Miles was soft, careful, and hesitant with his touches. He was a gentle lover, someone that took time with you to discover what you enjoyed because his own innocence prior to getting into this arrangement had hindered him in experiencing the sexual pleasures the world could offer him. With you he felt safe, with you he felt like he could do no wrong, that the hands that had shot countless people were pure and had no blood on them. He forgot about the past when he was with you, and relished in every moment you touched him and kissed his face or body, and that was enough for him. He memorized you just like he memorized scriptures in his bible, eyes wide and wandering, letting you guide him to wherever you needed him and he followed you willingly like he was your disciple of pleasure. When he kissed you it was always messy, spit slicked from his drooling, but there was such gratitude behind it, such awe, because he loved the fact that you willingly gave yourself to him. And when he came apart, it was with your name on his lips, with soft broken whines escaping him as he clutched your body to his and held you like you were his absolution.

Rhett–on the other hand–was the counterweight.

Where Miles hesitated, Rhett was always sure with whatever he did to you. He knew exactly what he wanted, and what you needed, and he gave it to you without question. His hands were rough from years of ranch work, calloused and always meticulous, but when they closed around your hips or throat or slid between your thighs, there was nothing clumsy in the way he handled you. He read your body language as if you were his favourite book–anticipating every shift, every gasp, every clench of muscle, and every moment you grabbed for him or scratched his flesh.

He loved starting slow with you, running the tips of his fingers over your flesh, mapping every sensitive inch like it was his job, making you arch into his touch, and beg for more–building you up until you were at the point of delirium. He loved the way your breath would catch and then rush out when he finally gave you more, but he always made sure it wasn’t enough. He liked the power in it–the way you and Miles both handed him the control without a second thought, trusting him to fill the spaces that Miles left behind–and Rhett wore that responsibility like it was a badge of honour. It fed something deep within him–something hungry and ravenous–the same thing that made his voice drop when he told you exactly how he was going to make you fall apart on him.

And you–you were the star they orbited, the place where their differences stopped clashing and started to compliment each other in ways that left all three of you breathless and spent. Miles’ gentle exploration softened the edges of Rhett’s dominance, and Rhett’s confidence gave Miles permission to discover what he liked, to reach out for things he would never let himself imagine until now. Together they created something balanced, something electric, something that felt inevitable the longer you let it unfold.

Lately, though, Rhett had been watching more closely.

For weeks he had catalogued every careful caress Miles gave you, every time those wide wet eyes flicked up in silent question, every moment he held back even as lust burned behind his lashes. Rhett could see the hunger there–the kind that wanted to forego asking–and it had frustrated him. He knew you were always open and willing to give anything either of them wanted; he had felt it in the way your body yielded under his own hands night after night, pliant and eager to please. But the fact that Miles wasn’t claiming that same surrender made something twist up inside him. He needed a lesson in reading the language your body already spoke so fluently, or better yet, he needed a lesson in taking.

Because Miles wasn’t like that with Rhett. With him, the hesitation vanished. Miles gave and took so easily–teeth scraping along the tendon at the side of his neck, tongue dragging hot down the center of his chest, hands emboldened as they would grip at his hips to pull him closer without a single whispered permission. He used his mouth and fingers without question or second-guessing, running off of pure, greedy need. That was exactly what Rhett wanted him to do with you. And he was going to make sure that Miles would learn how to treat you with the same hunger he showed when it was them getting tangled up in the dark.

—————

When Rhett arrived home that night, you and Miles were curled up together on the couch, his taller frame eclipsing half of yours as you held him close, fingers threading slowly through the soft, soft locks of his hair. The nightly news was playing in the background while the two of you mindlessly listened, but the warmth of his body against yours had long since pulled your attention elsewhere, allowing the weight of his body to settle deep in your bones.

The sound of the door closing made you both perk up, heads turning toward the entryway. Rhett stood there for a beat, taking a breath, before he pulled off his hat and tossed it onto the side table, letting his greasy, sweat dampened hair out from its confines, allowing the light brown strands to frame his face. His keys and wallet followed with a quiet clatter, ignoring the key posts that were right beside the door, opting to have everything in one place rather than spread out. He kicked his boots off in the hallway, the heavy thud echoing his long day–his exhaustion–then he finally stepped fully into the living room.

He was a vision of raw, hard-worked masculinity. Sweat glistened his skin, his cheeks and throat were flushed by the undying Wabang sun, and his thin white t-shirt–stained with mud, oil, and fine specks of sawdust–clung damply to every line of him. The fabric had turned nearly translucent in places, molding to the solid planes of his chest, showing off his tattoos and the ridged contours of his abdomen, the short sleeves straining against the corded muscle of his flexed arms, as if they were going to tear the material. The veins along his forearms were raised, racing up and bulging from the manual labour he had been putting himself through all day, and it gave you the urge to get up just to lick along them, but you stayed still.

The scent of him reached the both of you even from across the room: crisp evening air laced with pine, fresh grass, and a faint trace of woodsmoke, earthy and potent and absolutely intoxicating. It was the mark of a man who had spent the day breaking his body for the land, and now that he was home he was finally getting the break he needed.

Both you and Miles stared in open admiration at him, feeling your bellies tightening at the sight of him like this–solid, glistening with sweat, and radiating an unfiltered strength that always seemed to make the three of you crave one another even more.

Rhett leaned against the frame of the living room, arms crossing over his chest, pulling the fabric of his t-shirt tighter to show off the curve of his shoulders. A slow, knowing smile came up on his lips as he took in the two of you, the way you were so relaxed with each other, wrapped up in each others embraces even when the air inside the house was thick with humidity. 

“Enjoyin’ yourselves?” He asked playfully, raising his eyebrows at the two of you. Miles shifted, pushing himself up from where he had been nestled against your chest until he sat properly on the cushion beside you. His eyes lingered on Rhett, his skin flushing as if he had been caught doing something wrong–though it was just his nerves playing up through his flesh.

“Just…Relaxing,” He responded, the word coming out a touch breathier, trying to steady the rapid beating of his heart. He glanced over at you as your feet slid into his lap, his warm hands immediately wrapping around them, pressing his thumbs into the soles in a nervous, soothing massage. 

Rhett gave the both of you a small smile, but you were far more observant than Miles and sensed there was something playing up behind his eyes–something meticulous, calculated, like he had something planned. His gaze drifted over you, trailing up the length of your bare legs until it lingered at the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, focusing on where it rode high on your thighs, his attention sticking to your flesh like a magnet.

“Hmm, sounds nice,” He said, as his eyes flicked back up to meet yours, making you squint at him, cocking an eyebrow up. He let the silence stretch just long enough for the tension to coil tighter in the room, allowing the three of you to settle for a moment.

Then, with his voice dropping lower, he asked, “You guys wanna come to the bedroom with me?” 

And as if the words had triggered some Pavlovian response that was etched into your nervous systems, both you and Miles sprang up from the couch at the same time, stretching your sleepy limbs with slow arches of your backs and rolls of your shoulders. The movement felt almost preparatory, like the two of you were about to go out for a marathon without any training. 

“Sure!” The both of you said in unison, your voices overlapping in perfect sync and carrying the same unmistakable edge of desperation–like you had been waiting just for this very moment to come, the opportunity to get out all the pent-up sexual energy out all together rather than just with each other. An awkward laugh bubbled out between you, the shared eagerness impossible to hide. Miles’ blush deepened across his cheeks, a warm flush that now began to creep down the sides of his neck, disappearing beneath his navy t-shirt, his eyes flicking over to you before going over to Rhett, his stomach turning in anticipation.

Rhett’s smirk only grew at that, the corners of his mouth tugging upward until the faint lines at the edges of his eyes crinkled. He always enjoyed this–the way the two of you responded to him with such immediate, unguarded readiness, like every part of you had been waiting for the shift in his voice, and the weight of his intentions. It flattered him, feeding that quiet authority he carried as the unlabeled head of the household, and he felt it in his chest, the sense of being the one who set the pace, where the both of you came to him so willingly, and so completely. 

Without another word he pushed off the frame, and turned down the hallway. You and Miles followed close behind, the floorboards creaking in a symphony of steps that only built the heat that was growing in your bellies–that soft bloom that only unfurled when you both knew that it was going to be a night of pure lust and heat.

Rhett opened the bedroom door and left it ajar, stepping inside first so you could both trail in after him. 

The room was well kept, thanks to the years of housekeeping experience from Miles, with a king size bed against the far wall dressed in deep green linens and side tables that were crowded with small treasures collected from your antique store outings and greenhouse visits–brass lamps that were given new life by Rhett, a variety of succulents that Miles refused to leave the store without, and the simple rings that the three of you wore when you stepped out into the world together, that now rested in a shallow dish because inside these walls the bond didn’t need to be proved to anyone.

Off to the side sat your work desk, its surface scattered with crumpled scrap papers bearing half-forgotten meeting notes and your laptop that was still open, with its screen that had long since gone dark from the lack of interaction. The chair had been pushed back slightly from where you had abandoned it earlier, the leather seat still warm from the hours you had spent tethered to back-to-back calls.

Normally you migrated between the desk and the living room couch, chasing the change of scenery while Miles moved quietly through the house, but today the pull of his company after his morning cleaning spree had been too strong to resist.

Miles had carved out his place here with the same devotion he brought to everything he did with you and Rhett. He hated that the both of you had to carry the weight of providing for the household, but the destruction of the El Royale had left him with scars far deeper than the ones that still shadowed his flesh and with the past that he had, it made stepping back into any kind of public work nearly impossible.

You and Rhett had shut down the idea of him returning to that life–even if he was working at a rundown motel in Wabang–insisting instead on the steady comfort of having him here, filling the house with order and warmth in ways neither of you could manage alone. He still felt the sting of it sometimes, the sense that he wasn’t pulling his weight, but the way you both thanked him–with touches and kisses, with praise, and with the simple relief of coming home to a space that felt like a sanctuary built for just you three–eased the edges of that doubt tenfold.

You and Miles watched as Rhett crossed to the casement windows, his arms flexing as he unlocked each one and pushed them open. The evening breeze slipped inside, stirring the sheer curtains and flooding the room with the clean scent of freshly cut grass and hay, letting the coolness of it linger against his sun-kissed skin.

He always prepared the space with this meticulous ritual–finding ways to adjust the temperature until it hovered at a perfect middle ground, enough to bring down the fever that still clung to him after a full day under the Wabang sun, but never enough to raise goosebumps on either of you when you were bare and open beneath him. Your comforts mattered to him, and he made that known in these effortless little ways. 

He moved to the bed next, his large hands grasping the edge of the pristine sheets Miles had smoothed to military form that morning, and steadily he drew them down to the foot of the bed, folding them neatly to preserve the order he knew Miles took pride in. It was a small gesture, but one that Rhett never skipped.

When he finally turned back to face you both, a slow sigh left his lips and his hands settled on his hips, the motion stretching the sweaty fabric of his shirt across his chest again, and your eyes couldn’t help but catch the faint outline of his nipples.

“So…Are y’all goin’ to come over and give me a kiss or do I have to do everythin’?” He asked teasingly, his drawl roughening from the dryness that he had been in all day. 

Miles was the one to move first, his feet carrying him across the room with a soft shuffle, and you followed close behind. Rhett bent slightly at the waist, his large veined hand coming up to cradle Miles’ cheek, feeling the pressure of him leaning into the touch–chasing it as if he was going to pull away prematurely. His calloused thumb brushed over his heated flesh, taking in the softness and the warmth there, running over the pockmarked scars from the shotgun gun pellets he had been hit with the night the El Royale burned down, tracing his touch up to the delicate skin beneath his eye before leaning in. The kiss was deep but extremely controlled as Miles’ mouth opened eagerly under his, tasting the salt of sweat on Rhett’s upper lip and letting out a quiet, broken whimper of relief that vibrated against his mouth, and even though Rhett wanted to absolutely lose control just from hearing that sound he knew he had to keep himself in check. Reluctantly, he pulled back, sucking on Miles’ tongue as he did so, like he was sending a final strike to his nervous system before anything could flare out into a heat of tangled bodies. 

Then he turned to you, his other hand rising to catch your chin between his calloused fingers, tilting your face up so he could hold your gaze for a moment. The blue of his eyes caught in the low evening light, bright and intent beneath the sweat-dampened strands of hair falling across his forehead, and you felt the weight of his focus settle over you like a physical touch. Your own eyes softened at the edges, wide and wanting, the kind of look that always made something possessive flare in his chest–to know that you were his, just like he and Miles were yours. He took it all in–the parted lips, the quickened pulse that he felt against his fingers, the way you looked like a doe–and a small, private smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he closed the distance.

His lips met yours, firm and wet from the kiss with Miles, carrying the faint mint of his toothpaste that was undercut by something far deeper, hotter even: the raw, masculine taste of him after a long day, salt and heat and the faint trace of the cigarette that he had smoked on his walk back to the house. The scrape of his stubble dragged across your skin, while his tongue slid against yours in one slow stroke, tasting the sweetness of you like he wanted it ingrained into his blood stream. You could feel heat flooding low in your belly at the contact, and the temptation to pull him closer burned deep in your body, but just before you could hook your fingers into his belt loops, he broke the kiss. 

He breathed out along your damp lips, cooling the slick saliva he had left behind, feeling you shiver beneath his touch.

When your eyes fluttered open again, that small, knowing smile still played across Rhett’s mouth–the one that surfaced only when something in his mind had finally clicked into place, and you caught it immediately.

“You planning something, Rhett?” You teased, a mischievous smirk curving your own lips. He let out a low huff of laughter, giving a small shake of his head, before his touch slipped away from the both of you. He stepped back toward your desk, fingers wrapping around the headrest of the leather office chair. The muscles in his arms flexed as he rolled it across the wooden floor, positioning it carefully at the side of the bed and swivelling it to face the mattress.

“You know I always am…” He commented, squeezing the leather in his grip until the veins in his forearms jumped beneath the surface of his skin. You raised an eyebrow at him, glancing briefly at Miles–who was already watching with wide expectant eyes–before returning your attention to Rhett.

“Care to share?” You asked, watching as Rhett let out a small sigh, and shifted his gaze to Miles. He observed the way the other man’s hands twisted together nervously in front of him, knuckles paling against the fabric of his pyjama pants. He was always jealous of the way you were able to interpret Rhett’s body language so easily–as if you were able to read his mind like he were an open book to you only–and he couldn’t help but wring his hands even more in anticipation for what was about to be said.

The tension in the room was high, and from the silence you knew that there was certainly something bouncing around in Rhett’s head as he made his way around the chair to stand in front of the both of you again.

“I’ve been wantin’ to give Miles a lesson on how to be a little more…Assertive with you…” He started, choosing his words carefully, being mindful of the language he was using, “And since he’s a little more inexperienced with that sort of thing, I was thinkin’ maybe we can give him a demonstration before lettin’ him try things out on his own.” He continued, looking between the two of you as he spoke.

At the mentioning of his inexperience, Miles’ cheeks burned a deeper shade of red that seemed impossible to achieve unless the person was on the brink of combustion, his lashes fluttering as he absorbed the words that Rhett spoke. He could feel the blaze of heat rushing beneath his shirt, flushing him and setting him alight like he was a walking billboard of embarrassment. He could never hide these feelings, and if he had the choice he would’ve wanted to be stoic during this conversation.

Because Miles knew where he stood when it came to the relationship dynamic–he knew he was still catching up, and that Rhett’s experience with women would always dwarf his own–but the balance had always been a key part of what made this whole arrangement work. Now the idea of shifting the dynamic left him visibly unsettled, and his mind was racing at a thousand miles a minute–the thought that he wasn’t good enough in providing the pleasure you needed, the fact that he was just too soft for you. He knew what Rhett said wasn’t meant to offend him but he found himself overthinking it completely.

Through his eyes the gentleness he provided had always been a safeguard of sorts; he needed to know you were okay with anything he did, needed to hear and feel every response from you so he could chase your pleasure without possibly hurting you or causing you any pain. He had the fear of losing control–of slipping back into the man he was guilty of being so long ago. It made his stomach twist up into knots and bile creep up his throat.

You looked over at him, noticing the way he stared down at the floorboards beneath his feet, hands wringing tighter now–like he was two seconds from folding in on himself–and you could see the vulnerability that Rhett’s idea exposed. As much as you liked the idea of Rhett making a lesson out of you, your mind was immediately preoccupied with Miles and what he wanted. You didn’t want to do this unless he was okay with it, and judging by the anxiousness that was seeping out through his body language it was evident he was hesitant. 

“Miles…Baby…Are you okay?” You asked softly, the words pulling him from his daze. He lifted his head, offering a small, meek smile that didn’t quiet reach his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” He replied, but the embarrassment bled through his voice, his throat constricting from the nerves that were inching up his body. You felt a pang of sympathy twist in your chest, as you brought your attention to Rhett, who had clearly caught it too–his eyes softening with a flicker of regret while he stepped closer to Miles, bringing his hand to his shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to do it, it was just an idea…I shouldn’t have brought it up–“

“No, no…I want to do it. Let’s try it out,” Miles interrupted, his gaze darting from you to Rhett, his voice coming out steadier now even as the flush remained high on his cheeks. Rhett’s brows pulled together, the faint crease between them deepening with genuine concern as he stepped close enough that the heat of his body pressed against Miles. He could see the sweat that was clinging to the hollow of his throat and when he breathed in he could smell the warmth that was radiating off his skin, which calmed him immediately. 

Miles tilted his head back, his sapphire-blue eyes meeting Rhett’s, with his lashes fluttering  under the watchful intensity of his stare.

“Miles…If you’re really not comfortable with it you don’t have to say yes. I don’t wanna pressure you into somethin’ like this, and I don’t wanna force this if you’re not goin’ to enjoy it, so just be honest…Do you really want to do this?” He questioned, seeking the truth or reassurance from him that he wasn’t putting his comfort aside just to satisfy this request. He knew Miles was a people pleaser through and through and it wasn’t something he wanted to take advantage of just so he could teach him this silly little lesson. He was regretting even bringing it up at this point, and was rethinking how he could’ve done this better so it wouldn’t have put a spotlight on his inexperience.

But Miles held his gaze without flinching, his irises catching the last of the evening light that was filtering through the sheer curtains, and he could see the steadiness within them. Miles knew that if he looked away even for a second, Rhett would immediately scrap the entire plan, so he forced himself to keep his eyes on his. 

He trusted Rhett with his life, and he knew that even though he had this initial discomfort regarding the idea, Rhett would never push him past his limits–he knew them better than Miles himself did. He also understood the value of what Rhett was offering: a chance to push beyond the hesitation that lived within him, to learn how to take what you so willingly gave him, to explore you with an unrestrained hunger without worrying about whether or not you were enjoying it because it would be evident in the way you reacted to him. It had the potential to deepen the connection, to broaden the ways he could pull pleasure from you until you were as lost in him as he was in you. 

He lifted his hand, fingers sliding over the prominent veins on the back of Rhett’s, and squeezed it firmly.

“I want to do this, I promise,” He reassured, keeping his voice steady. Rhett searched his face for a moment, the tension in his body easing only when he found what he was looking for–the lack of hesitation in Miles’ gaze. He gave a small nod.

“Alright…But if you get uncomfortable at all you need to tell us, okay?” Miles offered a small smile.

“Of course.” He replied, feeling Rhett’s grip on his shoulder easing, his thumb brushing over the line of his collarbone before leaning in to kiss him. This one was softer, gentler, a slow press of mouths that carried gratitude and reassurance in equal measure–something that Rhett couldn’t express with his words in those moments. Miles’ lips parted instantly, deepening it just enough to taste him, a quiet needy sound slipping from him before Rhett pulled back. He let out a sigh that ghosted warm across Miles’ lips, then he reached for your hand, his calloused fingers intertwining with yours to give them a small squeeze. His touch was electric, and you could feel the hairs on your arms rise at the contact, like he had triggered your nervous system to go into overdrive.

“Go take your throne then,” Rhett instructed, motioning toward the leather office chair with a small, crooked smirk that deepened the laughter lines around his mouth. Miles let out a soft, surprised laugh, breaking the thick tension in the room, before backing away slowly, letting his eyes flick once more between you and Rhett, lowering himself into the chair. The leather creaked under his weight, the cushion of the seat giving slightly as it molded to his thighs and back, settling in and adjusting his posture until he could lean into it comfortably, resting his hands on the armrests. His fingers traced the faint flaking patches along the edges of it–places where you had absentmindedly picked at the material during your meetings–and ran his thumb over the texture before lifting his gaze back to the two of you–an expectant look flickering in his eyes.

Rhett gave him an approving smile.

“You look like a businessman,” He commented teasingly, as he gently guided you closer, “You should get a job with Y/N…You’d fit right in.”

The remark drew a genuine laugh from both you and Miles, as you shook your head, not because you didn’t believe he could do it, but because you actually agreed with the statement. Rhett had always possessed a rare ability to cut through heavy moments with dry humour, even when the words landed flat as desert dust. It eased the knot in your chest, the one that had slowly tangled in the midst of the conversation between Rhett and Miles, and it reminded you how carefully he was able to balance the both of you and ground you guys even when it seemed like it was close to impossible. 

When you stepped fully into his space, Rhett’s free hand settled heavy on your hip. His palm was broad and warm, and you could feel the roughness of it through the worn fabric of the shirt you were wearing. His thumb traced the tight line of your panties, pressing just enough to feel the elastic that was biting into your skin, releasing your fingers so he could cup your cheek instead. The calloused pads stroked slowly over your heated flesh, absorbing the way your warmth bled into his touch like it belonged to him.

“Ready to give our man a show, Sweetheart?” He asked, the words drawing out rough, like it was meant for your ears alone even though Miles was able to catch them. You hummed in agreement, reaching for the belt loops of his jeans, hooking your fingers tight into them before tugging him forward so your chest pressed flush to his. He could feel your nipples through the fabric of your shirt, as his sweat seeped through dampening your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. The rapid thud of his heartbeat met the frantic rhythm of yours, a cadence matching your shared excitement.

“You know I am,” You replied, your voice already breathy. You rose onto your tiptoes to kiss him, but Rhett met you halfway, a moan rumbling from his chest and vibrating against your lips as his fingers dug deeper into your hip, before snaking it around your waist, pulling the rest of you against him. Your thighs bumped his, and your pelvises aligned for a moment with a slow grind, making you feel the solid length of him, already half-hard beneath the denim, catching you slightly off balance. 

