by E M Lindsey
Sam grinned. Predatory, all teeth. “Yes. I think my pill is kicking in.”
Niko swallowed thickly and hurried to lay towels on Sam’s chair before pushing it into the shower. He left his husband to dry himself and adjust his cock ring, and he gave himself a single cursory swipe of the towel before racing to the bed and digging into the suitcase for lube.
He wanted this. Needed this. Craved it on a level he didn’t quite understand, but it didn’t matter. When he heard the squeak of Sam’s wheels behind him, his heart sped up like it had the very first time Sam had ever touched him.
He was facing the bed, and he didn’t turn, didn’t move except a slight twitch when two warm hands cupped his ass. His elbows hit the mattress and he let his body fall forward as Sam kneaded him, spreading him wide, hot breath ghosting over his hole.
“I love this,” Sam said. “Love you like this. God, you’re so…”
Niko let out a small, shout into the comforter as Sam leaned in and buried his face in Niko’s ass. His tongue was hot and wet as it dragged over his pucker, his teeth grazing the soft fleshy parts of his backside before he pushed the pad of one finger against him.
“How much do you want this, babe?”
Niko shuddered and pushed his hips back. “Please.” He was hoping Sam would get with the fucking program, because he wasn’t sure he was capable of asking in more eloquent words.
Sam seemed to understand him and didn’t waste another minute. His hands spread him wide, almost enough to be painful, then the speared tip of his tongue pushed inside. Niko’s body was waiting for him, welcomed him, softened and relaxed as Sam fucked him with his mouth. Niko’s hands scrabbled for the blankets, fingers twisting in the fabric. His cock was heavy and thick and leaking beneath him. He fucked up against the bed, too close but not close enough. He could come like this, if he let Sam go on. He could spill untouched in the sheets. And he wanted that, but he wanted Sam inside of him first.
“Sam, I…”
Sam pulled away with a series of gentle pecks, letting his hands drift to Niko’s hips as he urged him to turn. His cock was red and so hard, held upright by one hand and the thick rubber cock ring that was tucked behind his balls. “Suck me?”
Niko groaned. Sam couldn’t feel it, but that didn’t really matter because it got him worked up and turned on in every over-sensitive nerve in his body when he watched Niko sink to his knees and take him to the back of his throat. And Niko never needed a reason to get his lips around Sam’s dick.
The floor was hard beneath him, stray grains of sand still there, biting into his skin, but it helped keep him from falling over the edge. He braced his hands on Sam’s thighs, the muscles beneath jumping and twitching from his stimulation. Niko licked his lips, then met Sam’s gaze before opening wide and sinking down.
Sam let out a heavy groan, letting his hand fall to Niko’s cheek so he could feel where he stretched Niko, feel where his cock sank in. “That’s it, god, that’s fucking it. Suck me, babe. You love it.”
Niko’s eyes fluttered shut as he tasted the warm skin. Sam didn’t ejaculate, but Niko had never once missed the taste of his come when he got to have the rest of him right there. He pushed up higher, sank deeper until Sam’s hand sank into his hair and gently pried him off.
“Bed.”
Niko couldn’t see straight, but he managed to rise from his crouch and offer arms to the love of his life. Sam grasped him, spun, then hoisted himself onto the bed in a smooth move. His arms bulged as he pushed himself back toward the headboard, and he arranged his legs. His cock stood there still—spit-slick and waiting, and Niko grabbed the lube and poured a generous amount into his hand.
“I want your dick to open me today.”
Sam closed his eyes, his head thunking back against the wood, and he nodded. “Yeah. Yes.”
Niko glided his hand over Sam’s dick, then swung his leg over him and pressed his cock into Sam’s stomach, just above his navel where he was the most sensitive when he was worked up like this. Sam groaned, shivering as his hands flew to Niko’s hips, and he guided him down.
“Come on, take it,” he growled.
Niko swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek as he sank down. It was a painful, stretching burn, but it was so welcome. It made him feel alive and wanted, possessed and present. It made every painful step he had to take until this moment worth it.
