Chapter 25 - Cole
Cole’s cabin shimmered with a kind of heat that had little to do with the fire roaring in the stone hearth.
The Montana wind rattled the windows, but inside, the air felt saturated, dense with anticipation and the barely-contained chaos of his own pulse.
He’d cleaned the place up—swept the floor, set out a bottle of decent Syrah, actually folded the old Pendleton blanket on the sofa instead of letting it lie crumpled where it landed after last night’s nap.
He’d been here before, in a way—the prelude to a first time, the gnawing nervousness, the mental rehearsal of what he’d say or do or how he might be received.
But never with a man. Never with Ethan. Never with anyone who made his heart hammer so wild he thought he might go into cardiac arrest before the door even opened.
He paced the space, the boards under his boots creaking their familiar protest, and tried to swallow the nervous energy swirling inside of him.
He tried to talk himself down, to focus on something safe—a tally of each knot in the pine paneling, the faint whiff of gun oil from the rifle rack by the window, the slow tick of the old regulator clock above the mantle.
It was pointless. Every thought curved back to the same place. To Ethan.
The knock caught him mid-stride. Not the polite, tentative tap of a ranch hand or a guest, but the sure, deliberate knock he’d somehow known Ethan would bring.
He hesitated a heartbeat, fighting an urge to look in the mirror, to check himself for signs of panic or hope. Then he crossed the room and opened the door.
Cole swung open the door, and the sight before him stole his breath.
Ethan stood framed in the warm glow of the lamplight, he was sharply dressed, the fabric clinging to his form in all the right places—black t-shirt stretched snug across his chest and arms, jeans just tight enough to show the contour of thigh and cock and the sharp rise of ass at the back.
His lips curled at the edge in a smirk that was more challenge than greeting, and his eyes—those fucking eyes—fixed on Cole with a heat that felt dangerous.
His hair was neatly combed back, jaw freshly shaven, lending him an air of effortless sophistication, but it was the confidence radiating from Ethan that truly disarmed Cole; his chin was held high, those piercing green eyes locked onto Cole with an intensity that sent a jolt through him.
Ethan’s body exuded a raw magnetism, as if it were brimming with pent-up desire, ready to overflow at any moment.
“Hey,” Ethan said.
Cole’s voice almost didn’t work. “Hey, come in.”
Ethan stepped inside and paused by the fire, warming his hands.
The brief flash of movement beneath the black t-shirt made Cole dizzy—the subtle bulge at the groin, the clean line of thigh above the jeans, the sharp curve of his ass as he moved.
Ethan smelled like a thunderstorm, like the air after rain—intense and wild and impossible to ignore.
Ethan’s smile had a new edge to it—hungry, dangerous, and somehow innocent all at once.
For a second, neither moved. The fire snapped and cracked, shadowing the room in swirls of gold. Cole closed the distance in two strides, then stopped just close enough that the heat of Ethan’s body tingled along his skin.
The urge to devour him was overwhelming.
But instead, Cole cupped Ethan’s jaw, thumb stroking the corner of his mouth, and kissed him.
Ethan melted into the contact. Cole let himself linger in it, unhurried, savoring it.
He remembered every woman he’d ever kissed, and not a single one had ever made him feel this—like he could just stop fighting and finally, finally breathe.
They broke for air. Ethan’s eyes were glazed, the pupils wide and wanting. “Fuck the small talk,” Ethan said, voice a raw scrape. “I’ve wanted this all day. I almost lost my mind waiting.”
“You want it?” Cole asked as he pressed Ethan up against the table, hips tight to Ethan’s, cocks pressed together through two thin layers of fabric. “Tell me what you want.”
Ethan didn’t even flinch. “I want you to take me. All the way. I want you to fuck me until I can’t stand. Dominate me. I want to be yours.”
Cole groaned—low, primal, raw. He grabbed the hem of Ethan’s t-shirt and yanked it over his head, baring the chest he’d ached to touch for days.
Cole couldn’t help himself—he leaned in and kissed across Ethan’s collarbone, then down, sucking at the sensitive flesh until Ethan gasped and dug his nails into Cole’s neck.
It hadn’t fully registered until now how starved he was for this, for every inch of Ethan’s skin, for every sound he could wring out of him.
His hands moved down, tracing the ridges of the abs, finding the faint trail of hair below the navel.
He undid Ethan’s jeans and yanked them down, taking the black briefs with them in a single, unceremonious tug.
Ethan stepped out of the pile, standing naked and unashamed in the firelight.
Cole took a moment to just admire. Ethan’s cock was already hard, bobbing slightly with each breath, the head flushed and leaking.
