Epilogue #2
“Are you nervous to do that in front of me? You’re being my good whore, and if it’s too much, you let me know.” I kissed his temple, letting my lips linger before pulling back.
“Not…” He bit the inside of his cheek, attempting to express himself while settled so deep into devoting everything to me. “Nervous… I-It just feels… Wrong…”
“Wrong? Oh, love, you left that outside when you decided to make me your boyfriend.” My hand settled on the back of his neck, my thumb tracing the side of it. “I’ll coach you, if you wish it. I’ll teach you fucking anything because you’re it for me, Liam, and God, does this make me love you more.”
“B-B-But… I-I…” He looked away from me, his fingers brushing across his thighs. It was a nervous tick I’d picked up on, something he did when he was slipping too far into the recesses of his mind. “I want you to do it… I want your fingers… Because… Because it’s your ass…”
“Because it’s my ass?” I repeated, trying to hide the smirk from blooming onto my face. “Because it’s familiar with my fingers, and mine alone?”
He swallowed again, keeping his gaze averted from me out of embarrassment. “Y-Yes, D-Daddy…”
Fuck.
“Mhm, damn fucking right.” I pressed two fingers against his lips. “Lick.”
Turning back to me, his brown doe eyes met mine.
Without a second of hesitation or a sarcastic rebuttal, he leaned forward, wrapping his mouth around them.
Sinking with a sluggishness that made my cock ache, he held my fixated stare, lathering my skin with his saliva.
He twirled his tongue once before he ascended, pulling back from me as a trail of spit connected my fingers to his lips.
I swallowed my moan at the sight, my other hand digging into his thigh to keep myself from shoving myself into him then and there. Tilting his knee, I tugged, his back greeting the tile. Fuck walking. I just wanted to fuck.
Pressing the two fingers coated in his saliva at his entrance, I slowly pushed forward, watching for any aversive reactions. I was a dick, but there was a limit to how much agony I inflicted on him. He was too sweet to make cry from real pain.
As I entered him, his shoulder blades dug into the floor, a lengthened moan escaping him. “Fuck. Fuck, S-Simon…”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I shoved further until my knuckles hit. “God, we literally fucked earlier this week, and you’re still this goddamn tight?”
Not an answer to my question, but a drawn out whine filled with the definition of guttural need. Lifting his head, he looked at me beneath hooded brows, his stare so full of pleasure I practically came right there.
“P-Please…” he begged, his tongue running along his teeth. “You… I need… I-I need you inside me… I want to feel you fill me…”
A small grunt left me, nails clinging to the soft flesh of his leg. “Fuck.”
I pumped twice with my fingers before removing them. Using my hands as guides, I traced his thighs until they met his knees. Shoving both to the side, I angled my cock to where he’d begged me to fill him, and goddamn, I was beyond my own limits.
“Look at you, Liam. Whimpering and begging like a good slut for Daddy. Is this what you’ve wanted this whole time?”
“Y-Yes… Your cock. P-Please… I need it. I need you.”
Without another delay, I thrusted inside, half of it swallowed immediately by his greedy fucking nature. The rest? I teased, slowly shifting myself forward.
His head slammed back against the tile, back arching further as a pleasure-filled scream tore itself from his throat. Slapping my back, his fingers curled, nails digging into my skin with an intensity I craved. “God! Shit!”
I rolled my hips forward, his ass swallowing the rest of me, and it was beautiful.
His delightful mewling edged me on further as I pulled out, only the tip remaining before slamming into him like I’d wanted to the first time.
I wanted him to draw blood at the intensity, to rake his nails down my back to create glorious scars I’d wear proudly.
I needed him to mark me, to also claim me as his.
“Beautiful. You’re fucking beautiful, sunshine. Look at how perfect you take me.”
“F-Fuck, yes… Your ass. God, you feel so fucking good.” Sinking deeper into my flesh, I felt my lineage bloom, his hold the cause—a cause I’d take over and over again for as long as I lived.
“God, you’re sucking me in,” I groaned, unable to contain my sounds as I thrusted into him with a steady rhythm. One I wanted him to mirror. “Sunshine, fuck, sunshine, stroke your cock… stroke it while I fuck you.”
Without hesitation, his tongue left his mouth, flattening as he licked his palm once. Bringing his arm between us, he coiled his fingers around his length, gliding his hand up and down twice before he met my pace.
“Fuck, Simon. Fuck!” he cried out, his other arm still wrapped around my back. “God, I’m so full. Your cock feels so good inside me, Daddy.”
