling from both our throats—all of it built to a fever pitch, a feral rhythm of need and surrender.
Hands trailed up my torso, tracing sweat-slick lines, fingers brushing my nipples, pinching them until I cried out, the sensation shooting straight to my cock, still leaking, bobbing heavy and untouched against my belly.
Heat radiated from Edward’s skin, a furnace beneath me, the muscles of his stomach flexing as he arched up to meet every grind, fucking deeper, harder, never letting me take full control.
My head fell back, mouth open, moaning shamelessly, voice cracking on every thrust. “So full—can’t stop, need more, fuck—Edward, please—”
That dangerous smile flashed, hungry and proud, as he took me in, worshipped the way I split myself open for him.
One strong arm wrapped around my back, pulling me down, crushing my mouth to his, tongue plunging between my lips, tasting every filthy sound.
The other hand wrapped around my cock, thick fingers stroking from base to tip, slow at first, then faster, wringing gasps and curses from my lips as the pleasure doubled, tripled, until I couldn’t tell where pain ended and want began.
Teeth scraped my jaw, lips trailing down my neck, sucking bruises into my skin, marking me for anyone to see. Every bite sent sparks through my body, every mark another chain, binding me to him, the good boy who wanted nothing more than to be used and bred and owned.
Wet heat replaced his hand—his mouth found my cock, swallowing me deep, tongue swirling, lips sealing around the crown, the suction relentless.
The shock of it made me cry out, hips stuttering, fighting to fuck down onto his cock and up into his mouth at the same time, greedy for every inch of him, desperate to be filled and fed, destroyed and rebuilt.
My thighs trembled, sweat pouring down my body, mind going blank as Edward took me apart.
He sucked me down, tongue lashing the sensitive underside, humming low in his throat so the vibrations made my toes curl, my spine bow, pleasure white-hot and electric.
His free hand never stopped stroking, twisting at the head, teasing the slit, smearing precome everywhere, making me so wet I could barely breathe.
His cock throbbed inside me, swelling, so thick I could feel every pulse, every promise of what he was about to give. The thought of his cum deep inside, breeding me, marking me from the inside out, sent a shudder through my core, hole clenching tight around him, milking him, demanding more.
Groans vibrated against my cock as he swallowed me deeper, throat opening, letting me fuck his mouth, the pressure exquisite, almost cruel.
His tongue pressed behind the head, lips sliding up and down my shaft, throat working around the crown, so filthy, so needy, it made my eyes roll back in my head.
My fingers tangled in his silver hair, gripping hard, using the leverage to fuck myself deeper, to grind down harder, chasing that dizzy, desperate edge.
Every time my ass slammed down onto his cock, my cock slid deeper into his throat, spit pooling, dripping down my shaft, soaking his chin, messy and obscene.
The air filled with the wet, rhythmic slap of bodies, the ragged breaths, the praise and filth spilling from both our lips. “You’re taking it so well—so greedy, so perfect. Let daddy feel you milk his cock, ride it like you were made for this, like you need to be filled to the brim.”
A rough hand smacked my ass, heat blooming where skin met skin, making me clench around him, grind harder, fuck myself down until it felt like he was splitting me in half. Sweat dripped from my brow, stinging my eyes, but I didn’t care, didn’t want to stop, not until I was ruined, bred, leaking.
Teeth grazed the sensitive vein beneath my cock, tongue pressing flat, lapping up the spill of precome, swallowing every drop like it was the only thing that mattered.
“Taste so fucking good—want to swallow every last drop, want to feel you paint my throat while I pump you full, breed you so deep you’ll never forget. ”
The filthy words, the relentless suction, the pounding stretch inside me—they all crashed together, pleasure building, coiling tight at the base of my spine. My whole body shook, every muscle locking, every sense reduced to need and heat and the filthy joy of being claimed.
Climax ripped through me, stars bursting behind my eyes, cum spilling into his mouth, hot and thick, pulsing over his tongue as he swallowed greedily, not letting a single drop escape.
My hole clenched around his cock, milking him for everything, begging for his release, for the final act of surrender.
Edward roared beneath me, hands gripping my hips, slamming me down one last time, so deep it felt like he’d never leave. Hot spurts flooded my guts, wave after wave, thick and endless, heat blooming inside, leaking out around his cock, branding me from the inside out.
Warmth pooled low in my belly, aftershocks rolling through me as I slumped against Edward’s chest, boneless and wrecked, sweat cooling on my skin. His arms didn’t let go, not right away. He held me close, hands stroking my back, heart racing beneath my cheek.