His balls were tight, the hair gone, and his ass was smooth, round, and perfect.
Ethan slowly spun around, displaying himself for Cole.
“You shaved,” Cole said, the realization lighting him up, sending a spike of need straight through him.
Ethan nodded, smirking. "For you. Thought you'd like it."
Cole's pupils dilated as he ran a calloused thumb across the smooth skin.
"Fuck," he growled, voice dropping an octave.
"I don’t just like it, I love it. Makes me want to bend you over right now and show you exactly what I think about it.
" Cole said as he reached around and smacked Ethan’s ass before grabbing a handful of his smooth bubble butt.
Ethan smiled.
Cole couldn’t wait any more. “Get down on your knees,” he commanded.
“Yes sir.” Ethan slowly kissed down Cole’s chest, pausing to suck each nipple, his hands went everywhere—shoulders, chest, down to the waistband of Cole’s jeans, unbuttoning them with shaky but determined fingers.
When he freed Cole’s cock, it was already leaking and ready, the head thick and swollen.
“Holy fuck,” Ethan whispered, eyeing the uncut cock with awe. “I’ll never get over how beautiful your cock is.” He grinned, then took Cole’s cock into his mouth with a hunger that left Cole stunned, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking deep, eyes never breaking contact..
“You’re so hot,” Cole said, his hand threading through Ethan’s hair.
Ethan took it deep, not even slowing when he gagged a little—he just pushed further, hand stroking the base in time with each thrust. When Cole pulled out, strings of spit connected Ethan’s lips to his cock, and the look in Ethan’s eyes nearly made Cole bust.
“What a good little cocksucker you are.” Cole said, voice ragged.
Ethan licked his lips, then dove back in, swirling his tongue around the head, then deepthroating to the balls before slowly pulling back to the tip before going all the way down again and he did this over and over.
Cole was close—too close. He yanked Ethan up and kissed him again. “Bend over,” Cole ordered, his eyes motioned towards the bed.
Ethan obeyed—he climbed onto the bed and went face down into the mattress, ass up high. The sight of Ethan’s perfect, bubble ass—shaved, gleaming, ready—made Cole’s cock throb so hard it hurt.
Cole climbed onto the bed and got behind Ethan. He spread Ethan’s cheeks and spit on the hole, then leaned down and licked it, slow and deep, tongue working in circles. Ethan whimpered and pushed back.
“More,” Ethan begged.
Cole worked his tongue deeper, fucking Ethan with it, hands spreading his ass wider. Then, when Ethan was quivering and leaking onto the sheets, Cole pulled away and reached for the travel lube on the nightstand.
He squirted a generous dollop onto his fingers and worked it in, pressing against Ethan’s hole with slow, steady force. One finger, then two. Ethan moaned, rocked back, opening up for him.
“Feel good?” Cole asked.
Ethan looked back over his shoulder, eyes wild. “God, yes. I want you inside me. I want all of you.”
Cole added more lube, then a third finger. Ethan took it, gasping, fingers clutching the sheets.
“You ready to give me your tight little asshole?” The words came out a snarl, guttural and hungry, warped by months—years—of pent-up craving.
Ethan’s answer was a whisper, but it hit Cole with the force of a bullet. “Please.”
Cole slicked up his cock, lined it up, and pushed—slow and gentle. He pressed the leaking head against Ethan’s opening and felt him tense.
“Relax,” Cole said, he couldn’t bear the thought of causing Ethan pain. He held Ethan’s hips, thumbs digging into the crease just above the ass. When the head finally popped past the rim, Ethan’s whole body jerked, back arching, hands clutching the sheets. Cole stopped, rubbing Ethan’s lower back.
“You good?” he asked.
“More than good. Keep going.” Ethan’s voice was thin and hungry.
So Cole did. He pushed deeper, the heat and squeeze of Ethan’s tight ass was nearly enough to make him bust right then.
He went slow, inch by inch, every nerve in his body tuned to Ethan’s sounds—the hitch of his breath, the moan that turned to a shiver, the little curse that slipped out when Cole’s cock got halfway in.
Cole pushed deeper, inch by inch, feeling the tight, perfect grip of Ethan’s ass clinging to every bit of his cock.
It was pure, molten pleasure—a thing he’d only ever dreamed of—finally made real.
When he got balls-deep, they both paused. Ethan was gasping, sweat beading at his brow, knuckles white against the comforter.
Cole palmed his lower back, massaged gentle circles and waited until Ethan’s body started to melt into his, until the shivers gave way to a low, rumbling want.