The ex-con - Chapter 2 (Patreon)

Author’s note: All characters are consenting adults (18+). All sexual acts depicted are consensual between the characters.

Chapter 2

I woke up in his bed.

The sheets still smelled like him, clean sweat, the faint trace of prison that hadn’t fully washed off, and the deeper scent of a man who had spent a year locked away from everything soft. Calum was behind me, one heavy arm locked around my waist, chest pressed to my back. His breathing was slow and even against the back of my neck. For a few seconds I just lay there, feeling the solid weight of him, the dried mess on my lower back from the night before, the quiet of the apartment around us.

He had asked me to stay after the nightmare. I had stayed.

I carefully slid out from under his arm. He made a low sound but didn’t wake. I stood by the bed for a moment looking at him. The longer hair, the unshaven jaw, the thick muscle that hadn’t been there two years ago. The boy I used to know at parties was gone. What was left was harder. Hungrier.

In the kitchen I made coffee and sat at the counter drinking it black, staring at nothing. My body still felt the shape of him. The way he had ground against me. The broken sound he made when he came. I had always had a quiet crush on Calum, even back when he was still the preppy one with the clean polos and the easy smile. Now that crush felt heavier. More dangerous.

I heard the shower start.

Twenty minutes later he walked into the kitchen wearing only a pair of dark sweatpants, hair damp, towel around his neck. He stopped when he saw me.

“Morning,” he said, voice still rough.

“Morning.”

He poured himself coffee and leaned against the opposite counter. For a while neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, but it was full of everything that had happened in the dark.

“You didn’t have to stay,” he said eventually.

“You asked me to…”

He nodded once, looking down into his cup. “I don’t remember the last time someone did something like that for me without wanting something back.”

I didn’t answer.

Calum set the cup down and dragged a hand over his face. “About last night—”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I do.” He looked at me directly. “I’ve been locked up for a year, Ash. No privacy. No touch that wasn’t either violence or nothing. Last night I… I used you. And you let me. I need to know you’re okay with that.”

I held his gaze. “I’m okay with it, you didn’t use me… I wanted it.”

Something shifted in his expression. Relief, maybe. Or something darker.

“Good,” he said quietly. “Because I’ve been hard since I woke up thinking about it.”

The air in the kitchen changed.

I set my own cup down. “Then what do you want to do about it?”

Calum pushed off the counter and walked toward me slowly. He stopped when he was close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his bare chest. He reached out and rested two fingers under my chin, tilting my face up.

“I want to take my time with you,” he said. “Last night was desperate. This morning I want to feel every second of it.”

He kissed me.

It wasn’t careful. It was deep and open and a little rough, the first real kiss we had ever shared. I opened for him immediately. His hand slid from my chin to the side of my neck, holding me in place while he tasted my mouth. I could feel him getting hard against my hip through the sweatpants.

When he finally pulled back we were both breathing harder.

“Bedroom,” he said. “Mine.”

I followed him down the hall.

Calum closed the door behind us and turned to face me. He pulled the towel from around his neck and tossed it aside. Then he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and pushed them down. His cock sprang free, already fully hard, thick and heavy, the skin stretched tight. He wrapped a hand around it and stroked once, slow, watching my face.

“On the bed,” he said. “On your back.”

I did as he told me. He climbed up after me, knees on either side of my thighs, and looked down at me for a long moment. Then he leaned over and kissed me again while his hand worked between us, pushing my shorts down and off. When we were both naked he settled his weight on top of me, the full solid heat of his body pressing me into the mattress.

He kissed my mouth, then my jaw, then the side of my neck. His lips moved lower, over my collarbone, down the center of my chest. When he reached my stomach he dragged his tongue in a slow line just above my cock, making me arch.

“I’ve thought about this,” he muttered against my skin. “About having someone under me who actually wants it. Someone who isn’t just taking it because they have to. I learned a lot in prison you know, how to please someone, because I had too…”

He took me into his mouth.

I cursed. Calum’s mouth was hot and wet and surprisingly skilled. He sucked me with slow, deliberate focus, one hand wrapped around the base, the other pressing my hip down into the bed. I buried my fingers in his longer hair and let my head fall back. The wet sounds of it filled the quiet room. Every time he took me deeper I felt the soft scrape of his beard against my skin.

He didn’t rush. He edged me with patience, pulling off every time I got close, kissing the inside of my thighs, licking the sensitive skin just below my balls, then taking me back into his mouth again. By the time he finally stopped I was shaking.

Calum crawled back up my body and kissed me, letting me taste myself on his tongue. Then he reached down, spat into his palm, and slicked himself. The thick head of his cock pressed against my hole.

“Look at me,” he said.

I did.

He pushed in.

The stretch was intense. I breathed through it while he sank deeper, inch by thick inch, until his hips were flush against my ass. We stayed locked like that for a few seconds, both of us just breathing, foreheads pressed together.

Then Calum started to move.

He fucked me slow at first, deep strokes that dragged every inch of him in and out. One hand braced beside my head, the other gripping my thigh, holding me open. I could feel every ridge and vein of him. Every time he bottomed out I made a broken sound against his mouth.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Take it. You’re doing so fucking good for me.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him deeper. Calum groaned and kissed me harder, the rhythm of his hips picking up. The bed started to creak under us. The wet sound of his cock moving inside me filled the room. He shifted the angle and suddenly he was hitting that spot on every thrust. My cock was trapped between our stomachs, leaking steadily onto his skin. I was gonna cum so fast.

“Fuck— Ash—”

He drove into me harder, less careful now, the solid weight of his body pinning me down. I could feel the power in him, the year of nothing turning into pure need. His mouth moved to my neck, biting gently, then harder. I tilted my head to give him more room.

“I’m close,” I gasped.

“Me too. Cum for me. I want to feel it while I’m inside you.”

A few more deep thrusts and I came hard between us, spilling over both our stomachs. The way I clenched around him pulled Calum over the edge right after. He buried himself to the hilt, groaned against my neck, and came in thick, heavy pulses deep inside me. I felt every spurt. He kept thrusting through it, short and messy, until there was nothing left.

We stayed locked together afterward, chests heaving, his cock still twitching inside me. Calum eventually eased out and rolled onto his side, pulling me with him so we were face to face. His cum started to leak out of me onto the sheets. He watched it for a second, then looked back at my face.

He reached out and brushed his thumb across my lower lip.

“This is going to get complicated,” he said quietly.

I held his gaze.

“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”

He didn’t look away.

Neither did I.

Outside, the city kept moving. Inside the room, the only sound was both of us trying to catch our breath, the sheets wrecked, the air thick with sex, and the clear understanding that six months was going to be a very long time to stay just friends…