Page 37 of Endangered Species
“You okay?” Cy asked, more concerned with Nicky’s emotional health than any physical pain.
When Nicky looked at him, his blue eyes shining, Cy could see he wasn’t okay, not really. “I-Fuck, I just feel so full of you.” He rocked himself forward, his lips finding Cy’s as he said, “I just need you, okay?”
“You have me,” Cy promised, not sure what Nicky even meant.
Nicky couldn’t sit all the way up, but it didn’t matter. He melded his mouth to Cy’s, rolling his hips in a way that had Cy seeing stars. He let Nicky set the pace, and it was a brutal one. He rode Cy like he was trying to suck the soul out of him with his tight fucking hole, but the whole time, he just kept telling Cy he loved him, he needed him, he didn’t want to be without him, his voice cracking, tears flowing down his face.
Cy stopped trying to examine Nicky’s emotions and just let himself feel his own. He didn’t reciprocate Nicky’s words but not because he didn’t feel the same way. Nicky was just already so mentally fragile, Cy worried his words might break him, and he’d been through enough. So, he contented himself with touching him.
He ran his hands over Nicky’s soft skin, his muscular thighs, the generous swell of his ass. He tried to memorize the feel of his lips and the taste of his skin until it no longer felt like two people saying goodbye but one body as they moved in perfect sync with each other, lips parted, breathing each other’s air more than kissing. This was about so much more than getting off. It was about saying goodbye, and the thought hit him like a sledgehammer.
He rolled Nicky beneath him, resting his forearms gingerly on either side of Nicky’s head, cognizant of his cast. Nicky locked his arms and legs around Cy, hands gripping Cy’s ass, like he could crawl inside him if Nicky just tried hard enough.
“Fuck me harder. Breed me,” Nicky begged against Cy’s ear. “I want to feel you inside me for days. Please.”
So bossy. Cy caught Nicky’s knees over his elbows, using his good arm to bear his weight as he drove into Nicky over and over again, the sound of his gasps and moans driving him harder and faster until Nicky finally reached between them and began to jerk himself in time with Cy’s thrusts. That was all it took; he couldn’t stop his orgasm as it slammed into him. He could only pump his load into Nicky, grinding his hips against him in some primal need to mark him somehow.
Cy pulled free of Nicky, still kneeling between his legs, spreading his thighs so he could shove three fingers back inside him, feeling his cum already leaking from Nicky’s sloppy hole. When Cy’s fingers found Nicky’s prostate, he started to ride his fingers, babbling all kinds of dirty things about Cy and the things he did to him, the things he wanted him to do to him someday, until he was spilling over his fist, his whole body shivering.
Cy kept his fingers inside Nicky long after they’d both come, fascinated by the shivers and moans he could pull from him just by playing with him. Nicky never refused him, even when he was oversensitive.
Finally, Nicky gave a soft laugh and said, “If you’re trying to get me hard again, I think I’m going to need a few minutes.”
Cy leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Nicky’s lips, before pulling free and wandering to the sink, using a cloth to clean himself up before bringing it back to Nicky and doing the same. It was weird having to do everything with his non-dominant hand, but he imagined fucking Nicky would be the least of his worries after today.
In just a few hours, Nicky would be gone. Cy crashed onto the mattress and gathered Nicky into his arms. A half an hour passed before Nicky broke their bubble of silence. “I need to tell you something, and I need you to promise you won’t be mad.”
Suddenly, Cy felt like he had snakes in his belly. “If this is the part where you tell me you’re secretly married with children, I can’t promise that,” Cy joked, even though the idea made him a little sick.
“No, shut up. I need to tell you why I’m getting out tomorrow and why you’re getting out, too. But you probably won’t like it.”
“Okay,” Cy said warily.
He listened as Nicky explained what his program had found, what he discussed with the warden, what happened next. When he finished speaking, he asked, “Are you mad?”
Cy was stunned, confused, even a little betrayed, but…mad? “Mad that you traded our freedom for the lives of six hundred and forty-three others who were either wrongfully accused or received harsher sentences than they should have? What do you want me to say to that, Nicky?”
Nicky sat up on one elbow. “I want you to say that you trust me, that you trust that I have a plan where everybody gets exactly what they deserve. Can you do that?”
Cy sighed, looking up into Nicky’s crystal blue eyes. The truth was he’d follow Nicky into hell with no regrets. “I can do that.”
The look of relief on Nicky’s face soothed Cy’s frayed nerves. “Please, don’t get dead out there, Nicky. These are very dangerous people you’re playing with.”
Nicky gave Cy a chaste kiss on the mouth before snuggling closer. “Out there, I’m the dangerous one.”
Webster wasn’t one for being dramatic, but the feel of his real clothes, his watch on his wrist, the weight of his cell phone in his hand…it was enough to make him weep. He wanted to whip off his shoes and let his feet feel the grass. He wanted to stand outside and let the breeze blow through his hair. Every single thing he’d taken for granted for years seemed precious now.
Maybe it was leaving Cy that had him so emotional or maybe it was just tasting freedom once again. Either way, seeing Linc and Wyatt standing outside the prison, leaning against their car waiting for him, had him crashing into their arms, like they were reuniting after years instead of just weeks. He was grateful he didn’t cry. Wyatt would never let him live it down.
Wyatt didn’t put his seatbelt on once they were in the car. He got on his knees so he could peer at Webster over the back of his seat with wide eyes, taking in his bruises and black-framed glasses with something akin to horror. “Jesus, Webby. You look like dog shit, bro.”
“Wyatt!” Linc barked, making Webster smile.
Wyatt had spent years of his life being repressed by his politician father, and now, he had no filter. “What? Are we just going to ignore that he looks homeless?” Wyatt asked his husband, blinking up at the older man with mock innocence. Linc didn’t answer, just gave a long-suffering sigh. Wyatt seemed to clearly consider that a win as he turned back to Webster. “Are you really boning your brother? What’s he look like? How old is he? How did it all happen? Congrats on managing to be the only guy in prison who actually got to have the kind of sex he wanted, by the way.”
“Jesus Christ,” Linc muttered to himself, but Webster laughed.
It was such a relief to be out in the world without chains or guards or the fear of being raped and murdered. “I’ll tell you everything after I’ve showered and shaved and put on comfortable clothes and maybe rolled around on my mattress for a while. I’m sure it’s missed me as much as I’ve missed it.”
