We Have Till Monday

My lungs burned for air, and I felt myself slip from the present in short intervals when all I could focus on were the changes inside me. How everything became magnified compared to what I was used to, from shivers and goose bumps to how I tensed up when he hit a sensitive spot and even how I breathed. He made me lose my goddamn breath. It hitched each time he drove his perfect cock into my ass, which sent sparks of pain-laden pleasure through me.

August left no room for insecurities and awkwardness. He demanded total control and fucked me whichever way he pleased, and I couldn’t hide my reactions. When he hooked an arm under my knee and drove in forcefully, he’d fucked the last of my inhibitions outta me. I met every push and pull, and I had to have my hands on him at all times. He tried to lock my hands above my head again at some point, and I just wiggled free and grabbed at him.

“My sweet, affectionate boy,” he whispered, out of breath. Then he slipped a hand between us and gripped my cock, manipulating me with long, firm strokes that ended with a twist that skimmed the head of my cock across the palm of his hand. “Tell me what you want right now.”

“For you to keep—keep that up,” I panted. “Fuck.” I was so fucking sensitive at the head that each brush of his hand sent waves of liquid heat over me. “Harder—fuck—take me, August. Please fucking take me.”

Oh my God.

My orgasm started rolling through me, and I lost all composure. Pretty sure I lost my English briefly somewhere, too. I just vaguely registered a string of curses in Italian gusting out of me, and by then, I was already gone.

Ropes of come shot out from my cock and landed across my stomach.

August’s gravelly groan sounded far away. I felt him rock into me a few times before he grew still, then how he panted against my neck.

The orgasm took everything from me and left me feeling weirdly raw.

I blinked, swallowed against the dryness in my throat, and waited for my heart rate to return to normal.

Mamma mia, I was fucking shaking.

August withdrew from me and reached over to the nightstand for a box of tissues.

My ass was gonna be sore as hell tomorrow.

“I’d get you a wet towel, but I’m not ready yet.” He spoke quietly as he cleaned up my stomach.

I didn’t know what required readiness for grabbing a towel, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want him to leave the bed, much less the room. Once he was done, he tossed the tissues aside and buried us under the covers, where he gathered me in his arms. And it felt indescribable. I plastered myself to his body and snuck a leg between his.

I breathed in deeply, my mouth watering from the strong smell of sex. Of us.

He exhaled at the same time and lifted my chin. “You’re amazin’, darlin’.”

So are you.

I kissed him unhurriedly, teasing my tongue with his, and got settled to share his pillow. “Ditto.” I cupped his cheek and brushed my thumb over his silvery stubble. “I, uh…I should go to the bathroom and clean up.”

He gripped my ass cheek and squeezed, which didn’t exactly help prevent his come from slowly trickling out of my thoroughly fucked ass. “That’s a matter of opinion,” he informed me. “And my opinion trumps yours.”

I chuckled into a quick kiss. “What’s your opinion, then?”

He made that very clear by brushing a finger over my sensitive opening. “That I prefer to play with your pretty little asshole when it’s wet with Daddy’s come.”

“Jesus.” I turned my face into the pillow and let out a big breath. “You and Camden have the filthiest fuckin’ mouths.”

He rumbled a chuckle and kissed my shoulder.

Eventually, he stopped playing with my pretty little asshole too, and he hugged me tightly to him.

“Speaking of Camden,” he said. “I apologize for going on too much about our situation. He and I haven’t shared a bed with another man since the very beginning of our relationship when we were more focused on kink, so I suppose I’m a bit rusty.”

I eased back a little so I could look at him properly. “Have I complained? If anything, I want more answers. I’m interested in your dynamic.”

He smiled faintly and stroked my cheek. “Still. It’s not why you’re here, is it? You’re on your vacation and deserve a little carefree fun. That doesn’t entail playing therapist to me.”

I snorted and leaned in, pressing my forehead to his. “How about you let me decide what I want on my vacation. And that’s a rhetorical question, you rusty old man.”

Amusement and warmth seeped into his eyes again. “That’s fair. As long as this rusty old man gets to do unspeakable things to you, it’s all good.”