by Mary Calmes
“Please stop thinking,” he begged me. “Stop worrying… just fucking stop. You’re not gonna break me! I’m not too good for you! I am your hearth. I know it in my heart, and if you don’t take a chance you’re never gonna know if I’m the one who is gonna make your life a fuckin’ joy to live, you grouchy-ass bastard!”
Grouchy-ass bastard?
“Malic! Just stop!”
I stopped.
I pulled out of his embrace and kissed my way down his chest, over the flat stomach to his hard, leaking cock. It really was just as pretty as the rest of him. I smiled up at him, which made him catch his breath, before I bent and swallowed him down the back of my throat.
“Malic!”
I licked and sucked, loving the feel of the velvet hardness sliding over my lips, my tongue, coating him from head to balls before I wrapped my hand around the throbbing shaft.
He jolted under me, drawing his knees up, lifting, the whimpering and the long, aching whine telling me what he needed much more articulately than any words could.
Releasing his shaft, kissing it before I moved, I lifted over him to reach into my nightstand for the lube.
“Malic, when was the last time you got tested?”
“Why?” I asked, grabbing a condom from the pile in the drawer, putting it between my teeth as I brought the lube with me.
“’Cause I want you without anything between us,” he confessed.
“No,” I told him quickly around the foil packet in my mouth.
“Please, Malic.” He caught his breath. “I know you get tested, it’s how you are, where’s the fuckin’ piece of paper? I wanna see it.”
He was so damn bossy, and I liked it more than I would ever tell him. I reached again and came back with the sheet of paper from Jael’s doctor that showed that as of a month ago I was healthy as a horse.
His face lit up like it was Christmas.
“Oh for crissakes, that doesn’t mean we’re gonna––”
“Mine is from two weeks ago, yours is from four… holy shit, Malic, we can fuck like bunnies and we’re both good.”
“Maybe,” I said, “we’ll see, but tonight… I wear a condom or we’re done.”
“Why?” He sounded so pained.
I sat up slowly, straddling the lean hips. He was a vision and I was frozen, admiring the line of him. His body was sinewy, defined, and when I bent to kiss his abs, his torso quivered under my attention. “Because what if I got something in the last two weeks or––”
“How?” he gasped. “You’ve been hurt, right? Recovering? You didn’t fuck anybody.”
He had sounded so damned sure. “I could’ve.”
The look I got, full of understanding, was annoying as crap. “You didn’t.”
“Dyl––”
“So you want us both to get tested again?”
“Just me,” I told him.
He rolled his eyes like I was stupid, and I was going to tell him off, but the way he was looking at me changed, heated, and made my heart beat funny.
“You must really like me since you’re so worried about me being safe and all.”
I didn’t want anything to hurt him. Ever.
“Let me put the condom on you.”
He took the foil packet from me, and while I watched him, his hands started to tremble. I found that just as endearing as I found the contour of his hip erotic. Everything about him was spellbinding. I told him so as I reached out and fisted his cock in my hand, my grip gentle but firm.
“Malic,” he whined, his foot on my thigh, pushing. “I need you.”
I stroked him, using the leaking precome to coat the end of his shaft.
“Guys think ’cause I’m small they hafta be careful… no one ever trusts me or believes me, so I never get what I need. I never get it deep enough or hard enough… I never do.”
With two whole other lovers he didn’t get what he needed? I knew a prepared speech when I heard it. I snapped open the tube and squeezed more than I needed onto my palm. “You will,” I promised him as I ran my fingers across his entrance.
“Oh,” he gasped, shivering, “Malic….”
I swirled a finger around the puckered hole before I slid it deep inside.
“I don’t need you to… I’m ready now.”
But he wasn’t, no matter what he would have me believe. When I pulled out and then pressed two fingers inside him, spreading them, opening him up slowly, gently, I realized that the words, just as I thought, had been for me and not him.
