20 Mike
Iwalk out of the basement after what seems like hours, expecting to find my boyfriend waiting for me in the same spot on the floor beside the door. But Nate is no longer where I left him.
I walk toward the bedrooms because I need him in this moment.
I need his comfort. I notice the closed door of his bedroom, and I assume he has gone to bed.
I need to feel something, so I make my way into Nate’s room despite knowing this man only closes his bedroom door when he wants some alone time.
I don’t care. Not that his personal space isn’t important to me.
It is. But in moments like this, it’s also important to have him beside me, and sometimes I need to prioritize myself. Call me selfish—I deserve it.
When I reach his door, I slowly open it.
I don’t knock because I know after the night we had, and the day we are still having, it’s possible he is just sleeping.
As the door slowly opens, it reveals my man sleeping, tucked into his bed so peacefully.
That alone takes my breath away. His dark hair falls slightly onto his face, and his tan Mediterranean skin is a stark contrast to the ink that decorates it.
My brother and I look almost identical, and not half bad.
But Nate was always both the brains and the looks of our little group, even if he doesn’t believe it.
His Italian roots are clear in the olive tone his skin takes when it’s exposed to the sun and his dark brown hair; his eyes appear almost black in certain lights and honey-brown in others.
But what captivates every part of my existence is his natural air of dominance.
Just by existing in a room, he makes you want to follow his lead.
He radiates an energy that makes you say yes to everything he could ask of you.
This man could dominate anything and anyone—I am as sure of it as I am of my ability to breathe.
I walk toward the bed, careful not to make much noise, and slip under the covers into the space next to him.
I notice immediately that he is completely naked.
It’s not fair for him to be the only one.
It takes a moment for me to strip off my own clothes before moving closer to him.
He is sleeping on his side, with his face pressed into the pillow.
His hair covers his eyes, and I trace the features of his face with my fingers, passing over his lips as I feel him stir against my touch.
I lower my lips to his neck and kiss him, reaching with my hand under the covers. His cock is already hard, and I realize he is slowly waking up.
“Mike?” He murmurs, a mix of a statement and a question.
“Yes, my love,” I assure him, even though I want to be a brat and ask who else he thinks would grope his cock under the covers. I don’t. I wrap my fingers around his dick tighter, working him up, kissing and biting his neck at the same time.
I push him onto his back and kiss my way down, taking him in my mouth before he can object.
He doesn’t, though. A loud moan escapes him as I take him deeper.
His cock reaches the back of my throat, and I almost gag around it when it does.
But that’s exactly what I want. I need him to take my ability to breathe—to make me feel anything other than sorrow and despair.
His fingers tangle in my hair, as if he figured out the assignment, and he pushes my head, making my eyes tear up as he reaches the back of my throat again and again, fucking my mouth with hard thrusts. I gag and struggle to breathe, and he praises me.
“Good boy, keep going,” he says in a husky voice, moving his hips to meet my mouth. His cock scrapes against my teeth as he roughly fucks my mouth, but he doesn’t care. He continues, holding my hair in a tight fist, guiding me to blow him exactly the way he wants.
I pull away just a little, as much as he allows. I lick and nibble at the tip of his cock before taking him deep into my throat again and again, feeling him tense as he reaches his orgasm. He spills every drop of cum, coating my tongue and throat, and I savor every bit of him.
“I love you, pretty boy,” he tells me.
I love you too, Nathan.