“I love you. Shit, Sam. Shit. I love you so much.” A sob escaped him as he sat fully on Sam, the cock gently nudging at his prostate.
Sam met him with a furious, wanton gaze, and his hands held Niko in a bruising grip. “You’re everything. You know that, right? Fucking everything.”
Niko’s hands traced up his arms, drawing patterns along the ink which covered every inch of flesh. He thumbed at his nipples, thrusting his hips down in time with dragging his teeth over Sam’s collarbone, scraping his nails toward his armpits. Sam writhed under him, his breathing hitched, his groans punched out like Niko was taking them by force.
“Kiss me,” Sam whispered, hoarse and broken. “I’m going to come, babe. Fucking kiss me.”
Niko slammed his hips down, over and over, wrecking his own prostate, dragging his cock along Sam’s stomach, and he did. He kissed him. He surged into it, open-mouthed and all teeth and spit. Sam’s kisses were biting, almost cruel, scraping Niko’s tongue as a primal shout erupted from his chest.
His entire body seized, and Niko crashed over the edge with him, spilling hot ropes against Sam’s twitching skin.
For a moment, Niko was terrified he wouldn’t be able to come down. For a moment, he thought his heart might actually burst from behind his ribs. And then he could breathe again. Sam’s warm, massive hands drew soft lines up and down his sides until he stopped shaking, and Niko tightened his grip on his husband, letting his head rest against Sam’s shoulder.
“That was…”
“I know,” Sam whispered. He pressed a dry, fierce kiss to Niko’s forehead, his cheek, urging his chin up so he could kiss Niko’s mouth. “I love you.”
Niko smiled, eyes fluttering closed. Sam was still hard and would be for a while, and Niko felt no reason to move. He shifted, feeling the stretch, and groaned a little even as he smiled.
“Do you want me to…”
“No,” Niko said, hanging on tighter.
Sam chucked and wrapped his arms fully around Niko’ letting their bodies sink against the pillows. “Good honeymoon so far?”
Niko laughed against Sam’s flushed skin. “Satisfactory.”
Sam grunted. “No regrets?”
At that, Niko pushed up, bracing himself on Sam’s chest with one arm, using the other to cup his cheek. There were moments—now more few and far between than before—where Sam had periods of doubt. They were just moments of fear that his life was too much, that his job wasn’t enough, that having to raise Maisy wasn’t what Niko wanted.
Their beginning had been rocky and scary. Niko had been left heartbroken, even if it was only for a little while. But that hadn’t scared him off. It only strengthened his resolve to fight for this, because Sam not only deserved it, but so did he.
“I would be just as happy if we had never officially tied the knot,” Niko said, because he meant it. “My heart was yours from that first conversation about hockey butts.”
Sam snorted a quiet laugh, and dragged his hand down to cup Niko’s ass cheek. “I think yours is better than anything I’ve seen in a long time.”
Niko rolled his eyes, knowing how biased his husband was—and fucking loving it. “The marriage itself is nothing but paper. This,” he pressed his hand over Sam’s heart which was still beating wildly, “only this is what matters. I’ve never had a single regret.”
“Even when,” Sam started, but Niko quieted him with a kiss.
“Even when.”
Sam pulled back and fixed him with a glare he didn’t mean. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Niko
traced Sam’s lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “Even when anything. I’ve never regretted a single second of this.”
“Even when I hurt you,” Sam whispered.
Nik pressed his forehead to Sam’s and breathed in the scent of them mingled together—come, sweat, soap, sea. It was everything. “Every single moment has been worth it, because every one of those moments got us here.”
Sam let out the barest sigh, then nestled down into the blankets and held Niko fast. There was so much more life to live. There was so much more future. The real world existed just outside of the hotel room, just outside of the honeymoon. Niko was no fool—he knew there would be more heartache. Sam would hurt him, and he would hurt Sam. They’d say cruel things and apologize later. They’d mean them too, in the moment, and it wouldn’t matter in the end because this was so much more. This was everything.