“You think ’cause I’m big and strong that I need it mean and rough,” I said, working my fingers in and out, deeper, stroking his cock harder, faster, watching him come apart in my hands. “You think that if you let me hurt you that I’ll want you.”
He was panting, back bowed, thighs quivering, biting his bottom lip hard.
“But it’s not true,” I said, curving my fingers forward, inside him, feeling for the spot even as I jerked him off at the same time.
My name had never sounded like it did at that moment, deep and sexy and so very hot.
When I withdrew my fingers, his yell of outrage made me smile. My name went from one extreme to the other.
“Malic!” He railed at me. “I need you now! You’ve gotta––”
“I know.” I cut him off, chuckling at his anger, grabbing his thighs, lifting them up and then pressing them back against his chest as I buried myself in his ass in one smooth stroke.
His voice went back to being infused with bliss, and my name was again a prayer.
I pulled out partway and then sheathed myself inside him a second time, harder on the second plunge, deeper. I had taken my time getting him ready, and from the way his muscles held me, tightened around me, I understood that he was teetering on the edge, his orgasm seconds away.
I lifted his knees, sliding first one, then the other over my shoulders, bending forward, arching my back.
“You feel so good, Malic, so fuckin’ good. Please, I won’t break… I won’t… fuck me. Oh God, please fuck me.”
The seductive pleading nearly killed me. I drove inside harder, feeling the sizzling heat pooling down low, my balls tightening, the rise and swell that signaled my impending climax. His hands gripped my shoulders tightly.
“Malic,” he gasped, his voice giving out on him. “I can’t take—I need you, I wanna come, make me come.”
His response to me was so honest and open, his ragged breathing and small shudders letting me know how much he wanted me.
“Baby, please––I… please.”
He was eager and begging, his body throbbing with heat, and I leaned over and kissed him, letting him taste himself on my tongue, on my lips, and his frustrated growl let me know how turned on he really was.
My kiss combined with my movement, the thrust forward, me burying myself inside him, undid him. He clutched the sheet, his hands balled into fists, and he pushed himself up into me and yelled my name.
“Harder! Malic, just––fill me up, do it hard, do it now!”
I buried myself in him, in his heat, loving the feel of him wrapped around me, his muscles squeezing me tightly, milking my shaft.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” I groaned, pushing in deeper and harder with every stroke. “God, I hope you can be mine.”
“Yours already,” he rasped, his body flushed, so hot and so wet. “From the second I opened my eyes… since then.”
Love at first sight was romantic bullshit, but he was a baby so he didn’t know it yet. I was kind of glad.
“Tell me!” he yelled at me. “Malic!”
“Mine,” I growled, my hands on his hips, lifting him before I buried myself in him, cognizant of my angle, watching his body convulse as he roared my name, spurting thick come over his beautiful, quivering stomach.
All his muscles tightened at once, bearing down on me, and watching him, seeing his desire there in his eyes, on his face, raw and open, I came, hard, filling the condom. My heart stopped for one perfec
t frozen moment in time. This man was it. How the hell it had happened I had no idea, but somehow, someway, he had taken hold under my skin, and I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anyone else in my life. If I could not spend the rest of my life with him, it wouldn’t be any kind of life at all. There was only one response to such an epiphany.
“Fuck,” I growled at him.
His deep throaty laughter made me scowl down at him. “Kiss me, you dick.”
There were no better words.
I WOKE up and he was gone. I sat up, my back against the headboard, and felt his spot on the bed. It was still warm, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe he was somewhere hurting. I threw the covers off me and was ready to get out of bed when the door opened.
“Do not get up,” he ordered me.
My eyes filled with Dylan and the tray of food he was carrying. He was in his jeans and nothing else, and the tousled curls, sleepy eyes, and swollen lips were enough to make me hard all over again.
“You’re hungry, right?”
“Put that down and come here,” I grumbled, because I was so happy to see him.