He took immediate advantage of the stumble, spinning the two of you smoothly so your back faced the bed, holding control of your movements so you didn’t fall. His body was caging yours, broad shoulders blocking Miles’ view for a moment before he shifted just enough to give the other man a clear line of sight. He could feel the heat in his body grow as he watched Rhett devour you, his tongue sliding deeper into your mouth, claiming the sweet taste that lived there with a slow stroke, his hand sliding down to grip the curve of your ass, kneading the flesh there, drawing out a little whimper from you.

There was something so erotic about watching the two of you fall into one another so easily, the way your hands travelled each other’s bodies without hesitation, without a single second thought. It was instinctive, ingrained so deep that it looked like breathing, and Miles felt the front of his pyjama pants tighten painfully along his crotch, his cock twitching hard at the sight. He shifted in the chair, the leather creaking under him as he attempted to coverup his erection, knowing that this was only the beginning of the lesson, and that it would possibly be a while until he got some sort of relief–though he couldn’t ignore the heat that was pooling in his belly, nor the sheen of sweat that was coating his temples.

When you broke the kiss it was only when air became necessary, your lips glistening with the wet glaze of Rhett’s spit, chest rising and falling fast as you looked up at him. His hand slid from your cheek down to the hem of your shirt, hooking his thumb beneath the fabric to rub at the soft skin of your hip. 

“Mind liftin’ your arms for me, baby? Wanna get a good look at you.” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours before moving back slightly to give you some space. You raised your arms above your head obediently, feeling Rhett’s hand slide up higher beneath the worn cotton, pushing it upward slowly. The fabric dragged over your torso and ribs, revealing the black cotton panties that were riding low on your hips, then the soft plane of your stomach, the curve of your waist, until it cleared the swell of your breasts and slipped free over your head. He tossed the shirt aside as if it was a scrap piece of material, not caring where it landed because his eyes were glued on the newly exposed skin that was bared to him. 

Neither Miles nor Rhett could tear their gaze off you, admiring the marks they had left on your flesh a few nights ago, the ones that mapped their shared hunger for you: the faint imprint of Rhett’s teeth on your shoulder, the cluster of darkening hickeys that were scattered along the tops of your breasts and nipples, the bruised fingerprints that were branded into the dip of your hips where Rhett had gripped you hard enough to leave evidence. Your body was a living record of them, a collage of pure devotion and obsession that went hand in hand, and the sight of it made Miles’s mouth go dry. The fact that he was able to bury himself inside your beautiful body every night or two was the most beautiful thing he could ever experience, and seeing you display yourself like this with such confidence always made him melt.

Rhett brought his hand up then, letting the tips of his fingers trace the marks, connecting them with an invisible like, as if he was creating constellations on your flesh. He followed the bite on your shoulder, then drifted lower to circle one of the hickeys on the soft swell of your breast, watching goosebumps ripple across your skin as the callouses grazed the sensitive peak of your nipple. You leaned into the touch immediately, a quiet breath catching in your throat.

“Mmm…Look at you,” He cooed, leaning down to press his mouth to the side of your neck, his stubble rasping against your flesh, burning just enough to make your eyes flutter shut. He breathed in deep, letting the warm cashmere scent of your lotion fill his lungs as his lips moved against your pulse point, giving it a gentle suck, “Such a pretty girl, wearin’ our marks with pride.” He added as his thumb and forefinger pinched your nipple, rolling it with just enough pressure to make you flinch against him, pulling a small gasp from your throat. He continued to leave kisses along your neck, letting his tongue flick out to taste the salty sweetness of your skin, widening his palm to cup the full weight of your breast so he could squeeze the plush flesh in his hand before sliding his touch higher to grip the side of your neck, steadying you when your knees wavered.

Miles stared, transfixed, at the way your spine curved so beautifully under Rhett’s hands, the subtle tremble in your thighs, the way your nipples had tightened into hard peaks from nothing more than his touch and the weight of two sets of eyes on you. 

Rhett’s breath ghosted hot against your jaw as he pulled back just enough to speak again.

“Go lay across the bed for me…” The instructions were so simple but it was the way Rhett said them that made your body shiver. You loved it when he took control, when he knew exactly how he wanted you, and you were going to listen to him like you were hanging on every word he spoke. 

His hand trailed down the valley of your spine, fingertips dragging slowly like hot wax melting into your skin, before he stepped aside to give you room, his touch leaving your body completely. 

You moved toward the mattress on unsteady legs, feeling a gust of cool air brushing over your bare skin, making your flesh draw tighter as you climbed onto the fresh green linens and stretched out on your back, your heart hammering in your chest and echoing through your ears. 

You brought your feet up, letting them settle on the bed before allowing your legs to fall open slowly, creating space for Rhett’s body while putting yourself on full display to him. The air brushed over the soaked black cotton of your panties, making the evidence of your arousal feel exposed, as the damp fabric clung to your core. Your pulse was throbbing heavy between your thighs, the ache escalating with every breath, and every second you laid there untouched, and you could feel yourself growing desperate for him to speed up the process.

Rhett’s eyes dropped instantly to the wet patch that darkened the center of your panties, his pupils blowing wide until only a thin ring of blue remained–like he was an apex predator and you the prey he locked in on. His jaw tightened, the muscle jumping beneath the stubble on his cheek, and Miles could see the way his chest expanded on a slow, controlled inhale, his nostrils flaring as he took in the sight of you completely at his mercy–beauty incarnate as he would describe it.

Without a word, Rhett reached down to the hem of his damp white t-shirt, peeling it upward in one smooth motion, the fabric catching briefly on the broad planes of his shoulders and sticking to his skin in patches before sliding free.

The evening light pouring through the open windows caught on every inch of newly exposed skin, highlighting the lean, sun-bronzed lines of his torso and the black ink of the bull rider tattoo that was etched across his right pec–which shifted every time he drew in a breath. A faint, silvery scar curved along the outer edge of his shoulder, catching the light just enough to stand out against the rest of his tanned skin–a display of the permanent injuries that he carried from his past circuits. His veins stood out along the front of his shoulders, and you could help but chase them down to where they disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans–seeing a set of them that framed his v-line in perfect symmetry. A light sheen of sweat was glistening faintly across his collarbones and the hollow of his throat, and now that the damp shirt was gone you could smell the muskiness of his skin–that natural pheromonal scent that drove you crazy every time you took in a breath to get more of it inside your lungs. You felt the urge to jump off the mattress to latch onto him, to clean his skin with your tongue, yet you remained still, biting into your lower lip to try and get a handle on your composure so you didn’t explode into a pit of flames.

You stared in open wonder at him, the same way you always did when he bared himself like this, like every piece of his body had been carved out just for you and Miles to admire. He was perfect in every sense of the word–the definition of handsome–and you loved the fact that he only belonged to the two of you. 

Miles’ breath stuttered audibly from the chair, his eyes wide as he drank in the sight of Rhett’s torso, noticing the scratch marks you had left along his ribcage that stood out like they were fresh–the red lines curving along the bones, raised over the tanned flesh. He was the image of power, and he loved every inch of it.

Rhett tossed the shirt aside without a second glance, letting the damp fabric hit the floor with a soft flop, before turning his attention back to you, his eyes darkening and locking onto yours as he crawled onto the bed. The mattress dipped deep under his weight, his knees sinking into the plush give of it, until he hovered directly above you, caging your body beneath the solid heat of his.

You could feel his jean-clad thighs pressing firmly against the backs of your own, holding your legs open so wide that you wouldn’t have been able to close them even if you tried. The rough denim dragged against your skin with every small shift of his body, feeling the heat of his skin radiating through the fabric, making your flesh prickle and burn from he point of contact. You could feel the thick, heavy line of his erection straining against the front of his jeans, pressing right against your soaked core through the thin, drenched barrier of your panties–the only thing that was keeping you from feeling him fully. The pressure was maddening–all-consuming, perfect yet not enough–and you couldn’t help but roll your hips up toward him, chasing the friction that you desperately needed, wordlessly begging him to give you more, but Rhett shifted back just enough to deny you of it, letting out a low growl of warning.

Rhett’s hands settled heavy on your thighs, the callouses on them scraping lightly over your smooth skin as he stroked slow circles along the sensitive flesh. The roughness of his palms make you quiver, each pass earning a small squirm from your body until his fingers trailed upward, framing the guests of your panties with both hands. His thumbs bracketed the soaked cotton on either side, pressing just enough to feel the heat and slickness seeping through the fabric, as a low hum of approval vibrated in his chest at the proof of how desperately you needed him.

He looked down at you then, his gaze burning through you while your lashes fluttered and trembled against your cheeks–completely flustered with the limited attention he was giving. You dragged in a shaky breath, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, visibly fighting the urge to grind yourself into his hands, to beg for more of this teasing pressure he was applying to you. Then he hooked two thick fingers beneath the edge of the fabric and pulled it away from you core, letting the cool evening air rush in to kiss the slickness coating you folds, before snapping the cotton back against your swollen core with a wet little sound that made your hips jerk. A needy whine slipped from your lips as you moved your body towards his again, frustration flashing hot in your eyes–like you were physically pleading with him to stop toying with you and finally give you what your entire being was screaming for.

“Haven’t even properly touched you yet and you’re soakin’ right through these little panties of yours,” Rhett commented, his voice low and rough with pure satisfaction. You could feel his thumbs dragging along the wet spot with featherlight slides, rubbing the soaked fabric directly over your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you before he pulled away his touch entirely, hearing a whine escape you.

He shifted down your body without breaking eye contact, placing slow, open-mouthed kisses down the center of your chest, his stubble rasping against your skin, leaving raised marks as he nipped at the sides of your breasts, adding fresh indents to the fading collection of hickeys already scattered there. His tongue flicked over the soft plane of your belly, kissing in random spots and sucking wherever he wanted, until his teeth grazed the lace outline of your waistband before settling fully between your spread thighs. 

With a firm push he slid you higher up the mattress until your head nearly dangled off the edge, adjusting you perfectly so your legs draped over his broad bare shoulders, cushioning them on the hard muscle there. The position kept you completely open to him, exposed and helpless under the weight of his stare–like he was appraising you and the sight of your arousal in front of him.

In your peripheral vision Miles shifted restlessly, one hand pressing down over the obvious tent straining the front of his pyjama pants as he tried to adjust himself to hide it. His cheeks were flushed a deep, splotchy red, eyes glistening with pure fascination and wonder  as he watched every precise movement and hung on every word.

He had always been an eager participant when it came to warming you up for something like this, but seeing Rhett take control–watching the exactness of his hands, hearing the low timbre of his voice, the way he commanded and folded your body without a single wasted motion–had him mentally cataloging every detail, even though he knew he could never replicate it exactly. 

When Rhett pressed his nose against the soaked center of your panties, your attention was immediately drawn back down to him, a little gasp escaping your throat as he inhaled deeply, pulling the rich, musky sweetness of your arousal straight into his lungs like he needed it in every inch of him. He could feel his mouth watering at the scent, and he could’ve sworn he felt his veins pulsing with the essence of you when he let his hot breath ghost through the cotton, warming your clit. Your walls clenched even at the minor tease, and you squirmed against him once again.

“Is that what a lil bit of kissin’ does to you, baby?” He asked, the words vibrating against your core as he pressed his open mouth to the damp fabric, swiping his tongue along the spot and smearing his built up saliva over it to taste the arousal that had already leaked through. Your back arched off the mattress in response, a broken moan tearing from your throat as your fingers flew down to fight tight in his hair. You tugged hard, desperate for more, and Rhett groaned against you, relishing in the desperate plead, but once again he pulled back, fighting your grip to turn his head and nip at the soft skin of your inner thigh–silently communicating that he wanted you to answer him rather than moan.

“Yes…Yes, that’s what it does to me…” You admitted, your voice breathy and wrecked, like you were on the verge of tears. Rhett’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk against your thigh, pressing a lingering kiss to the spot he’d bitten.

“I’m glad…Give me a whole lotta pride that I can get you goin’ so easily.” He murmured, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties, tugging lightly, “Now lift your butt up for me so I can take these off you.” 

Immediately, you obeyed without a second thought, lifting your hips from the mattress in an arch that pressed your shoulders deeper into the cool linens. Rhett’s fingers hooked deeper into the waistband in tandem with your movements, dragging them down the length of your thighs slowly, the drenched cotton clinging to you for a moment before peeling away completely. The cool evening air washed over your newly exposed skin, sending a fresh ripple of goosebumps racing across your belly and up your ribs, making you shiver at the feeling. Rhett shifted back just long enough to get the material off from around your ankles before flicking the ruin fabric toward Miles; the black cotton sailing through the low light before landing warm and heavy across the front of Miles’ pyjama pants, right over the rigid outline of his cock.

His breath hitched at the sight, his long fingers instantly closing around the panties to lift them to the light and into his line of sight. The gusset was glistening with threads of your arousal–stretching and catching the brightness in the room like liquid silk. He stared at the evidence of how thoroughly Rhett had already worked you up, and the sheer image of it made his mouth flood with saliva. Without thinking, he pressed the fabric to his face–burying his nose and cheeks into the warm wetness that greeted him like a homecoming–inhaling the heady scent of you in one long, greedy pull, mirroring Rhett’s actions. The musk of your need coated his skin, dampening his flesh with a slickness that he never wanted to escape, and a broken sound left his mouth as his eyes fluttered shut. He was hypnotized by the scent, so much so that it almost physically hurt him to pull the panties away, but when he did a thin string of your wetness still connected them to his lower lips before it snapped–breaking the spell that he was under. Completely dazed, he let the fabric drop back into his lap, his eyes glassy and hazy as they returned to the bed.

Rhett had already settled between your spread thighs again, his broad shoulders flexing as he hooked your legs over them, your calves draping down the firm planes of his back. He lowered his head until his mouth hovered barely an inch from your bare core, close enough that the heat of his breath fanned across your swollen clit, but not close enough that if you moved you would be able to feel his mouth.

His gaze traced every detail he could take in: the way your entrance fluttered, the glossy sheen coating your fold, the slow trickle of fresh arousal that slipped free and slid down toward the cleft of your ass, soaking into the sheets beneath you with dewy streaks. You felt utterly exposed, pinned open beneath the weight of his hungry stare, and you couldn’t help but shift around in your spot, hoping that it would get him to move to where you needed.

But Rhett couldn’t grant that relief just yet–he needed to take his time, he needed to draw this out–so he moved back slightly, settling at your knees. He looked up at you through his lashes, kissing a slow, open-mouthed path up the inside of one thigh, then the other, scraping his teeth and stubble along the sensitive skin there just to feel the way your muscles jumped, nuzzling into the flesh and relishing in how you squeezed around his head every once in a while. 

When he finally reached your core again, he let a thick strand of spit out of his mouth, watching it drip between your folds and mix with your arousal before dragging his heavy tongue from your dripping entrance all the way up to your clit in one long, drawn out stroke. The wet heat of it pulled a shattered moan from your chest, and out of instinct your fingers dove into his hair, gripping the sweat-dampened strands for purchase as your hips moved off the bed.

Rhett hummed in approval, the vibration rolling straight through your body and shaking your insides, pushing your thighs higher, folding you nearly in half so your knees pressed to your stomach, spreading you even wider. The new angle left nothing hidden to him, granting him the space to bury into you fully without any obstruction–and he was going to take advantage of it. He licked into you like a man starved of air–tongue pushing deep inside you, curling and stroking along your inner walls to gather every drop of your honey-like arousal before sliding back up to circle your clit, flicking the hardened bud quickly. He sucked the swollen bud between his lips, starting with a gentle suction and building it until your hips jerked and another fresh gush of slick coated his chin.

The sounds filling the room were absolutely obscene: the wet glide of his tongue, the lewd suck of his mouth, the low appreciative groans that vibrated through Rhett’s chest every time your thighs tightened around his head, and the soft creaks from the boxspring beneath the mattress that squeaked every time Rhett pushed his face deeper into you. Your own moans were spilling freely from your throat, breathy and broken, each one feeding the fire in Rhett’s eyes as he felt your body arching off the mattress, so you could grind along his face, seeking more from him. 

Miles watched every second of it, absolutely transfixed by the sight, bringing his hand down to his erection straining against his pyjama pants to give it a small squeeze, feeling the wetness of his precum soaking through the fabric and coating his palm. The way your body writhed beneath Rhett, the small tugs you gave to his hair, and those filthy sounds that were escaping the both of you was making it hard for him to not touch himself, and he had to give his cock at least a little bit of relief, so he continued to squeeze the thickness through the barrier, palming himself as slowly as possible so he could keep his erection maintained–knowing that if he came he wouldn’t be able to get it back up for a while.

Rhett moved away from your core just enough to speak, his lips, chin and cheeks shining with your arousal as his tongue came out to lick the sheen that coated his flesh.

“You seein’ how easy she opens up to me, Miles?” He asked, dragging the flat of his tongue through your folds again, before glancing up at him, feeling you squirming for more, “She doesn’t even have to tell me where she wants me…It’s all in her body language. Look at her hips movin’ to try and put my mouth back on her…She can’t even bear to have it off her pussy for more than a few seconds ‘cause she needs it so badly…Don’t you, baby?” You let out a whimper, rolling your hips up in a desperate search for his mouth, chasing the heat that he had stolen away from you.

“Yes–Rhett, please–“

Before you could even finish the plea, he was on you again, rewarding your honestly by sealing his mouth over your aching clit with a hunger that bordered on ravenous. His lips wrapped tight around the swollen bud, sucking in deep, rhythmic pulls that had you arching into him as a white-hot heat sparked up your spine. Your fingers twisted harder into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp while you bucked your hips up against his face, chasing the relentless pressure of his tongue.

He answered the frantic movements by sliding both hands under the backs of your thighs, gripping the soft flesh hard enough to leave fresh fingerprints while pinning you firmly to the mattress so you couldn’t move away. You could feel the muscles in your belly clenching and tightening, as a sweet burn bloomed through them from the position you were in, feeling his tongue dipping into your entrance again before bringing it back up to your clit smearing your wetness along the bud as he continued the same cycle of licking and sucking.

Slowly, he brought one of his hands down to your core, sliding his thick fingers through your arousal before pushing them into your tight heat with a wet sound that made Miles’ cock twitch in its confines. Your mouth dropped open on a silent gasp, feeling him burying the digits to the hilt, and your greedy heat fluttered around the intrusion. When he curled them just right–pressing firmly against that spongy, rigid spot inside you–your eyes rolled back, a broken moan tearing free from your throat. You wanted to say something–to urge him to go faster–but it felt like your brain had become a puddle of matter in your skull, and there was nothing you could do to fight off the lust filled haze that was blurring your vision.

Miles’ chest was heaving at the sight, his hand still squeezing around the aching length of his cock in short bursts just to ease the pain. Every desperate sound you made coiled tighter in his gut, feeding the pressure building low in his belly until he had to close his eyes for a moment just to keep himself from cumming right there. He had heard those same moans when he touched you, tasted you, buried himself inside you–but it was never like this. Never this loud, this wrecked…This utterly lost. And it made him whimper, because he was fighting himself to hold on. He wanted to distract himself but it was nearly impossible when he was hearing those heavenly sounds escaping you, so he found himself opening his eyes draw his attention back to you.

Rhett growled against core, the low vibration rolling perfectly through your clit and travelling straight into your bloodstream. He released the swollen bud for just a second–his lips glistening from your arousal and his spit–breathing hot and ragged against your soaked flesh while his fingers kept thrusting into you in a merciless rhythm, feeling your walls pulsing around them, squeezing so hard that it was almost making it difficult for him to move.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let us hear how good you sound when you’re fallin’ apart on my tongue and fingers.” He urged, bringing his mouth back onto you while his fingers scissored wider to stretch you open. A third finger joined the others on the next thrust and the sudden fullness punched the air from your lungs–and from the shock. It was overwhelming to be so full like this from simply just his fingers, and your thighs shook around his head, digging your heels into the hard muscle of his back as the coil in your core wound tighter.

All your muscles began to twitch as you writhed on the sheets like you were attempting to get away from the pressure that was building and pulsing through your body, feeling waves of warmth exploding up your nervous system like it was going to burn you out entirely. It was as if you touched a live wire and the electricity was humming through your veins, burning your insides so much that it felt like you were going to explode. 

You could feel your wetness gushing and smearing around his hand with every thrust, the slick sounds growing louder and messier, coating his wrist and dripping down to soak the sheets beneath you. Your fingers yanked at his hair until your knuckles ached, back arching towards him as the pressure crested into an absolutely unstoppable clench.

“Rhett–Rhett, oh fuck! I’m–“

“I know, baby…I can fuckin’ feel it,” He growled, his voice muffling against your pulsing heat, never slowing the ruthless drive of his fingers or the tight, suctioning pull of his mouth. “Give it to me. Let Miles watch you soak my face like the good girl you are.” He added, nipping at your clit with his teeth before curling his fingers even more, pressing harder against your g-spot, stroking faster until you were practically delirious and crying out for him.  

Tears were streaming down your temples as your orgasm crashed over you, feeling every muscle in your body tightening up like a vice was wrapped around them. A broken moan tore from your throat as your walls clamped down hard around his fingers, pulsing in long, powerful waves while your release soaked his hand and wrist. Rhett groaned like he was the one coming undone, moving his head down slightly to lick just above his fingers so he could taste the fresh gushes that were pouring out of you–drinking you down like he was dying of thirst–while he fucked you through every wave with slow, deep strokes, working you open even as your body tried to push him out, drawing the pleasure out until your vision went dark.

When he finally felt your body relax beneath him, he slowly eased his movements, gently pulling his fingers out of you to press soft, open-mouthed kisses to your soaked core, your puffy clit, and the slick skin of your inner thighs, lapping up the release that coated you–easing your body back down to earth while your chest heaved and your legs twitched against him. 

He lifted his head at last, showing off the way his mouth, chin, cheeks, and nose were shining with your release, and a slow, satisfied grin curved his lips while he took in your wrecked expression–eyes glassy, lashes wet and clumped, with your lips parting on shallow breaths.

“Mmm, look at those tears…You’re already so drunk on me,” He murmured, the words low and vibrating as he pressed one more lingering kiss to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his lips brushing the fresh marks his stubble had left behind. He pulled back slowly, sliding off the mattress to stand at the edge of the bed, his broad frame casting a long shadow over your spent body. “I think we ought to show this to Miles.” He added, as his large hands found your hips and guided you to turn over onto your belly, your cheek pressing into the cool linens, breathing in the lavender scent of the fabric softener that clung to them.