Eventually, I managed to move—my body felt used in the best possible way, muscles trembling, legs shaky. As I slid off him, I felt his cum leaking from my hole, hot and sticky, slicking my thighs. Edward caught my hip before I could pull away completely.
“Wait,” he murmured, voice husky but fond.
I froze, flushed and exposed, but he just grinned up at me, eyes shining with mischief.
One big hand parted my cheeks, thumb swiping through the mess, admiring his handiwork.
Then his tongue replaced his thumb, licking a filthy stripe up my crease, savoring every drop he’d left inside me.
A groan slipped from my lips, too raw and sensitive to do anything but shiver. “You’re ridiculous,” I muttered, half laughing, half scandalized. “It’s like you’ve got a breeding fetish or something.”
He shot me a shameless, wolfish grin, lips glistening. “I could get used to seeing you like this—full and dripping, all fucked out.”
Rolling my eyes, I leaned down, pressed a rough, grateful kiss to his mouth, tasting myself and him, heat lingering even as exhaustion crept in. “Yeah, well, don’t get too attached,” I teased, trying for breezy even as my heart thudded a little too hard. “I still have my dignity to salvage.”
“Not sure there’s much left of that.” He patted my ass, then finally let go. “You look like you lost a fight with a tornado.”
Shuffling off the bed, I glanced at the devastation—sheets ruined, lube everywhere, my boxers torn to shreds on the floor. “That was my favorite pair,” I announced, pointing accusingly at the scraps. “Ripped right off me. What am I supposed to wear home now, huh?”
He laughed, deep and delighted. “You can borrow some of mine. Perk of the, uh, ‘special friends’ arrangement.”
I limped toward the bathroom, pausing to look over my shoulder. “Special friends, huh? Does your son know about your habit of seducing his rivals, or is that an exclusive club?”
A flush rose in his cheeks, but he smirked, unashamed. “Let’s keep this between us. No need to traumatize Derek—or give him even more reason to lose the contest.”
Turning the shower on, I let the hot water wash away sweat and cum and the last dregs of tension.
The ache between my legs was a wicked, satisfying throb, a reminder of everything I’d let happen, everything I’d wanted.
For a minute, I just stood there, letting the water run, not thinking, not feeling guilty, just—existing.
When I came out, a towel wrapped low on my hips, Edward was still sprawled on the bed, lazily watching me. He’d cleaned himself up a little, hair mussed, looking far too pleased with himself.
“Feel better?” he asked, gaze lingering at the marks he’d left on my neck and chest.
I shrugged, hiding a grin. “A little lighter. Guess that’s what happens when you let a silver fox destroy your dignity and your underwear in one go.”
He tossed me a pair of clean boxer briefs—navy blue, softer than anything I owned. “Try not to ruin these.”
Pulling them on, I sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, letting the afterglow settle. The silence stretched, not quite awkward, but there was a heaviness to it, the kind that comes when reality tries to sneak back in.
“So…” I started, the word dangling between us. “Are we going to talk about what just happened?”
Edward didn’t flinch. He just shook his head, that easy, practiced smile returning. “There’s nothing to talk about, Miles. Really. I’m not looking for more. You’re not either.” His voice was gentle, but firm. “It was fun. We both needed to blow off some steam. That’s all it has to be.”
Something in my chest loosened—a mix of relief and gratitude, with just a trace of wistfulness. I nodded, meeting his eyes. “Right. No drama. No expectations.”
He grinned, softer now. “Exactly. We’re both grown men. Besides, you’ve got a festival to win. And I’ve got to pretend I didn’t just commit a minor scandal with my son’s nemesis.”
A laugh bubbled out of me, the tension easing for good. “Guess that means no awkward breakfasts, huh?”
“Unless you want pancakes and a lecture about life choices.” He winked, pulling a t-shirt on, looking every bit the unbothered, semi-retired troublemaker.
I stood, stretching, already plotting how to avoid Derek’s café for the next forty-eight hours. “Thanks, Edward. For the distraction. And for not making it weird.”
He tipped his head, warm and honest. “You’re welcome, Miles. Sometimes fun is enough.”
A heartbeat passed, then he shooed me toward the door with a crooked smile. “Go on. Before I start rethinking the one-time rule.”
I grabbed my clothes, feeling almost normal again—just two men, two secrets, and one very destroyed pair of underwear between us.