A purr? A mewl? Fuck me. I didn’t know what it was, but it sent a jolt straight to my core. “Damn right. My fucking ass,” I growled. “And sunshine, you better let me know before you cum.”
“I-I will. Fuck. I will.”
With erratic breathing, his touch grazed the breadth of my shoulders before reaching the back of my neck, his fingers curling themselves into my hair. All it took was one pull, and my head craned toward him, his lips crashing into mine.
I groaned into the kiss, relishing the softness of it before it turned dangerous—a heated exchange that had my tongue swirling over his molars.
There was no fight for dominance, because I was simply that for him.
He was mine to mold, to shape, to train.
He allowed himself to submit, and that was the same for this kiss as I lapped at his mouth with a hunger only he created.
Breathing a moan into me, he scratched my scalp. The simple trace of his fingers sparked my senses, intensifying every feeling, touch, and thought. My mind slipped further as I drank in his essence, and when he rolled his hips forward to chase me, something inside me ignited.
Sluggishly, he drew back from my lips, a lazy smile coating his. Resting his forehead against mine, the soft words that tumbled from him nearly became my undoing. “I love you, Simon Alexander O’Neill.”
He said it every day, and yet, the meaning behind it never dwindled. “I love you too, Liam Oliver Bennett.”
And like the confession spewed between us, I chased that rising high, but I refused to let it take root until my love, my Liam, succumbed further. My fingers burrowed into his side, hard enough I knew bruises would pepper his skin, but they were markings I knew he’d wear with pride.
“Did I tell you to stop stroking yourself?” I muttered, his confession still ringing in my ears. I loved this man, and he would always be my undoing.
“N-No,” he fumbled to find his voice. Reaching down, he pumped himself twice only for a hiss to snake out between clenched teeth. “S-Shit… Simon. I-I’m… close.”
“Then fucking cum.” I was holding back for him, but goddamn I wasn’t sure how much longer I could with how good he felt… with how good he always was to me.
His breath hitched, eyes rolling back as a deep, lengthy moan fled him, my name interlaced in it. “Simon…”
Muscles tensed beneath me, his body going rigid as he rode his high. With his other arm still wrapped around me, his nails sank deeper, blood pooling beneath his touch. His strokes continued as he painted his abdomen with his seed, and I followed right behind him.
“Fuck,” I groaned, filling him completely with every ounce of my essence. I slowed my thrusts, basking in Liam’s warmth as my palm slapped the ground next to his head. My fingers curled as my breathing worked its way down, that high dissipating as I looked at Liam’s flushed face.
Completely removing myself, I pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re incredible.”
He groaned into it, the exhaustion evident in his body as he leaned into me more. “I love… I love you.”
“I love you too, Liam.” I brushed my thumb over his cheek, relishing the way he followed that caress. “Stay here. I’ll clean you up, love.”
As I went to step away, he grabbed my arm. With a sweeping gaze, his eyes fell on my prosthetic, a glint of fear lingering in his dark irises. “Can you… Just carry me? I want… I want to stay with you.”
A soft smile curled on my lips. “Of course. I’ll always stay with you, for as long as you’ll have me.”
Placing one arm around his shoulder and one underneath his knees, I cradled him to my chest before rising on unsteady feet. A groan left me as I adjusted the weight to my good leg, making sure not to favor the prosthetic. While it was equally as strong, I feared putting too much weight on it. .
“God, you gotta lay off packing muscle,” I grunted as I made my way to our bedroom, “or maybe I’m out of practice.”
He laughed softly, a sound I basked in. “I have to keep up with you.”
It was my turn to chuckle. “With me? You’re the one with the hefty shoulder width.”
Kicking the door, I stumbled in, heaving as I tossed him onto the bed. My arms were numb, fingers curling in and out for blood to reach them once more. God, when did I get so weak?
He grunted as his body collided with the mattress, glancing up at me beneath his hooded brows. Reaching for me once more, he grabbed my hand, running his thumb over my knuckles. A gentle hum left him as he sank further, nuzzling into his pillow as he lifted his sleepy gaze to me.
“God. What did I do to get so lucky?”
As I grabbed a towel from our bathroom, I ran it under lukewarm water before kneeling at the side of the bed. Brushing it along his stomach, I hummed, contemplating his question, but only one answer fit.
“You’re the only one who stayed… who never gave up on me.”
He smiled softly, reaching up to rest his palm against my cheek. “And I always will because there is no one else I’d rather have than you.”