Micah’s strength fled him all at once, and he would have collapsed right into a puddle of his own jizz if Damon hadn’t had the sense to haul him off to the side of the mess, arranging himself between Micah’s legs on the bed. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to Micah’s face, his neck, muttering sweet nothings against his slick skin.

“-did so well-”

“-so fucking perfect-”

The words made his stomach flip, but high as Micah was on his own orgasm, he was painstakingly aware of the fact that Damon was still hard, his cock standing proudly between his legs, huge and angry-looking. And fuck if Micah wasn’t desperate to touch it.

Giving into the urge, Micah reached forward and took the man’s cock into his hand. Damon’s girth was such that his thumb didn’t even meet his other fingers where he wrapped them around the bottom of the shaft.

Ignoring Damon’s shocked inhale and the stream of cuss words that catapulted out of his mouth – “shit, fuck, Micah” – Micah stroked him once, twice-

Damon caught his wrist in an iron-tight grip before Micah could do it a third time. Despite the pulse that Micah could see beating rapidly in the bulging veins of the man’s neck (his cock, too), when Damon pinned his hand down onto the mattress, it was with careful, gentle fingers. He rested his forehead against Micah’s. “You wreck me, you know that, right?”

Micah licked his lips. “Pretty sure it’s you who’s going to wreck me with that… thing.”

Thing, Micah? Christ.

So he was a bit ineloquent fresh off the best orgasm of his life and with a massive cock in his face. Cut him some slack.

Shockingly, instead of teasing Micah, Damon merely leaned forward and kissed him. It was sweet, borderline chaste, but Micah could taste himself on Damon’s tongue, and he felt his dick give an interested twitch, already half-hard despite the fact he’d just blown his load all over Damon’s sheets.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Damon was a living, breathing contradiction. He was a violent mafia don, but spoiled Micah rotten, treating him like some precious, breakable thing. He was pinning Micah’s hands above his head, grip unyielding, and yet was asking permission to fuck him. It made no sense, and maybe it should have scared Micah that someone so hot-and-cold – so unpredictable – had so much power over him.

But Micah wasn’t scared. “Please,” he begged, practically choking on the word with how much he wanted it.

That was all the confirmation Damon needed to line his cock up with Micah’s asshole, still glistening with saliva and lube.