Your eyes trailed over to Miles, seeing the helpless and wrecked expression painted on his blotchy red face. There was a bead of sweat slipping down his temple, and by the way he was holding his clothed cock, it looked like he was on the brink of cumming. You could see the subtle twitch in his nose, the way he was shivering in anticipation, and when he was able to see the tears that were soaking in your cheeks, and the overwhelming pleasure that sheened your eyes, he almost came right then and there. 

“God…” He breathed, squeezing himself again and letting out a small whimper, “You look so pretty.” He whispered, and you couldn’t help but smile at the gentleness of the compliment. You were still so high from your orgasm that you still weren’t able to form words, but the way your body was wordlessly responding to him made the sight all the more better as you wordlessly communicated your gratitude to him. 

Rhett reached for one of the pillows at the head of the bed, and slid his free hand down to your hip, slipping it between you and the mattress to urge you to draw your body up slightly. 

When you made space for him–holding yourself up on your shaking legs–he shoved the pillow beneath you, adjusting your position so your ass was propped up for him. The cool fabric was a blessed contrast against your overheated skin, and you let out a sigh of relief, feeling his palm smoothing down the outside of your thigh before hooking behind your left knee, and bending the leg outward to open you up to him again. His eyes traced over your glistening, puffy core, still fluttering and slick from your orgasm, and he couldn’t help but smile at the evidence of how thorough he had worked you up to this state.

You could hear the buckle of his belt being undone, listening to the leather whispering through the loops of his jeans before it hit the floor with a heavy thud. Miles’ attention drew back to Rhett, seeing the way his chest had become a hued pink from his exertion, his eyes trailing the beads of sweat that dripped all the way down from his neck to his torso, catching on the lines of his abs. He popped the dark gold button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down with a slow, rasping sound that echoed in the room, then shoved both the denim and his boxers down in one quick motion.

His cock was larger than his, in girth and length–framed by a thatch of hair on his pelvis–and the head was a red, almost rosy colour, glistening with a steady stream of precum that was dripping from the slit and sliding down the veined shaft. He was so worked up, and turned on from going down on you that it looked like he was dying to be buried inside your pussy, and Miles could see the pure, unfiltered desire that was blazing through Rhett’s darkened eyes. He wrapped his hand around himself, giving his cock a few strong strokes, before climbing on top of you again. He settled his broad, sweat-damped chest against your back, as your heat mixed with his and enveloped the both of you completely. 

You felt the blunt head of his cock drag through your soaked folds, gathering the slick mix of your release and his spit over the tip, sliding down to circle the ridged crown of it along your overstimulated clit before gliding back up to nudge at your entrance. The teasing pressure pulled a needy little whine from your throat, and your hips pushed back against him, chasing the thick stretch you craved, and he settled a hand against your torso in an attempt to hold you still.

“Fuck…Rh-Rhett, that feels so good,” You moaned, grinding harder on him so the head caught at your entrance again. Rhett’s breath ghosted hot against the back of your neck, his lips brushing your ear as he held himself there–waiting patiently and letting the anticipation build until you were trembling with it.

“Yeah? You want it that bad, baby? Want me to fill you up while Miles watches?” He asked, rocking his hips forward just enough for the thick head of his cock to breach you, stretching your entrance around him with a slow, delicious burn that seemed to paralyze you. When you didn’t answer immediately, lost to the sensation, he stopped completely–holding still inside you as you whined and clenched around the small intrusion.

“Answer me, Y/N…” He instructed, squeezing just above your hip, while you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Yes! Fuck, I want it so badly Rhett…Please…Please give it to me,” You blubbered, the words tumbling out in a desperate and broken tangle. 

Only then did he move again, feeding his cock into you in a slow push, feeling your walls parting to wrap around every inch he gave. The both of you let out a shared, guttural moan of pure relief, sinking deeper as he let himself go to press his hand onto the mattress just beside your heat to steady himself, until he was buried to the hilt inside you. The heavy weight of his balls pressed snug against your clit, and the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your soaked skin as he settled himself on top of you, pressing your body into the mattress. His chest rose and fell against your back in heavy drags, and you could feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat echoing through your spine while he held still for a long moment, letting you adjust to the devastating fullness of him. He pressed a slow kiss to the curve of your should, the scrape of his stubble dragging across your damp skin as he drew in a shaky breath that fanned hot against your neck.

“God damn it, sweetheart,” He groaned against your ear, his tongue tracing a wet line along the top of your collarbone, tasting the salt of your skin and the faint sheen of sweat that had gathered there, “You’re so tight and wet for me…I might not even last for more than five minutes.” The confession came out in a whisper, low and strained, as he rolled his hips in a shallow grind that dragged the thick head of his cock against the deepest part of you, nudging the soft give of your cervix. The pressure punched a broken whine from your throat, your walls fluttering helplessly around the heavy stretch of him. 

“I…I need you to move,” You pleaded, voice wrecked as you shifted beneath his weight, pushing back against him. Your hand found his where it gripped the mattress beside your head, threading your fingers through the spaces between his calloused ones, holding on tight. Rhett answered by pressing a kiss to the side of your neck this time, his lips lingering over the wet patch his tongue left, breathing you in as if he could pull the sound of your need into his lungs.

“Alright, baby,” He replied, the words rough and gravelly. He drew his hips back slowly, the thick length of him dragging along every sensitive inch of your walls until only the thick crown of him remained inside you. Then he thrust forward again, driving you deeper into the mattress with the force of his hips meeting your ass. 

It took him a few moments to settle into a rhythm, but once he found it there was no mercy left in him to give. Each thrust was deep and powerful, and the slap of his hips meeting your skin echoed in the quiet room. His balls swung forward with every rut, smacking wetly against your swollen clit, sending sparks throughout your entirety. You clenched hard around him on every withdrawal, greedy for the stretch to return with each motion, turning your body into a moaning, trembling mess beneath him.

Sweat gathered between your pressed bodies, slick and pebbling, sliding in slow rivulets down your sides and soaking into the linens beneath you in dark, irregular patched. You pushed back into every thrust with a hunger that mirrored Rhett, chasing him, desperate to melt into the solid heat of his flesh, not wanting an inch of space to separate the two of you. 

Everything had narrowed to nothing but the relentless drag and push of his cock inside you, how every ridge and vein ran along the spots that made your vision blur at the edges–taking your breath away. You were so lost in the feeling of him that you hadn’t even lifted your head to look at Miles–yet you could feel the weight of his stare like a physical touch, burning across your skin, absorbing every gasp and shudder you let out.

“Mmm, I’m so proud of you hun,” Rhett murmured against your shoulder, his voice laced with satisfaction as he kept his punishing pace, “You’re takin’ my cock so well…Just like the good girl you are.” The praise sank straight into your core, making you clench tighter around him, as a fresh rush of slick eased the brutal slide of his thrusts. Your head spun, pleasure coiling hotter and tighter with every wet slap of skin on skin, and every hot exhale that ghosted over your neck.

His hand left your hip, sliding up your body until his palm wrapped around the front of your throat–not squeezing it to cut your air off, but holding it steady in his grip, taking in the rapid pulse that greeted the tips of his fingers. He tilted your head up, forcing your gaze toward the chair where Miles sat. The other man’s eyes were wide and glassy, lips parted, as he worked his hand over the drenched front of his pyjamas, watching every single thrust rock through you.

“Go ahead…Tell Miles how good my cock feels,” Rhett instructed, thrusting harder on the next stroke, pulling a sharp gasp from your lungs. Your free hand reached back blindly, sliding your fingers into the damp strands at the side his head, tugging gently, anchoring yourself as the pleasure threatened to drown you.

“Fuck…Miles, his cock feels so good…Filling me up so…So fucking well.” You whimpered, leaning down into the hold Rhett’s hand had around your throat. He grunted low against your neck, the sound shaking through your flesh as he angled his hips just enough to drive in impossibly deeper. He gave the sensitive skin beneath your ear a gentle nip, teeth grazing just hard enough to make you shudder.

“Did you hear that Miles?” He rasped, looking up at his wrecked little face, the way he was squirming in his seat, bucking his hips up into his hand, “You hear how good I make her feel just by fuckin’ her like this? How she likes it rough?” He asked, thrusting harder to pull another moan from you and Miles nodded, trying to mentally note what Rhett was saying even though he was absolutely distracted by how lost you were in the feeling of being fucked so thoroughly. 

Rhett turned his hand over beneath yours, holding it tightly as he leaned down to kiss the side of your neck, sucking the soft skin into his mouth, putting a new mark on your flesh. You clenched around him, feeling his thrusts getting more chaotic, the sound of skin slapping skin growing louder with each shift.

His hand eventually slipped from your throat and your head dropped heavily to the mattress, your cheek pressing into the damp linens because all the strength you needed to hold it up had simply vanished. You felt his calloused fingers trace down the curve of your side, mapping your waist with featherlight lines and the flare of your hip with circles before before slipping beneath you, his hand burying itself between your hips and the pillow. 

“Gonna make you cum again for me…Wanna leave you so wrecked that you’ll be fuckin’ shakin’ all night…You want that, baby?” He teased, his hot breath sticking to your skin and cooling the wet spot he left on your neck. Before you could even attempt to respond his fingers found your clit–soaked with your arousal that had been dripping from your core from each thrust he had given you–circling the swollen bud with just enough pressure to have you writhing beneath him, squeezing his hand tight enough to feel the shift of bone and tendon against your palm.

“Rhett…Oh fuck!” You whined, feeling the angle of his hips changing behind you as he resorted to grinding into you in the rhythm of his fingers, hitting all the right spots while keeping the hot skin of his chest pressed to your back, and you pulled on his hair again. You could feel your muscles tightening, your body undulating into him craving more–needing more–and all he did in response was kiss your neck and scrape his stubble along your shoulder, keeping his pace through the shudders that were wracking his insides. His fingers circled faster on your clit, feeling your walls pulsing around him, squeezing him with such pressure that told him you were on the brink of release. You felt tears building in your eyes again at the overwhelming pleasure coiling and ricocheting through your body, and your moans and whimpers became louder, like you were bracing yourself.

“I’m…Oh fuck, I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum again!” You cried, squeezing his hand tightly as he nodded, nipping at your shoulder.

“I’m right behind you.” He whispered, feeling you seize up beneath him, while another orgasm washed over you, flooding your senses and short-circuiting your brain so all you could do was say his name and whine. It was like all the words were sucked out of your mouth, and all you became was a bumbling mess beneath him–shaking and tightening around him, your release gushing out of you and dripping down until another wet puddle was forming beneath you–soaking the edge of the pillow and the sheets beneath you. Rhett grunted, his chest vibrating against your back at the sensations that overtook him, and gave you a few more thrusts before tensing up and flooding you with rope after rope of his hot cum. You could feel his cock twitching against your pulsing walls, as he let out a heavy breath against your ear.

“God, you feel so good squeezin’ my cock like this…You want every last drop, huh?” He teased, fucking his cum into you, pushing it so deep that it pooled out of you and dripped down to join the puddle of your release on the sheets.

“Wa-Want it all…” You moaned, hearing him let out a little huff of a laugh, kissing your shoulder.

“I know you do…You’re always cum hungry.” He commented, as you felt his lips curving up on your skin, pressing another kiss to your overheated flesh. He thrusted one final time, before all the tension in his muscles dissipated and he relaxed on you, putting his full weight into your back, covering you like a human blanket. As your hand slipped out of his hair he turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, nuzzling against the sweat slicked skin, “But you take it so well that I can’t resist givin’ you everythin’ you need.” He added on a breath, easing the pressure of his fingers on your clit and sliding his hand out from beneath your body, smearing the glossy evidence of your release across the curve of your hip in a slow drag. The sudden absence of that relentless touch left you shaking in the cool evening air, overstimulated and twitching, while another lazy aftershock rippled through your core, forcing you to squeeze around Rhett’s softening cock, keeping him buried deep inside your depths as you recovered. 

Your lashes fluttered open–heavy and damp from your tears–and you lifted your gaze toward Miles. He looked on the verge of breaking apart–eyes rimmed red and glassy, his cheeks were flushed a mottled crimson despite the chill in the room and it spread down the column of his throat disappearing beneath the collar of his sweat splattered shirt, seeing the fabric clinging to his heaving chest. The material of his pyjama pants were absolutely ruined by this point–soaked through with a puddle of precum that glistened in the dimmed lighting of the room, like he had been leaking it for what felt like hours. Sweat beaded along his hairline, slipping down his temple in thin streaks until it reached the edge of his jaw where it ceased to move, and you could see his hands trembling, shaking like leaves, as if he didn’t know what to do with them–like he was one breath away from completely shattering.

You couldn’t stand seeing him like this any longer, and with what little strength remained in your arms, you reached out and curled your fingers in a weak beckoning motion.

“Come here,” You whispered, your voice hoarse and wrecked from the dryness that had settled in your throat. Almost immediately, Miles toppled out of his chair, dropping to his knees on the floorboards with a soft thud, before crawling the short distance to the edge of the mattress like a man starved. When he reached you he stopped, his hands hovering just above the sheets as if he was afraid to touch something that had been so beautifully ruined–like he was going to somehow snap you out of the euphoric state you were under. 

His shimmering gaze roamed over your face, taking in the the glassy, orgasm-hazed gleam in your eyes, the way your cheek kept dropping back to rest against the cool linens every few seconds to seek the contrasting relief of them, and the light coating of sweat that had formed on your skin that caused it to have this dewy glow. You looked ethereal to him, absolutely breathtaking in your own way, and he couldn’t help but feel his heart clench and squeeze painfully at the beautiful sight.

“Are…Are you okay?” He asked, concern lacing his voice, cracking the words in two fragments, as his hot trembling hand rose to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently beneath your eye where the tears had dried slightly in salty tracks. The touch was so soft, almost like you were being caressed by a feather, and it was the complete opposite of the way Rhett’s hands felt on you–creating the perfect balance. You managed a small smile, nuzzling into his palm.

“I’m okay,” You murmured, “I just didn’t want you to sit over there anymore…You seemed lonely.” The words drew a quiet huff of laughter from both men–Rhett’s low and warm against your back and vibrating through your skin, while Miles’ was soft and relieved, like you had eased all the worries that were plaguing his mind. You could feel Rhett’s stubble scrape lightly over your overheated flesh as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering like he couldn’t hold himself back from tasting the saltiness of your sweat. 

“Always the considerate partner, Y/N…” Rhett commented fondly, nipping at your shoulder blade teasingly, making you flinch beneath him as a small giggle escaped your mouth. Miles leaned in slowly, brushing his lips over your damp cheek, then going to the other, allowing the soft kisses to sear straight into your bones. You shifted closer to him, craving his affections, tilting your head just enough to catch his mouth with yours. 

The kiss was slow and sweet, mixing with Miles’ desperateness quickly–his tongue sliding against yours with a grateful messiness that made him whimper into your throat. You tasted the salt of his sweat on his lips, and the sweet coppery flavour of his blood from where it had settled in his mouth when he had presumably gnawed at his cheek while he was watching you and Rhett. It was an intoxicating elixir that made you want so much more from him, but you knew you couldn’t get lost in this so quickly.

When you pulled back, you looked up at him through your lashes, nudging your nose against his and swallowing his shallow breaths. 

“You should get on the bed so we can take care of you…” You suggested, glancing down at his tented pyjama pants before looking back to his blown out pupils that ate away the shimmering blue of his irises. He let out a needy little hum, but shook his head.

“I want to clean you off though,” He confessed, as if he was bringing things to some sort of standoff while he glanced up at Rhett, seeking permission or guidance–or both–to find a solution that would please all of you.

“We can do both at once,” Rhett murmured, pressing one last kiss to the side of your neck before he shifted his weight on your body, “Let me just get off you first…” He braced his hands on either side of your ribs and eased back slowly, as the thick drag of his softening cock pulled a low, involuntary moan from you, feeling your walls fluttering around him like they were reluctant to let him go. When he finally slipped free, a thick strand of his cum followed, dripping in a heated flood down your folds and onto the soaked sheets. You clenched instinctively, trying to keep as much of it inside you as you could, but another slow trickle escaped anyway, glistening under the low light while it smeared on the insides of your thighs. 

The moment Rhett’s body heat withdrew from your sweaty skin, the cool evening breeze slipped into the room and slid over every inch of overheated skin. It traced the damp valley of your spine, raising tight goosebumps along the backs of your thighs, and licking across the slick mess that was leaking between your legs. A soft sigh of relief escaped from your parted lips, feeling the fever within your body easing just enough for you to feel the subtle tremble in your muscles and the heavy, satisfied ache deep within your core.

Rhett’s large, calloused hands settled on your hips, his broad palms spreading the warmth in them as they rubbed over the mottled bruises and fingerprints that your skin bared even more now. You could feel him tracing the marks one by one, dragging as lightly as possible to not cause you pain, before he gave each side a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s get you up on your knees so Miles can lay down on the bed, then you can climb on top of him and face me instead of the headboard,” He instructed, glancing over to where Miles was “And before you get on here, take off your clothes before settlin’ down.” The both of you nodded eagerly at his detailed plan, but neither of you jumped into action immediately.

It took a few moments for your trembling limbs to cooperate, the aftershocks still flickering through your thighs and belly causing a sort of paralysis in your movements, but when Rhett slipped his arm beneath your torso it helped to steady you as you pushed up onto your knees. He guided you back until your weight settled onto your calves, your back arching slightly as you leaned into the solid wall of his chest, feeling the residual heat of his skin, the faint brush of his softening cock against the curve of your ass, and the steady thud of his heartbeat against your shoulder. 

And together you watched Miles rise from his crouched position.

He moved with hurried, clumsy urgency, fingers shaking as he shoved his pyjama pants and boxers down his lean thighs in one frantic tug, his cock springing free from it’s confines at once. It was flushed a deep, needy red at the tip, and the shaft was coated in a sheen of precum that pooled over the tight skin, dripping onto the floor in small translucent droplets. Compared to Rhett, Miles’ size was a little more average, but it was one of the prettiest cocks you had ever seen. It suited him perfectly, not too big and not too small, with a trimmed thatch of light brown hair that settled right above it–almost to the point of it not existing at all. 

At the sight, Rhett’s arm tightened around your torso, providing an instinctive hold that kept both of you from reaching for him too soon–you wanted to relish in this, to take him in slowly rather than rush him, so you melted back into his embrace as Miles reached for the hem of his damp shirt. 

The fabric clung stubbornly to his sticky skin, peeling away with each tug until he yanked it over his head and tossed it aside, letting it join the pants on the ground. When his torso came into view you couldn’t help but trace over every detail with the fervour of a hungry animal, taking in the lean paleness of skin that seemed to have never seen the sun, seeing the sharp lines of his collarbones peeking out beneath his skin, as his ribs expanded and fell with his quick, shallow breaths. Scars were scattered across his chest and abdomen in messy pink lines, most of them were thin and faded–almost like they were barely there–but one thick, raised ridge was cut deeper right above his stomach from where he had been stabbed the night the El Royale burned. He had been lucky that it had missed most of his vital organs, though the recovery process was still ongoing–most days he barely even noticed it, but when he looked for too long oftentimes he found himself remembering that night like it was yesterday.

You had traced the puckered flesh countless times with your fingertips and lips, whispering praises into it until he believed that he was worthy of still being here, that he survived that traumatic night for a reason, and whenever you did that it seemed to have mended something within him for that temporary blip of time, but it never truly quieted the memories–though he was appreciative of your attempts. 

Your eyes continued to roam over him, looking at the freckles that were splattered all over him–cinnamon specks that laid across his shoulders, down the planes of his stomach, along his tights–they were far lighter and more delicate than the sun-deepened ones that marked Rhett’s tanned body, but you showed the exact same affections to them.

Miles’ lashes fluttered under the weight of both your stares, the blush on his cheeks and neck deepening even further as he looked down at the ground. You could tell his shyness was winning over the confidence he thought he had as he brought his hands forward to cover his leaking cock, shifting awkward from foot to foot before finally climbing onto the bed in hopes of relief from the way the two of you were observing him. 

He dragged the sweat-dampened pillow you had been propped on toward the head of the bed, fluffing it once with a few quick snaps of his wrists before settling it into place, lowering himself onto it with a soft exhale as his lean frame sank deep into the mattress and linens, feeling it mold to his body. The motion forced a small gust of trapped air from the fabric, releasing the thick and unmistakably intimate scent of the combined musk of your release and Rhett’s cum. It flooded his lungs in one overwhelming wave, the sweet tang of you layered over the deeper, earthy bitterness of Rhett that carried the undercurrent of his cigarette, and Miles’ eyes couldn’t help but flutter half-closed as the scent drowned him.

He could feel the lustful heat that burned through his veins, making his cock twitch against the taut plane of his lower belly, smearing a fresh streak of hot precum across the flushed skin there, the anticipation tightening in his chest until every breath felt like it burned his lungs with pure need. 

Rhett’s arm slowly loosened from around your waist, his broad hand sliding down the soft curve of your stomach in one unhurried glide, taking in the way your muscles clenched and flinched beneath his touch as he settled it over your navel.

“Go ahead and get on him,” He urged, letting the words warm against the shell of your ear, before shifting back just enough to allow you to move without him, giving your ass a small smack of encouragement.

You braced your palms on the softness of the mattress and crawled forward–feeling the liquid heat between your legs beginning to drip and trail down your thighs in thick rivulets–turning around so you faced Miles’ feet, and bringing your leg over so you could straddle his hips and hover just above the rigid length of his cock. You kept yourself suspended there, your thighs trembling with the effort not to sink down, refusing to grind against him even though the ache between your legs screamed for friction and you knew he needed the same as well. But from the way Rhett was looking, he seemed like he had a plan and you were going to respect it as much as possible. 

Miles’ gaze dragged down the length of your spine, drinking in the plump, flushed swell of your ass and the elegant arch of your back where thin, glistening trails of sweat slid down the valley of it. The sight made his throat work on a silent swallow, and he had to dig his nails into the sheets to stop himself from leaning up and dragging his tongue along every salty line just so he could get a taste of you. When he calmed himself down his hands rose to settle firmly on your hips, helping as you began the slow ascent up his body. 

With every shift of your thighs, thick rivulets droplets of Rhett’s cum and your release dripped freely onto him in hot tracks that painted his lower belly, his sternum, the flat planes of his chest and the scars along there and he couldn’t help but shiver as the viscous fluid slid over his freckled flesh, marking him and claiming him in the most intimate way possible. 

