Page 108 of Clean Slade
“Yes,” he said with a heavy, rushed breath and unbuttoned my pants, slipped my underwear off until I was naked before him.
He was way too dressed for this, but not for long.
He stripped in two rushed steps and lay in bed next to me with a heavy groan that I felt all the way down to the root.
He palmed our dicks together, licked my lips, my nipples, every part of me I wanted him to lick, each bringing me so close to satisfaction that I stayed still for fear of bursting at the seams if I moved even an eyelid.
And through it all, Slade looked at me, checked on me, breathed on me as if I was his world, his own personal sun that gave him life.
I’d spent so long keeping him alive in my head and in my fantasies, but nothing—nothing—compared to actually having him near me, over me…
In me.
“Fuck me,” I told him all too eagerly before I realized I was way too loud and slapped my mouth shut with both hands.
“What?” he whispered back, a little glow reflecting in his eyes as he looked at me.
“Fuck me, Slade. I need you inside me. It’s been way too long.” I managed to somehow keep my voice down this time, but the despair was still clear.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. He smiled and came down to me for a kiss before I told him where the lube and condoms I’d purchased earlier this week were, and moments later, his fingers were deep inside me, stretching me, teasing me, burning me.
“Please, Slade. Just fuck me already. I don’t know how much longer I can hold off. I need you inside me when I come.”
And it wasn’t a lie. There was so much precum on my stomach we could have probably used it as lube.
I’d never been like this, felt like this. But now that I had, I didn’t know why I hadn’t done anything about it before, why I became this celibate, single dad as if having sex would threaten my safety or something.
But maybe this was why. Maybe my body and mind had just been waiting to be reunited withhim.
Slade.
Slade, who looked at me as if I was his own personal saint. Slade, who held me like I was his most precious treasure. Slade, who seemed to only breathe or exist for me.
Fuck!
He pushed his tip into my slicked muscle, and I just about died right there, right then. Every inch of him pushing inside me fit as if I’d been made for him. Like he was reclaiming a part of me. Parts of me that had been reserved—unwittingly—for him and only him.
His gaze never wavered from mine. His thumb never stopped rubbing my cheekbone. He breathed only when I did. And he only came when I came, the heat shooting inside me scorching the old me, everything that had happened once upon a time, and giving birth to a new me. A new King. A real King. A King who only lived for his Slade.
Yeah, whatever we’d done in the restroom of Black Lotus was nothing in comparison. That had been a mind-altering, earth-shattering experience. The motivation I’d needed to get my life back into my hands.
But this?
This was becoming one.
And the only thing I wanted was to lose myself in him so we would always be this way.
I just hoped he wouldn’t come to regret coming into my life.
TWENTY-SIX
KING
That Saturday, we got up early, had breakfast, and set off for Duke’s Sanctuary.
That whole week had been the longest of my life. Not only did I have to request more drugs from my Salieri contact and pick it up, but I had to tame my anger so I didn’t punch a wall while also trying to keep it in my pants with Mac around the house when all I wanted to do was mount Slade every moment.