Only this.
And Niko would fight for the rest of his life to keep it.
* * *
Fin.
Sage and Will
The Anticipation
One
The Anticipation
The last of his prayer faded, and Will took a moment to feel the peace from it before rising and reaching for the ends of his prayer rug. It folded neatly into a square, bound by tabs—a gift from Sage for their fifth anniversary. It hung on the wall beside the bookshelf in the study, high where the dog couldn’t get to it, and where none of the kids could reach.
Rolling his shoulders, he let anticipation ripple through him as he put one foot in front of the other and headed for the door. Just a handful of steps would carry him across the hall and into his bedroom, and a few more steps after that to reach his bed.
His palms began to sweat, though he wasn’t nervous. But it was the first time in so long that the house was quiet and was going to stay that way until Sunday evening when everyone got back. Will loved his life—no, he more than loved it. It was a life he hadn’t really thought possible after everything he’d been through. He still felt the occasional, profound loneliness knowing ]his parents would never be able to forgive him, and they’d never be able to see just how happy he was.
And if they could, well…
He didn’t really let himself think about that though.
He and Sage needed this night. Things had been busy and tense lately, and they’d barely gotten to kiss each other good night let alone have time for conversation. Or anything else. Will was so snowed under by work and taking care of kid stuff that he hadn’t had a moment to himself to think.
Even during prayers when Sage played wrangler, it was just a single moment. A chance to breathe, and recenter, and connect with something bigger than him. But that’s all it was—a moment. The chaos was waiting at the door, and he dove in head first because that’s what he signed up for.
And he loved it.
But he loved this too.
The knob turned under his hand, the door swinging open, and he knew he didn’t have to close it because not another soul would set foot in their house. Not tonight. His phone was set to silent, and only an emergency call from Derek could ring through.
Tonight, he had one obligation.
Tonight, only one thing mattered.
Will took his time crossing the room, his bare feet on the wood floors feeling a bit of chill, but he didn’t mind. It wasn’t going to stay that way. He tugged at the first button on his shirt, then the second, and he smiled when he heard a soft, needy whimper.
“Well,” he said, his eyes grazing over Sage’s body. He was exactly where Will had left him, face-down, knees tucked under him, spread wide, not touching himself as a huge plug split him open. Will could see the shining remnants of lube on Sage’s thighs, see the way his arms trembled with the effort of not moving, not relieving any of the pressure on his rock-hard dick. “Someone certainly has been good.”
There was a noise coming from Sage—maybe it was a word. Begging, pleading. And Will was going to give him all the pleasure in the world because that’s what he did. He liked to make Sage wait, but he didn’t like him to suffer. Mostly, he wanted to feel worthy of Sage’s submission, and his patience.
He dragged the flat of his palm down the curve in Sage’s spine, feeling the way his body trembled. His skin was a bright canvas of ink—shapes and swirls and images that all told a story of a man who had suffered, who had very nearly lost himself, who was just learning who he was when he found Will.
And Will had watched him, helped shape him, into the person who wore a ring on his finger and pledged his undying devotion to Will, who wasn’t quite sure he had never lived up to such worship. But he was grateful for it.
Resting one knee on the bed, Will grabbed Sage by the hips and pressed a kiss to the center of his back, then on each knob of his spine, then at the top of his ass, and then just above where the base of the plug’s flare had him stretched so, so wide.
He pressed on the tender skin with his thumb and he felt the way Sage’s entire body jolted.
“Please,” he rasped.
“I’m not going to drag this out,” Will promised him. Sage had been good, waiting for Will to eat, and then shower, and then pray. All like this. All on his knees with his head down and ass open and hands gripping the sheets because he knew Will was going to take care of him.