Right before you could fully settle over his waiting mouth, Miles dragged two trembling fingers through one of the small puddles you had left on his sternum, gathering the creamy mix onto the pads of them and bringing the digits straight to his lips.

He sucked them into his mouth, licking them clean with a broken moan that vibrated deep through his chest and straight up your legs, bursting over your nervous system. The sound rolled over your skin like rolling thunder, low and completely desperate, as he savoured every trace of the thick creaminess he had gathered–your sweetness tangling with the musky bitterness of Rhett. He made sure not a single drop went to waste, his tongue curling around each finger until they gleamed with his drool under the low evening light, pulling them free with a soft, wet pop that echoed between your thighs. His hand returned to your hip immediately, digging his fingers into the plushness with newfound urgency, pulling you closer as if the taste he had gotten had only peaked the hunger clawing inside him.

His breath ghosted hot against the sensitive, swollen skin of your fold, fanning over the slick mess leaking steadily from your entrance. A glistening trail of Rhett’s cum slipped free with a small pulse, inching downward, and before it could fall Miles brought you down onto his face with a firm tug of his hands. His mouth opened wide beneath you, catching the warmth on his tongue instantly, swiping through to lick along the glossiness. You let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden eagerness of him, your body tensing as you shifted, trying not to crush his nose or settle too much of your weight onto him out of fear of smothering. 

A low grunt escaped his throat in response, a quiet protest, and his grip on your hips tightened, like he didn’t want you to move at all, like this was where he wanted to be regardless of the possibilities. He held you in place, his damp palms sticking to your skin while he guided you until you were pressed flush to his mouth with no escape. His tongue glided through your folds in long, thorough strokes, gathering every drop of what Rhett had left inside you, sucking gently at your entrance before burrowing his face deeper into you and opening his mouth wider to cover your pussy completely.

Your hands settled on his thighs–balancing yourself before you could fall forward in pure ecstasy–fingers digging into the lean muscle there as your head tilted back and a small, broken moan slipped from your throat. The way he worked you was meticulous and you could feel the hunger blaring through his veins just from the desperate movements–his tongue pressing deep, then flattening wide to ease the lingering soreness pulsing at your entrance while chasing the high he craved. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth filled the room, the soft slurps and needy swallows echoing so loudly that it made heat flood your cheeks while your stomach tightened and a fresh spark of pleasure ignited low in your abdomen.

Rhett let out a sigh at the sight, the sound a rough approval as he knelt onto the mattress to join the both of you, parting his muscular thighs to mirror your position while he adjusted himself to straddle Miles’ shins–inadvertently restraining him. He could feel his legs shift beneath him as he settled his weight onto the bones, and his gaze burned across the scene with pure enamour.

“You like when he cleans you off with his mouth, Y/N?” He asked, glancing down at the way your thighs were shaking, how your breasts were heaving with each shallow breath you took, and how a sheen of sweat was beginning to glaze over the flesh of your chest. 

“God, yes…He always does such a good job,” You praised, the words falling from your lips thinly. Miles moaned loudly beneath you at the compliment as his hands squeezed your hips harder, before his arms slid around your torso to practically hug your pussy against him. His tongue worked faster, sucking your fold between his lips with a tiny, filthy slurp that made your whole body tremble. Rhett smirked at your reply, licking his dry lips as he reached for you, his calloused hand caressing your cheek, feeling you lean into the touch.

“Well why don’t we reward him for his generous deeds then, hmm?” He suggested, tilting your head down so your eyes could meet his, as he motioned towards Miles’ lap. You followed his gaze to his twitching cock, seeing the pool of precum that was slipping along his skin, the veins pulsing like it was silently begging to be touched–or to be seated inside you. A mischievous little smile curved your lips, and Rhett gave you a wink, motioning for you to do as you pleased–content with taking a backseat for the moment, and watching like Miles had done earlier. 

You trailed your fingers slowly up the length of Miles’ thigh, feeling the muscle jump and clench beneath your touch. His skin was fever-hot and damp with sweat under your palm, and when you finally wrapped your hand around the base of his aching cock he let out a startled gasp against your core.

The sound spurred you on, stroking him all the way up to the tip in one firm glide, your palm growing slick with the steady flood of his warm precum that gathered along your flesh. His tongue moved faster between your folds in response, his hips bucking up into your grip as you adjusted your position, leaning forward until your hot breath ghosted over his length. 

You could feel him shaking beneath you, every lean line of his body pulling taut, and you pursed your lips, blowing a cool stream of air over the soaked, swollen head, watching it twitch hard against your fingers as another thick bead of precum welled up at the slit and dripped down onto your knuckles. A small, satisfied smile appeared on your face, and finally your wrapped your mouth around him, taking him in inch by inch, until the head nudged the back of your throat and you were full of him. The saltiness burst across your tongue instantly, rich and heady, and you felt his cock pulse inside the wet heat as you flattened your tongue along the top, swallow around him with a low, throaty hum that made his thighs jerk beneath you. 

Miles whimpered against you, his noises growing louder and more desperate as you began to move–pulling off until only the sensitive tip remained between your lips before sucking and bringing him in again. His arms tightened around your torso, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your sides as he plunged his tongue into your entrance, fucking you slowly with the soft, insistent muscle. You couldn’t help but grind harder on his face, moaning around his cock, as the two of you fell into a perfect rhythm that matched the uncontrollable bucking of his hips. You sucked and swirled your tongue around the head before bringing yourself down when he thrusted up into you, your hand stroking along his shaft and squeezing, placing extra pressure every time you pulled back to the tip.

Drool pooled from the corner of your mouth, soaking him completely and dripping down to wet the trimmed hair at his base as you let him hit the back of your throat with every bob of your head. You gagged softly, producing even more saliva that ran in glossy streaks down his length and over your fingers–the mess only making everything slicker and hotter.

Rhett felt his own cock twitch at the sight, already stirring back to full hardness despite the lingering sensitivity that still plagued his nerves. He wrapped his hand around himself, stroking slowly as he watched you work Miles with such eagerness. You seemed so lost in pleasing him that you barely noticed how hard you were grinding against his mouth, but Miles didn’t seem to mind–he simply held you tighter, and locked around you, letting you use his face while his tongue continued to lick along you.

Rhett could feel Miles’ legs shifting restlessly beneath his thighs, the younger man’s body growing tighter, wound so close to the edge that his breaths were quickening and muffling in gasps against your core. He reached out, grabbing your hair at the back of your head before gently guiding your mouth off Miles’ cock completely. Thick strings of your saliva stretch and snapped between your swollen lips and the glistening, angry-red tip as you pulled away. You looked up at Rhett with watery, lust-glazed eyes, confusing flickering across your heated face, before your gaze dropped to his renewed erection, your brows lifting in silent question.

The two of you could hear Miles’ soft, broken cries muffling against you–a quiet, needy protest at the sudden loss of your warmth. He shook beneath you, hips jerking helplessly upward, hoping that you would catch on that he was close to finishing as he trembled with frustration. You could feel the desperation radiating off him, the way his fingers flexed harder into your flesh, silently begging you to continue because he was right there, just on the brink of collapse.

Rhett shifted higher up his legs, guiding his cock closer to Miles’ until he rested the heavy, heated length of him against his, the two shafts pressing flush together. He opened his hand wider, wrapping it around both of them in one firm grip, the veins in his forearm standing out from the pressure he was placing on them. You mirrored him–your smaller hand joining his, but being unable to close around the combined girth. Rhett gave a low hum of approval as you leaned in and let a thick glob of drool fall from your mouth, watching it land hot on both of the flushed tips while it ran down their joined lengths. You used your free hand to smear the wetness thoroughly over the sensitive heads, coating them until they gleamed, causing your palm to become sticky from their mingled precum.

Rhett shifted his hips, grinding the thick, heated length of his cock along the underside of Miles’, the slick, velvety friction pulling a deep groan from the man buried between your thighs, the vibration rolling straight through your core and making your walls flutter against his tongue as he continued to devour you.

He repeated the motion again and again, fucking up into your joined hands and against Miles’ cock in slow grinds. The wet slide of skin on skin filled the room, mingling with the filthy sounds of Miles’ mouth working relentless at your clit and entrance. You stroked in perfect time with Rhett, squeezing on every upward thrust, feeling both cock throbbing and pulsing hotly in your grip. The combined heat and pressure made Miles cry out and moan into your pussy, the sounds growing more desperate with every pass. 

You leaned down, dragging your tongue slowly along the glistening tips, licking up the steady stream of precum that dripped from their slits. You sucked first on Miles’, then on Rhett’s, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive crowns, and flushed skin where they pressed together, letting the taste of both of them mix on your tongue in salty, bitter, and musky stripes.

“Mmm, that feels nice, baby,” Rhett moaned, as he continued thrusting his hips upward. The head of his cock bumped against Miles’ and occasionally breached your lips, slick and heavy as your saliva coated him. You flicked your tongue teasingly over the underside before spitting again, adding another thick glob of drool to the already messy glide to ease their movements. 

You pushed yourself back up, locking your eyes with Rhett’s as he reached for your breast with his free hand, giving the soft weight a firm squeeze before twisting your nipple between his calloused fingers. The sting of pleasure made you gasp, as your back arched into his touch, pushing down harder onto Miles’ mouth.

Rhett picked up the pace of his hips, stroking and grinding with fervour against Miles, his breath hitching as he continued to massage your breast, keeping his focus on the joined cocks between him, and the sweet sounds of your gasps escaping you. He needed to watch the two of you come undone, and he knew he needed to aid in getting you there. His hand left your breast, sliding down your sweat-slick stomach and over your mound until he reached your swollen clit–feeling Miles’ hot drool that coated it–rubbing the bundle of nerves with two thick fingers. You let out a cry, your hand tightening around the aching lengths that were twitching in your palm, and Miles couldn’t help but grunt, his nails scraping against your torso, as you rolled your hips, smearing your pussy along his face while chasing the dual sensation of his tongue and Rhett’s fingers. 

You leaned into Rhett, pressing your mouth to his in a messy, needy kiss, swallowing his shaky breaths as your core tightened and pulsed against Miles’ tongue. The two of you moaned into each other as Rhett’s rhythm grew more urgent, his body growing hot and tense, his jaw clenching. Miles was right there with him–his legs tensing and shifting restlessly like he was trying to get away from the sensation of his cock grinding over and over again against his, as his cries grew louder and more broken.

Rhett angled his hips, thrusting faster and stroking harder, and with a strangled groan Miles came first. Thick ropes of his cum splattered across his lower belly and over your joined hands, hot and plentiful, and Rhett followed close behind, grunting deeply into your mouth as he ground against Miles one more time before he spilled across the slicked mess. Their releases mingled in pearly white puddles that painted Miles’ freckled skin and dripped down into the trimmed hair at his base, soaking him completely. 

Even through his orgasm, Rhett didn’t stop rubbing your clit, determined to drag you over the edge with the both of them. You leaned your forehead against his, your mouth dropping open on a broken gasp as you ground down hard on Miles’ tongue. The overwhelming pleasure crested suddenly as your release crashed through you in powerful waves despite it being your third orgasm of the night, soaking Miles’ face as your thighs shook around his head. The three of you came together in a raw, beautiful tableau of pure eroticism: gasps, moans, cries, and groans blending and bleeding into one perfect harmony that filled the bedroom.

It took a few moments for any of you to regain focus, like a haze of dizziness had over taken the three of you, but when your eyes fluttered open you found Rhett looking utterly wreck, his pupils blown wide with a permanent pleasure that couldn’t be wiped away even if you tried. You glanced down at the beautiful mess they had made across the flat planes of Miles’ stomach–the thick pools of opaque white cum sliding slowly over his skin with each breath he took, dripping down and smearing along his flesh.

You let out a shaky sigh, grinding down one more time against Miles’ face before carefully lifting your overstimulated core off his mouth. You needed a moment of relief, knowing that if you let him continue you’d be in a time loop of orgasms for the rest of the night. Miles drew in hard, gasping breaths beneath you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you shifted down him, leaning up just enough to press soft kisses to the curves of your ass cheeks, nipping gently at the plump flesh before you were out of reach. 

“That was…Heavenly,” He whispered, his voice cracking with awe. You smiled at the compliment, and leaned forward to give Rhett another deep kiss, pouring every bit of appreciation you felt for him into it–for his mind, for his ideas, and for the way he took care of the both of you so completely. When you pulled back he kissed the tip of your nose, and bumped his forehead gently against yours.

“I’ll get you two some water and wash cloths…You lay back with Miles and wait.” He murmured. You gave him a small nod, watching as he slid off the mattress and walked out of the room in all his naked glory, leaving the door open behind him.

You eased yourself off Miles’ body carefully, your thighs still trembling from the aftershocks that ripples through your belly and core. Every muscles felt loose and liquid, clenching around nothing as you shifted sideways and settled onto the mattress beside him. The cool evening air gusted through the thin curtains, kissing your overheated skin and raising goosebumps along your arms and stomach where sweat still clung in thin trails, hearing the sink turning on from the kitchen.

Miles’ face was a wreck of pure satisfaction–lips swollen and shiny, his cheeks flushed deep with mottled red bursts, and his entire lower face was coated in the glossy evidence of your release. The expression painted across his features was utterly blissed-out, and that dumb and familiar, dazed little smile curved his lips like he had just been granted absolution. His sapphire eyes, found yours in the low light, soft with wonder and something deeper, more grateful.

You reached up, brushing your fingertips along the line of his jaw before cupping his cheek, feeling the heat radiating from his skin and the faint tremor still running through him. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue–sweet and musky, mingled with the faint salt of his own sweat. He hummed softly into it, the sound vibrating against your lips, but he didn’t deepen it, content to let the moment linger in quiet intimacy.

“Did you like all of that?” You asked quietly, your voice dry and hoarse from all the moaning you had been doing, needing to check in on him to make sure he was okay. Miles nodded eagerly, the short strands of his hair falling out of place with the movements.

“Of course I did…It was fantastic.” He reassured you, the words breathless and sincere as he quickly pecked your lips again. His bright blue eyes ran over your face, tracing the dewy sheen on your skin, the way your lashes were clumped and dried together from your earlier tears, and the soft haze of pleasure that hadn’t quite left your expression. “Did you enjoy it?” He shot back, his eyebrows lifting with genuine concern. You smirked, the expression lazy and satiated.

“Was my orgasm not enough to convince you that I did?” You retorted, the teasing edge softened by the affection in your tone. It earned a quiet huff of laughter from him, the sound warm and relieved as it brushed across your cheek.

“Just wanted to be sure,” He said simply, leaning into the press of your thumb as it stroked gently beneath his eye. He shifted closer but kept his body angled just enough to avoid smearing the cum along his stomach across the sheets, already thinking ahead to the laundry and the double wash he would have to do to get the stains out.

The heavy thud of Rhett’s bare feet sounded from the hallway, growing closer until he stepped back through the doorway. He carried two glasses of water in his hands, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides, along with a small stack of damp washcloths that were tucked in the crook of his arm. Water dripped in streams down his forearm and onto the floorboard, but he paid it no mind, letting his gaze soften the moment it landed on the two of you cuddled up together on the bed, the pride in his expression unmistakable.

“Alright you two, let’s get y’all cleaned up before we make an even bigger mess.” He said, as he set the glasses down on the nightstand with a quiet clink, before taking one of the warm damp cloths in his hand.

He started with Miles, wiping slow, careful strokes across his stomach, collecting the thick, mingled release that painted his freckled skin and the faint lines of his scars.  Miles’ abdomen flinched at the cool touch, but he didn’t pull away, he just let out a soft sigh as Rhett worked meticulously, not wanting to miss a spot. He was always thorough like this–never rushing, or careless with his movements. He wiped every streak and drip until Miles’ skin gleamed clean again, then he leaned down to press a slow line of kisses along the plane of his belly, his lips lingering just beside his navel.

“You did really good tonight,” He whispered against the warm skin, sucking a faint red mark into the flesh before pulling back to capture Miles’ mouth in a deep kiss, “Maybe next time I’ll sit in the chair and watch you to go at it just to see if you learned anythin’ from my lesson.” Miles hummed into the kiss, nodding.

“Are you going to grade me?” He asked, the words muffled but playful. Rhett laughed softly against his mouth.

“If you want me to.” He replied, before turning his attention to you next, grabbing a fresh cloth, “Your turn, baby, take a drink of water, then lay back and spread those legs for me.” He instructed, watching as you grabbed your glass and took a long, cooling swallow of water before returning it to the nightstand and easing back against the pillow, parting your thighs obediently. Rhett knelt between them, the mattress dipping under his weight, and brought the warm cloth to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs first, wiping away the sticky trails that had almost dried. He moved gently, placing soft kisses along the insides of your knees as he worked upward. 

When the cloth finally reached your swollen, puffy folds, he used a fresh section to swipe slowly, watching the way your body flinched at the contact against your oversensitive flesh.

“You a little sore?” He asked, as his thumb brushed soothingly over your hip to calm you.

“Just a bit sensitive,” You admitted, the words coming out breathy, “You two really did a number on me.” Rhett’s lips curved into a small satisfied smile.

“That’s always the goal, darlin’.” He stated, continuing his careful work until every trace of his cum was gone from your skin, then he leaned in to press a wet kiss directly to your mound before setting the cloth aside. He handed Miles the second glass of water, watching as the younger man sat up enough to take several grateful swallows. Rhett took a long drink himself once Miles passed it back, the ice clinking, then he set the glass down on the opposite nightstand. With a final sweep of his hand, he gathered the duvet and sheets in his grip and pulled it up over the three of you, letting the cool fabric settle on your skin like a comforting weight.

The three of you shifted and adjusted until Miles was perfectly sandwiched between you, his lean frame pressing chest-to-chest with yours while Rhett spooned him from behind. Your legs tangled together beneath the sheets–your calf hooked over Miles’ thigh, Rhett’s pushed to the middle and locked around your free one–and your arms weaved in a warm possessive embrace. Miles nuzzled into the valley between your breasts, pressing his ear directly over your heart, while Rhett put his chin atop Miles’ head, his breath warm against his hair.

“I love you guys,” You whispered into the quietness of the room, the words heavy with exhaustion and pure contentment. They hummed in unison.

“We love you too.”

-----------

Rhett had taken a temporary job with a local cattle ranch, and he had been offered a generous sum of money to travel to their second operation over in Montana and fill in during a cattle drive, because the ranch was short-handed. 

It had taken him away for nearly a month, leaving Miles to hold down the fort at home. He had his own responsibilities to tend to. His quilting business kept him busy, and he’d been selling baked goods at the farmer’s market on the weekends. There were many things to occupy his time, but even as he stayed busy, he continued to think about how much he missed his Rhett. 

Usually, on market days, Rhett would be there with Miles, selling small, intricate figurines he had whittled out of wood. The Abbott-Miller booth was a popular one. Miles’ baked goods always sold out, Rhett’s wooden figures were always in high demand. And people loved the men responsible for creating the goods. The sweet, mild-mannered young man with the mysterious scars that decorated the left side of his face. The stoic cowboy who looked at that young man as if he’d hung the stars in the sky. 

The elderly ladies that frequented the booth were the sweetest. And when Rhett suddenly stopped showing up to run the booth alongside Miles, they grew concerned. 

“Where is that handsome husband of yours?” Asked Melinda, the kind old woman who was no bigger than five foot one, who always showed up early to snag Miles’ sourdough loaves before they sold out. Cranberry orange and jalapeño cheddar were her favorite. 

“Oh, Rhett had to go out of town for work. He’ll be back soon!” Miles explained, as he handed her the individually wrapped loaves, branded with a sticker that read Rodeo Royale Baked Goods. 

“Well you tell him I missed him! He needs to hurry on home, you look lost without him, you poor dear.”

Miles couldn’t help but smile softly at her, the apples of his cheeks dusting pink. “I’ll tell him. It’s definitely not the same without him here,” came his honest reply. 

Their banter continued for a moment more, before Melinda soon moved on to another booth and the next customer stepped up to browse. Miles couldn’t hide his joy. How far he’d come, in the years since he’d first met his husband. From having spent so long keeping his attraction to men a secret, for fear of judgment from both God and man, to now living without fear, proud to show off his relationship. 

Rhett had changed his life for the better. Miles would sing that from the rooftops to anyone who would listen. 

Now that he was gone, albeit just for a few weeks, Miles felt like a limb was missing. He and Rhett worked together in all things. It was just how they operated best. Around the homestead, they usually weren’t far from one another. Rhett in the stable, feeding the horses. Miles at the adjacent chicken coop, feeding the chickens. Miles tending the garden, Rhett mending the corral fence a few feet away. 

Always in each other’s orbit, gravitating toward one another, both intentionally and unintentionally. 

Of course, Miles still functioned just fine without him. He could take care of their homestead and keep up with everything that needed done, but it still wasn’t the same without his cowboy. His company as of late had been their farm animals, and his elderly cat Matilda, who followed him around meowing up a storm, as if she knew he needed some company.

Some days, Miles would drive over to the Abbott ranch, where he would enjoy a morning cup of coffee, along with a slice of homemade bread and fresh jam, on the porch with Cecilia. He had developed a sweet bond with his mother-in-law, something he’d never had with his own mother. It was incredibly healing for him. 

But even as he filled his days with activity and family visits, there was always that ache in his heart, that longing for Rhett’s return. And now, finally, he was coming home. 

Miles had been bustling around all day. Baking Rhett’s favorite apple pie, preparing a slow simmering stew, ensuring the chores were done so he wouldn’t have to worry about them when he came home. Cleaning the house from top to bottom, fluffing the pillows on the bed, anything and everything to keep his mind occupied. 

There was only so much he could do. With the pie cooling on the window sill, the floors swept, the house in tip-top shape, he was left with nothing else to distract himself with. So he curled up on the couch with a book. Matilda climbed into his lap, letting out one of her raspy little meows. 

“Hey, old bird,” Miles cooed, reaching up to scratch her head. She chirped at him, curling up on his lap, where she proceeded to begin making biscuits against his thigh. His heart warmed at the sight, book set to the side in favor of showering the kitty in attention. 

“You just as excited for Daddy to come home as I am?” He asked. She pushed her head more insistently into his hand as if to say yes. 

