Piece Us Together (Monstrous Survivors #3)

12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Hunter

I don’t know what’s more beautiful, Nolan falling apart for us or Maison finally losing control. The man is ravenous as he fucks into his boyfriend. When I tell him to flip Nolan onto his back, not wanting to have to worry about holding him up while we wring at least one more orgasm out of him, Maison doesn’t pause to adjust. He just manhandles Nolan into position, his cock never leaving the boy’s hole.

He likes this position better too, it seems. His eyes are blown as he greedily takes in every detail. His hands roam, rubbing at Nolan’s puffy nipples and stroking his sensitive cock. When Nolan starts to sob, I brace myself for Maison to panic.

He doesn’t.

“You poor thing,” he coos, leaning over so he’s hovering above him. It makes his cock drive deeper into Nolan from the sound the boy makes. “Shh. Isn’t this what you wanted? To be used? To make us happy?”

Nolan sucks in a water-logged breath, nodding frantically. He tries to say yes, but it’s broken, more of a whine than anything.

“You’re doing so well, baby.” Maison leans down further, bending his boyfriend in half as he brings his mouth down. He gives him the slightest brush of his lips before moving to his cheeks. I swallow a groan when I catch sight of his tongue darting out, licking up the fucking tears. He starts rutting into Nolan’s hole so hard the mattress is shaking beneath us. “Such a good boy,” he whispers before dropping his tear-soaked lips back to Nolan’s mouth.

It muffles the sound coming out of Nolan, but it’s still clear enough. The boy wails.

Maison pulls back to watch the same thing I was hoping to get to see—Nolan’s fifth orgasm.

The boy nearly convulses with it, his cock twitching pathetically as it tries to spill. Nothing is left though. The poor cock can do nothing but twitch, just like the boy it’s attached to.

“Wa-was it d-dry?” he asks through chattering teeth.

I answer him, letting him know it was while watching Maison carefully. Is Nolan going to ask to stop now? Will I need to —

Maison starts moving again, gently this time, just a sensual roll of his hips. Nolan sobs. “Nooo. I—I did it. I did it.”

“Oh, but darling, he’s not finished with you yet,” I tell him, giving Maison a nod when I realize he’s paused his movements again. “You can take a little more for him, can’t you? I know you can. You’d use your safeword if you couldn’t because you’re a good boy. Do you need to use your safeword, darling?”

“N-no, sir. No. Just—oh, god. Oooh. ”

“Just a little longer, baby,” Maison adds, his hips moving again. Nolan’s teeth are chattering as he trembles beneath the man he loves. “You’re so fucking good. Fuck. Just—just let me use you a little longer, yeah? I’m almost done.”

Oh fuck me, these two are entirely too fucking sexy.

Nolan cries, turning his head to the side. “Oh, god, please .”

I see something falter in Maison’s expression, his hips stuttering—and not in the way they would if he was about to finish. I jump in, grabbing Nolan by the hair and forcing him to look right at his boyfriend. “Stop complaining. You and I both know you’re fucking loving this. Tell him how much.”

“So much, so much, so much,” he sobs, his subtle trembles turning to shudders. I smirk as I watch his cock twitch and pulse, nothing coming out. Fresh tears fall down his cheeks as the sensation of what must be an incredibly overwhelming dry orgasm passes over him. Anything that falls from his lips after that is pure babble and pretty sounds.

“See, Maison?” I lock eyes with the man before flashing him a smirk. His breath hitches, his movements faltering. He’s too unraveled right now to pretend I don’t affect him. That could quickly become addicting if I’m not careful. “You’re giving your needy boy exactly what he needs, even if he’s whining about it. Fuck him harder. Use him.”

Relief floods his expression before it transforms into one of pure pleasure as he lets it overwhelm him completely. I watch. I can’t fucking help but watch. He’s impossibly beautiful with his slack jaw and flushed cheeks and the stray curl that’s fallen on his forehead. His broad shoulders shift beneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt with every push and pull of his hips. The muscles and veins in his arms stick out of his tan skin as his fingers flex.

Nolan is just as beautiful with his flushed skin and sprawled arms and puffy nipples. His tears have stopped, the boy now just blinking up at the ceiling with glazed eyes, trembling and panting as his boyfriend uses his hole to get off. His poor cock is lingering in a half-hard state, the skin bright red, dry at the slit, useless. He’s whispering something under his breath, his lips barely moving like even his mouth is tired. When I lean in, I hear the word he’s repeating. Green .

Green, green, green.

“Come on.” I start carding my fingers through Nolan’s hair, knowing why he’s repeating that word, knowing he’s playing with the idea of the word yellow . I settle my eyes on Maison’s face. I want to see him when he comes. Last time I was focused on his body as he pounded his way to an orgasm, but tonight I want to see more. I want to see the one thing he tries so hard to keep carefully concealed any other time. I want to see Maison , unraveled, unashamed, unmasked. “He’s been so fucking good. Give him your cum, Maison. Fill him up. He’s earned it.”

Nolan turns his head, pressing his face against my tired but willing-to-become-interested cock, his sobs hot and rumbly against me.

“Go ahead, darling,” I murmur, using my hand in his hair to guide him to a better angle. “Take it in that pretty mouth of yours. Needy little cockslut needs something to suck on, hm?”

He gives me a jerky nod before hurrying to wrap his lips around my cock. I groan at the sudden wet warmth. His suckling is fucking frantic. Desperate. He’s using it to soothe himself.

I look up just in time for Maison’s movements to start stuttering, his chest heaving with the depth of his breaths. His head slowly falls back, his jaw loose, his pink tongue darting along his bottom lip before tucking into the corner and settling there.

His eyes close as a shudder runs through his whole body. He thrusts twice more before turning his movements into more of a grind instead of thrusting. Like he’s trying to get his cum as deep inside of Nolan as he can.

When he straightens his head, his eyes fall open. He’s completely unguarded in the moment as he looks right into my eyes. My lungs seem to forget how to breathe at the sight before me.

There are no more walls keeping me out. There’s no false confidence, no misplaced anger, no underlying worry. This is just Maison , raw and open and unbelievably vulnerable. Even his body is loose and relaxed. His breathing is steady. His shoulders are dropped, no longer tense under the weight of the world. There’s trust in his expression. Trust and relief. So much fucking relief.

His breath catches as his lips move to form a silent word I can’t quite make out. Then he drops his head low to hide.

I know before he even looks back up that I’ve already lost that version of him. But I saw it. Just for a second, I saw it. Saw him . The real Maison, when he forgets the rest of the world exists.

And I’ll be damned if I’m not going to figure out a way to get that version back for good.