Chapter 28 #2
Kieran no longer sounded reserved. His usual cocky tone laced every word. That smirk, once enough to make Matthieu see red, but now only made him burn, spread across his face.
“We aren’t doing it here.” He tugged Matthieu to his feet, pressing his fully clothed body against every inch of Kieran’s flushed skin. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”
“You going to romance me, sweetheart?” The taunt was meant to mask the sudden vulnerability creeping in, yet something told him Kieran saw right through it.
“You bet I am.”
Getting up the stairs to Kieran’s room took a while.
Kieran turned, and one look at that sinful hockey butt had Matthieu needing to kiss him again.
They crashed up the stairs, trading control, pressing each other against the wall until they nearly fell onto the landing.
Matthieu was so turned on he almost begged Kieran to take him right there in the hallway—the same hallway he’d fucked Kieran in months ago, back when this was still just sex.
The only thing stopping him was the lack of supplies, and he’d need plenty the first time they did this.
“Do you want to shower first?” Kieran asked once they finally reached the bedroom. He’d stripped most of Matthieu’s clothes as they wrestled up the stairs, leaving only his briefs. “Or was this…”
“No, I didn’t plan this,” Matthieu said, already knowing exactly what Kieran meant. If he’d come over tonight intending to be fucked, Kieran would’ve found him an anxious puddle on the couch.
“Then go shower.”
Matthieu nodded.
“But Matty,” Kieran looked at him with so much love and affection it made something itch beneath his skin. “If you change your mind, that’s okay. I don’t need that from you. You know that, right?”
“I do.”
Matthieu didn’t waste time in the shower. He soaped up, paid careful attention to certain areas, and let the scalding water rinse him clean. By the time he returned to Kieran’s room, the man had produced candles from somewhere and was busy lighting them.
“Jesus, sweetheart.” Matthieu cut himself off before the scathing words slipped out and forced something softer. “You weren’t lying when you said you wanted romance.”
Kieran grinned and stalked over to pull him into another kiss.
Matthieu kissed him back, slower this time, letting himself be kissed, letting himself be held.
It was new, letting someone else set the pace, even for a moment.
It made his skin tingle and his heart race.
Kieran’s hands were careful, reverent, like he knew exactly how much to give and how much to hold back.
It was as if he were waiting for Matthieu to let him fully take over.
“Don’t handle me like glass,” Matthieu murmured against his mouth.
“I wouldn’t dare,” Kieran said with a grin, though heat burned behind it. “You have to tell me if you don’t like something. You hear me? We can stop anytime.”
Matthieu nodded once.
Kieran urged him backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed.
Matthieu sat, muscles tense, and let Kieran kiss a trail from his mouth to his neck, then across his chest. Kieran’s hands were everywhere, mapping him, exploring skin he’d touched a thousand times like it was the very first. His fingertips dragged over every line of muscle, his tongue flicked over Matthieu’s nipple until he gasped.
He fought the urge to pull Kieran down, to flip them, to take over the way that made him feel powerful. But he resisted. He let Kieran guide him. Surrendering to the man before him felt like the most powerful thing of all.
“Lie back,” Kieran murmured, the command laced with warmth.
Matthieu hesitated for half a second, then obeyed. Kieran climbed over him, skin flushed, his weight pressing him into the mattress. It steadied Matthieu, made him feel less raw.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Kieran whispered, nipping at the edge of his jaw. “I want to make you feel so good.”
Matthieu threaded his fingers into Kieran’s hair and tugged hard enough to make him groan. “Then stop talking and do it.”
Kieran laughed, low and hoarse. “You’re unbelievable. Planning to top from the bottom, Matty?”
“Not if you make it worth my while.”
The lube was warm—Kieran must have had it tucked under a pillow.
Matthieu gasped at the first slick press of fingers against his hole.
It wasn’t his first time being touched like this, but it had been a while, and the pressure was almost overwhelming.
Kieran must’ve felt him tense, because he whispered soothing words against Matthieu’s inner thigh, then took him into his mouth for a slow, languid suck.
The way Kieran touched him was confident, practiced, patient. Every motion said: I want you. I love you. I need you. Matthieu gritted his teeth, one arm flung over his eyes as Kieran worked him open with methodical care. His body burned, nerves electric.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” Kieran whispered, voice ragged. “You feel like heaven. I can’t wait to get my cock in you.”
“Don’t call me baby,” Matthieu rasped. His hips ground greedily back into Kieran’s touch. “You know I hate that.”
“Fine,” Kieran said, biting down on his thigh hard enough to make him flinch and moan. “You’re doing so good, sir.”
Matthieu’s bark of laughter cracked something tight in his chest. “You little shit.”
“I love you,” Kieran said, suddenly serious, his forehead pressed to Matthieu’s hip.
That sobered him. He dropped his arm and met Kieran’s gaze. “Then fuck me like you mean it. I’m ready.”
“You sure?”
“God, yes, I’m sure.”
Kieran slicked his cock and entered him slowly, murmuring praise against Matthieu’s skin. Matthieu fought to keep his breathing even, forcing himself to relax while every inch of his body wanted to tense against the intrusion.
This is Kieran, he reminded himself. He’ll never hurt you. You’re safe. He’s got you.
The thought was finally enough to ease the tension. Kieran rocked into him slowly, each careful thrust sinking deeper until he bottomed out. Matthieu’s whole body shuddered, impossibly full. Impossibly owned.
Kieran studied his face, watching for any sign that Matthieu had changed his mind.
But he wanted this. God, did he want this.
He didn’t want Kieran to hold back, didn’t want him to be gentle.
He wanted to feel every slam of his hips.
He wanted Kieran to treat his body the way Matthieu loved treating his.
“It’s okay,” he croaked. “Sweetheart, it feels so fucking good.”
That was all the confirmation Kieran needed.
He started moving again, still torturously slow, every stroke pressed against his prostate sent bolts of electricity through his limbs.
It felt unbelievably good. Unbelievably right.
Matthieu silently cursed himself for not going here with Kieran before, for denying himself this feeling.
Matthieu’s fingers dug into Kieran’s shoulders as he wrapped his legs around his hips, whispering, “Harder” into the skin below his ear.
That snapped something between them. Kieran stopped holding back, slamming into Matthieu as his rhythm turned hungry, and Matthieu met him thrust for thrust. Their mouths met in a clash of teeth and tongues.
Kieran drove into him with everything he had.
Matthieu met every snap of his hips with a snarl, and a groan, and a desperation so raw he felt inside out.
It was everything Matthieu had feared it would be. Too real. Too exposing. Too perfect.
Kieran gripped Matthieu’s cock, stroking in time, and it wasn’t long before Matthieu came with a ragged cry, body arching off the bed. Kieran followed shortly after, collapsing over him with a whispered curse and a kiss to his temple. They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing in tandem.
“Okay?” Kieran muttered as he finally rolled to one side, letting Matthieu breathe.
Matthieu hummed in approval, words too difficult to manage.
Kieran responded with his patented cocky laugh. “We’ll make a switch out of you yet,” he said, pressing a delicate kiss to Matthieu’s shoulder.
It was unfair to say because Matthieu was too fucked out to argue. He had a new appreciation for how quickly Kieran could rebound and play hockey after coming that hard. Instead, he let Kieran clean him up, mumbled “I love you” more into the pillow than to Kieran, and let sleep tug him under.