Matilda loved Rhett, her favorite pastime being flopping down at his feet every time he walked, nearly causing him to trip. Miles couldn’t blame the old gal, he too would drop to Rhett’s feet constantly if he could. 

Matilda had been in their lives for three years. Surrendered to Wabang’s only animal shelter because her aging owner could no longer care for her, Miles met her when he volunteered at the shelter for a special adoption event. No one wanted the scraggly looking elderly cat with health issues and missing teeth. 

The poor thing was curled into the corner of her kennel, frightened and confused. It was only natural that Miles would be drawn to her. In a way, he saw himself in her. Scared, alone, traumatized. After all, that was how Rhett found him at the El Royale, what seemed like a lifetime ago. 

Miles believed himself to be a lost cause. But Rhett saw something in him. Something worth saving. And that was what Miles saw when he looked upon that scared little cat. 

He adopted her that day. It didn’t take much convincing. All he had to do was turn to Rhett and look at him with his big, wet eyes, and the cowboy was giving in with a soft sigh. 

“You and your bleedin’ heart,” he fondly murmured. 

Since then, Matilda had become a source of joy for both men. She was Miles’ partner in crime, and she had quite the affinity for Rhett. When she wasn’t flopping down at his feet, she was curling up on his shoulder when he sat on the couch. 

She had felt his absence just as much as Miles had. The household just wasn’t the same without Rhett. 

Meanwhile, not far from home, Rhett was feeling that same loneliness, and sense of anticipation. He’d just crossed the Wyoming state line, and in just sixty minutes, he would be reunited with his love. He hadn’t expected to be gone for an entire month, but that was how things unfolded. 

He’d never been apart from Miles for that long, and it was torturous. He felt like one half of a whole, a missing puzzle piece. And sleeping had been hell, because he was so used to sleeping with Miles’ head resting upon his chest. To sleep in an uncomfortable bunk, in a bunkhouse full of crude cowboys, for an entire month had been miserable. 

The guys were nice enough, and he’d made friends with most of them. But after living with a group of men, Rhett had come to deeply appreciate his Miles, even more so than he already did. Rhett wasn’t necessarily intuitive when it came to cleaning and neatness. But he had gotten much better about it since Miles had come into his life.

Miles was extremely neat and regimented. He did all the laundry, folded the clothes a specific way, made the bed exactly the way he’d been expected to make his bunk in the military. He preferred all his products to be lined up a specific way in the bathroom. That was partly a compulsive tendency, and partly military training. Everything was clean and neat and in its place.

Of course, Miles didn’t expect Rhett to be exactly like that. But he had shown him how he preferred to keep things, how to be neat and organized. It wasn’t that Rhett was careless, it was simply that he wasn’t taught. His mother hadn’t spent as much time emphasizing those things. He was clean, but he wasn’t organized. 

Miles had certainly rubbed off on him in the time that they had been together. He’d gotten so used to the neatness, the order, that living in a bunkhouse full of men who generally weren’t neat and orderly was a bit of a rude awakening. 

Oh, how eager he was to go home, and sleep in a bed of crisp linen sheets, freshly laundered, smelling of the pine scented gentle detergent that Miles used. The cottage, a cozy little fixer-upper that Rhett and Miles had worked hard to remodel, would smell earthy and sweet, thanks to the essential oil diffusers (filled with cat-safe oils, of course) that Miles kept running throughout the house. 

It was comforting. It was home. It was everything he could ever dream of having. 

And the closer he got, with each passing road sign that pointed toward Wabang, the more giddy he felt. Because he had a surprise for Miles. In his time away, Rhett had decided to let his beard grow out. Partly because he’d forgotten to pack razors, and because he just couldn’t be bothered to care. He kept it neat with an electric razor lent to him by one of the guys he worked with, but otherwise let it continue to grow.

He’d never sported a beard before, so he wasn’t sure what Miles would think. His husband had always loved his stubble, said it gave him a more rugged look. Would he like a beard just as much? There was only one way to find out. 

He’d purposely avoided video calling Miles, citing bad reception, which was actually true, as he had to drive to a spot all the way outside the ranch just to get enough bars of service for their nightly phone call. But it had worked out in his favor, because it allowed him to keep his newly grown facial hair a secret. 

In his head, he’d gone over the different ways Miles might react. Either he would love it, or he would gently tell Rhett that he needed to shave it. Rhett wasn’t attached to the beard, so he would shave it with no problem, if that was what Miles wanted.

However, he didn’t anticipate just how much his husband would love it. To the point where he would forbid him from shaving at all. 

The hour drive through Wyoming felt like days, a slow form of torture as he continued to glance at the clock on the truck dash, watching time drag on like sand in an hourglass. So close, yet so far. 

Never again would he spend so long apart from his love. The only other time they had been forced to be apart was then. The night Rhett had nearly lost Miles. A whirlwind of terror, confusion, and chaos. Forced apart by strange and impossible circumstances. Rhett had to fight tooth and nail just to get back to Miles, to save him, to keep him alive. 

This time, being apart had not been forced. They had not been taken from each other, their lives had not been threatened. Rhett willingly left to do what he felt was necessary to ensure their financial security. And Miles, though sad to see him go, had encouraged it. 

“It’ll be a good experience for you,” he’d assured Rhett. “I think you should go.”

So he did. But oh, what a relief it was to return. And he knew in his heart that no matter how much money was involved, he wouldn’t leave, not unless Miles could come with him. 

What a major step it had been for Rhett to admit that he needed someone. Not in the way of codependency, or in the way that he was incapable of being by himself. But in the way that his life wasn’t the same without Miles, that he didn’t want to imagine a world where his sweetheart with the soft blue eyes and the honey colored curls wasn’t there.

And in the way that Rhett had spent so many years on his own, thinking he was unlovable, undesirable. That no woman would ever want him, because what did he bring to the table? A couple of DUIs? A fucked up shoulder and an alcohol problem? A dangerous career that could end with him paralyzed, or worse?

He certainly couldn’t entertain the thought of being with a man, either. More so because of his own insecurity and fear than anything else. He didn’t think his family would shun him for it, but he did worry about what the townsfolk would say. What his mother’s church, who was so staunchly against homosexuality, might say. 

And then, there was that fear of being treated differently by fellow bull riders. In a more “masculine” sport, he worried about being seen as less than a man. Now, he knew how foolish he had been. But back then, as a sheltered, small town ranch boy, he didn’t know anything different. Navigating his sexuality was a scary thing. In some ways it was easier not to acknowledge it. To pretend like his attraction to men simply didn’t exist.

And then he was thrown through a black hole that brought him tumbling headfirst into the lobby of Miles’ hotel, and everything changed. It was easy to deny his sexuality when there was no man to place his affections upon.

Meeting Miles changed everything. During that time at the El Royale, no matter how short-lived it was, it felt as if they were the only two men left on earth. And what followed was an intense love story, one that Rhett still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around.

Somehow, despite all the adversity they had endured together, they had been given a second chance. Since then, Rhett had promised himself he would never live ashamed of his sexuality again. 

It had taken longer for Miles to come to terms with his own identity, rooted deeply in religious guilt and trauma, not to mention his upbringing, that took place during a time in history that was so much different from Rhett’s. But Miles had come a long way, in his journey of accepting himself. After coming within a hair’s width of death, his perspective had changed greatly. 

Almost seven years after that harrowing night at the hotel, they had put all that pain behind them. They wore the proof of their love, of their commitment to one another, on their ring fingers. Rhett could hardly believe, after so many years of repressing his true self, that he was now married to another man. What a milestone he had crossed, the day he said “I do” in the middle of Wabang City Hall. 

And thus, they had become Rhett and Miles Abbott-Miller.

Now, Rhett was pulling into the driveway of the very home he shared with his husband. Their forever home. And as he took in the familiar, comforting sight of their little slice of heaven, he couldn’t help but smile, warmth spreading through his chest. 

He was where he was always meant to be. What a privilege to return to the homestead he had built with Miles. In the waning light of day, the chickens frolicked about near their coop. The horses grazed in their pasture. The goats played in their pen. 

A domestic scene, one that stole Rhett’s breath away as he pulled the old GMC Sierra to a stop. This was where he belonged. Where the other half of his heart resided. 

Inside the cozy cabin, Miles, who had managed to get into a chapter of his book, perked up at the sound of an approaching engine. With a soft gasp, his nimble fingers shoved the bookmark between the book’s yellowed pages, casting it aside on the oak coffee table beside him. 

“Daddy’s home, Tils!” Came his exclamation to his cat. 

“Mrow,” she said. 

Quick as a flash, Miles jumped up from the couch, shoving his feet into his house slippers. The orthopedic kind, so his feet wouldn’t ache from walking on the cottage’s hardwood floors all day. Matilda was hot on his heels as he made his way to the front door. 

Through the window, he could see Rhett’s truck coming to a stop, and a jolt of sheer and utter elation rippled through him. He’s home. 

Without a second thought, Miles flung the door open, uncaring that he was wearing his inside shoes outside. That was a problem he would sort out later, solved by taking a few disinfectant wipes to the soles of the slippers. 

From this angle, he couldn’t see Rhett’s face as he climbed out of the truck and went around the side to grab his duffel. Rhett kept his head down, almost as if purposely shielding it from Miles’ view. And, essentially, that was what he was doing. 

Rhett could hardly contain his smile at the sound of Miles’ rushed footsteps, coming closer and closer. “You’re home!” A sweet exclamation that hit Rhett directly in the heart, warming him from the inside out. 

Duffel slung over his shoulder, Rhett turned to face his husband, revealing what he had so sneakily been concealing for so long. 

The new addition to his face went momentarily unnoticed as Miles launched himself forward, straight into Rhett’s arms, the force so sudden it knocked the baseball cap off Rhett’s head. “Oh, I missed you so much!” 

Rhett caught him with ease, joy washing over him in waves, big arms wrapping around Miles’ smaller frame, holding him tight against his chest. He didn’t expect the wave of emotion that hit him, but it gripped him in an instant, eyes welling with tears. “Missed you too, bub,” came his whisper, fracturing around the edges. 

Miles buried his face against Rhett’s chest and breathed in deep. Earth, the peppery edge of cologne, and that natural, addicting musk that could only be described as Rhett. 

When Miles pulled back, searching for a kiss, he froze, eyes going wide as saucers as he gasped, “Oh! Oh my gosh, you grew a beard!”

Rhett couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, crow’s feet deepening around his eyes. “Yeah! What d’ya think?” He stepped back slightly to give Miles a better look.

The look in Miles’ eyes, shimmery and full of wonder, reminded Rhett so much of the way he had looked up at him on the day they got married, as Rhett slid a ring onto Miles’ slender finger. 

“Wow,” Miles breathed, hands lifting so he could tentatively run his fingers through the beard. It wasn’t too long, nor was it too short. It was just right. And oh, how it made him weak in the knees. 

The addition of facial hair made Rhett look so much more rugged. Strong and masculine, as if he had been away in the wilderness for weeks, hunting for food to bring back to his sweet little wife. Who, in this case, was Miles. 

“I’m guessing that means you like it?” Rhett asked, still smiling, though a bit uncertain.

“Like it?!” Miles’ blunt nails gently scratched at the beard. “I’m speechless! Honey, you look…just…wow!” He dove forward again, mouth connecting with Rhett’s. It only took the cowboy a moment to regain his composure, large hands coming to rest upon Miles’ narrow waist as he melted into the kiss.

Rhett’s mustache bit against Miles’ soft upper lip, not necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, but a reminder that it was there. Miles couldn’t help it. He whimpered softly against Rhett’s mouth, body pressed firmly against him, fingers clutching at the collar of his button down.

When they parted, they were both breathless. Miles’ gaze went a little unfocused. His cheeks warmed pink. “Uh, s-sorry. I kinda lost my composure there for a second,” he murmured.

A mischievous glint shone in Rhett’s eyes as he smiled again. “Shit, you really like it, huh darlin’?”

“Well, yeah. How could I not? I don’t see you for almost an entire month and then you show up looking like a mountain man? I mean, good grief! I have half a mind to just drop right here and ride you in the middle of the driveway.”

At that, Rhett sputtered out a laugh, the tips of his ears turning red. “Well damn, here I was thinkin’ I was coming home to my sweet little husband. Didn’t know I was actually coming home to a feral little beast instead.”

Miles shook his head, not at all sheepish. Why should he be ashamed of his attraction to his man? “I can’t help it, you make me feral. Especially with a beard.”

Regaining some of his composure, Rhett ducked forward, nuzzling against Miles’ cheek. At that, he giggled, shrugging away from the scratchiness. “Stop! Don’t you start terrorizing me!”

“Oh? But I thought you liked the beard?” He moved to rub his face against Miles again, but the other man slipped out of his arms. 

“I do, but first we’re putting some conditioner on it so it’s not as rough! Then you can rub it against me all you want!” 

“But I wanna rub it against you now.”

Miles dashed toward the house, quick on his feet, but Rhett was right behind him, duffel bag tossed aside as his long arms reached out to catch Miles by the waist. Laughing like school children, they stumbled over each other, landing in the grass in a heap.

“Stop! You monster! Let me go!” Miles squealed, shoving at Rhett’s broad chest. Certainly strong enough to fully push him off if he wanted, but not trying in the slightest.

Rhett grabbed onto Miles’ wrists, pinning them to the ground above his head. “What’re you gonna do now, huh li’l mouse? Can’t stop me from rubbin’ my beard all over that cute face of yours, now, can you?”

“No! Rhett!” Miles cried, despite the giggles flowing out of him.

Rhett shoved his face against Miles’, rubbing that scratchy beard all over his blushing cheeks. That drew the sound of the beautiful belly laugh that Rhett adored so much, the kind that shook through Miles’ entire body and bubbled out of him in a way that seemed almost painful, though it was the furthest thing from it. 

“Okay! Okay! You’ve made your point!”

At that, Rhett lifted his head so his face was hovering inches away from Miles’, and they both melted into another fit of laughter, bodies pressed to one another, against the warm earth of their homestead. 

As their laughter quieted, a comfortable blanket of silence settled upon them, interrupted only by the steady breeze and the sound of farm life around them. Rhett nuzzled his nose against Miles’, humming lowly. “S’good to be home.”

Miles’ hands lifted to hold Rhett’s face, palms pressed gently against the beard. “It’s good to have you home.” 

When Rhett kissed him, it was deep, loving, filled with all the minutes, hours, and days of yearning he’d experienced while he was away from his beloved. When they parted, both were breathless, warmth rushing through them like champagne fizz. 

Hands resting upon the back of Rhett’s neck, Miles opened his mouth to speak. “Honey, I—”

“Meow.”

The raspy note of Matilda’s voice, which Rhett liked to joke made her sound like she smoked ten packs of cigarettes a day, interrupted whatever Miles had been about to say. 

Rhett looked over to find the cat approaching, fluffy tail vibrating in excitement as she greeted her second dad. With the shake of his head, he reached over, scratching between her ears. “Hey, old bird. Did ya miss me?”

“She sure did. Slept on one of your flannels every night ‘cause it smelled like you.”

“Surprised you didn’t sleep on one of my flannels too,” Rhett teased. 

“I did actually sleep on your pillow because it smelled like you. Even sprayed your cologne on it after I did the laundry, hopin’ to make it smell like you again.”

“Did it work?”

“Wasn’t the same. But it’s alright, you’re back now so I can just lay my head on your chest and smell you all night long.”

Another bout of laughter followed, while Rhett absently scratched at Matilda’s head. Here, surrounded by his little family, he was exactly where he was always meant to be. “Guess we should get off the ground, huh?”

“I dunno, I’m kinda just content to lay here and pet this gorgeous beard.”

At that, Rhett shook his head, scoffing. “Gorgeous? I wouldn’t go that far.”

Miles leaned up to kiss the tip of Rhett’s nose. “I would. Beard’s gorgeous, I said what I said, no take-backs.”

With a roll of his eyes, Rhett playfully nipped at Miles’ bottom lip before he finally scrambled to his feet, reaching out to pull Miles upright. “Alright, beard monster. Let’s get inside.”

Miles giggled, watching as Rhett stooped to grab his duffel, and together, the two ambled toward the house, hips bumping as they walked, Rhett’s arm around Miles’ shoulders, Miles’ arm around his waist. 

Matilda followed eagerly after them, darting around their feet. 

“Old gal’s tryin’ to trip us,” Rhett muttered.

“I think she’s herding us into the house,” came Miles’ reply, laced with laughter. 

By some miracle, they managed to get inside without falling over top of the cat. As Miles closed the door behind them, Rhett stood in the entryway, breathing in deeply for a moment. The scent of home enveloped him like a comforting hug.

Cedar and oak from the hand cut woodwork that accented the cottage, chamomile and frankincense from the diffuser Miles kept on the entryway credenza. And then, of course, there was the scent of a slow simmering stew, onion and garlic and seared meat. 

Rhett’s stomach growled. Miles’ cooking was his favorite. After going weeks without it, he couldn’t wait to eat whatever it was that his husband had cooked up. “Smells s’damn good in here,” he murmured as he toed his boots off, careful to put them on the boot rack near the door. Miles hated when he left his shoes in the middle of the floor. 

“I’m makin’ stew!” Miles happily replied. “I also made you an apple pie.”

At that, hearts might as well have appeared in Rhett’s eyes, like a silly cartoon. His arm found its way to Miles’ waist again, pulling him into the warmth of his body. “What’d I ever do to get blessed with such a good husband? You spoil me, bub.”

Lashes fluttering, Miles shook his head. “You know me, always gotta make sure my man is fed well.”

Rhett ducked his head, kissing Miles once more. They melted into one another, in the cozy confines of their cottage, finally at ease, at peace, two halves of a whole joined together again. When Rhett’s tongue swiped at the bottom of Miles’ lip, he eagerly opened his mouth, letting Rhett inside. Tasting each other, memorizing the feel of one another’s tongues, the slick warmth of their mouths. 

It was dizzying. Intoxicating. Within his chest, Miles felt his heart rate spike, fluttering like a hummingbird. Rhett’s was the same, a caged bird trying to escape. His Miles was so soft against him, cheeks rounded and a little squishy, blushing with the glow of good health. 

What a testament to how well he was doing. Rhett remembered how, not so long ago, Miles was all gaunt cheeks and sharp angles. Now here he stood, healthy and robust. And he was whimpering into Rhett’s mouth, losing himself to the kiss. Fuck. What a pretty sound.

Miles’ hands lifted to take hold of Rhett’s collar, then, as if remembering the beard existed, his fingers began to run through it, petting the slightly coarse hair. Rhett’s hand rested upon Miles’ lower back, pulling him closer, pelvis tilting into his own. 

Rhett felt it then. The telltale hardness that was beginning to grow in Miles’ sweatpants. At that, they parted, both out of breath, eyes a little unfocused, swaying in one another’s arms. 

“Oh, um, I…got a little carried away,” came Miles’ reply, voice cracking. He glanced down, cheeks warming as he realized he was hard. 

With the shake of his head, Rhett grinned. “We’ve been apart for a whole damn month. No such thing as gettin’ carried away, not after we’ve been missin’ each other so much.”

“Uh-huh,” Miles agreed as Rhett kissed at his jaw, distracted by the scrape of his mustache. “But I wanna feed you first. Know you’re probably starvin’.”

“I am starvin’,” Rhett agreed, “but it ain’t for stew or apple pie. Got somethin’ even tastier right in front of me.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to let the stew simmer for a little longer…”

The smile that spread across Rhett’s face was wolfish. “Now we’re talkin’.”

“But you have to let me soften this thing up a bit first, ‘cause I just know it’s gonna give me a rash if you don’t,” Miles mused, stroking Rhett’s beard again. 

“Alright, how ‘bout we go hop in the shower? Gotta rinse off anyway, A/C is busted in the truck and the ride home was sweaty. I probably stink to high heaven.”

Miles shook his head, eyes glimmering. “No, you smell like you, and I love it. But it wouldn’t hurt to take a shower anyway.”

“Alrighty then, let’s get to it, loverboy.” 

Together, they headed toward the staircase that led to the upper level, where their bedroom, and the bathroom resided. Giggling, stumbling slightly, hands all over each other, they managed to ascend the steps, Rhett dragging his duffel bag along with him. Once they reached the bedroom, the bag hit the floor with a thud. 

The cozy oasis instantly made Rhett feel at ease. The floor was dark wood, a large rug with shades of green covering part of it. The bed frame was fashioned out of rustic wood, built by Rhett’s own hands. Bedding in shades of green complimented the rug, bringing the room together. 

The room smelled of lavender, soothing in nature. 

This haven was their safe space. A place of solitude and comfort, surrounding the bed in which they held one another as they slept, spent hours engaging in pillow talk, and made sweet love to each other. 

Rhett no longer had to sleep on an uneven vinyl mattress in a bunkhouse full of guys. There was no doubt that he would sleep like a baby tonight, in the comfort of his own bed. But first, there were some things to attend to. Which were made clear by the insistent press of Miles against his back, cheek resting between his shoulder blades as his arms encircled Rhett’s waist from behind. 

“If you grab the towels, I’ll start the shower.”

Rhett hummed. “Sure thing, darlin’.”

And so they parted, Rhett with his job, and Miles with his own.

Steam began to rise in the bathroom, fogging up the mirror and creating a hazy atmosphere as Miles brought the water to the perfect temperature. Rhett joined him moments later, holding two neatly folded towels in one hand, and a bottle of something in his other.

“I, uh, have this beard oil here. One of the guys I was workin’ with gave it to me, but I haven’t tried it out yet. Thought now might be the perfect time.”

Miles nodded eagerly. “Yes! That’s good, we can use it when we’re done.” He took the items from Rhett, setting them down upon the bathroom counter. “Now, go ‘head and get naked, cowboy. Water’s nice and hot.”

“You just want me to strip for ya, s’that it?” Came Rhett’s teasing. 

“I mean, unless you want to take a shower fully clothed…”

With the roll of his eyes, Rhett shook his head, already moving to begin unbuttoning his shirt. But a glint of mischief flashed in Miles’ eyes, and he moved toward Rhett like a honey badger in search of sticky sweet honey. “Wait! Let me do it.”

In amusement, Rhett watched as Miles’ nimble fingers began to undo each button. Once he got to the waistline of his jeans, he gripped the belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. Something about that act made Rhett’s breath hitch in his throat, his mind flashing back to so many times like this one, in which Miles had eagerly unbuckled his belt to take his cock in his mouth.

Rhett’s blood rushed south.

“Honey.”

