Page 89 of Notorious

Again, he cuts me off with a kiss, only this time one of his hands goes roaming, cupping my pec, then sliding down my side to my hip and grasping my butt.

I love the fire in Johnny. The depression had banked it for so long, but now I’m seeing the intensity, the passion that always came across on the screen. Only it’s directed toward me.

“I want to fuck you again, darlin’,” he says in a quiet, almost dangerous voice. “You ready for that, or do you need to wait?”

I’d optimistically done some extra cleaning that morning in the shower. “Stretching and lube,” I say.

“’Kay.” He picks me up like I weigh nothing.

“For fuck’s sake, I can walk,” I yelp.

“Not after I’m done with you,” he mutters darkly, and that makes my dick go from curious about the proceedings to fully hard and busting out of my zipper. I laugh as he carries me up two flights of stairs like I’m a sack of potatoes. He’s barely breathing hard.

When we get into the bedroom, he tears off my clothes and his. I’ve never seen him this animated before.

I. Fucking. Love. It. I love that he’s getting back to who he really is. And if this is the beginning, I can’t wait to see how happy he’ll—we’ll both—be when he gets a little more recovered.

He tosses me naked onto the bed on my back, then lies on top of me, his hard dick rubbing against mine while he kisses me deeply, slowly, passionately.

Judging by his movements, what we’re doing could end up a hard fuck or a slow bone. Either way, I’m fully on board.

Johnny kisses me one more time before shifting over so I can roll onto my stomach. Then he reaches into the nightstand drawer for the lube.

“We really should just get a big bottle with a pump dispenser,” I grumble.

He laughs, but two fingers coated in cool liquid are soon nudging at my entrance. Apparently he doesn’t want to waste any time.

I gasp at the intrusion, but I fucking love it. I love the fullness and the hint of pain. I love how he brushes against my prostate every once in a while. It’s clear he knows he’s doing it, but he doesn’t want to make me come. Not yet.

While he expertly stretches me, he’s murmuring how gorgeous my ass is. He’s kissing my skin. He’s reaching a hand around to stroke my cock, and then he’s taking a break and rubbing his cock between my ass cheeks like he can’t help himself.

“I want you inside me,” I say, trying to make it more of a demand than a whimper.

“Patience, baby boy. It’s for me to decide when you’re ready, and you’re not ready yet.”

“Whatever,” I mumble into the pillow, not sure why I’m being bratty but knowing it’s okay for me to be that way with him. That I don’t have to be a mature adult when I’m in the bedroom. That I can rely on my husband to give me what I need when I need it.

After two fingers, he stretches me with three, and then a fourth. I’m dying here.

I say so.

“Patience,” he says again, and slaps my ass. He seems mesmerized by the way it moves, given the way he gets quiet and then does it again.

I look over my shoulder. “You okay back there?”

“Fuck, your ass is so smackable.” Another slap, and while it stings, it’s not hard enough to do anything other than create more want in me.

“It’s also really empty, and I want you inside me now,” I say.

He smacks my ass again. “I’m in charge.”

But he does dribble on some more lube, and I can tell that he’s putting on a condom and slicking his cock, too. Then he runs his cock up and down my ass crack, which just drives me bananas. “Put your cock in me.”

“Fine,” he says, and he lines up the head and nudges it against me. My body resists, like it always does, but he steadily presses his way inside.

I need to scream. I need to yell. But he’s just spent all this time prepping me, and I don’t wanna complain after all my bravado about being a size queen. Turns out I can’t always immediately take my porn star husband? The one I’ve wanted my entire adult life?

Johnny, of course, reads me and stops. I can tell his muscles are contracting as he holds himself above me. “Talk to me, Kurt,” he says. “Tell me how you’re doing.”

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