He smiled widely; he made sure the tray was steady on the nightstand and then crawled across my huge king-size bed to me. He didn’t stop when he reached me but climbed into my lap, straddling my thighs, rubbing his ass over my groin.
“Stop that,” I muttered, hands on his face, checking him over.
“I’m fine,” he assured me, unsnapping the button of his jeans, working the zipper down. “And after you’re done eating, I wanna do it in the shower.”
I opened his eyes with my fingers, examining his pupils as he giggled. “This is serious business, idiot. You could die from letting me fuck you.”
“Nope,” he told me, rolling sideways, shucking out of his jeans, kicking them off before returning to my lap. “But I could die from not letting you fuck me. That would be the real tragedy.”
“Could you just––”
“Malic,” he said, his breath touching my face before his lips claimed mine. He kissed me like he owned me instead of the other way around. He tilted my head back, and his tongue was all over mine, tangling, sliding, stroking as he whimpered for attention. I liked it when he got pushy and bit my lip.
I took pity on him and took his cock in my hand.
“Oh,” he gasped, shivering in my grip, breaking the kiss to let his head fall back as he levered up off my lap, pushing in and out of my fist. “Malic… could you… oh.”
I took hold of his beautiful, tight little ass and pulled him forward into my lap, lifting up and carrying him to the edge of the bed.
“What’re you doing?”
I put him on his feet and sank to my knees in front of him.
“Malic––”
“Come on, baby, let me suck you dry.”
The whimper let me know it was the greatest idea I’d ever had in my life. When I swallowed him down, his hands were instantly in my hair, threading through, tugging, holding tight. My gag reflex being nonexistent, I took in the length of him and sucked and licked and rolled him in my hands. I tugged gently and then with increasing force as his breathing became panting and the begging, pleading, turned to loud, adamant demands. When I slid a finger into his still slippery crease, he gave me quick warning.
“Malic, I’m gonna come,” he gasped, his breath hitching.
I sucked harder, added another finger to the first, and then the back of my throat was coated in thick, salty come. I swallowed hard and fast, working my tongue over and around him, continuing to suck until I had it all. Not until he was limp and soft in my mouth did I let the sated cock slip from my lips.
“Feel better?” I asked him.
He sagged against me, and I threw him over my shoulder and stood up. I dumped him back down onto the bed and stared at him. He looked like he belonged there.
“Come here,” he sighed, gesturing me to him.
He took my face in his hands as I bent to kiss him.
“You’re amazing and I get to keep you.”
My head snapped back as I stared down at him.
“Don’t be scared,” he crooned, “I’ll take good care of you.”
I stood up, and he couldn’t keep hold of me as I moved fast around the bed, putting it between us. I had to think.
“Oh, you are scared,” he teased me.
I scowled at him.
He waggled his eyebrows at me. “C’mere, lemme feed you and fuck you.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, yanking hard. What the hell was I going to do? Yes, he could be my hearth, but… that didn’t change the fact that he was just a baby. “I’ll fuck up your life.”
“Okay, that’s one option,” he said, laughing at me. “There is maybe another.”
“Don’t––this is serious now.”
“It’s always been serious, you big stupid jerk, now it’s permanent.”
“What?” My voice went up way higher than it should have.
His laugh was goofy, the grin stupid. “You squealed like a little girl.”
I cleared my throat. “You––I’m still too old for you. What would your father say?”
He looked me up and down, finally coming to rest on my shaft. “Who cares? Let’s ask instead, how did I feel wrapped around your cock?”
I made a noise, pulled up from my gut, I couldn’t help it. He had felt like heaven.
“Malic,” he said, rolling up to his hands and knees, presenting me with his perfect ass. “You want romance; you need bullshit words and a fuckin’ sonnet?”
“Jesus, Dylan,” I moaned, feeling the sensation of a wickedly smiling angel looking over his shoulder at me with his heavy-lidded, bedroom eyes.
“I wanna ride you. Come lie down.”