“Huh?”

“I said, could you step out of your jeans, please?”

Rhett glanced down, realizing Miles was waiting for him to lift each foot from the pant legs of his jeans. “Oh. Got distracted, sorry.”

Miles giggled as he tossed the now discarded jeans to the side. “Soon as I get on my knees you go all caveman brained,” he teased, pressing a kiss to Rhett’s bare thigh. 

“Can ya blame me? Got a little nymph kneelin’ at my feet, can’t help but lose my composure a bit.”

A blush darkened Miles’ cheeks. “I’m a nymph now, huh?” He asked with the raise of his brow.

“Yep. Real cute one too.”

“What kind? Dryad? Naiad? Aurae?”

It was Rhett’s turn to blush, though his was because Miles had such extensive knowledge of Greek mythology, and Rhett was totally out of his element. “I, uh…I dunno, which one do you want to be?” 

Miles giggled as he rose to stand. “I’ll go with dryad. They’re tree nymphs.”

That gave Rhett the opportunity to roll with it and return a humorous quip. “Why? ‘Cause you wanna climb me like a tree?”

They both melted into laughter, Miles shoving at Rhett’s chest. “You’re lame.”

“Ain’t that why you love me?”

“I love you in spite of your lameness.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Rhett pulled him in for another kiss, before he shrugged his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor with a barely audible whisper of fabric. 

That left him in just his underwear, and Miles still fully clothed. Something that needed to be remedied. Rhett eased Miles’ waffle knit shirt over his head, exposing his upper body. Dusky pink nipples that had hardened to stiff little peaks. Milky skin dotted with freckles. A soft tummy, with a scar directly in the middle, just above his bellybutton. 

Slightly jagged, pale around the edges. The scar that had nearly taken him from Rhett. The scar that reminded them both of everything they had overcome just to be able to live this sweet, slow life on their little homestead. 

Rhett was struck with a wave of awe as he watched Miles undress. He so vividly remembered the first time he had slept with Miles, back at the El Royale. Though Rhett had never had sex with another man before, he wasn’t half as nervous as Miles had been. Trembling hands, blushing cheeks, eyes that couldn’t meet the cowboy’s gaze.

Miles admitted that he had been with men before, but the reason he was so nervous was because he’d never connected with any of them like this. It wasn’t a quick, hurried fuck in the dark that left Miles feeling like damaged goods, dirty and used. This was intimate. And true intimacy was a very foreign thing to Miles. 

He had been shy. Uncertain. But that was okay, because Rhett was patient. He, too, was navigating something foreign and new. 

Then, Miles had been self-conscious about undressing in front of Rhett. Now, he shrugged out of his clothes without hesitancy or complaint, comfortable in his own skin, accustomed to being naked in front of his husband. 

The cherry on top? Rhett caught a glimpse of something glimmering, nestled between the soft swell of Miles’ ass, as he stepped out of his underwear. 

“You’re wearin’ a plug?” He didn’t mean for his voice to crack, but it did anyway. 

Miles paused, lashes fluttering as he smiled, not shyly, but mischievously. “Well I wanted to be ready for you, had to keep myself stretched.” He said it so matter-of-fact, and it sent a jolt of arousal through Rhett. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Such a good boy.” 

At that, Miles couldn’t help but beam with pride. Rhett’s praise always made his heart sing. He knew wearing a plug would elicit such a reaction. His husband couldn’t get enough of the sight of that pretty, purple, heart shaped jewel contrasted against Miles’ skin. 

It was clear that Miles had been banking on the fact that he was going to get fucked tonight. And Rhett would gladly oblige him. But first, there were other things to attend to. 

“C’mon, get outta those underwear and hop in, so we don’t waste any more water,” Miles said, motioning toward the shower. 

Nodding dumbly, Rhett was already moving to tug his boxers down his legs, half hard beneath them. The sight of him, naked as day, stole Miles’ breath away. It had only been a month, and yet, seeing him now, it felt as if they had spent a lifetime apart. 

He nearly dropped to his knees to take that gorgeous, thick cock into his mouth. But somehow, Miles mustered enough restraint not to do that, but to instead grab Rhett’s hand and guide him into the steam of the shower. 

Rhett followed like a lovesick puppy, which was essentially what he was. As the warm water enveloped him, his hands took hold of Miles’ hips, drawing him closer. The press of bare skin against bare skin was overwhelmingly intimate. It stole Rhett’s breath away. 

He realized how touch starved he was, as he wrapped his arms around Miles, allowing the water to cascade over them both. Going without his lover’s sweet embrace had been more torturous than he even realized. 

Funny, Rhett had always believed himself to have an aversion to touch. In reality, he had merely been so deprived of affection, that he had allowed himself to believe he had no desire for it. 

First, he had needed to come to the conclusion that he could seek out affection, that it was okay, that he wouldn’t be dismissed, turned away, scoffed at. It had helped, early on in their relationship, that Miles needed him. When Rhett first brought him home after his hospital stay following the events of the El Royale, there was a lot of physical contact involved. 

Miles needed to be held when the nightmares woke him in the night. Needed Rhett’s help to take care of himself, to bathe, to do basic tasks that required Rhett to get up close and personal with him. And through that, they had developed a very deep bond. Physical touch provided them both so much comfort during that time, and it still provided comfort now. 

“Missed holdin’ you,” Rhett murmured, voice low. “Hell, I missed everythin’ about you. Already knew I was lucky to have you, but living in a bunkhouse full of dudes reminded me just how lucky.”

At that, Miles grinned. “Oh, he finally admits it.”

That earned an eye roll from Rhett, who playfully swatted Miles’ pert ass. “Hush up, ‘ve always told you how lucky I am to have ya. Just had a good reminder this past month after bein’ away from you.”

“You just missed me for my cooking,” came Miles’ teasing reply. 

Eyes glimmering, Rhett shrugged. “That, and maybe I missed the really good head you give.”

It was Miles’ turn to shake his head in disbelief, pushing at Rhett’s chest. “Oh, unhand me, you perv. Let me condition that beard of yours.”

In reply, Rhett snickered, releasing Miles so he could grab what he needed. But Rhett couldn’t be expected to keep his hands to himself for long, not after being so deprived. 

When Miles turned back around, shampoo in hand, Rhett guided him close once again, tilting his chin back to kiss him languidly. 

“Let me take care of you for a minute,” Miles spoke against Rhett’s mouth, “wanna make you feel pampered.”

An amused hum left Rhett’s mouth. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh, ‘cause I know you haven’t had much pamperin’ these last few weeks. Taking rushed showers doesn’t count. You need someone to actually take care of you.”

Something about that took Rhett’s breath away, and he couldn’t conjure up a coherent reply. Certainly not when Miles coaxed him to kneel upon the shower floor so he could properly wash Rhett’s hair. There was a tenderness that Miles brought to everything he did. Care and attention to detail. 

Rhett let himself be looked after. Miles so carefully detached the shower head and used it to dampen Rhett’s hair, allowing some water to cascade down to his beard. The shower head was returned to its cradle in favor of pouring shampoo into his palm, which he first lathered in his hands before so gently working it through Rhett’s hair.

“Your hair got longer too,” Miles observed, “I like it.” 

Rhett was too busy enjoying the sensation of Miles’ fingers massaging his scalp to reply. Eyes fluttering shut, he allowed himself to fully relax. Above him, Miles couldn’t help but admire how at peace his husband looked. The crease in his brow had smoothed out, stress melting away. Miles could only imagine the physical toll the last few weeks had taken. 

Rhett was tired. But now, he could rest. 

“Alright, I’m gonna wash your beard now.” 

At that, Rhett opened his eyes, watching Miles’ focused expression as he lathered shampoo into the beard. His lashes fluttered, eyes glimmering, mouth parting. The expression made Rhett’s heart stutter in his chest. He had never felt more beautiful than he did under his husband’s gaze.

Rhett had never had a high opinion of himself or his own looks, but with the way Miles looked at him, he may as well have been the most handsome man in the entire world. And he was, to Miles. All others paled in comparison. 

Rhett might’ve offered another teasing quip about how far gone Miles was for this beard, but he couldn’t find it in himself to muster a coherent word. Not when his face was so gently cradled in Miles’ hands, handled with the utmost care. 

When it came time to rinse the soap out, Miles was cautious not to get any in Rhett’s mouth, or his eyes. And once he was finished, he spoke, voice slightly wrecked. “You can stand now. Don’t want your knees to hurt from kneeling for too long.”

When Rhett rose to his feet, he watched Miles turn to grab the conditioner bottle, muscle rippling beneath his skin with the movement. Quiet strength, rebuilt after a long period of weakness. A time when Miles could barely walk, because of the pain he was in. Now he hauled bales of hay, carried feed sacks over one shoulder, endured more strenuous forms of labor. He still dealt with lingering aches and pains from his old injuries, at times, but it wasn’t debilitating any longer. 

“You’re staring.”

Rhett’s eyes snapped up to Miles’, and a smile tugged at his mouth. Not sheepish, but loving. “I was just admirin’ your muscles.”

A flush creeped onto Miles’ cheeks. “Oh. They ain’t anything to write home about.”

“Are you kiddin’ me? Look how strong you’ve gotten after all this time. I mean, you could barely walk when I first brought ya back to Wabang. Now look at all you can do.” Instinctively, he pulled Miles toward him, arms winding around his waist, bodies slick from the water, warm from the heat. Skin to skin, chest to chest, desire thrumming between them, where their hips met. 

“Guess I have come pretty far. But it’s because you believed in me. Couldn’t have done any of it without you.”

Rhett hummed, nuzzling his nose against Miles’. “We’re a team. We work together.” One large hand came up to rest against the scarred side of Miles’ face, thumb rubbing loving circles against his cheek. The feeling of raised skin beneath his touch always reminded Rhett that Miles was very much alive and well. 

Here, in the cozy warmth of their shower, the sweet scent of coconut shampoo hanging in the damp air. A place of softness, goodness, love. 

“Love you so much.” Miles murmured, slow and relaxed. Then his mouth curved into a smile. “But you gotta let me condition the beard now. You keep distracting me.”

“Sorry, sorry, can’t help myself. Wanna hold ‘n squeeze you all the time, twenty-four-seven.” For emphasis, his hands skimmed down the expanse of Miles’ back, gripping the plushness of his ass. 

By some miracle, Miles managed to smooth conditioner into Rhett’s beard, without dropping the bottle, even with the other man grabbing at him. He even managed to ease out of Rhett’s grip and grab soap and a wash cloth.

As he let the conditioner sit, Miles began to attentively wash Rhett’s body. Careful passes of the cloth, starting at the neck and working his way down. Over Rhett’s chest, over that ridiculous faded bull and rider tattoo that he’d gotten at a sketchy tattoo shop when he was eighteen. Over the scar on his shoulder, where he’d taken a bullhorn when he was twenty-one. 

Down, down, down his torso Miles went. Washing away sweat, leaving Rhett’s skin clean and slightly pink. Then, Miles found himself kneeling, and something shifted in his expression. With reverence and tenderness, he ran the cloth between Rhett’s strong thighs, over the ever-growing hardness there.

On instinct, Miles leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the base of it, and Rhett gasped softly above him. There was an innocence to that action, a sweetness, and it increased Rhett’s desire so intensely that he had to reach a hand back against the shower wall to steady himself. 

Miles was so tempted to suck him off then and there, but he had an end goal in mind, and that involved being in the soft comfort of their bed. So he forced himself to continue cleansing Rhett’s skin, moving further down his legs, until, finally, Miles rose to stand once again. 

“Gotta, um, rinse out that conditioner now.”

“Bub.”

“Yeah?”

“Y’can have me in your mouth, if you want.”

At that, Miles shook his head. “I know, but I don’t wanna do it in the shower. I’d rather be in bed.”

Rhett couldn’t help but grin. “Anythin’ for you, princess.”

“Hush up,” Miles responded, though he couldn’t hide his own smile. He set the wash cloth aside and grabbed the shower head again, using it to quickly rinse the conditioner out of Rhett’s beard. Then, once he was satisfied, he shut the water off. 

Quick and methodical, he gave Rhett a towel to dry off with, before grabbing one for himself. Miles would take his own full shower later, because he knew he would need one after whatever mischief he and Rhett got up to in bed. 

Until then, Miles ushered Rhett to sit upon the closed toilet seat. He’d wrapped his towel around his waist, and it did little to conceal his arousal. Miles tried his best not to get distracted by it as he retrieved a clean, dry face towel from the cabinet. 

Rhett let himself once again enjoy the relaxing sensation of his husband’s hands on him. With precision, Miles towel dried the beard, and then retrieved the bottle of oil from the vanity, pausing to read the directions before he began to apply it.

Once satisfied, he took a fine tooth comb, and ran it through the beard, ensuring it looked neat and well-kept. “There. All finished.” He was beaming. Eyes shimmering. Admiring his man. 

Rhett turned, glancing over his shoulder to get a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the bathroom sink. “Not half bad,” he said with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Maybe you should open a barber shop.”

“Maybe I should,” Miles jokingly agreed. 

After he put the beard oil away, Rhett guided Miles toward him, hands on his hips, over the towel he’d wrapped around his waist. Eyes hungry, Rhett gazed up at him, and admired the way his honeyed curls, damp from the shower, fell across his forehead. He looked angelic, in a way. 

“Y’know…” Rhett began, “I was thinkin’. You like my beard so much, maybe you’d like to go for a little ride on it.”

“Oh, uh, we don’t have to, if–”

“I wouldn’t offer, if I didn’t want to do it.” He lovingly squeezed the backs of Miles’ thighs through the terrycloth. “You spent all this time gettin’ it nice and soft. Should be allowed to enjoy your hard work, don’t ya think?”

“I-I guess so.” Cheeks blushing pink. Lashes fluttering. 

Rhett squared his shoulders, eyes narrowing, a cat eager to play with its little mouse. “C’mon now, pretty baby. Let’s go get in bed so you can sit your cute li’l ass on my face.”

Miles lost his ability to form a coherent sentence as Rhett stood, a full head taller than him. Towering. Broad. Oh, he’d definitely missed this. How small Rhett made him feel. Not a feeling of powerlessness, but of safety, of sanctuary, of peace.

Allowing himself to be led by the wrist, Miles followed Rhett out of the steam-dampened bathroom, the cool air of the hallway leaving goosebumps in its wake as the two made their way into the bedroom. 

Once in the tranquil confines, door shut so Matilda the cat wouldn’t try to sneak in, a blanket of comfort and ease fell upon the two men. There was no performance, no expectation. They could just…be. 

Rhett turned toward Miles, his eyes shimmering with something he could not name. In this haven, they were both exactly where they were meant to be. 

Strong, weathered hands skimmed down Miles’ abdomen, deft fingers unwrapping the towel and sending it to the floor. Rhett’s towel followed suit, leaving them bare to one another again. 

The mattress was soft beneath Miles as he e was guided onto it. Rhett held eye contact as he joined him, straddling Miles’ waist, skin warm against skin. Anticipation hung between them, thrumming through their veins.

In his lungs, Miles’ breath hitched, stalling as Rhett ducked forward, eyes narrow, mouth curved into a knowing smile. And Miles melted beneath him, contentment softening his face. Rhett couldn’t help but admire how at ease the other man appeared. Hair curling in tendrils against his forehead, softening his features and giving him a boyish glow that made Rhett’s heart flip. 

He couldn’t resist tracing Miles’ features with his fingertips. The slope of his nose, the fullness of his blushing cheeks, the thin, pink line of his lips. Instinctively, Miles parted his mouth as Rhett’s thumb brushed over it. Wordlessly, he pressed that thumb forward, allowing Miles to suckle at it.

Rhett watched in awe as Miles’ lashes fluttered, eyes hooded, unfocused. His hands came up to loosely grip Rhett’s wrist.

“Oh. You need it bad, don’t you baby?” Rhett breathed. 

“Uh-huh.” came Miles’ response, mouth still full of Rhett’s thumb.

Warmth spread through Rhett’s chest, that familiar, protective instinct swelling within him. Assuming a role of dominance. Not overbearing, not loud. Quiet, controlled, driven by the need to care for his husband. 

“Waited so long, huh?” He cooed.

At that, Miles pulled back from Rhett’s thumb to speak. “I…I didn’t touch myself the whole time you were gone.”

The admission didn’t shock Rhett. Miles didn’t prefer masturbation, at least not when he was alone. He needed physical contact, needed his partner there with him so he could stay grounded. Getting off by himself usually left him feeling unfulfilled and lonely in the comedown, yearning to be held, so his mind wouldn’t spiral too much.

With a low hum, Rhett nuzzled Miles’ nose. “Can I tell ya, I didn’t touch myself, either? I barely had two seconds of privacy some days. Not so easy to get in the mood when you got people breathin’ down your neck.”

A smile crossed Miles’ face. “So we’re both super pent-up then?”

“Guess so. Gonna have to pace ourselves so we don’t finish too fast.”

Miles reached up to run his fingers through Rhett’s beard. “With this thing on your face, I know I won’t last long.”

“We should put that to the test.” Rhett ducked forward to capture Miles’ sweet, mocking mouth in a kiss. 

It was then that Miles seemed to truly register just how bare they both were. As Rhett kissed him, tongue delving into his mouth, Miles canted his hips forward, cock dragging against Rhett’s, hard and insistent between them. 

This was what Miles had been stretching himself for all day, with that jeweled plug. He couldn’t wait to be filled, connected in the most intimate of ways. But first, there was a beard to sit on. 

Rhett knew how much Miles enjoyed foreplay. Not just leading up to the act itself, but in the hours before. A slow, steady buildup. Stolen touches throughout the day, charges glances, and various acts of service that made Miles swoon. 

Of course, Rhett had only been home for about an hour, so a long, drawn out day of foreplay wasn’t on the table. However, he could still worship his husband in this moment, bringing his mouth down his jaw, his neck. Beard brushing over sensitive flesh as he went. 

He sucked on Miles’ pulse point, which drew the most delicious little whimper, cock growing even harder from the sensation. 

Then, Rhett went lower. Over Miles’ clavicle. Between the valley of his chest. Then, ever so slightly, Rhett ran his bearded cheek over each of Miles’ nipples. That drew a choked gasp from him as he jolted beneath Rhett. 

“O-oh! That…that feels good.” A soft, breathless admission. 

A grin spread across Rhett’s face. “Yeah?” He did it again, facial hair brushing over each pebbled little nipple, enjoying the way his husband squirmed beneath him. 

Then, he continued his descent, kissing over Miles’ belly, gentle as he kissed his scar. There had been a time when Miles couldn’t stand to be touched there, but now, he welcomed it, melting into the affection Rhett left against the mark. 

When Miles lifted his head to gaze down at Rhett, he found him already looking up at him, now hovering just over the dusting of hair that led down his lower abdomen, giving way to a thatch of thicker, blondish hair that framed his cock. 

“Look at that. So hard f’me already.” Rhett’s hand wrapped around Miles’ shaft, tugging once, twice, relishing in the hiss Miles let out. “You ready to sit on my face?”

“Uh-huh.” Mouth loose around the syllables, ability to speak leaving him momentarily. 

Rhett’s brow lifted. “Words, bubba.”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good boy.” Then Rhett shifted, first grabbing a bottle of lube from the nightstand, and then moving to slide the pillows aside so he could lay flat. Once he was settled, he waved Miles over. “Now c’mon, get on up here.”

Butterflies fluttered in Miles’ tummy as he moved to join Rhett, hands resting upon the headboard to steady himself as he swung his leg over to straddle his face. From this position, Miles found himself feeling just a little vulnerable. It wasn’t often that they did this. 

“Don’t you get lost in that pretty head of yours.” Rhett’s hands came up to gently grip Miles’ thighs, squeezing the muscle. “I’m gonna take your plug out now, alright?”

“Okay.”

Rhett slid his hand back, fingers locating the jewel, before he cautiously eased it out of Miles, who sighed softly at the feeling. He’d been wearing it all day, and was struck by the sudden emptiness. An emptiness that would soon be filled. 

After the plug was set aside, Rhett slowly guided Miles forward, until he was hovering over his face. From Rhett’s vantage point, he was admiring everything in his line of sight. Miles’ cock bobbing between his thighs as he shifted, his full balls, the sensitive, pink skin that led to that cute little hole settled between the plushness of his ass.

“Mm, so pretty,” Rhett cooed, pressing a kiss to the inside of Miles’ thigh, certain to rub his beard into the sensitive skin.

That earned him a surprised “oh!”

Rhett couldn’t help but grin. This was going to be so much fun. 

Hands against Miles’ thighs, Rhett kept him steady, guiding him lower until he could mouth lovingly against the underside of his cock. Miles had to grip the headboard again to keep himself upright. The sensation of that beard was indescribable.

As Rhett licked and sucked and nuzzled, Miles found himself falling deeper and deeper into that state that could only be described as champagne fizz, or maybe fireworks, popping through his brain, through his neural receptors, through every nerve ending in his body.

If this had been his first time experiencing such intense sensations, he might’ve asked to stop. But he knew this feeling well. It was something he had begun to experience after he retired the drugs. After he regained his senses, and they weren’t dulled by another form of stimulus. 

He felt everything. 

And then Rhett guided him forward a little more, so he could swirl his tongue around Miles’ entrance, and that heightened it all. Pathetically, brokenly, Miles moaned, eyes rolling back. Fuck, they’d only just started and he was already this far gone. 

He didn’t have to hold back. Didn’t have to hide his pleasure for fear of Rhett’s judgment. Because Rhett loved how sensitive his husband was. How it was so easy to send him over the edge, how Miles was comfortable enough to allow himself to be in his most vulnerable state, because he knew that Rhett would take care of him. 

No matter how fast he fell, Rhett was always there to catch him. 

And now, Rhett held him, guided him, encouraged him to take what he needed as Miles’ hips canted against that bearded face. 

When Miles looked down, his breath caught in his chest. What a salacious sight. Rhett, between his thighs, Miles’ dick resting across his face. It earned a whimpered “oh my stars,” from Miles. 

That drew a deep groan out of Rhett. Didn’t matter how down and dirty they got. Miles rarely uttered swear words. He just wasn’t in the habit of doing so. Instead, he would say his usual clean phrases. Oh goodness. Oh my stars. Oh my gosh.

Rhett found it both adorable and incredibly hot. Perhaps it was his innocence kink running rampant. 

As if anything about what they were doing was innocent whatsoever. 

