Chapter 21
When the documentary ends, we don’t get up right away. Over the last hour and a half, I’ve ended up cuddled into him. My arm across his stomach with my head resting on his chest. It might have been a thing at first, but after the day we’ve had, I think we both need it.
“Well?” I ask, looking up at him from my spot.
“Actually not as bad as I thought it’d be.”
“I’ve been telling you!”
“Your nerd is rubbing off on me.” He shifts, trying to put distance between us, shoving me. “Get away!”
I shove back, and before I know it, we’re kissing, and his hand slides into my hair and I go with it, melting into him.
It’s different from the other times we’ve kissed, desperate and full of everything we weren’t saying.
This time, it feels honest. Caring almost, the way he holds my head and sucks my lip between his before pulling back.
“Do you want to come upstairs?” I ask, through deep breaths.
This time, instead of an automatic yes, he pauses, searching my face. “You’re not still mad?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not still mad.”
He holds my gaze, like maybe he doesn’t believe me. But then the corner of his mouth turns up to form the smirk I’ve begun to appreciate more than I ever thought possible. “If I’d known all it took was watching a nature documentary, I would’ve done this months ago.”
I open my mouth to tell him that’s absurd, but he kisses me again before I can say anything.
We make it upstairs very slowly, stopping to kiss every other step. When we get the door open, he walks me into the room, his hands grabbing the hem of my t-shirt, pulling back finally to get it over my head.
“Lie down,” he says, nodding toward the bed. “On your stomach.”
I move too fast for my desperation to be subtle, settling on my stomach, and then, because he can’t help himself, he says, “Ass up.”
I turn to look at him, my eyebrows furrowed. “Is that necessary—” But before I can finish my question, I feel an open-handed slap over my pajama pants, the sound echoing through the room.
“Will!” I shout, scandalized that he would actually do that.
He laughs out loud, throwing his head back, clutching his chest, and I feel myself smiling into the pillow at his happiness.
Without asking again, he grabs my hips, placing me where he wants. And even if it feels humiliating, I’m not thinking about that anymore when I feel his lips on my lower back and his hands grasping the waistband of my pants, not pulling them down yet, resting there.
“Hurry up,” I shift, urging him to keep going.
“You that desperate for me, Doc?” he asks, sliding the fabric down my ass. I hear him exhale behind me, cursing under his breath.
He leans down, kissing along my back, down lower and lower and—
I remember the lube and condoms in the nightstand drawer that I bought for this very occasion. Ignoring his complaints, I sit up, pulling out of his grip and reaching for the drawer.
“Won’t be needing this for a while,” he says when I’ve settled back in, dropping the lube back onto the bed along with the condoms.
“What—” I start to ask, but then he’s tugging my pants the rest of the way down, and his hands are on me, pulling me back up, spreading me open, and his mouth…
It’s on me again, licking at my hole.
Without the anxiety and confusion of what he’s doing, I’m able to relax into it. I grip the pillow tight, burying my face into it, letting him do whatever he wants to me.
It feels better than anything ever should.
When he slides his tongue inside of me, I make sounds into the pillow that I’ve never made before. It’s so much. I feel like I shouldn’t want this, but I push back against him, desperate for more.
He groans, telling me he’s enjoying this as much as I am, and after that—
Time stops existing.
At some point, he slides a finger in beside his tongue, and I don’t even notice until it’s all the way inside, pressing on my prostate while he licks at my rim, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to last like this.
My orgasm sits right there, all I need is a little more.
The lube appears, and his tongue is gone as he slides in a second finger, working me open, followed by a third, I think.
I can barely process anything, and we haven’t even—
“Will,” I say into the pillow, pushing back on his fingers.
“Mhm?” he asks, his voice wrecked, and he’s not even the one being fingered right now.
“I need you. Please.”
He slides his fingers out of me at my request. I clench around nothing, feeling a prickle of anxiety being so exposed, but it’s not for long. The condom package rips, and then there’s a hand on my hip as his cock presses against my hole.
