Page 52 of Piece Us Together
Maison still doesn’t get weird.
I wait for things to get worse once we’re in the car, no longer with an audience. Instead, Maison reaches over to take my hand in his and grins like I just handed him a million-dollar check. “That went great, don’t you think?”
It’s a close call, but I manage not to drop my jaw in shock. “I—yeah. Yeah, I think so. Yes.”
He huffs a soft laugh at my awkward, stumbling response and gives my hand a squeeze. “Glad we agree.”
Then he lets go of my hand, turns the radio up so the classic rock song playing is loud enough for him to sing along to, grabs my hand again, and drives us home.
I’m lost in my head most of the day, thankful that Maison gets sucked into something with Jake that keeps him busy. I can’t help but overthink everything, analyzing it all, adding it up. There’s this feeling inside of me, like Maison and I are right on the edge of something. Like we’re running out of time to step away from it.
A metaphorical shoe, waiting to drop.
Maison finds me in our room around dinnertime, asking me why I didn’t cook. I lie. I say I’m tired. I say I might go to bed early.
He wraps an arm around me, nuzzling his face in the curve of my neck. He whispers, “I made you a promise this morning, in the shower. You want me to fuck you to sleep?”
I find myself smiling, my mind already clearing out. It’s hard to think when he fucks me, in a different way than Hunter. Maison is all-consuming in bed. He doesn’t empty my mind with subspace, but with his love instead. It’s as if nothing in the world exists but me and him and the moment that we’re in.
“I seem to recall a promise,” I say as I lean into his hold.
“Youseemto, huh?” He chuckles. It’s a warm, low sound that rumbles along my skin. I shiver. “Let me refresh your memory.”
I don’t have time to give a playful answer before he’s bending me over the end of the bed, hands already moving to the waistband of my pants and tugging.
“God,” he breathes as he spreads his hands out over my bare ass. “I love you so fucking much.”
I smirk. “Are you declaring love to my ass?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.” He leans over, chest to my back, his denim-covered erection pressing hard against me. He kisses the spot beneath my ear. “But don’t worry, I’ll declare my love for all of your other parts soon enough.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm. Not to mention, all the things that can’t be seen that I love about you. Like your laugh. Your ability to give me endless shit in a weirdly loving way.” He kisses down the side of my neck and over to my shoulder. “How fucking strong you are. How positive, even after everything you’ve been through.” He kisses from my left shoulder across my upper back to the right one, passing over the top of my spine as he goes. “Your cooking. My god, your fucking cooking. And how happy you are when you’re in the kitchen. How patient you are with me during lessons even though I can literally burn water.” He sighs as his lips start to drag down the knobs of my spine. “How patient you are with me, period.” He kisses the two dimples above my ass. “How loving you are. How supportive.”
“You’re a sap,” I say breathlessly, trying to keep things light so I don’t cry like an idiot. “But I love you—”
“I’m not finished,” he scolds. He kneels behind me, settling on the floor. His calloused hands part my cheeks to reveal my hole. I feel his warm breath against it when he says, “I love how excited you are for fucking Christmas and snow and everything else about the holiday season.” He presses a dry thumb to my hole, just resting it there. “I love filling this with my cum. Fuck,baby, I love using this to make you feel good. I love watching you lose yourself in pleasure.”
His thumb falls away.
His tongue replaces it.
I shudder, my body melting into the mattress as pleasure passes through me.
His thumbs dig into the insides of my cheeks to spread me wider before he presses his tongue in. I gasp at the sensation. I hadn’t noticed I was a little sore after taking them last night and sleeping with the plug, but there’s just enough ache in my hole for him to be able to soothe it with that wet heat.
“Such a needy hole,” he murmurs when he pulls away. I don’t have time to squirm with the sensation of being empty, his first finger sliding in to replace his tongue almost immediately. “Always wanting to be filled.”
“Always,” I agree, my mind buzzing as he presses a second finger into me. It’s coated in either spit or lube, but it still burns just a little. Just enough. “Mais, please.”
“What else—I know I’m missing about a hundred things.” He stands slowly, keeping his fingers buried in my hole as he does. The angle shifts. I shout into the sheets as his knuckles press right against my prostate. “So many things I love about you, Nol. So many fucking things.”
I gasp. Shudder. “Fucking sap,” I manage to say.
“Yeah. Yeah, I really am.” He pulls his fingers out as I hear a soft click. I relax, forcing myself to be patient instead of begging. This isn’t like last night. Hunter isn’t here setting the scene and egging him on. When it’s just the two of us, I don’t think Maison would want me to beg. He never felt comfortable with it before. It’s not like he’s going to make me wait long anyway. It’d almost be bratty to beg.
He knows me well, though. Well enough to laugh softly and say, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to fill you all up now.”