Their relationship had been a gentle evolution of what they both needed. Sage’s desires awakened something in Will he hadn’t been prepared for, but it felt so right, each step they took. Sage still didn’t want pain, and Will was still far too tender to ever inflict it, but he did like the beauty of anticipation. He liked watching Sage dance on edges of climax, Will gently pushing at each one of his limits, pulling back exactly when Sage needed him to.
He’d come to read him like his own body, to know every twitch, every breath, every gasp, every groan. Sage’s movements were like a language only he spoke, and he planned to keep it that way.
For as long as they both shall live.
He kissed him again, right on his rim, then stepped back to work at his trousers. Sage whimpered, knowing his relief was coming soon—though not too soon. Will wanted to draw it out—needed to. He wanted to soak up and drink in every single moment he had alone with Sage. Because the chaos was still waiting for them at the door, it was just a few steps further away than usual.
When he was naked, he tipped his head back and breathed in, letting the chill air soothe the way his skin was burning with want. Shuffling toward the bed, he passed Sage and ducked down, reaching for the box they kept hidden from tiny hands and prying eyes. It had a lock, the key in the drawer, and it wasn’t long before he had the contents lying beside him.
“Do you want the sleep mask?” Will asked, letting his fingers do a little staccato dance across Sage’s ribs.
Sage’s breath shuddered out of him. “I want to look at you.”
And Will could deny him nothing, so he dropped it back into the box. He pulled out lube, leather cuffs, a gag. Sometimes Sage needed to be bound and forced still, sometimes he needed to be free. Sometimes he needed to be silenced, sometimes he needed to cry out.
Sometimes he was all of those things all cobbled together, and Will had long-since learned to be prepared to act at the quiet, whispered cry for something else.
Setting the box aside, he shifted to the end of the bed, then pried Sage’s legs wider. His rim was trembling as it stretched further, and he picked up the lube, dribbling a bit more around the edge before he grasped the handle and began to work it. First, a slow back and forth motion, pushing in until Sage gasped, then he worked it out.
Sage’s hole gaped, and Will pressed three fingers inside, feeling Sage trying to close around him. His muscles quivered with want for more, his legs spreading just slightly, his hips pushing back trying to take. Will laid a hand on his lower back and held him still, and Sage instantly softened and obeyed.
“I’ve got you,” he promised. He moved his free hand to Sage’s left wrist and curled his fingers around
it. “Do you need restraints?”
“No,” Sage gasped. “Not now. I probably will later because it feels so,” he lost his words on a whine when Will found his prostate and gently grazed it. “I need to touch you. It’s been so long.”
Will understood exactly what he meant. He pulled out, sweeping the contents to the side. There would be time enough to give Sage everything he needed—and even more of what he wanted. But this night—this moment—it was for them. It wouldn’t be the only time they had, but the space to be themselves in bed was precious.
Years from now, when the kids were out of the house and their hair was going grey, things might be different. And they’d probably evolve as their bodies did. But right now, he’d take these moments as a gift.
Curling his fingers in Sage’s hair, Will pushed him down further, then used his other hand to pull one of his ass cheeks aside. He stared a long moment at the slowly decreasing gape, then he put his mouth there and gave him a slow, tender kiss. His tongue pushed in as far as it could, stroking the walls, tasting the bitter-sour of lube, but any small discomforts were worth all the sounds Sage was gasping into the pillow.
It had been so long. Nearly an hour, and Will was ready.
With careful hands, he turned Sage onto his back, then urged both legs up toward his chest. “Lift your hips.” His voice took on its gentle command, and Sage mindlessly obeyed. “Eyes on me,” he said when Sage’s began to close. Those eyes—those perfect, soft, knowing eyes captured his gaze and he lost himself for a moment. “I love you.”
Sage’s mouth softened. “I love you.”
Will positioned himself and pushed in. It was still wet, enough that he could slid in and fit comfortably, and he pushed hard until Sage gasped and arched his back. Using his knees to brace himself, Will took Sage’s hands by the wrists, using his thumb to spread his fingers, then kissed each palm.
“You can touch me, but not yourself.”
