Page 94 of The Quirky Vet

"Please don't talk about my dead grandfather looking down on us when we're lying naked in his house after having sex for the first time. That's disturbing."

"Shit. You're right. Sorry. Won't happen again."

"Which part?" Muir wriggles out of my grip and rolls over so he's facing me. "You mentioning Gramps while we're naked or fucking me?"

"Oh, I am definitely fucking you again."

His eyes light up. "Ooh, yay. When?"

I chuckle. "When I get hard again. Give me ten minutes."

He presses a kiss to my lips. "I'm giving you five."

19

Muir

"Oh, fuck, yeah," I moan, bouncing up and down on Fitz's meaty cock. "Feels so good."

"You look so sexy, bubba," he says from underneath me. The endearment shoots straight to my hole, and I grind my hips, riding his dick with even more gusto. "My, my, my," he pants. "Aren't you a little fuck-wagon?"

I glance down at him and grin. "I'm more of a fuck-SUV, thank you very much."

I dig my knees into the mattress and shift my body weight onto them, lifting so that my hole is only gripping the top half of Fitz's cock. And then I do something I've only ever practised a few times on my own—I clench and unclench my ring.

Fitz's eyes roll into the back of his head. "Oh, Jesus, holy fuck. What are you doing? That feels amazing."

I lower back down and take his fat cock all the way to the base, then slide my palms up his chest, kneading his pecs when I reach them. "I'm putting thepowerin power bottom."

"You sure fucking are."

When we woke up this morning, we were both horny as fuck and keen for another round because the four rounds we had last night just weren't enough.

Fitz's cock spears into my body, and I take it with ease, like his dick was made for me. This was the first position I ever tried when fucking myself with a dildo, and it's totally my favourite. It's not because I get to control the pace and depth and general speed of things—although that is a handy bonus—it's that for me, for my body, this position lets me get the most cock inside me.

Turns out, I'm not just a power bottom, I'm a hungry power bottom.

Good thing then that Fitz has got more than enough—size and stamina-wise—to fulfil my appetite.

"Wait," he rasps, and I come to a halt. He brings his hands tomy hips and lifts them higher while staying in me. "Trust me, okay?"

I nod. "Okay."

"Stay as still as you can."

"Okay."

Holding me hovering a few inches from his body, he starts jackhammering into me. I'm still on top, but he's doing all the work.

It's funny. All my life, I've suppressed myself. I felt like I had to hide who I was. But right now, here in this moment with Fitz, I feel more free, more myself, more safe, than I ever have.

I know that I can tell him anything, and he'll still love me, whether he agrees with me or not. I can come up with the craziest, most outlandish ideas, and he'll support me. And if I make a mistake, if I stumble and fall, he'll always have my back and help me to my feet again.

That's true love.

Because real love doesn't come with strings. It doesn't only exist when certain, specific conditions and criteria are met. Real love comes from a place deeper than that.

Speaking of deeper…

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