Page 69 of From the Ashes

He pauses as we lay side by side to stare at his hand. “It’s beautiful,” he marvels.

“You’re beautiful,” I remind him, then caress it with my fingertips. “Gold and blue for the sunshine and the ocean,” I explain.

He exhales and shakes his head. “I think a part of me was always waiting for you to come back to me. I’m so happy you did, Colt.”

“Me, too,” I tell him truthfully. “Make love to me, please?”

“I was already planning on it,” he says, smirking as he rolls me on my back. Because of my broken leg, he’s been riding me the last few weeks, and it’s been amazing.

But that’s not what I meant.

“No, baby,” I say softly. “I wantyouto make love tome.”He crooks an eyebrow in confusion, and I chuckle wryly. “I want to bottom.”

Unsurprisingly, he pauses. “You haven’t done that since you came back…”

“I haven’t done that withanyone,”I clarify. “Not since the last night I was with you in Redwood Bay. No one ever, Zee. Just you. I want that now. I’m ready. And I mean that literally.” I waggle my eyebrows and laugh until he catches my drift.

“Oh…oh!”

He blushes. I love it.

I lean up to kiss his mouth and slip my hands under his shirt. “I have to be careful sill, but can we do it like this? Face to face with you on top?”

That seems to wake his brain up again. He starts kissing me back with the fiery passion I love so much from him, his hands threading through my hair. I feel his new ring against my scalp, and it sends shivers down my spine.

“Of course,” he says, repositioning himself to take more of his weight on his knees as he straddles my hips. “Anything you want, Colt. I want to make you feel so good.”

“You always do,” I assure him.

Normally, it’s my pleasure to take care of us both in the bedroom. But my banged-up leg has made that tricky of late. It’s actually kind of nice to be a bit of a pillow princess for a change. I can’t see myself doing it all the time. But letting Zahir undress us both helps me get into a more submissive mind frame.

I want to mark this occasion by giving myself over to him completely. It’s important to me that I show with my actionshow much I trust him with my body and soul—that I trust him with ourforever.

I’m at least able to grab us the lube from my nightstand. It was such a relief to ditch the condoms a while back, but now’s my first time experiencing that from the other end of things.

The nerves come back a little, but only because I want this to be amazing for both of us. The danger with missing fifteen years of casual interactions together is that I’m aware I’m overcompensating sometimes by hyper fixating on our experiences now being perfect.

Although there is something I’ve realized recently that’s put so many things into perspective. Yes, I’m ashamed for how I acted at eighteen and wish I hadn’t caused Zahir so much pain. But on the other hand…would we really have survived together all this time if I hadn’t gone away and understood just how much I don’t want the life my parents mapped out for me? The break-up was awful for both of us. However, there’s a part of me now that wonders if that time apart wasn’t necessary—essential even—for making us the men we are today.

The men that both of us are going to spend the rest of our lives with.

Zahir’s on top on me, our warm stomachs rubbing together as he kisses me through his smiles. “Are you really all mine?” he asks.

I take his hand and place it over the fully healed tattoo on my hip. “Forever, baby.”

He shuffles down and kisses the spot sweetly. Then he moves his mouth over to my leaking cock, and suddenly the vibe is more sinful than sweet.

“Oh, baby, oh,” I utter, threading my fingers through his silky hair. He hums and looks up at me through his dark lashes, knowing exactly how much he’s turning me on.

Despite me telling him I’d already stretched myself, he still pops off my length, then kisses down, nuzzling and sucking my balls, licking my taint, before pulling my cheeks apart and feasting on my hole. I groan and pant, lifting my knees up as much as it’s comfortable to do so with the brace on.

In that moment, my recently broken tibia doesn’t seem to be an issue one way or another.

“Fuck, fuck,fuck,”I grunt.

I haven’t been rimmed in…well…fifteen years. I never trusted anyone else down there. But Zahir doesn’t hesitate to pleasure me, probing his tongue and fingers inside where I already worked myself before he arrived. The last thing I wanted was to hold us up because my body might fight us.

I should have known it wouldn’t do anything else but welcome Zahir back with open arms.

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