Wanting to draw more sounds out of his man, Rhett decided to offer double the stimulation. He eased Miles back just a little so he could speak. “Can ya hand me the lube, darlin’?”

Dumbly, Miles nodded, eyes blinking rapidly as he registered what Rhett was asking. Slowly, he reached over to grab the bottle, and Rhett held up his palm. Miles wasn’t sure how he was able to muster the wherewithal to pour some into Rhett’s hand, but he succeeded somehow. 

Then Rhett pulled Miles back over his face, and wrapped that lubed up hand around his cock. The moment he applied pressure, fingers wrapped firmly around the shaft, Miles jolted, gasping raggedly. 

That spurred Rhett on, and he found his rhythm. Just knowing how much enjoyment Miles was getting out of this was turning Rhett on immensely. The sounds his husband made were so sweet, so vulnerable. Whimpers, squeaks, sighs.

The most gorgeous music he’d ever had the pleasure of listening to. Far surpassing even the melodious birdsong Rhett always enjoyed when he was out in the pastures. Miles’ song was even sweeter than a meadowlark’s. 

Rhett drew more sounds of pleasure from him as he continued his onslaught, laving at the delicate skin, delving his tongue inside, nuzzling his beard against Miles just to draw even more whimpers forth, like a babbling brook. 

That, paired with Rhett’s hand steadily stroking him, was almost too much for Miles. He lost himself to the bliss, eyes fluttering shut, head lolling back. Yes, yes, yes, right there, don’t stop. 

Warmth spread through him, from head to toe. His muscles trembled, his heart flip-flopped, his entire being knew only Rhett, Rhett, Rhett. 

Having gone so long without stimulation, experiencing it again was a welcome assault to his senses. He couldn’t help but grind down against his husband’s handsome face, unable to keep still as one hand held the headboard, and the other tangled in the mop of brunette hair beneath him. 

Rhett grunted at the feeling of Miles tugging at the roots, and it only spurred him on, encouraging him to work with more fervor to provide the man above him with as much pleasure as possible. 

As the intensity mounted, Miles found himself instinctively reaching for Rhett’s hand to hold on to, needing the physical contact, an anchor to ground himself so he didn’t float away, up into the sky like a hot air balloon. 

With their fingers intertwined, he tried to focus, tried to be present in the moment, to enjoy being reunited with his love in such a salacious yet intimate way, after being apart for so many days. But his mind kept fixating on various discomforts. The way his thighs were beginning to burn, the way his spine was too tense because he was subconsciously afraid of resting his weight entirely on Rhett.

And then there was the lack of physical contact. Miles needed more. Needed Rhett’s arms around him, his voice in his ear, his body pressed against him. 

Miles opened his mouth to speak, to ask to change positions, but he was suddenly overcome with a wave of pleasure so electric, he realized almost too late that he was already close to falling apart. 

“Ah! W-wait, wait, wait,” he babbled, reaching down to grab Rhett’s wrist. 

Rhett stopped immediately, hand falling away as Miles pulled back, hovering just over Rhett’s chest now. 

“Y’alright, bub?” 

Miles took a steadying breath, lashes fluttering. His face was flushed, cheeks pink, eyes unfocused. “Yeah, I…I don’t wanna cum yet. Got there a little faster than I wanted.”

Rhett’s palm came to rest upon the softness of Miles’ thigh. “Do you wanna take a break?”

In the past, Miles might have let himself spiral over that, worrying that he was upsetting his partner for needing to put things on pause. But now, he found the confidence to say, “yes. I think that would help. Just…need to be close to you for a bit. Can’t get enough contact from in this position.”

A soft, pleased smile passed over Rhett’s face. If his bub wanted to be close to him, he’d give him exactly what he asked for. “Alright, get over here then.”

Miles was then guided down onto the bed, where he eagerly snuggled into the cowboy’s side, warm and safe, no pressure to continue sex until he was ready. 

An apology was on the tip of his tongue. And he would’ve uttered it, if he hadn’t spent the last few years being assured by Rhett time and time again that he didn’t need to be sorry for needing a break. Now, he believed it. He had nothing to apologize for. 

Besides, it was nice to have a moment to just…be. Here, he could exist in the arms of his spouse, in his most vulnerable state. Protected, loved, cherished. The physical contact was welcome, especially after going without for a while. 

“Mm, missed layin’ on you like this,” Miles spoke, nuzzling his face against Rhett’s chest, sparsely dusted with hair. He breathed in deep, inhaling the clean scent, settling even further into the heat of his body. 

Rhett’s arm wrapped around Miles, holding him closer still. The air between them was still charged, thrumming with anticipation of what was to come. But they were in no rush to get there. Rhett was content to hold his sweetheart for a little while longer, and enjoy the closeness. If there was one thing Miles had taught him over the years, it was to be present and enjoy the moment.

If he’d rushed things along, he wouldn’t get to experience this. The soft press of Miles’ mouth as he lifted his head to kiss Rhett’s chest. Again and again, he kissed the skin there, and the slight swell of his pectoral. Lovingly, adoringly, Rhett watched, admiring the way Miles’ lashes fluttered, the way he seemed so at peace.

“Love you so much,” he continued, words muffled as he mouthed at Rhett’s chest, so they sounded more like “luh ya s’much.” 

Rhett was overcome with something he could not name. An all-consuming need to protect, to provide, to hold and cherish. His free hand lifted, thumb gently brushing over the roundness of Miles’ cheek. 

“Love you too, bub.” There was a rawness in his voice. Sincerity burned through him. 

“I…” Miles opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat. He couldn’t voice them. Couldn’t muster the wherewithal to form a single coherent sentence. But Rhett didn’t expect him to speak.

What Miles needed was for his mouth to be occupied. So Rhett gave that to him, guiding him forth until Miles wrapped his lips around one of Rhett’s peaked nipples.

That did exactly what Miles needed it to. He moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as he suckled. It drew a broken gasp from the cowboy, who soon cooed and reached up to brush Miles’ curls away from his forehead. 

“There ya go. That what you needed, baby boy?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. Just had to have your mouth full for a bit. Bet you missed havin’ something to suck on, huh?”

Another whimpered “mhm!”

Rhett knew his partner well. Miles had always had an oral fixation, and together they had found that he loved sucking on Rhett’s fingers, or, in this case, his nipples. Something that Miles had originally been embarrassed about, but Rhett had assured him that he found it to be a major turn on. And not only that, but it had become very soothing for both of them. A way to connect with each other, to experience another form of intimacy. 

Here, in the sacred confines of their bed, they melted into one another. A sense of peace blanketed Miles, his overwhelm fading away as he nuzzled further into Rhett. This was what Miles had needed all along. The close contact. Nights spent in this bed had been so lonely without his cowboy. The emptiness of the house would press into him, too quiet, too vast. He would play soft classical music to fall asleep to, just to fill the silence. 

Now, he could listen to Rhett’s heartbeat, and the soft, rhythmic sound of his breath. Oh, how sweet it was to be reunited. 

If only for a moment, everything disappeared. All of Miles’ worries, all his uncertainty. It left his mind, and in its place, a flood of endorphins rose to the occasion.

Rhett allowed Miles to have his fill, to remain against his chest for as long as he wanted. Because it was just as soothing for Rhett, and he adored watching how peaceful his husband looked. 

And then, instinctively, Miles’ hand came up, fingers absently running through Rhett’s beard, and that quite nearly sent Rhett’s heart soaring up into the heavens. He was a source of comfort. And that privilege meant everything to him. 

He held Miles a little tighter, relishing in the closeness, and in the sound of his soft hums of contentment. 

After a few moments, Miles pulled back, lips wet and shimmering, cheeks flushed, eyes a little glassy. And he seemed to fully register the fact that Rhett was hard and aching, cock resting heavy and flushed against his abdomen. 

Switching gears, his hand skimmed down Rhett’s chest, over his stomach, and stopped right against his cock. Miles’ fingers wrapped around the shaft, thumb swiping over the blushed tip, which leaked a steady stream of molten arousal. 

Rhett’s breath hitched, a shock of pleasure rushing through him. 

“You’re so wet,” Miles murmured, an observation more than anything. But the way he said it, with this unintentional air of innocence, made Rhett’s heart rate pick up speed. 

“Can’t help it,” he grunted, “s’just what you do to me.” 

In wonder, Miles lifted his hand to admire the way the sticky substance glistened on his fingers. And then, he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked those fingers clean. 

Rhett groaned deep in his chest, unable to hold back any longer. With ease, not force, he shifted, until his body was hovering over Miles, not pinning him down, but blanketing him. 

Miles blinked up at him, lashes fluttering, curls mussed atop his head, appearing more like a halo. 

“God, I could just eat ya right up,” came Rhett’s rasped admission. “You got no idea how much you turn me on.”

“If it’s anything like the way you turn me on, I think I have some sort of idea,” Miles managed to tease back, even as his eyes drifted down between their bodies, where Rhett’s cock brushed lightly over his. 

A smile warmed Rhett’s face. “Guess we’re even, huh?” He playfully nipped at Miles’ bottom lip, and when it parted, he kissed him deeply. 

Miles’ brain went haywire once again at the feeling of that facial hair against his skin. The overwhelm he had felt earlier had melted into something much more manageable, and now, he found himself wrapping his arms around Rhett’s shoulders, pulling him closer, eager for more. 

“Whatcha want, bubba? Want my face between your legs again? Or you want me inside you?”

“I’m ready for you to be inside me.” There was no hesitancy. Miles knew what he wanted. 

With another kiss, Rhett said, “alright. Lemme just grab the lube.” The bottle had rolled toward the edge of the bed, and he rescued it from falling to its death over the edge, before moving to kneel against the bed so he could ready both himself and Miles. 

Rhett took extra care to warm the lube between his fingers before he brought them down to prep Miles. His work roughened palms were gentle as he parted Miles’ legs, hunger in his eyes as he admired that pink little hole. 

Carefully, deliberately, Rhett smoothed his slick fingers where Miles needed him most, touch teasing and light as he circled his entrance. Any other time, Rhett might have drawn things out and made Miles beg for it. But after going without for so long, that just seemed downright cruel. Especially when Miles batted his pretty lashes at Rhett, bottom lip quivering from the force of his neediness. 

Rhett ducked forward, capturing those sweet lips in a kiss as he eased two fingers inside Miles, drinking down his broken whimper like it was some sort of heavenly nectar. 

He was so pretty like this. Already fucked out. In this lust-addled state, Miles’ inhibitions essentially went out the window. He was more vocal. Unashamed of his own desperation. 

As Rhett’s fingers stretched him, Miles sank deeper and deeper into that blissful state, eyes going unfocused, mouth open to let out those precious squeaks that Rhett adored so much. 

Miles trembled against the plushness of the mattress, blindly searching for one of Rhett’s hands to hold. In the haze of his own pleasure, Miles thought briefly that it was slightly pathetic just how needy and responsive he was. But he couldn’t help it, could he? His body was reacting of its own violation. His brain was just along for the ride.

Through the haze, he heard Rhett’s voice. A low rumble in his chest. Murmured words of praise. “Look at that. Pretty li’l ass opened right up for my fingers. Like you were made to take me, huh?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah. Was made f’you,” Miles managed to slur, mouth loose around the syllables. Intoxicated, not off of any sort of substance, but off of pure, unbridled arousal.

Rhett spent a little more time readying the man beneath him, guiding his fingers deeper. He splayed his hand against Miles’ lower abdomen, touch warm and grounding. Wordlessly encouraging him to relax. 

And relax, he did. His legs parted further, his body sank into the comfort of the quilt beneath him. The very quilt he had sewn together with his own hands, made from various patches of fabric, many of which held sentimental value. Including pieces of Rhett’s favorite childhood blanket. 

The quilt was a wedding gift Miles had presented to Rhett the night they got married. And now, it provided a source of grounding comfort as Miles melted into it. 

Safe. Protected. Enveloped in his husband’s warmth. 

“I’m ready.” Miles surprised even himself with how quickly and decisively he said it. He needed Rhett inside him. The thought of waiting another minute was unbearable. “Please, sir. Can’t wait any longer.”

That did it. Rhett’s lashes fluttered, mouth parting as his cheeks went ruddy with warmth. “Yeah? Poor baby. Gonna give you what you need.” He brought his hand up to cup Miles’ scarred cheek, thumb swiping over his lips. Miles took the digit greedily, mouth wrapping around it, relishing in its weight against his tongue. 

When his gaze flickered up to meet Rhett’s, the cowboy’s breath caught in his throat, dick twitching between his thighs. At that point it was just cruel to make Miles wait any longer. 

Rhett eased his fingers out of the man beneath him, swallowing his soft whimper with a kiss, before he reached over to take hold of the bottle of lube once again. 

He used a generous amount, not wanting to take any chance of possibly hurting Miles. Once Rhett was certain he’d used enough lube, he finally situated himself between Miles’ parted thighs, taking a moment to admire how pretty he was like this. Pliant and needy, eager for whatever Rhett was going to give him. 

Next came what was one of Rhett’s favorite moments whenever he made love to his husband. It was the sight of that sweet, handsome face crumpling into a mask of utter bliss as he eased his hips forward. 

The head of his cock only just breached Miles’ entrance, and already, his eyes were rolling back, mouth falling open, chest heaving as he took in a trembling breath. 

Rhett carefully pushed Miles’ thighs further apart, knees up near his chest. Holding him like that, he continued to ease forward, inch by inch, gauging Miles’ face for any signs of discomfort. But there were none. 

In fact, Miles began to softly plead, “more, more, more.”

So Rhett gave it to him. He pressed his hips down until Miles had taken all that he could. And then, in a breathless whimper, he sighed out, “thank youuu.”

Rhett’s head was spinning as he stared down in awe at the man he loved. So perfect and pliant, so utterly devoted. In this moment, trembling with desire, Rhett knew Miles would do anything he asked. Anything at all. 

But Rhett had never, and would never, abuse that sacred trust. In his most vulnerable state, Miles could give himself over to his husband, and know that he would take care of him in every way he needed. 

“There ya go. That’s what you needed, huh darlin’?”

Miles’ bottom lip quivered as he nodded. “Yes, yes, it’s everythin’ I needed!”

Rhett surged forth, elbows resting on the mattress, at either side of Miles’ head, caging him in. Instinctively, Miles wrapped his legs around the narrow plane of Rhett’s waist, pulling him even closer. Chest to chest, hearts beating as one. 

“S’alright if I move, or do you need a minute?” 

With a nod of his head, Miles replied, “you can move.”

He couldn’t describe it with mere words, but the feeling of being connected like this, in the most intimate way possible, brought a sense of all consuming peace upon Miles. It was more than just physical. The connection was emotional, he might even go as far as to say it was spiritual. 

Sex wasn’t simply a means to an end. A way to get off, to let off some steam. It was special, sweet, intimate. Even when they were participating in kink scenes, there was always a level of tenderness and care just beneath the surface. A reminder that they had each other. That, together, they were safe and loved. 

“Missed this so much,” Rhett gasped, voice strained as he eased his hips back, only to thrust forward once again. “Can’t believe I went a whole month without you.” Another thrust. 

Too overcome to speak, Miles tilted his head, searching for Rhett’s lips. As they kissed, they swallowed one another’s sounds of pleasure, as if they could consume each other’s souls this way, two becoming one. 

Chest to chest, hip to hip, there was no way to tell where one began and the other ended. And that was how they preferred it. Wrapped around each other wholly and completely. 

Before Miles, Rhett’s relationship with sex was hurried, impersonal fucks that left him unfulfilled. He’d always said he wasn’t the type to settle down, but that was a bold faced lie that he told himself, because he truly believed he would never meet anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him. 

How wrong he’d been. Now he had a sweet husband who went weak in the knees at the mere concept of him sporting a beard. Life was good. 

Beneath him, Miles lost himself to the warm press of Rhett’s body against his own. The feeling of that gorgeous beard against his cheek, the side of his neck, the column of his throat. Rhett had essentially turned into an affectionate cat, rubbing his face all over the whining, moaning, quivering man beneath him. 

Miles welcomed it, relishing in the contact, the closeness. The sensations rippling through him were increasing, the heat of pleasure growing tenfold. All he knew was the feeling of Rhett’s cock within him, thick and unrelenting. And then, with just the right angle of his hips, he nudged into that spot that sent Miles trembling against the bed like a live wire. 

“Oh!” He yelped, one hand gripping at the sheets, the other thrown around Rhett’s shoulders as he searched for something to ground himself. 

Rhett grunted, hips stuttering, though his pace didn’t slow. “Yeah, that’s your spot, ain’t it bubba?” He gave Miles a moment to adjust to the sensation, and he could feel the way his cock twitched between them, wet and shiny, leaking steadily with each thrust. 

And it seemed to send forth even more slick as the head of Rhett’s cock bullied against that sensitive little button. If there was one thing that always turned Rhett on to no end, it was how wet Miles got. 

Rhett couldn’t resist bringing his hand between their joined bodies, fist closing around that fevered cock that smeared against the skin of their lower abdomens. At the added stimulation, Miles wailed softly, drunk from the pleasure, already in a daze. 

“Can ya talk to me, sweetie? Tell me what you’re feelin’?” Rhett cooed, strained as it was. 

“I-I-I…” Miles’ mouth started working before his brain could catch up, a response at being given a gentle command from the man above him. It took him a moment to gather enough wits to speak. “Fuh–feels…oh! Feels in-incredible, sir! Not gonna last!”

Rhett was impressed Miles was even able to get a coherent word out. “Yeah? You close already?” For emphasis, he swirled his thumb around the blushing tip of Miles’ cock, drawing a broken gasp out of him at the contact.

“Yes! Yes!”

Offering another deep, deliberate thrust, Rhett ducked forward, mouth hovering over Miles’. “Hold it f’me, just a little bit longer, alright?”

A tearful nod was all the confirmation he needed. So Rhett slowed things way down, drawing his hips back and carefully, steadily driving them forward again. Not hurried, not rough. Just a deep, prolonged connection. 

When Miles pawed at Rhett, gripping his shoulders for purchase, Rhett took the initiative to wrap his husband in his arms. With practiced ease, he guided Miles into his chest, maneuvering them both until Rhett was on his knees on the bed, and Miles was in his lap.

There, they moved in tandem. Instinctively, Miles rolled his hips against Rhett’s with each thrust he made beneath him. A rhythm was developed, a steady push and pull that had them gasping and moaning into one another’s mouths.

Their bodies were attuned to one another, a certain flow to their movements that spoke of their connection to one another. Miles might describe that connection as spiritual, in a way. Rhett, a man of fewer words, didn’t know how to describe it. All he knew was that he loved the man in his arms more than words could say. 

He held Miles a little tighter, a little closer. Sharing in one another’s warmth. Sweat dampened their bodies, skin slick against skin as their desperation mounted, growing more overwhelming still. 

Miles found himself seeking out Rhett’s mouth, but he could hardly find his faculties to initiate a kiss, his mind was too far gone, enveloped in a safe, warm blanket of bliss. Mouth hot and wet against Rhett’s, Miles whimpered, “love you, love you, love you.”

Bodies pressed tightly against one another, with each shift of his hips, Miles’ cock was pressed between the plane of his own abdomen, and Rhett’s. The combination of lube and sweat provided a deliciously wet friction. That, along with the steady push and pull of Rhett inside him was enough to send Miles’ brain into overdrive.

What followed wasn’t necessarily a black out, it was more so an all-encompassing rush of molten pleasure, sparking through his veins like firecrackers. The sounds that left his mouth were pathetic and unrestrained, loud whimpers and squeals with each thrust of Rhett’s cock. Miles had lost all sense of decorum, and he was too far gone to even care.

As he held his blissed out husband, Rhett basked in those pretty little sounds, and he knew, by the way Miles trembled, like a leaf in the wind, that he was close. 

So he decided to help him along. He knew exactly what to say to send his sweetheart over the edge.

Grinding deep inside him, Rhett murmured lowly against the shell of Miles’ ear, “you’re gonna squirt for me, ain’t you, bubba?”

Miles whimpered, mouth open, eyes watering. He tried to answer, tried to say yes, yes, yes, but all that came out was an incoherent warble. 

Rhett’s strong, but gentle, hand came up to cup Miles’ blushing cheek. He kissed him, open-mouthed, tongues sliding over each other. And then he pulled back to speak again, “let go, I’ve got ya.”

So Miles let himself fall, because he knew Rhett was there to catch him. It all came to its peak when that delicious, sizzling pleasure engulfed him, sparks igniting at the base of his spine, the constant nudge of Rhett’s cock against that sensitive spot within him sent Miles plummeting.

He cried out against Rhett’s mouth, jolting in his arms like a live wire as it overtook him. Everything that had been pent up in the time they had been apart was now released. A steady, viscous torrent that spilled from Miles, hot and pulsing, soaking himself and Rhett in the process. 

He could hear the breathless murmur of Rhett’s voice, talking him through it, but the rush of blood pounding in his ears made it impossible to make out a single word. 

“That’s it,” Rhett was saying, words strained as he fought against his own mounting pleasure. “Let it all out.” What a sight to behold, as Miles fell apart. He was gorgeous. Perfect. Ethereal. A heavenly being sent from above.

Rhett cradled him close, hips still rolling upward, even as that tight ring of muscle spasmed around him, sending him dangerously close to the edge. He would hold Miles through his first, and only then would Rhett let himself cum. 

But for Miles, it seemingly had no end. Tears sprang to his eyes, spilling down the warmth of his flushed cheeks, meeting at the apex of his chin. And Rhett leaned back to lick those tears away, cooing at his beloved as he wept. 

“Ca-can’t stop!” Miles squeaked, “th- ah! - there’s so much!”

“Shh, s’alright,” came Rhett’s groan. He allowed himself a glance between their joined bodies, eyes hazy and heavy-lidded as he took in the sight of the mess. “Good boy. Such a good boy.”

Finally, finally, Miles slumped forward, still shivering with the aftershocks as the intensity began to ebb. Whimpering, gasping, he babbled repeatedly, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I’m right there, bub,” Rhett gritted, muscular thighs trembling beneath Miles. “Can ya take a little more?”

Barely able to form a reply, Miles managed a “mhm!”

So Rhett’s large, warm hands came down to grip Miles’ hips, holding him in place as he rocked his own upward. Several deliberate strokes soon brought Rhett to his own end, and he all but crushed Miles to his chest as he let go.

