Chapter 116: Reid, Fuck Me

​My breath caught completely in my throat, my entire body locking up for a fraction of a second. The word boyfriend coming out of his mouth in that context sent a staggering, intense shockwave straight to my core.

​I stared into his grey eyes, seeing the genuine, patient restraint behind them, and a sudden realization hit me.

He didn’t just start trying to be a boyfriend right now. He had already been trying during our last session. My mind flashed back to the way he had handled me then—the slow, agonizingly steady thrusts that completely stripped away my defenses, driving me closer to the edge than his usual rough dominance ever could.

He had been after my sanity from the very beginning, and looking at him now, waiting for my permission on the floor, I knew he had it. He had won it completely.

​The dependency flared up, thick and heavy, my inner Omega responding to his request before my mouth even could.

​"You really... don’t give me a break, do you?" I breathed, my voice barely a whisper against his lips. My fingers tightened in his blonde hair, pulling him down that final, torturous inch until our lips were brushing. "Yes. You can."

The kiss that followed felt entirely different from any we’d shared before. The moment my permission left my lips, Reid leaned down and took my mouth with a slow, deep deliberation that made my knees feel weak all over again.

There was no rush, no desperate scramble to pin me down or force my compliance. It was just the heavy, searing warmth of his lips sealing the contract we’d just written on the floor.

​An involuntary, breathy sigh escaped my throat, and Reid used the sound to slip his tongue past my lips, tasting me thoroughly, possessively, but with a gentleness that made my chest ache.

​His large hands slid down from my waist, his palms flat and warm against the bare skin of my thighs as he slowly shifted his weight between my legs. The thick, intoxicating scent of frozen pine flared around us, turning heavy and dark with a kind of heat that completely erased the cold air in the guest room.

​When he finally parted our lips by a fraction of an inch, his eyes were almost entirely black in the shadows, his pupils blown wide as he looked down at me. His chest heaved against mine, his heartbeat a frantic, heavy thudding that mirrored my own.

​"I’m going to go slow, Cap," he whispered against my mouth, his voice rough and laced with a terrifyingly focused reverence. "I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to now."

"Just shut up and fuck me, McCoy," I hissed, the words tearing out of my throat as the friction of his weight against my thighs became entirely too much to bear.

​He didn’t move. Instead, he paused, his large hands anchoring firmer against my hips, his grey eyes locking onto mine with an unyielding, intense gravity that made my breath catch.

​"Reid," he said, his voice dropping into a solemn, rough register that vibrated straight through my chest. "Call me by my first name. Reid."

​I stared up at him, my heart doing a chaotic, violent flip against my ribs. To the world, to the team, and for the months we had spent tearing each other apart, he had always been McCoy—the arrogant rookie left wing I was supposed to keep in line. It’s not like I never called him Reid. I did. And even just now too, but it seemed like hearing his last name instead of his first name did not suit well with his mood.

On the ice, we could be Evans and McCoy, but right here, when it was just the two of us, it was just... Kain and Reid.

I looked into the fierce, possessive determination in his eyes right now, the titles felt completely hollow.

​My fingers tightened in his blonde hair, pulling his face down until his lips were brushing against mine, my orchid pheromones flaring thick and heavy in the space between us.

​"Reid," I breathed, the name tasting completely foreign but terrifyingly right on my tongue. "Fuck me."

A sudden, sharp shudder ran down his spine, his breath catching in his throat as the sound of his name finally breaking past my lips hit him.

​He didn’t wait another second. His large hands slid down to the waistband of my briefs, his movements urgent but careful as he pulled them down my legs, completely exposing my dick to the cool air.

I was aroused, my dick hard and resting against my stomach, despite the fact that I came not more than an hour ago.

The space only lasted for a heartbeat before the overwhelming heat of his body crowded right back over me.

​Reid reached down, freeing his own cock from his pants. It was already throbbing, fully hard, and radiating a fierce, heavy heat that left no doubt about what he was ready to do.

​He decided he wanted to be caring, so he stuck two of his fingers in his mouth and began to lick them, making sure they were thoroughly wet before sticking one in my back hole and sticking the other, my body tensing and shuddering as he tried to prep me carefully.

"You... you don’t have to do this," I said, my voice barely coming out.

I wasn’t used to him fingering me yet. Especially if it was before the intercourse.

The wet sounds of his fingers moving inside me echoed in the quiet room, driving my pulse to a frantic pace.

"I... We did it before so... So I’m not—"

​"I want to do it," Reid cut me off, his voice thick with a solemn, unyielding weight. "For all the times I was rough with you, tearing you open, I will be gentle now."

​No, you idiot. I don’t need you to be gentle. Just give me your cock.

​I inwardly wept, my head rolling back against the floorboards as a ragged, helpless groan caught in the back of my throat.

This guy had absolutely no idea that this whole process—stretching me out slowly while my dick was already fully hard and aching against my stomach—was pure, unadulterated mind torture.

The slow, deliberate friction inside me was building a completely different kind of pressure, a heavy, domestic heat that made my hole ache for the solid fullness of him.

​But he wasn’t done playing the attentive boyfriend.

​While two of his wet fingers kept up a steady, careful rhythm inside me, his other hand reached down and securely gripped the shaft of my dick.

"You..." I trembled.

His large palm was incredibly hot, his thumb casually sliding over the sensitive head, smearing the pre-cum that was already leaking out.

​The dual sensation hit me like a physical blow. My hips twitched involuntarily against the floor, my toes curling as a sharp, electric jolt shot straight to my stomach. He was managing both ends of me with a quiet, stubborn focus, making absolutely sure I was feeling every single contour of his touch in both the back and front.

​He was being a total busybody. Truly. Truly, stupidly... sweet.