Once he felt me relax, he slid in deeper, until his hips were pressed against me. I held his gaze and grinned, and he smiled at me as he began to move.
When he grazed my prostate, I yelped at the sensation that shot through me. It flipped a switch, pleasure totally overshadowing discomfort, and I began to rock my hips, finding the rhythm to match his thrusts into me.
Theo started fucking me harder, and I moaned and grabbed his ass with one hand while I jerked myself off with the other. My cock was hard again, even though I’d come just half an hour earlier.
Throughout it all, I never stopped watching my gorgeous boyfriend. He’d started out with a crease of concern between his brows, but once I relaxed and clearly started enjoying myself, his worry eased. He still watched me closely though, to make sure I was okay.
The connection between us was overwhelming. There really was no way to communicate all I was feeling in that moment. All I could do was distill it down to two words, and as he thrust into me, I rasped, “I’m yours.”
He whispered, “Oh fuck, Casey,” as his thrusts became quicker and harder. A moment later, his beautiful face contorted as he started to come in me.
It surprised me when I came for the second time, jerking my cock as Theo thrust into my ass. My body shook from the effort, and I bit back a whimper.
Afterwards, we were beyond exhausted. We both took a minute to catch our breath. Then, with the very last of our energy, we quickly cleaned ourselves up with the towel, crossed the room, and fell into bed.
Theo put his head on my chest, and I wrapped my arms around him. The last thing he whispered before we fell asleep was, “I’m yours, too.”
We were gentle with each other the next morning. We showered together, and then I went downstairs and made a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, and tea, which I brought back to the bedroom.
We ate on the couch in front of the fireplace, dressed only in briefs. Once we finished, Theo climbed onto my lap and murmured, “I wish we could stay like this all day.”
I held him securely and whispered, “Me, too,” before kissing the top of his head.
“Are you alright? I mean, you don’t usually bottom, so—”
“I’m fantastic.” My ass was definitely a little sore, but I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I liked the reminder of the way my sweet, beautiful boyfriend had fucked me.
Eventually, he forced himself to get up. It was Friday morning, and he was due at work soon. He tamed his hair and got dressed in one of his perfect, tailored suits, and as I started to reach for my clothes, he said, “You don’t have to leave when I do. You have your own set of keys now. If you want to stay and relax until you have to go to work, feel free.”
“Actually, the tree-mobile is blocking the garage, so I need to leave with you,” I said, as I stepped into my jeans and pulled them up.
“Oh, right. I forgot about that.”
He seemed a bit lost, so I drew him into my arms and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just…it’s hard transitioning from feeling safe and happy here with you to the hospital, where everyone hates me and thinks I’m an asshole.”
“Not everyone thinks that.”
“Yes, they do. I’ve been making an effort to be nicer, but it doesn’t matter. They all made up their minds about me a long time ago.” He met my gaze and asked, “Have you heard the rumors they spread about me?” When I nodded, the pain in his eyes broke my heart. “They’re not true,” he whispered. “Martin Gaultier was my dear friend and my mentor. He died unexpectedly of an aneurism, and I never asked him for the house or his money. He didn’t have any heirs, so he left it all to me, but I didn’t—”
I cut him off with a gentle kiss, and then I told him, “I know.”
“You do?”
“Of course. You’re a good man, and I know you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But you never asked for an explanation.”
“I didn’t need one, because I know you, Theo.”
He threw his arms around me and held on tight. After a minute, he said, “I’m going to say this anyway, even if you don’t want an explanation. Marty and I weren’t lovers. He wasn’t even gay. Everyone tried to cheapen our relationship with rumors and lies, but he never took advantage of me, and I didn’t manipulate him. He was like a father to me, and I was so grateful for his friendship. I’d never sell this house, or his funky old French car, or get rid of a single book in his beloved library, out of respect to him.”