Always Mine

by James, J. P.

  Conor can barely answer, but his eyes flutter open as his butt takes me so good. “Yes,” he manages with a trembling voice. “You feel so amazing inside of me.” I suck on a hard male nipple while pumping into his ass, and I can feel his body jerking. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” he calls.

  But it’s too soon. I want to play with this gorgeous man longer.

  “Turn around,” I say, pulling my dick out from his ass. It’s huge and glistening, dripping with my pre-cum. Conor’s eyes go wide, but immediately, he quickly flips over, arching his back and burying his face in the pillow. I grab hold of his hips and thrust my cock deep inside of his asshole. A muffled cry sounds out from the pillow, but Conor takes my entire length in one try.

  “You butt slut,” I growl. “You’re such a fucking slut, taking my cock like this.”

  Conor murmurs something unintelligible, but I don’t care. He’s enjoying this, and the sight of my cock disappearing repeatedly in his ass pushes me over the edge. Our bodies join as one in the country night, and the flame between us burns brighter than the New York City lights. He moans as we heat up the room with our fiery passion. Grunts slip from my lips as I stroke his tight anus with my cock.

  Conor takes it like a pro. I stroke faster and his blissful moans force me over the edge. Suddenly, a warm stream of milky white blasts out of my massive cock inside his body, spraying his channel. Simultaneously, he lets out a low, throaty moan, and his cock twitches before spewing gallons of hot sperm onto the coverlet. Oh shit, oh shit. My body collapses on top of his as my heart races as fast as a speeding bullet. I kiss the back of his sweaty neck as I try to catch my breath. We both pant and our bodies remain as one as my cock pulsates inside his tiny, tight ass.

  I roll over on my back and hold him tight to me on top of the Egyptian cotton sheets. His hair falls into my face, but I don’t mind because he smells musky with the scent of a just-satisfied male. I inhale deeply, basking with satisfaction. Conor nuzzles his body against mine and I pull him tighter to my frame, never wanting to let him go. I could lay like this forever. I gently kiss his shoulder.

  “I love the way your lips feel against my skin,” he murmurs. I kiss his neck this time, still holding him tight. He quivers a bit in my arms, and I address the white elephant in the room.

  “This isn’t a one-night stand Conor. I want to get to know you and I want to be a part of your life,” I confess. “There’s been a horrible tragedy today, but what we did isn’t wrong. You’re a widower now, so you’re a free man.”

  Silence for a moment.

  “I know,” my lover says in a low voice. “But don’t you feel bad?”

  I sigh. “Yeah, I do,” is my admission. “But I’ve been single for so long. I’ve been out with so many men, and it was all pointless. Now that I’ve found you, I’m not going to let you go.”

  Conor quivers a bit in my arms.

  “But Smithtown is small,” he says. “If anyone finds out about you and me, they’ll think that we’re horrible people.” I chuckle low in my throat.

  “Who cares? There’s a whole world outside of Smithtown,” I say. “Let me show it to you. You don’t have to confine yourself to this part of the country.”

  He goes quiet, as mute as a mouse. I get why Conor’s worried. His whole life is here and the neighbors would gossip if they found out that he slept with his deceased husband’s friend the night Ryan died. I’ll admit it, even I feel like we’ve committed a forbidden sin, but it felt so right, like it was meant to happen. What are the odds that we both would be drawn to each other? Neither of us could resist one another, and our bodies collided so naturally like they belonged together.

  “Aren’t you going back to New York?” he finally asks.

  “I don’t have to go back right away,” I say. “I own my own brokerage firm, so I can work from anywhere in the world. I can stay here with you, for as long as you’ll have me.” Conor grows silent again and I can tell he’s contemplating my offer. I don’t want to leave him just yet. The man of my dreams just walked into my life, so it’s going to be pretty damn hard to hop on a plane and leave him behind, drama or no drama.

  “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” Anxiously, I wait for his response. Finally, he decides to stop torturing me.

  “I want you to stay,” Conor says in a slow voice. Relief floods my heart and I pull his frame closer to mine. How can something so wrong feel so right? But that’s the thing. Ryan is gone now, so this isn’t wrong. It happened fast, but no hearts were broken along the way. No one cheated, and Conor didn’t violate his marriage vows.

