Page 125 of The Good Boys Club

I said nothing. Cian didn’t need to know that since the Winter Fest party on Howl’s roof, I hadn’t enjoyed sex with anyone other than myself. He didn’t need to know I’d thought only of him, or that the few times I’d had sex, I’d pictured his face. That in order to bring myself to completion, I had to imagine I was with him.

And I was only just figuring out that all the women I’d dated post drunken rooftop confession were my futile and half-assed attempts to move on. Maybe I was fooling myself into thinking I could have something even remotely similar to Bangers and Mash with another person.

Maybe I thought I could find someone I loved as much as Cian.

What a fucking idiot I’d been. And now I was about to mess up the first real—and possibly only—opportunity to feel him inside me.

Not happening. I could have my existential crises another time.

Like after the Hunter’s Moon in twenty-nine days’ time. When Cian would be back in Remy and I’d be sitting on my alpha throne, lording it over everyone, and crying like a newborn baby with a shitty nappy.

But not right now. Right now, I was about to live out a fantasy I’d had for . . . probably fifteen years.

I wound my filthy fingers into his hair. “We’re still fucking, yeah?”

“You want to?”

To answer his question, I closed the gap between our bodies and guided his head down to my shoulder. To the crook of my damp neck. He inhaled.

He ran the metal chain of the leash through his fingertips. “Okay, yes, we’re fucking right now. Get on your knees.”

“Are you getting naked?” I asked.

“No time.”

Damn, why was that so hot?

I bit my knuckles, barely suppressed a groan, and dropped to the bath mat, internally thanking whoever had chosen such a fluffy, plush cushion for my kneecaps.

Cian knelt beside me. “Mash, I’m gonna have to come inside you.” He closed his eyes, paused, groaned. It gave me enough opportunity to commit that sentence, his voice, the desperate look in his eye to memory. “Because—”

“Believe it or not, I know how knots work,” I said.

He nodded. “Obviously. I was just making sure you were on board.”

“I’m so fucking on board. I’ve never been more on board in my life. Never wanted anything as much as I want you to fuck me into the bathroom floor.” I was hard again. Aching.

Cian kissed me on the lips, then pivoted my body away from his. I felt rather than saw him move closer to me, and heard him inhaling. Then he pressed a gentle hand between my shoulder blades and pushed me onto my hands so I was on all fours. The chain clunked against the mat.

His hands caressed my hips and buttocks. He reached between my legs and stroked my knots, my balls, my taint, and then his fingers were on my hole, drawing soft, teasing circles along my entrance.

“I’m gonna stretch you. I don’t think you’ll need a lot, but since this is your first time with a guy—and especially a guy with a knot—I want you to be as prepared as possible. I won’t be theone to hurt you. At any time, if it’s too much, tell me. I’ll let you know before my knot inflates, so we don’t hit that point of no return without your full consent.”

“Okay,” I replied, trying to work out how I could back up straight onto his cock, or his finger, or anything.

But I didn’t need to because the next second I heard the squelch of the lube in his hand, and a finger slipped inside me.

“Holy fuck, Mash, we’re really doing this,” he said, his voice strained. He pulled out part way and pushed it in again, curled the tip. This time downwards.

I cried out, dropped to my elbows, and pillowed my forehead on my forearms. “More. Give me more,” I whined.

Cian added another finger, like he’d done at the lake. Fuck, it felt good. He pumped them, slowly at first, gradually increasing his pace.

“I’m gonna add a third now,” he said, breathless, and I felt even more stretched as another of Cian’s fingers slipped inside me. “Gods, Mash, you are so perfect. So fucking incredible. Such a good fucking boy. I know you’re gonna take my knot so well.” He already sounded out of breath and he wasn’t even moving yet.

My piss-sodden tail flicked up over my back and swished left and right, the cold, damp tip gliding over my bare skin. The chain from my collar hung down between my arms, coiling on the bath mat.

Cian removed his fingers. “I’m just gonna . . .” And then I heard the squelching again. After a few more moments, he hooked a hand around my hip and the head of his cock nudged at my entrance.

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