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Back The First and The Last
Chapters (25)
  1. The First and The Last
  2. 1. One
  3. 2. Two
  4. 3. Three
  5. 4. Four
  6. 5. Five
  7. 6. Six
  8. 7. Seven
  9. AFTERWARD
  10. 9. Nine
  11. 10. Ten
  12. 11. Eleven
  13. 12. Twelve
  14. 13. Thirteen
  15. 14. Fourteen
  16. 15. Fifteen
  17. 16. Sixteen
  18. 17. Seventeen
  19. 18. Eighteen
  20. 19. Nineteen
  21. 20. Twenty
  22. 21. Twenty One
  23. AFTERWORD
  24. ABOUT THE FIRST AND THE LAST
  25. A LITTLE ABOUT ME

Afterward, I couldn’t move. I collapsed onto Jules until I caught my breath. Until I came back to myself, and it occurred to me I was crushing him. When that happened, I rolled over gently, taking Jules with me, so we were both lying on our sides. I curled my legs up close to him. My dick was still hard inside him. Knotted and thick. I tried to pull out, but it made him flinch when I did it.

“Stay,” he moaned.

I carefully reached back to the sofa and managed to grab hold of the throw blanket and a pillow. I lifted Jules’s top leg and slid the pillow between his knees to take some of the pressure off his hole. He sighed his thanks and fell fast asleep before I’d even covered him with the blanket.

I didn’t sleep well. I drifted in and out. My knot was still swollen. It was wildly oversensitive. Any small movement I made sent shivers through me. I tried to lie still, I did, but every beat of Jules’s heart sent rumbling vibrations through my cock and straight up my spine. When I closed my eyes, sleep was no mercy. I had my arm crooked under Jules’s head. My face was close to his neck. His scent gland taunted me. The dreams that found me taunted me too. I dreamed of Jules. Jules on my porch at the homestead. Jules under the willow tree at the creek. Jules in the woods and Jules at the river. In every dream, Jules said the same thing. The same thing only. In each of the dreams, he turned to me slowly, one eyebrow raised up and the other drawn down. The corners of his mouth quirked up when he saw me and he tilted his head slightly, giving me a hint of a nod. Every time, the Jules of my dreams said the same thing.

“Bite me.”

17. Seventeen

17

I woke when Jules started stirring. I was exhausted. Throughout the night, Jules was hit by wave after wave of heat. Hot waves that made his breathing grow shallow and his ass clench around me. When it happened, I held him tight and rocked my hips against him. I rocked him. I stroked him, too. I rocked him and stroked him until he spilled in my hand and sighed to himself as he fell back to sleep.

I was as spent and satiated as I’d ever been, but I sure as hell wasn’t well rested. When I wasn’t tending to Jules, I was panicking about the state of my dick. It was rock solid. It hadn’t softened all night. It was knotted as tightly as a dick could possibly be. I was worried about it, but I was more worried I was hurting Jules. I was frantic, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I was stuck. We were stuck together.