Page 103 of Except You

My bottom lip is pulled between my teeth as he presses a kiss to my hole, tentative, unsure, but then he kisses it again, a true kiss, one with purpose and intention. I buck forward, not sure how to react. I’ve never had someone kiss my butthole before, and I don’t know what to do.

“You’re doing so good,” Beau says and then swipes his tongue across me.

He moans as he does it, the vibrations making me clench and unclench, my body starting to shake. But he just reassures me quietly, dipping the tip of his tongue inside of me before licking around my rim. A slow make-out session with my ass. He’s not entering me yet but teasing me with the possibility. My dick is painfully hard the longer he goes, and I can feel my hole loosening as the minutes pass. It’s when I finally say his name, a begging, urgent shout that he finally breaches me, his tongue sliding all the way inside of me. I groan, my teeth sinking further into my lip as he starts a slow pulse, as if he’s fucking me.

One of his hands reaches around and grabs on to my dick, pumping it in time with each thrust of his tongue until my mouth is agape, my moans echoing off the shower walls.

Fuck. Me. This feels good.

I’ll definitely like his entire finger up me. Not just the tip. The whole entire goddamn thing.

“More,” I demand. More. More. Fuck me more. I don’t want him to stop. I want to come with his tongue up my ass, but he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t fucking care about me at all because he stands up abruptly, his teeth sinking into my shoulder.

“You’re nice and open, baby. So fucking wet for me,” I feel a lubed finger press against me and then feel the sting of it moving knuckle deep. It’s different, farther in than his tongue was, but just like anything Bow-tie, I love it.

“You like this?” he asks, and I press my hips back more in response.

“Fuck, yes you do. You feel so good around me,” Beau says lowly, his wrist twisting gently. He hits something inside of me and my cock jerks, eliciting a feral growl from my throat. My eyes roll back in my head and my fingers curl against the wall.

“Good god, Max. You’re so responsive. I knew you would be. That’s your prostate. You like it, huh? Fuck, you’re sexy,” Beau’s spewing words now as his hard dick presses against my ass cheek. He’s grinding against me as he continues to fuck me gently with his fingers, pushing against my prostate with a regularity that’s making my eyes cross.

My legs start to shake as he reaches around and pumps my dick in time with each thrust inside of me, and within seconds, I’m shooting my load against the wall. I fight to stay upright as he massages my prostate through the orgasm before gingerly pulling out of my sensitive hole.

I feel the emptiness the second he’s gone and turn toward him, needing his lips, his kiss, his reassurance.

“You did so good,” Beau tells me. “You were so hot. So damn good. Did you like it?”

I swallow roughly, chasing his lips. “Yeah. I did.”

He sighs against me. “I could come from just doing that to you.”

I feel my eyes sting at the praise and kiss him deeper, needing to be connected to him always. If he ever grew tired of me and left, I’d be broken.

He can’t ever leave me.

We’re a unit now. Two halves of a whole.

I couldn’t function without half a heart. I just know it.

The two of us stand, locked under the warm shower stream until the water heater gives up. We shut it off and step out, drying off and dressing before packing for our impromptu trip to San Diego. It’s when our bags are zipped and we’re heading to the front door, Doggo trotting along next to us, that I stop him with a hand to his arm. My mind is muddled and unsure, and yet I know without a doubt that he is who I want. I don’t want any unspoken words between us. I want him to know where I stand.

His muscles flex under my touch as I pull him toward me.

“Bow-tie,” I begin with a swallow. “I do want you to move in with me. I think you should.”

He blinks at me, his chest moving up and down with deep breaths. He looks flustered and panicked, and I wonder if it’s me that he doesn’t want. Maybe it’s me?

“Max, stop it. I mean it. We can’t talk about this right now.”

My heart falls. “Why not?”

“Because. We just can’t. I don’t want to ruin our mini-vacation with talk of this.”

I don’t see why discussing our future would ruin anything. He must really not want to do this, but at the same time, he basically lives with me already. I bought him that dresser for his clothes and cleared two drawers for him in the bathroom. And over the past few weeks, more and more of his stuff has shown up at my place. Like those throw pillows and that quilt. He even transferred some of his mugs to my cupboards.

I love it.

I never thought I’d want to live with someone. Even with my ex, I didn’t want her to even suggest it. But she’d bring it up incessantly.