  This isn’t the way I expected to find love, but I can tell there’s something special between Conor and me, something I’ve never had with anyone else before. I’ve had plenty of “dates” in my lifetime, but none of them compare to this man. I started falling for him before I even knew his name. As I watched him glide down the aisle, I secretly wished I was the one waiting at the altar for him. I envied Ryan when they exchanged vows.

  So yes, despite the fact that it was their wedding day, my heart claimed Conor as mine the moment our eyes connected. Something in me knew he was for me, even if he was technically with someone else at the time. I will make this happen because I’ve waited too long for this man, and I’m not going to give it all up just because of what people might say.

  8

  Conor

  I stare at a piece of stationary from the hotel last night. Below the hotel’s fancy crest, Bryce’s name and phone number are written neatly in the center in blue ink. I want to call the phone number so badly, but I can’t muster up the courage to give into my desires. It’s been a week since we made love in his hotel suite and we haven’t spoken since. Oh god. Does he hate me for what I’ve done?

  I’ve been beating myself up over the fact that I slept with my husband’s friend the same night my husband passed away. How could I do such a thing? I feel horrible about what happened, but it felt so good at the time. I was caught in the heat of the moment and I loved every second of it. But now that it’s done I feel guilty. Am I a bad person for giving into temptation?

  I know it shouldn’t have happened, but Bryce was so hard to resist. His eyes were caring as he tended to me in my time of need. I cried in his arms as he held my hand, and made me feel safe. His touch made my pain disappear, even if a different pain is here to replace it now. I wasn’t expecting Bryce to make a move, but those lips sent tingles all throughout my body and in that moment, I was completely his. We both felt guilty and tried to fight our feelings, but the heart wants what it wants.

  But now what? I haven’t talked to him in a week. I’ve been staring at his number like a man possessed, yet I never dial my cell. I thought that if I avoided Bryce, my attraction to him would go away, but that hasn’t happened. The more time passes, the more I want to stare into his piercing blue eyes and kiss that perfectly sculpted mouth. Is it wrong to crave him inside of me again, stroking until I come all over his enormous shaft? Gosh, just thinking about the way he made me take it all gets my cock twitching, and now I really want to call him. He satisfied all my needs in one night and left me craving more. He touched me in ways I’ve never been touched before and I’m desperate for that hard body again.

  I glance over at my wedding tux hanging from my closet door and I stuff the small piece of paper back into my night stand with an unhappy sigh. I can’t call Bryce. My husband just died and his mother is on her way to help me plan his funeral. How can I even think these thoughts? Plus, I miss Ryan every single day and still can’t believe he’s gone. Sometimes when my phone rings I think it’s my husband calling, but then I snap back into reality and remember that he’s dead. We were supposed to be on our honeymoon right now, but instead I’ve been moping alone at home.

  It’s sad in this small house that once saw so much laughter. Of course, I had my doubts about marrying Ryan, but I never wanted anything bad to happen to him! It hurts to know that he’s gone and never coming back. His cowboy hat i
s still hanging next to my front door. He wore that damn thing everywhere because that’s how much he loved being a farmer. He had plans of owning his own ranch one day and living a simple life with me by his side, but now none of that matters. I wish I could bring Ryan back, but I can’t.

  I blink wearily at the clock sitting on top of my nightstand. Nancy should be here any minute now. She’s a doll. I’m the one supposed to be handling the funeral arrangements, but I’m too broken over Ryan’s death to plan anything right now. As a result, his mom’s taking over, even though she’s in bad shape too.

  I haven’t eaten in days and I feel like my muscle is wasting away. I just keep thinking back to the night I slept with Bryce, but it only makes me feel guilty. Yet in a way, Bryce kept me sane because I might’ve lost my mind the night Ryan died if I’d been left alone. He rushed to my rescue, saving me from my own personal destruction. Now I need him more than ever, but I’m afraid to call him. What if everyone finds out that we made love? They’d crucify me if they knew the hot and dirty things Bryce and I did together. The steamy sex that we had would make all hell break loose in this town. Ryan wasn’t even dead for a full twenty-four hours before I climbed into bed with a man I just met.

