Page 36 of Mayfly

I follow a second later, my own pleasure crashing down on me as I unload inside him; my name choked from his lips.

I find his chin and kiss him.

His taste floods my mouth as I remain deep inside him, not ready to part.

Curren’s eyes flutter open, more like a princess than a tattooed man who’s done time behind bars. So I tighten my hold on him protectively, keeping him flushed against me—our sweat and his cum sticking us together.

Our breathing syncs for a long silent moment, his heartbeat thumping against my chest.

It’s too intimate, this closeness. Too real. I hate it as much as I crave it, because I’m still mad as fuck that I might never have felt it if I didn’t walk into that pub.

If I wasn’t forced into this mission.

If I didn’t come home.

“When did you get it done?” Curren asks. His voice is soft, and I’m thankful that he’s the one to break the silence that’s surrounded us for most of the past four hours. We showered together; kissed and held each other under the streaming water for way too long, like this is the way we’ve always been.

My hand reaches for his as he skims the tattoo on my ribs. “When I got out of prison.”

Curren lifts his head from my chest. “Prison? When the fuck did yo—“

“Straight from juvie.” I push his head back down to rest against me. “You’d have known that if you hadn’t ignored me.” He tries to sit, but I hold him down. “Don’t think I’m ever gonna stop riding your ass for that… I’ll make you regret it for the rest of your life.”

I can feel Curren’s cheek swell against my chest as he smiles. “If you‘ll always fuck me like that, I’d be happy to keep reminding you.”

“What if I don’t wanna do all the fucking?”

This time I let Curren move, and he crawls on top of me. The length of our clean, naked bodies press together until his legs fall off to my sides and he sits up—excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Wanna try it now?”

I drag my hands up through the hairs on his legs. “Dinner will be here soon.”

He takes my right hand and puts it on his dick. “Let them watch.”

Tempting as it is, making someone watch is still sexual assault, and I like my job far too much to lose it. So I crawl the fingers of the other up his chest, over the welted scars stained with ink, to his necklace. “When did you getthisdone?”

Curren releases my hand and I slide it back to his thigh. Clasping the chain, he tugs the pendant from me and looks down at it. “After my first job.”

“What was it?”

His eyes widen slightly. “Just general, manual shit. Whatever I could pick up.”

“Was it expensive?”

“It wasn’t cheap.”

Reaching out again, I run my thumb over the smooth gold plating that covers the tiny Stormtrooper figurine I’d given him when he was ten. Or maybe I was ten. So many things from backthen have blurred together. “If I’d known, I would have done everything I could to find you.”

With his palms against my chest, Curren leans down and whispers, “Same,” against my lips before kissing me.

It’s insane how different it feels to the previous ones. At the park there was so much tension. Then frustration and rage fueled us on. But now, it feels like I’ve never actually been kissed until this exact moment.

Curren's forearm falls to the mattress, and he forces my legs apart with his own only to straddle one of them.

Unable to resist, I grope his ass then still my hand so I can feel the tense and release of his muscles as he rides my thigh.

I have so many questions I still want to ask. Was he ever married—fuck, is he married now? Does he have any kids? What does he do for work that can afford him a five thousand pound suit? But… Do I really need to know the answers?

For right now, while we’re here, will they change anything?

---