Page 25 of Piece Us Together

“I’m sorry.” I duck my head, Hunter’s hand falling away. My trembling is bad enough to have my teeth chattering now. “I’m sorry. One second. I’ll stop. I’m sorry.”

There’s shuffling and clothes rustling and then someone is crouched in front of me. I don’t have time to check who it is before big hands are cupping my cheeks, forcing my chin up until my eyes are locking with Maison’s. He looks worried, but not upset. More confused than anything.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs, his thumbs stroking my cheeks, chasing tears as they soothe. “What’s going on, hm? Talk to me, baby. I’m right here.”

“I just—I didn’t think I’d ever get to—and now I—and he’s—and you—are you sure? Are you really sure?” I sob. “Because I can’t—I can’t lose—I can’t—it’s not worth—”

“I’m sure. Hey, look at me.” He presses his forehead to mine. “I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life than I’ve been sure of us, and this is a part of us now. This is our next step. This might be our fix. Okay? I’m not letting you run away from that. So take a deep fucking breath, remember that I love you no matter what, and be a good boy for Hunter.”

I let his words sink down into my bones, trusting the truth of them as I breathe through the panic. He breathes with me, steady and slow, saying, “I’m sure,” and, “I love you,” over and over until everything has gone calm again.

Hunter’s hand returns to my hair the moment Maison has stepped away. I take another deep breath. And another. He runs his fingers over my scalp, over and over, every pass making my mind fade farther away.

“What’s your color, Nolan?” he asks eventually.

“Green, sir.” I wipe my eyes. “I’m okay. I just got overwhelmed. And scared. But I’m okay.”

He hums, his fingers still carding through my hair. It’s calming. Reassuring. It has my shoulders going soft and my breathing slowing down.

That’s when he suddenly tightens his hold. It’s not enough to hurt, just enough to use my hair as a grip to pull my head back until I have to look at him.

His eyes are bright, an intensity growing in them as he gazes down at me. The look is all heat and possessiveness, with an undercurrent of fondness.

“Take my cock out.” He tilts his chin just so, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Let’s see what that mouth of yours can do.”

My hands shake with the need to obey, to be good, to be on my knees with a cock on my tongue.How long have I been waitingfor just that? For a man—a dom—to put me on my knees and turn my mind off with a hand in my hair and a cock in my mouth?I’m dizzy with it, even more so when I free his cock and get my first glimpse.

Maison is decently thick and long, just enough to burn a little even after he’s given me prep. Hunter is long too, though maybe a little shorter than Maison, butthick. He’s so fucking thick.

My god, that would stretch my hole so fucking good.

I shut that train of thought down as hard as I can. That’s not on the table. Having his cock in my mouth will be enough. It has to be enough. I can’t get greedy.

“Go on,” Hunter murmurs, his grip on my hair tightening just enough to sting.

I lick my lips before parting them and leaning in, letting his fat, leaking cockhead slide along my tongue.Fuck yes.

He tastes good. Clean, with just enough musk to give me that perfect taste of man and cock. There’s a vein on the bottom of him. I wonder if it’ll throb against my tongue as he comes down my throat.

There’s a tug on my hair before I can get him in too deep, stopping me. I whine. My heart hammers in my chest immediately at the sound, my eyes flicking up to gauge his reaction. Something unravels in me at the lack of anger or annoyance. In fact, he looks pleased. Almost like he enjoys drawing such sounds from me.

Hunter’s smile turns into a smirk the longer our eyes stay locked, his hand tight in my hair, his cock paused on my tongue. I whine again, testing the waters. He fuckinggrins.

“Needy boy. You want more? Want me to stuff your mouth?” He wraps his free hand lightly around my throat, thumb stroking the side. “What about this? Want me to fill your throat?”

I nod eagerly, even though I’m not sure I can take that kind of thing anymore. Especially not with his girth. Maison doesn’t likeusing me roughly and whenever I try to gag myself on him, he gets almost panicky. I don’t think Hunter will get panicky, even if I gag and sputter. I think he’ll be patient. He might even enjoy it.

My cock aches with the thought, begging me to rut against the nearest object. I haven’t felt this horny in so long, and we’ve barely done anything. There’s a shame in that, a shame that lingers just beneath the arousal, a threat for later. I let it be future-Nolan’s problem. I’ve needed this way too much to let it be ruined now.

I’m given another inch, my jaw already starting to ache as it stretches as wide as it can for him. I get one more glimpse of his heated gaze before my eyes are falling shut, tears already leaking out the sides. My brain is starting to buzz already, filling with words likegoodandyesandmore. Filling with lust and calm, with anticipation and peace. The shame is gone. I can already feel myself forgetting it was ever there.

“Fuck, darling.” Hunter’s grip relaxes again, fingers stroking soothingly along my scalp as he pushes in further. My throat flutters, my gag reflex apparently trying to make a comeback. I breathe through the feeling, not letting myself remember how I learned to do so. He slides into my throat with a choked sound. It’s easy. Familiar. I melt into it. “Fuck. He doesn’t gag?”

The question is for Maison. I can’t help the little whine that tries to escape at the sensation of being talked about instead of talked to. Like I’m a thing.Theirthing. My cock leaks against my thigh, the liquid hot and sticky.

“He—uh. No. Guess not.”

If Hunter finds it odd that Maison sounds unsure, he doesn’t comment. “Such a good boy, taking my cock so well. Never had a boy take me on the first try, you know that?”

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