  We hardly know each other, but it feels like I’ve known Bryce my whole life. The sex was amazing, but there’s something else between us, something that draws us to one another. A force greater than any I’ve ever experienced. That kind of passion only comes around once in a lifetime, so I can’t let it pass me by. But indulging in Bryce is like eating a piece of forbidden fruit. It’s taboo.

  I open the nightstand drawer again and stare down at his phone number. I’ve looked at it so many times, that at this point I know it by heart. My head is telling me to forget all about him, but my heart is begging me to call. I don’t know what to do and I don’t have anyone I can talk to about this. If my friends knew that I slept with Bryce on my wedding night, I’d be the talk of our tiny town. I have to keep this to myself.

  On the other hand, if I don’t call, I can just pretend like this never happened. Bryce lives all the way in New York City, so I’ll probably never see him again. In fact, chances are that he’s caught a flight back to Manhattan already. He’s probably sitting in his big comfy corner office in some tall skyscraper right now, looking over documents or something. I bet he’s already forgotten about me and our illicit affair.

  The ringing doorbell startles me and I jerk reflexively. I slam the drawer shut, hiding Bryce’s phone number once again. It’s just a piece of paper, but I feel like he’s my biggest secret and I have to keep it locked away. I sluggishly drag my feet toward the front door. I’m sure Nancy is on the other side and I’m in no big rush to pick out a casket for Ryan. I know he’s no longer alive, but putting him in the ground confirms the fact that he’s dead, and that’s something that makes my stomach clench on itself. I take a deep breath as I turn the doorknob. Sure enough, it’s Nancy. Her once bright eyes are now dim and she hunches over as if her heart is weighing her chest down.

  “Hey sweetie,” she says in a low melancholy voice. I hate seeing my mother-in-law like this. She’s usually a bubbly woman that wears a smile everywhere she goes, but Ryan’s death has really taken a toll on her. The woman seems to have aged twenty years since that fateful day.

  “Hey Nancy, come in,” I manage, holding the door open for her. Her hands are full of brochures and pamphlets with headstones and caskets on the front of them. I don’t want to think about burying Ryan, but giving him a proper funeral is the right thing to do. I close the door behind the middle-aged woman and take a seat next to her on the couch. Nancy spreads the brochures and pamphlets out on the table and I can feel a knot forming in my stomach. As always, she can sense that something is wrong.

  “I know this whole thing has been hard on you,” she says in a low, trembling voice. “No spouse should have to lose a husband on their wedding day. I’m sorry that this happened to you.” Tears form in her eyes and I can tell she needs comfort way more than I do right now. I wrap my arms around her tightly and place my head on her shoulder.

  “Thank you. It’s been hard on me, but I know you’ve had a lot to deal with as well. You two were always so close. Ryan really cherished his relationship with you,” I say. She can’t fight her tears anymore and her eyes leak as sorrow sweeps over her. I tighten my grip around her stout form as my eyes shed teardrops as well.

  “Ryan was my baby,” she says, her voice cracking each word. “I just … I can’t believe he’s gone.” I wish I knew what to say to make everything better, but there are no words that can fill the aching maw inside. “I’m sorry,” she says, wiping away her tears.

  “Don’t be,” is my reply.

  “No, I’m being selfish right now. Your heart is just as broken as mine is. You need someone here to help you get through this,” she says. She’s right, I do need someone to help me get over my loss, and that someone is Bryce. He was there for me the night that it all happened and he took care of me. The brawny man carried me in his arms after I passed out in front of the bar, and then later he pleased my body in ways I didn’t even know were possible.

  I’m the one who’s acting like a selfish asshole right now. I should be mourning the loss of my husband instead of secretly reminiscing about the night I spent with his friend. I clench my knees together as my cock twitches, remembering the way Bryce owned my body. Bryce took me to Heaven and beyond.

