Chapter 9
Cain
Ihadn’t planned to fuck him. Not yet. I had simply planned to get us both off, get him addicted again, and ensure he’d show up for his final follow-up, discharge him, and then fuck him.
But he just had to run his mouth. He had to act like some twenty-one-year-old twink could offer more than I can.
Patrick may have convinced himself he enjoyed being a top, but he’s a bottom through and through.
Even now, his hole is practically beckoning me inside, and I’ve only had him plant his feet on the bed.
He and I both know why he never let Taylor inside him.
Because Patrick has always belonged to me and me alone.
“What about my surgery?” he asks.
“I’m not going to fuck your chest,” I reply. My voice is strained with desire as I take my first swipe over his greedy asshole. Hearing the sharp inhale of pleasure never gets old, and to my absolute delight, it’s accompanied by a whimper. “Besides, you’ve already come once and survived.”
Patrick drives his heels into the mattress, trying to pull his body down onto my fingers as I breach his hole with my heavily lubed index and middle fingers.
“Relax,” I growl. “This isn’t a free-for-all. You still need to try to keep your heart rate under control.”
“Then maybe you should get your fingers out of my ass,” he fires back, making me smile.
“What’s the matter? No one satisfied this pussy in a long time?”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“We’re getting to that.” I shove my fingers deeper inside him as I rock my entire body forward, using my other hand to grab his chin. When I swipe over his prostate, his mouth falls open, and I use the opportunity to spit directly into the back of his throat, mixing our DNA.
“Jesus Christ, you’re filthy,” he moans, still trying to ride my fingers.
“It’s your favorite thing about me. Well, maybe second favorite,” I correct.
“Shut up and just fuck me already,” he whines.
I’d love to torture him more, maybe edge him a few times just to see how heavy I can make his balls before letting him come again, reminding him that we defy time and distance, but the reality is that I do need to be careful with him.
His recovery has gone well, but he’s not out of the woods yet, and I’m already pushing his limits.
Withdrawing my fingers, I add lube to my cock.
There will be no discussion of condoms because nothing will keep me from feeling this ass that I own. Not to mention, I’ve seen his chart and know he’s negative. And regardless of how much he loves me or hates me, he knows I’d never put him at risk. Not like that.
I don’t ask if he’s ready because I know the answer, so I simply line myself up and push forward, wishing I could fold him in half to see better, but I’ll make do with the exquisite feeling of Patrick Miller’s body welcoming me home.
“Fucking hell, Kitten. How is this even better than I remembered?” I ask as Patrick scrapes his blunt nails across my thighs.
His blue irises have been swallowed by his dilated pupils, and the look of pure ecstasy on his face has me dangerously close to the edge already.
“Stroke yourself. This’ll be fast. I don’t want your heart rate spiked for long. ”
It’s a believable lie, but a lie nonetheless.
The truth is that, for once, I can’t hold back, and I don’t want him to know it.
Patrick spits in his palm and begins jerking himself, but just like always, as soon as the head of my cock swells inside him, he empties his load at the same time.
We grunt through our embarrassingly quick releases, not caring in the least that we sound like deranged cavemen.
After coming down from the high Patrick never fails to give me, I swipe my fingers through the mess running past my cock and out of his ass.
I can’t really see it from how I’m sitting, but I know it’s there.
The feeling of me dripping out of him is different this time, heavier in a way only a twenty-five-year separation can make it.
I have the strangest urge to brush a gentle kiss across his lips, but I hold back. Being the needy one has always been Patrick’s role, and I expect his usual fuck-drunk demeanor and clinginess to return shortly.
But they never come.
“Lock the door when you leave, will you?” he says instead, gingerly pushing up from the bed.
I’m shocked into silence as he forces me from his body, crosses the room, and shuts the bathroom door without another word.
It would seem my kitten has grown claws.
I can’t say I’m a fan, especially since this is the first time Patrick has ever turned his back on me.
Two can play this game, though.
If he’s dismissing me, I’ll see myself out and let him choke on his victory.
He can spend the night wishing I were pressed against him while I sleep soundly, not giving him another thought.
I got what I came for.
Four weeks later, I’m pretending like I don’t have tomorrow’s date mentally circled on the calendar.
Patrick’s final follow-up.
Not taking any chances, I send him a text.
Me
Be here tomorrow, or I’ll show up on your doorstep again.
I don’t expect him to answer, but my phone vibrates less than a minute later.
Patrick
I’m on the way to my hotel already. Don’t be fifteen minutes late this time. My flight is at 4.
My fingers start typing before I grant them permission to do so.
Me:
There’s no need to waste money on a hotel when I have four bedrooms. I’m about to leave the office. I’ll text you the address.
Patrick
I’m not staying with you.
I’m not interested in arguing or wasting time, so I call Patrick instead of sending another text.
As soon as the call connects, I begin speaking, not offering him a chance to talk first. There’s one tactic that will guarantee my victory, and I’m willing to use it in order to get what I want.
“I’ve had a long day in the OR, and I’m tired. Knowing you’re in my city, but not in my house, will piss me off, and I won’t get a good night’s sleep.”
Instead of caving to my admission of vulnerability, Patrick throws a barb at me.
“Your mood swings and your sleep schedule aren’t my problem anymore, Cain. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The line goes dead as my frayed nerve endings come alive.
Patrick should know that the harder he pushes me away, the harder I’m going to fight back. I love the chase as much as I love what comes after I catch my prey.
And the fact remains that Patrick is my favorite prey.