Page 87 of Beau Pair
I let go of our cocks and give my hand another generous pump of lube, smearing it over his asshole and prepping him for me. We’ve done this so many times, and we’ll do it a thousand more, yet it never gets boring.
Every time is like the first time with him. Every time feels just like that first time, in this room, with him on his knees in front of me, measuring me.
How could I have been so lucky? I've been looking for the man of my dreams all my life, and I’ve kissed way too many frogs in the pursuit. I’ve done it all. The club scene, the forums, the cruising, the dating—blind and otherwise—the hookup apps. And yet the one,my one, walks into my house one day for an interview.
It’s like that first day all those months ago. He was interviewing for my heart and not just a simple job.
That will make an excellent speech one day at our wedding.
Beau moans as my fingers slide in and out of him, opening him up and brushing over his prostate, and he lubes his own digits to finger me too. An action that makes my cock pulse.
I need him. Need his hole and my release. I take my fingers out and push the real thing into him and start pounding. He feels too tight and my cock too taut, and I know I won’t last long, but I’ll be damned if I don’t give him what he needs.
His eyes never leave mine, his hands roaming freely across my back, his lips quivering with every thrust. I can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest and that only drives me deeper into him. Softer, slower, and deeper, until we’re one.
I spill inside him, and Beau matches me moan for moan. Then I collapse over him, my head resting on his chest where I can listen to his heartbeat and feel it as if it were mine.
We lie there for a few silent moments, catching our breath until Beau starts grinding on me, his cock still hard under me, and I decide to deliver on the promise. I sit on him and let him fuck me, claim me as his just like I’ve claimed him mine, and by the time we’re done, we’re a wet mess.
“God, I love you, Beaumont Fleur,” I tell him, looking into his eyes and stroking his cheek with my thumb.
We’re lying next to each other in my bed. Our bed. He props his head up on the pillow, using his hand for support, and massages my shoulder. “I love you too, Gordon Davis.” He smiles.
That radiant smile of his that gives me hope and strength every time I see it. That same smile I’m addicted to.
“I’m sorry for keeping you a secret,” I tell him.
Beau frowns.
“What are you talking about? Am I a secret? I didn’t know.”
“I mean from the University.”
Beau moves closer and brushes his lips to mine.
“But I understand. That’s not hiding me. It’s protecting your private life. Our privacy,” he says, and it makes me a little sad that I haven’t been entirely honest.
“I may have lied a little,” I tell him. “It wasn’t entirely to protect my private life.”
“You were trying to protect your reputation in case this didn’t work out,” he says, and I frown.
“How-how do you know?”
Beau smiles and slaps my cheek playfully.
“I may be twenty-one, sweetie, but I’m not stupid.”
“I’m sorry. I should have trusted—”
He shushes me and places two fingers over my lips. Then he kisses my nose.
“It’s fine, silly. I would have done the same thing. You think I expected you to throw your entire life under the bus on a whim? Even if that whim had my body and cock?”
I laugh and pull him in for a kiss. A proper one.
“What did I do to ever deserve you?” I ask him when we pry away from each other.
“You must have been a really nice person in a past life. Like a prostitute or something.” I raise a brow, and he gapes. “What? Prostitutes were really nice in ancient times. They were slutty and educated and so smart. They were all the rage.”