When he begins to press inside, the relaxed feeling from earlier fades away as I tense up, squeezing the pillow and my eyes shut. It doesn’t hurt exactly. But it doesn’t not hurt. There’s so much pressure, and he’s big, and I’ve never done this before and—
It’s just a lot.
“Wait,” I say through clenched teeth.
He stops immediately, one of his hands moves from my hip to my back, rubbing gentle circles that help me relax. “Tell me if it’s too much. We don’t have to do this. Or you can top, I was kidding about—”
“No, I want to,” I say, pressing back against him to prove my point, taking another inch. “Fuck.” I take a deep breath, willing myself to relax against the bed. “Okay. Keep going.”
He goes slower this time, slow enough that I can adjust to him, stopping once himself with a groan. “You feel so good. Jesus.”
“Thank you,” I say, muffled by the pillow, pressing back so he’s all the way inside me, earning another sound, followed by a laugh.
“Dude, you don’t say thank you—” I can feel him shaking from inside me, making me squirm until he holds me still.
He sets a slow pace, more gentle than I would expect from our previous encounters, keeping his hands on me, checking over and over if I’m okay.
I find that I am. It feels good, being close to him like this. Having him inside of me.
And then the angle changes slightly, and he’s hitting my prostate with every thrust, and it starts to feel better than good. “Do that again.”
He hits the same spot again, over and over, and all I can do is hold on while Will Davis takes me apart thoroughly. “More,” I say between high-pitched moans that he’ll probably make fun of me for later.
He gives me more. Faster, deeper, harder, and I push back to meet him because I need it. I need to come, and I need more of his cock.
“Fuck,” he says, his grip on my hip tightening. “I wish you could see me sliding into your tight ass. It’s so hot, need to take a fucking picture of this—” His thumb joins his cock, pressing along my rim, and I don’t think I can hold on for much longer.
Will has always had a dirty mouth. But right now, he doesn’t stop, low and steady, telling me things that have my face permanently hot and my cock leaking onto the bed.
“Taking it so good, Doc. What would the town think if they saw you like this?”
“Harder.”
“This ass belongs to me.”
“More.”
“Such a slut for me. You know who can give you what you need.”
“Faster.”
“Touch yourself,” he says.
Somehow, through the haze of Will and his cock and his words, I’m able to get my hand under myself clumsily, the angle too awkward to really do anything, but it doesn’t matter.
All it takes is gripping myself and a final thrust before I’m shuddering through one of the most intense orgasms of my life.
My toes curling and my cock still trying to come, even after I’ve dried up.
Once I’m as finished as I can be, I go flat against the mattress, exhaustion taking over. He follows me down, gripping my ass, holding me open as he fucks me harder and harder until he stops, coming with a squeeze to my skin and a deep groan.
When he starts to get too heavy, he rolls to the side, tossing the condom somewhere, and I go with him, clinging to his side.
“Fuck,” he says eventually. “You know that’s the first time I’ve done that in damn near eight years.”
I turn my head to look at him. “Really?”
“Mhm.”
“I figured you’d have found a prison boyfriend. Lots of options.”
“Fuck no. Are you kidding? With a face like this, you can’t be going around admitting you’re into dudes. Ain’t safe.”
“That’s a little cocky, don’t you think?”
He raises an eyebrow. “You saying you disagree?”
I consider arguing, but the day is catching up with me, and Will fucked me, and he hasn’t left, so I squeeze him tighter, wrapping myself around him. “I’d date you if I were in prison.”
“Well, that’s real sweet of you, Doc,” he says, dropping a big hand into my hair, ruining the quiet moment with the worst follow-up he could have possibly thought of.
“I just realized you probably fucked my sister in this bed.”
All I can do is shake my head, my eyes closing. “New mattress. Got it when we moved here. It’d been a few years by then.” He goes quiet again, seeming to accept that he didn’t fuck me in the bed I shared with his sister.
“Will,” I say, drifting off as his fingers trace patterns on my back.
“Mm.”
“I’m glad you came back.”