“Please,” I managed to get out, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.
He patted the bed.
I sank down beside him, stretching out so my feet were on the floor, knees bent over the side of the mattress. Instantly he was up and back with the lube from the nightstand.
“This time there’s no condom, Malic. There doesn’t need to be, and safe, unprotected sex is the gift you get when you’re monogamous. You don’t have to worry about me, I will never, ever, get in bed with anyone else. I finally have the man I always wanted.”
I was going to protest, tell him I wasn’t his, but when I felt his slippery hand fist my cock, I forgot who I was and therefore had no idea what we were talking about.
He lifted up, and I saw my shaft glistening with the lube he had coated me with before he sank slowly down, inch by inch, letting me feel his muscles clench around me, engulfing me, holding me tight. I had no idea how such a small man could take the length and width of me so easily, so completely, but the reason was unimportant, only the fact that he could and apparently loved doing it.
“Made for you,” he told me as if he was reading my mind. “I was made for you, Malic Sunden… just you.”
Head back, eyes closed, he shivered hard as I was fully seated inside him. I wrapped my hand around his shaft, milking it as he started to move, rising and lowering, letting me slide in and out of his tight, hot channel.
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” I said, feeling my cock go deeper with each downward plunge.
“I can’t get… I need more,” he whined, pushing forward into my fist and back to push himself down on my cock. “Malic!”
I lifted him off me and smiled as he yelled his outrage. “Shut up,” I growled in his ear, before I put him down on the bed on his hands and knees.
“Oh yeah,” he whispered as I shifted him off balance so he went facedown onto the big soft bed. I slid over him, pinning him under me, letting him feel my weight, before I kissed a trail down his spine, watching the goose bumps appear over his silky skin.
“Malic, I––” he began, his voice sounding like dried leaves.
“Tell me I can do whatever I want.”
“God, you sound sexy as hell.” His voice with the catch of d
esire made me ache.
“Say it.”
“Malic––yes, whatever you want.”
I moved down his body and kissed the taut flesh of his ass, first one cheek and then the other before my tongue slid between them. He writhed under me.
“You can’t do that,” he gasped, trying to move away from me. “Malic, don’t––”
But it was just him and me, us mixed together, and he tasted like sweat and come, and the lube was there too but I didn’t care, couldn’t be made to. I loved the musky smell of him, the feel of his puckered hole under my tongue, all of it making me groan with my own need.
“Nobody’s ever… oh.”
All the sounds he was making, the moans and the whines, all muffled in the pillow he had buried his face in even as the small tremors shook him, it all ran right to my cock, made it swell and harden. I slipped my tongue in deeper, in then out, continuing the rimming that I could tell was driving him wild. I stroked gently over his hip with one hand, the other slipping under him. The begging started, and I kissed a wet line up his spine then down again. When I returned to his ass, nibbled on it, unable to resist, my mouth sucking and licking at the same time, I thought maybe he was going to come right there. I pushed my tongue deep inside the fluttering hole, bathing him in saliva, tasting him, feasting, until he was panting and finally demanding that I fuck him.
I lifted up, grabbed hold of his hips, and breached him in one driving forward plunge. He howled my name.
I froze, terrified that I’d hurt him.
“Malic,” he yelled, pushing back against me, sliding off my throbbing cock before slamming back against me. “Fuck me. Please… oh, baby, please.”
I rode him hard. I fisted my hand in his hair, yanked his head back hard, grabbed hold of his hip with my other hand and slammed into him over and over, deeper and deeper, as he got louder and louder.
“Malic, I can’t… you feel so good… .so fuckin’ good.”
He was so tight, so hot, so slick, and so vocal. I had never been wanted more and knew that I truly never would be again if I was stupid enough to let this man go. But did I have any right to keep him tethered to me and my secrets and the uncertainty that was my life? Yes, he was my hearth, or could be my hearth, but was that any reason just to make him mine?