I’m an emotional guy most of the time. I love my family and my friends. I’d do anything for anyone. But I’ve never wanted to tie myself emotionally to one person the way I want it with St. Clare. If it was my choice, I’d tie our hearts into little knots that he would never get undone again, and then we’d spend our days talking and goofing off and supporting each other and fucking in such a raw, uncontrollable way, I’d need days to recover from it.

I’ve never ever ever wanted this with another person and there have been plenty of other people.

Not one of them comes close to him.

He’s made for me.

And I’ll do everything to prove that I’m made for him.

His nails cut into my skin as he pounds ruthlessly against me. I’m vaguely aware of the bed meeting the wall, of his sweaty thighs against mine, of the way he utters my name in a disbelieving kind of way that tells me he’s as fucked as I am.

His groan is this deep, physical thing that strokes along my spine and into my balls even as he abuses that thing in my ass, which is almost numb with pleasure. I’m twitchingly high, balls and thighs tightening every time he pegs me just right, and I’m not sure I can hold out much longer.

I want him to come, but I’m at the point where I want to come more.

I’m leaking all over the sheets, jacking myself hard and fast, rocking back into his thrusts and matching his need with mine. Every part of me is going to hurt after this, but it’ll be so worth it to have what we have right now. To feel so good I could fucking fly.

“Ah, shit, Perry, this isn’t going to last much longer.”

The strangled way his words are uttered confirms it. But it’s okay, I’m not long for either. He’s tearing me up, turning me inside out, rearranging everything I thought I ever knew, and I’m enjoying every minute.

My cock swells in my hand as St. Clare lets out a grunt, hips stuttering as his dick twitches in my ass.

I imagine what it would be like without the condom. To be flooded with his cum and left used and sticky and open.

The sparking zaps in my spine get too much, and my eyes roll back on themselves as it finally releases.

I come hard, almost blacking out, not stopping to spare a thought for the bedding or St. Clare and how hard I’m riding back on him. My orgasm shudders through my limbs and then fades, slowly sizzling away and bringing back the ache in my shoulder before I collapse forward onto the bed.