  By contrast, Ryan was shy and wasn’t into trying anything new when it came to sex. He was a one and done type of guy. I wanted to try so many things with him, but he wasn’t into experimenting. Sex with him was rather boring and I usually only enjoyed the first couple of minutes. Plus, until my night with Bryce, I never felt a man’s lips kiss me down there. The sensation made my body feel like I was about to explode, and eventually I did. By contrast, Ryan never made me come. It’s sad, but the truth. I never had an orgasm with my husband.

  I want to rush Nancy out of here, and dial Bryce’s number so he can come over and make sweet passionate love to me all over again. My body feels weak without him and I’ve tossed and turned every evening in my bed since the night in his hotel suite. I want to believe what happened between us was a mistake, but deep down inside I feel like it was meant to be. Fate brought us together. The passion I feel for Bryce burns as bright as the sun, and I need to feel it at least one more time.

  “Honey are you okay? You look flushed,” Nancy says. I grab a brochure and fan myself with it. The truth is I got myself all hot and bothered thinking about Bryce, but I obviously can’t tell her that.

  “I think all of this funeral stuff is getting to me,” I mumble, which isn’t entirely a lie. Ryan’s death is doing something strange to me. I’m taking risks I’ve never taken before.

  “I understand, it’s never easy when a man has to pick out his spouse’s head stone. How about I take care of all of this while you get some rest?” she says as she gathers the brochures on the coffee table.

  “No, it’s okay,” I say as I gently grab her hand. “I have to do this. For Ryan.” She hands me a pamphlet and I look over the options, searching for the best casket. My eyes blur with tears.

  “How about this one?” I ask as I point to a polished mahogany box. She glances at the photo and a wan smile appears on her face.

  “I think that one is perfect,” Nancy nods before swallowing heavily. I’m glad she likes it because her approval is just as important as mine. “I put together a guest list for the funeral. I took the liberty of inviting everyone from the wedding.”

  “Everyone?” I ask, perking up from my seat. Will I see Bryce again, under different circumstances this time? Immediately, I feel awful for even thinking these thoughts.

  “Yes, I figured we’d keep the same guest list, especially since we all found out the horrible news together,” Nancy says. My heart races as I envision Bryce standing in front of me at my husband’s funeral. Oh no. What if we can’t keep our hands off of each othe
r? Even worse, what if we behave, and yet everyone in the room senses the passion between us? The heat between us is that strong.

  “Do you think everyone will be able to make it?” I swallow heavily. If Bryce is already back in New York City, he’ll probably be too busy with work to fly back to Smithtown for a funeral.

  Nancy nods before sighing and wiping away another tear. “Yes, I think so. I doubt Ryan’s friends would miss his funeral,” she says. She has a point. Ryan was popular in our small town, and it’s totally possible that Bryce hasn’t left yet. I’ll have to try my best to stay far away from him. If anyone senses the electricity between us, our secret will be out.

  “What do you think of this headstone?” Nancy asks, pointing to a black marble slab.

  “Perfect.”

  “Good,” she says as she stands up. “I’m going to head down to the church and take care of a few other things. Do you need anything?” she asks, her eyes going teary again.

  “No, I’m fine. I just need some rest,” I say. “You take care of yourself, okay?”

  She shakes her head. “You’re the bereaved husband. Come on,” she says ushering me into my bedroom. “Let’s get you into bed.” I drag my feet every step of the way, still feeling conflicted about my attraction to Bryce. What am I going to do? I feel guilty about wanting to see him again, at my husband’s funeral of all places.

  “Thank you for everything Nancy,” I say as I crawl into my bed, shame washing over my frame.

  “You’re welcome,” she says as she gently rubs my shoulder. “I’ll let myself out. Get some rest.”

  “Okay,” I say. She flashes one more sad smile at me before leaving my bedroom. She gently closes the front door behind her, and my mind goes crazy. I glance at the nightstand, longing to hear Bryce’s sexy deep voice. He’s probably long gone by now, and happily ensconced in New York once again.

  I roll over on my back and stare up at the ceiling. Ryan loved me, but he would want me to be happy, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t want me to die an old geezer that never remarried. I think he would want me to move on without him. Or at least that’s what I tell myself because I desperately want to see where things will go with Bryce. It’s shameful, but true. So what do I do?