Page 43 of Benji

“You came?” I asked, the words out before my brain could stop them. “I missed that. Sorry.”

He smeared it some more, giving me a wicked smile. “Fuck yes, I came. Like the second you entered me. I told you I needed it.”

I laughed, surprised. “You are a little sex imp, aren’t you?”

He grinned, his tongue licking his bottom lip. His sleep-messed curls and glittering eyes were a dangerous combination. “I told you I’m a sexual person, Nolan. I love it. And taking you raw, having your come inside me...” He closed his eyes and hummed. “And you’re gonna do it all day? You’re spoiling me.”

I scoffed because I wasn’t entirely sure he thought he was the one getting spoiled. “You begging for it is spoiling me too.”

He preened a little, but then his gaze went down my body. “Hm. How much recovery time are we talking here? You’ll need snacks to keep your energy up. Maybe some electrolytes.”

I barked out a laugh. “You make it sound like I’m prepping for a marathon.”

He gently booped my nose with his fingertip. “Correct.” Then he rolled out of bed and sauntered toward the bathroom. “Joining me in the shower?”

I groaned. “I’ll need to call my work first.”

I heard the shower start, and he called out. “Don’t take too long, Mr O’Brien. I’m an impatient man.”

I chuckled because, hell yes, he was. And I was ridiculously happy to let him boss me around. I wasn’t sure I recognised this version of me.

Calling in sick to work so I could spend the entire day having sex.

The best sex of my life.

But still... who was I, and what the hell was I thinking?

I was entitled to paid sick days. But this was out of character for me. So unlike me.

Maybe the thrill of playing hooky was part of the appeal. I felt naughty, like a delinquent. I’d followed every rule, every straight line my entire life. This was new, and exciting. A rush.

It felt good.

I emailed the office a very short and succinct note.

Am unwell today. Apologies. Taking a sick day.

Then I put my phone on silent and followed Benji into the shower.

The first flatsurface was the kitchen counter. We’d managed a light breakfast and got as far as cleaning up.

It didn’t help that Benji wore nothing but his briefs. At least I’d opted for sweatpants. Both were easy to pull down when Benji had bent himself over the kitchen counter.

I tried to be mindful of his hips and the hard counter edge, but god, putting a second load into him was almost as fast as the first one had been.

He was a siren to me.

His body called to me in ways I’d never known.

The third time was mid-afternoon, on the sofa. Him on his knees facing the balcony with me taking him doggystyle, hoping no neighbours could see us, kinda wishing they would.

I wanted people to watch as I fucked him.

Afterward, he lay lengthways on the couch, his briefs still around his thighs. He reached around and gave his arse cheek a wobble. “I’m so full of your seed,” he murmured.

I came back with a washcloth, sat on the edge of the sofa, and gently wiped his arse cheeks. “Did you want to have another shower?”

“No. I want to keep it inside me.”

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