Page 18 of Forever Not Yours

And I think that was it, where my senses went out the window, because I could feel him, all of him, and this was not what was supposed to happen. Absolutely not.

My hand was doing the thinking for me, cupping his junk through his joggers, his dick rock hard under my gentle fondling. This wasn’t a new boner; this was one he’d probably nursed since I walked through the door. I wondered if I’d done that to him, if I turned him on. Did I? I think I liked his dick—big, long, excellent girth. I remembered it well, and I smiled through the sensations pulsing through me. Since when did Jake turn me on like this? I had no idea, but he was breathing oddly, and I was rubbing my groin against his. Weird, him being bigger and me smaller.But here we were, his neck stretched back as I found myself kissing down his clavicle, having ripped away his scrubs, him seemingly leaning into me, or maybe I was trying to climb him, reach all those places I wanted to reach.

My tongue wanted his neck, licking a little line up behind his ear.

“Bast…” he started, but I cut him off, mauling his mouth. Perhaps it was only something I did to stop him talking, to stop the conversation we would inevitably have. But this was just what we were now, when he was kissing me right back, greedy with need, likeIneeded. Fuck, I needed.

He had given me exactly what I’d craved the other night, taken everything from me in a swift couple of minutes, fucked me like nobody had ever fucked me before, and I wanted it again.

I wanted to know what his stubble would feel like against my arse. I wanted to know what his dick tasted like. I wanted to be wanted the way he had wanted me, because yes, this was not new to me, buthewas, and he was so incredibly different from encountersI’d had before.

Maybe because he was just Jake, maybe because he was shaking in my arms, which were slung around his neck as he once again kissed me, his large hands on my naked arse as he held me up against the wall, mouth on mouth, his heartbeat strong against my chest. I could feel it, every fucking beat. I’d lost the towel, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“You know you want to,” I panted out. It was the only way I knew to do this, riling him up, making him do things that were against everything Jake was, breaking him like he was breaking me.

“We’re not doing this again.” He didn’t sound very sure.

“Do it,” I insisted.

He growled in response, a low sound from somewhere deep in his chest. He would normally throw his hands in the air and vent whatever frustration he was struggling with—a math problem, a particularly difficult patient, Flossie pooping on the floor—all scenarios that would produce a similar growl, but this was different. This was… Fuck.

“This would be a good time to say no, if you don’t want this to go where it’s going.”

“Not saying no.”

“I have no condoms, no supplies at home.”

“Fine with me.”

“Consent is a thing, Bastien.”

“Well stop fucking talking and do it.” I sounded more desperate than was wise, but there was nothing I could do about that now, as he swung me around so that my chest landed flat on the marble kitchen island, the stone cold against my skin, his hands hot and firm on my hips. Then, movement. He wanted to say no, I could feel it, but he was trembling with need and pushing his pants down, the sound of fabric against skin, a snap of elastic, his knee spreading my thighs as my dick jumped, tapping against my leg.

I wanted to touch myself, but I was too shell-shocked to do anything at this point, too turned on to function, because yes, he turned me on.Thisturned me on. I had no control, and he was everything.

The weight of his hand left me for a moment, cool air suddenly whooshing over my back and jolting me back to the reality of my situation.

Bastien Dewaert, splayed out on a kitchen counter, my dick trembling, my legs shaking and my arse twitching.

I wasn’t gay. That was a bit of an issue here, but I wasn’t about to protest. I lived for this shit, absolutely loved it, breathed every day hoping to once again get to feel like this. Completely…

Fuck, fuck.

His fingers pushed my arse cheeks apart, his panted breaths hot on my trembling skin.

“Jake!” I gasped in shock, or surprise, as something squirted out of the tip of my dick, a surge through me I couldn’t control.

“Gonna eat your arse,” he growled, his stubble scratching my skin, “and you’re going to be good.”

How the fuck did he know what to say to make me moan like this, like I wanted this (I did), like I had asked for it. (I hadn’t out loud, but how the hell had he known?)

His tongue felt insane, strong and intense as warm wetness kissed my skin, tracing my opening with long drawn-out strokes, his hands on my arse, kneading, fingers spreading me apart to the point I felt I mightsplit, hard movements, deep growls, my hips trying to hump the slab of marble like an idiot. I would have bruises after this.

I didn’t care.

“Oh, fuck!” I yelled as his tongue breached me, deep, wet warmth making me shiver as I gripped the sides of the worktop, trying to hold on as he fucked me with his tongue.

“I’m…” I panted. “Close,”

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