Nose buried into the softness of Miles’ hair, Rhett breathed in as his orgasm washed over him. Deep inside his husband, his release spilled forth, marking him, claiming him. A primal act that only heightened Rhett’s pleasure, and reignited Miles’. 

Miles couldn’t help the broken moan that tore itself from the depths of his throat as that sinful, slick warmth filled him to the brim. There was something so primal about it. His heart skipped a beat at the feeling. 

Chest heaving, pulse thundering, Rhett slowly came down, still twitching inside Miles. A blanket of calming quiet settled over the two, save for their labored breathing. They needed a moment to gather themselves, to enjoy the closeness before it was time to part. 

Rhett tightened his arms around Miles, nuzzling the side of his neck. It was then that Miles began to giggle, a soft, musical sound that made Rhett laugh. 

“Whatcha laughin’ at?”

“Your beard tickles.”

That brought a grin to Rhett’s face. “Yeah?”

Too late, Miles realized his error. “Wait!”

But Rhett had already buried his face into Miles’ neck again, purposely rubbing his beard into the sensitive skin until Miles was laughing openly, shoving at Rhett’s chest. However, the full body tremor that ran through Miles as he laughed was instant, unintentional payback for Rhett teasing him with the beard, because the movement caused him to clench around Rhett’s softening, sensitive cock.

He hissed softly, shuddering at the feeling.

“Sorry, sorry,” Miles apologized, trying to still his laughter.

Rhett shook his head, eyes glimmering with amusement. “S’alright, I’m the one who got you all giggly.” He lovingly bumped noses with Miles. When their lips met, it wasn’t hungry or desperate. Instead, it was tender, sweet, gentle. 

When they parted, Miles seemed to finally register the aftermath of their passion. He glanced down, lashes fluttering as he took in the sight of his pearlescent release, sticky against his abdomen. “Made a mess.”

“Yeah you did,” Rhett said with a knowing smile. “Guess we need another shower, huh?”

“I’ll say.”

Although they both wished to linger a little longer, Rhett knew that Miles hated the feeling of cum drying on his skin, and he wanted to prioritize his comfort by getting him cleaned up first before they did anything else.

“Want your plug back in?” Rhett asked.

Cheeks warming, Miles nodded. “Please.”

What followed was careful maneuvering as Rhett lowered Miles onto the bed, kissing him sweetly to swallow his whine as he eased his cock out. Rhett moved quickly, quick to locate the previously discarded plug. Retrieving a pack of wet wipes from the bedside table, he wiped the plug clean, and then returned to ease it back inside Miles. 

It slid inside with ease, and the moment it was in place, Miles let out a soft sigh of relief. Then, Rhett hovered over him, moving to kiss his nose before he said, “let’s go rinse off, okay bubba?”

They found themselves in the shower once again, and this time, it was Rhett who reverently washed his husband. Few words were spoken as they engaged in aftercare. There was no urgency, no hurriedness. Just the two of them relishing in the intimacy of being together. All was right with the world now that they were reunited, here in their cozy little home. 

Once they were finished rinsing off, they were quick to change into pajamas. Rhett into a pair of lounge pants, sans shirt, and Miles into one of Rhett’s ratty old rodeo t-shirts and a pair of boxer shorts. 

Sleepy eyed, they made their way downstairs, where Miles dished up bowls of slowly simmered stew. They enjoyed their meal at the kitchen table they had built together when they were newly married. 

Matilda the cat decided to curl up on Rhett’s lap as he ate. 

“Look at her. She missed Daddy so much,” Miles pointed out in amusement, leaning back in his chair, stew long since finished as.

Rhett hummed, lovingly scratching her little velveteen head. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he said, “not as much as you missed Daddy though, huh?”

Miles rolled his eyes playfully, leaning toward Rhett. “Oh, I definitely missed you more than she did, Daddy.” Throwing the name right back in Rhett’s face seemed to spark a fresh wave of desire through him, and with a smirk, he reached out to tug Miles closer, but he was too quick for the cowboy, darting just out of reach. 

“Get back here!”

“Can’t catch me, you’ll disturb Matilda’s nap.”

“You evil li’l thang.”

A triumphant smile warmed Miles’ face as he waltzed over to the kitchen window to retrieve the apple pie. “Will you accept pie as a peace offering?”

Rhett relented, leaning back against his chair. “Maybe.”

“With a nice big scoop of vanilla ice cream?”

“Fine.”

That was exactly what Rhett got. A generous slice of pie with a hefty scoop of vanilla bean-flecked ice cream. A comforting warmth spread through Rhett’s chest as he took the first bite. Sweet, cinnamon-y goodness, balanced by the slight tartness of the perfectly cooked apples. 

“Fuck me, this is incredible as usual, bub,” he murmured around a mouthful of pie. 

Miles beamed over his own slice of pie. He found great joy in watching Rhett enjoy the food he made. “Glad you like it.”

With fondness softening his features, Rhett leaned forward, hand coming up to rest over Miles’ own. “You take such good care of me. S’good to be home with you, where I belong.”

Miles turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with Rhett’s. “You better not leave again, you hear me, cowboy?”

Rhett grinned, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Don’t think I could stand another month without ya.”

A serious look settled onto Miles’ face. “In all seriousness, I love how hard you work to make sure our little family is taken care of. Always know I can depend on you.”

Rhett’s eyes glimmered, heart growing warm in his chest. “Lookin’ out for you is important to me.”

“I know. And I love you for it.” Leaning across the table, Miles kissed Rhett sweetly, hand lifting to run his fingers through that beard. “By the way, you better keep this gorgeous beard.”

A grin spread across Rhett’s face. “Anythin’ for you, bubba.”

-

tagging those who interacted with the post i made about this:

@aratheegreat @fairyheart @hi-res-tm @live-love-be-unique @abbottsdarling

@rhettled @lalalunascope @peachystenbrough @lostglassguitars @spencers-stardust

@em1i2a3 @mywinterivy @good-vibes-and-glitter @lookitsgrim @monkeydoll5

@abbotslamb @fanboyswhore9 @lilmisslexapro @fandomxo @fridamoss

Rhett sighed, cupping his cheek in one hand, caressing his face with his thumb as he shook his head. They’ve had this conversation once before, how could they not with how obsessed they are with one another and with how many sleepless nights they’ve spent together. But they’ve never crossed that line.

Hand jobs in the shower were common for them, dry humping each other every morning was practically part of their get ready ritual at this point, but even blow jobs were difficult for the hotel clerk. Miles would only be able take the tip of Rhett’s cock in his mouth before his jaw started to hurt and he was gagging and choking on it. Rhett could only imagine what it would do to his sweet little ass he loved to eat nearly every night he visited, “Not yet Miles. M’ too big, don’t want to break ya’.”

Miles pouted, completely dissatisfied, “You’re not going to break me. Just because I’m smaller doesn’t mean I can’t take it.”

Rhett chuckled, his face softening the longer he looked at his boyfriend. He’s been dating the other man for a while, and while they’ve spent countless days together, sharing late night phone calls whenever Rhett wasn’t staying at the El Royale and Miles couldn’t crawl into bed with him, flirting every time Rhett comes in to check into for his stay, going out on dates, making out in the back of Rhett’s truck like they were no better than a couple of horny teenagers.

Rhett sighed before smiling, “How about this,” Miles tried to hide his giggle as Rhett nosed along his ear, “We’ll practice on toys, work your way up to a decent size until I think your ready and then… I’ll fuck ya all ya like. Make love to ya, baby. How’s that sound?”

Miles ecstatically captured him into another kiss as he accepted his proposal. And that’s how it all started. Every time Rhett came down, he checked that Miles has been wearing the plug he’s got him, stretching himself open every day so he’d be ready for when he could finally be speared on Rhett's enormously large cock. Whenever the cowboy wasn’t at the El Royale, they talked all night instead, until the hotel clerk inevitably fell asleep on the other line. And when they talked, it was hardly ever innocent.

It always started off that way, checking on one another, catching up on their day, before Rhett asks him how the plug feels. Despite being across state lines, they could feel the shift in energy immediately. Their dicks twitching almost simultaneously, hands starting to shake as they touched themselves, always imagining it was the other whose hand was on them and not their own.

Every night ended with Miles cumming on his stomach as Rhett groaned in his ear, instructing him how to fuck the plug in him or telling him to ride on the dildos he gifted him for these exact moments.

It’s been a month since they had that conversation and three days since Miles had last seen Rhett, and he still had three more to go before he could see him again. And now Miles was in a position he found himself in almost every night, curled up in his cot, absentmindedly playing with the sleeve of his oversized cardigan as his boyfriend’s voice rang through his ear, “How are you darlin’? Work wasn’t too rough ya today, was it?”

 “It was fine, just the same old same old. Had one reservation, a nice couple staying for the night.” Rhett hummed. Miles couldn’t see it, but he knew he was nodding.

Mile bit his lip, feeling particularly lonely this cold winter night, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too darlin’, more than you know.”

Something caught Miles’s ear in the background, it almost sounded like a horn was being blown, followed by a bit of chatter and then almost like a shift in how close Rhett sounded to the phone before it sounded normal again. Miles was perplexed, they usually spoke when Rhett was already home in bed, not out and about.

“What are you going? I hear something in the background. Are you driving?”

“Nah baby, S’nothin’. I just got home a bit ago. M’ in bed like always.”

Miles wasn’t entirely convinced but shrugged it off. That’s when the tone of the conversation shifts. What started as a simple catch up before bed, was about to turn into a night full of heavy breathing and quiet whimpers as Rhett spoke into his lovers ear.

“Have you been using the toys? Practicing like I said?”

Miles blushed, his face on fire as he nodded, “Y-Yeah.”

Miles hears Rhett shift over the phone, “Can you do something for me sweet boy?”

Miles nodded and then shook his head, remembering Rhett couldn’t see him, “Anything.”

“Touch yourself for me, darlin’.”

Miles’s breath hitched, “O-ok.” Miles could hear Rhett grunt as he spat on his palm and slide his hand into his pajama pants; his cock already half chubbed. All it took was the sound of Rhett’s commanding voice to get Miles so aroused.

 “You hard baby?”

“Hmm, uh-huh.” Miles was already trembling, Rhett grunted out his name at how delectable he sounded.

“Imagine it’s me touching you, making you feel good.”

Miles whined, his cock already leaking precum from the couple of strokes and pumps he gave himself.

“Alright now, I wan’ you fuck yourself with the plug you’re wearing. Wan’ you to start out nice and slow fo’ me, okay? And don’t stop toughing your cock, ya got that?”

Gasping out a meager ‘yes’, Miles moved his hand behind him and slowly started moving the plug in and out of him. It was the biggest he’s worn so far, and he hoped it’d be the last one he’d have to wear until he could finally know the feeling of Rhett splitting him open on his cock. It was all he wanted; all he craved at this point.

“Rhett, Rhett, Rhett.” Miles chanted, his voice broke as he imagined that it was his boyfriend fucking him instead. Miles couldn’t see his hole right now, but he knows it must’ve been stretched wide from how Rhett couldn’t stop admiring it when he snuggly fit it inside him a couple days ago.  

The sound of heavy breathing filled the tiny little room Miles called his home with strangled moans and whimper mixed in between. The phone was cold against his warm cheek, despite the fact most of his blood had rushed to his nether regions, Miles felt heat overwhelm his body as the voice of his boyfriend flooded his ears.

“Rhett,” he whines, “Wish you were here. Wish it was you fuckin’ me.”

“Fuck Miles, you’re so good. Bet ya’ drooling right now aint ya? Can’t wait fo’ me to take that cute little ass of yours and pound it into the mattress. Ya’ won’t be able to walk for a week when I’m done with ya’.”

Miles’s breath hitched, he can feel the heat coiling in his belly, release on the tip of his tongue. Miles is so far gone he doesn’t hear the change in sound on the phone near his ear, how Rhett’s stopped moaning, the light hum in the background ceasing. And then when he hears it.

The ding of the lobby bell.

Time stops.

All the color drained from Miles’s face, his ears starting to ring as he realizes what that means. Shit, how long has the guest been here? Did they hear Miles’s moaning and whining? Oh god, this is mortifying.

“Miles, bub -”

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Miles fumbled his way out of his cot, frantically pressing end call before his phone fell to the side of his bed, phone sex session now long gone as he struggled to pull his pants up and at least look semi-presentable.

He felt bad. He’ll need to apologize to Rhett for just ending the call like he did. Rhett’s probably worried, seeing as the last thing he heard from Miles was him gasping and muttering shit, shit, shit in a very panicked voice.

Miles opened the room door just as he threw his signature work blazer on, after he subtly adjusted his cock that was still painfully strained in his pants, but instead of being greeted with the lobby, he was greeted with a broad chest he slammed straight into.

“Oh! I’m sorry -” Miles glanced up, spluttering with his words when he recognized who was in front of him, “S-Sir – w-what? Rhett?”

Rhett pushed his boyfriend back into the room, smirking as he shut the door behind him, “Who else?”

“Wha – I How – I thought you said you were going home? And -” realization dawned on his as he lightly smacked his shoulders, “Wait… Were you dirty talking to me while you were driving?! Rhett!”

That smug smirk was the only answer Miles needed. “Wanted to surprise ya. Were ya surprised?”

Instead of answering, Miles kissed him, only breaking apart to tell him, “I’ll let you off with lying this once cowboy. Never do that again, you know how dangerous that could be.”

Rhett raised his arms in surrender, but that smirk didn’t leave his face. He loved how cute his boyfriend got when he fussed like this. “Alrigh’, alrigh’. Promise won’t do it again. And I didn’t lie; home is wherever you are darlin’.”

Miles melted right then and there. God he couldn’t wait until he could finally leave this place and be with his lover forever.

Rhett’s hand snaked down from Miles hips as he cupped his ass. He silenced Miles’s whimper with his lips as his palm pressed against the plug that was still inside him, pushing it further in. Miles nearly crumpled in his hold, “You didn’t cum yet, right?”

“Nu-uh.” Dazed and starry-eyed, it was all Miles could get out.

“Good.” Without breaking their kiss, Rhett swiftly pulled the other man towards the bed. Their movements hurried, frantic as they undressed until they were in their naked glory and then slipped the plug out of him.

Miles whimpered against him, eyes already starting to water in anticipation. They both knew where this was going, but he needed to hear him say it “Why?”

Rhett groaned into his ear. Miles just sounded so delicious, so innocent, and ready to be fucked into the mattress all night, “Because I’m about to fulfill a promise and make you cum on my cock tonight.”

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“Oh, quit your whinin’,” the cowboy muttered. “I’ve half a mind to shove a gag in your mouth.”

Big, wet eyes went impossibly wider, bottom lip quivering. “Please don’t gag me.”

A heavy palm slapped lightly against his bare thigh. “Then you’d better be a good boy, y’hear?”

From across the room, a pair of eyes watched the two men. You, sprawled out so prettily on the bed, dressed only in one of Rhett’s threadbare t-shirts. You’d been watching the spectacle unfold, enthralled at the sight of the gruff cowboy arranging Miles into a chair. 

It was one of those very rare instances in which Miles was being punished. Always so sweet, obedient, and pliant, punishing him was nearly unheard of. He craved approval, and thrived off of praise. But every once in a while, he would get himself in trouble. 

This instance was a case of impatience. 

Rhett had specifically told Miles to wait. You and Rhett were gone, picking up some things for the homestead. Before you’d left, Rhett had pressed a lingering, sensual kiss to Miles’ lips, and told him, “be a good boy while we’re gone, alright? We’ll have some fun when we get back.”

“O-okay,” Miles had responded, breathless and a little dizzy from the kiss. 

But you were gone longer than anticipated, and poor Miles was feeling so needy that day. He knew Rhett meant that he wasn’t allowed to touch himself while the two of you were gone. And normally, he was always so good at following the rules.

Today, though, he just couldn’t help himself. Try as he might, he just could not distract himself from the desperation roiling deep within. He did all the things he could think of. Gathering the eggs from the chickens, harvesting any ripened vegetables from the garden, scrubbing said vegetables in the kitchen sink, folding laundry, sweeping the floors, shaking out the rugs. 

None of it could take his mind off of you and Rhett, and how he couldn’t wait to be sandwiched between you both when you got home later that day. The two of you were Miles’ biggest weakness, he could never resist you.

It didn’t help that the night before, Rhett had fucked him within an inch of his life. He could still feel him in the twinge of soreness deep inside himself, and the way his thighs still quivered when he walked. He was so sensitive that even the slight friction of his boxers and sweatpants was too much, and he found himself achingly hard in no time, unable to will it away.

He knew what Rhett had said. “Be a good boy.”

There was nothing more that Miles wanted than to be your good boy. But his desire was clouding his ability for rational thought. Surely it wouldn’t hurt if he provided himself with some relief, right? You and Rhett didn’t need to know. It could be Miles’ own secret.

He wrestled with it for a while, but soon lost the battle of self-control, closing himself into the bathroom.

It was quick. Filthy. Salacious. Eyes closed, he imagined you on your knees, suckling at his cock, telling him how good it tasted. In this imagining, Rhett was behind him, buried deep inside him, growling and grunting in his ear, each thrust driving Miles forward, sending his cock sliding all the way down your throat. 

To his shame, he came in minutes, soaking his hand, and the fabric of his sweatpants, with his cum. As the pleasure induced haze faded from his brain, his shoulders sagged, guilt settling in. But he was afforded no time to wallow in it, for suddenly, he heard the sound of a truck coming down the driveway. 

He gasped, heart seizing in his chest. In a mad dash, he scrambled out of his pants and underwear, rushing into the bedroom, shoving them into the laundry basket. He was the one who normally did laundry, so his evidence would remain undiscovered by you and Rhett. Or so he thought. 

By the time the two of you came inside the house, Miles was just rushing down the steps, clad in a new pair of sweatpants, hoping neither of you would notice his change of clothes. 

And as you both greeted him, Rhett kissing his cheek, you kissing the other, it seemed that you were none the wiser. 

Until Rhett went upstairs to change. 

You and Miles remained in the kitchen, sorting through the various seed packets you had brought home, deciding which ones you would plant in next year’s garden. Miles allowed himself to relax, his naughty crime nearly forgotten as he discussed gardening with you.

And then, the sound of Rhett’s heavy footfalls echoed through the cottage, wood creaking under his weight. He stopped in the kitchen doorway, and when Miles lifted his head, all the color drained from his face.

Rhett’s eyes were narrowed in suspicion, and at the end of his finger hung a pair of cum stained boxers. “I was just steppin’ into the bathroom to take a piss, and lo and behold, I found these on the floor,” he spoke, tone teasing.

Beside Miles, you looked up, eyes widening at the sight of what he held in his hand. “Oh? I wonder whose those could be?” You asked, knowing full well that they were Miles’.

Guilt riddled Miles’ features, a crimson blush warming his cheeks. He realized that, in his haste, he must have dropped the boxers on the bathroom floor. “I…” His mouth opened and closed dumbly. 

“You what?” Rhett countered, stepping across the room, brow raised, jaw tensed. Then he knelt in front of Miles, holding the pair of boxers up so he could look at them more closely. “Tell me what you did. I wan’ hear you admit it.”

You watched with rapt interest as the scene unfolded. Miles was withering under Rhett’s harsh stare, melting into a puddle of shame. “I-I…I touched myself while you were gone.”

Rhett ran his tongue over his teeth, breathing in deep to steady himself. The disappointment that flashed over his features was enough to bring Miles to tears, and before Rhett could even respond, he began babbling apologies. “I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have! You tol–told me to be a good boy and I disobeyed! I’m sorry! Please don’t be mad!” He sobbed. 

Still kneeling in front of Miles, Rhett glanced at you, sharing words unspoken. Slowly, you leaned forward, hand coming up to rest upon Miles’ shoulder. “Honey, we aren’t mad at you,” came your murmur of reassurance.

Rhett’s face softened slightly as he nodded in agreement. “We aren’t. But y’did break the rules. And you know that means we gotta punish you.”

Miles sniffled, bottom lip quivering as he nodded mournfully. “I know. You can do whatever you want to me. I deserve it.”

Humming lowly, Rhett looked at you again. “What do ya think, darlin’? How should we punish our boy?”

At that, you smiled, moving to nuzzle your face against Miles’ neck. “I think we should make him watch while you fuck me,” came your suggestion. 

A wicked grin stretched across Rhett’s face. “I like the sound of that.”

That was how Miles found himself bound to a chair, facing the California king-sized bed in your shared bedroom. Rhett had just finished tying Miles’ wrists to the arms of the chair. Deft fingers tugged at the rope. 

“That ain’t too tight, is it, bub?” He asked, displaying a moment of tenderness. 

Miles shook his head. “It’s not.”

He never worried that Rhett would make any sort of bondage too tight. Rhett was very careful, an expert at tying rope. Miles’ comfort was paramount to him. With a gentle kiss against the other  man’s temple, Rhett straightened, sauntering over to the bed, where you waited patiently.

“Don’t he look so pretty, all trussed up?” Rhett mused as he climbed onto the bed with you. 

You smiled, humming in delight. “So pretty.”

“Shame he has to sit there and watch, instead of joinin’ us,” Rhett continued. “But I guess dirty boys who can’t keep their hands off their own dick deserve it, huh?”

“Mhm,” you wholeheartedly agreed as you leaned in to kiss Rhett languidly, knowing it would drive Miles crazy. He loved kissing Rhett. Especially when there was day old stubble shadowing the cowboy’s jaw, like there was now. 

Just as you expected, Miles let out an audible whimper, a whine of desire. Seeing his lovers intertwined in a passionate embrace, when all he could do was watch, was torturous. But he deserved it, he knew he did. He’d been a bad, bad boy, after all.

Now he was forced to observe as you pulled Rhett on top of you, hands gripping his broad shoulders, hips rolling up into his. 

“Shit," Rhett cursed gruffly, mouth hot and open against yours, cock twitching to life beneath his underwear. 

His lips found your jaw, trailing down across the side of your neck, working their way to your collarbone. His teeth nipped at the skin there, sending a familiar flash of molten heat blooming in your belly. 

You can’t help but let yout gaze flicker over to Miles, who is staring at you with big, wet eyes, bottom lip quivering, his own cock impossibly hard beneath the fabric of his boxers. Rhett had stripped him down before he put him in the chair, leaving him in only his underwear, which he was sure to soak through with precum very soon.

"Look at ‘im,” Rhett murmured against your neck, faux sympathy bleeding into his tone. “Poor thing’s so hard already, just from watchin us.” 

“I know he’s so jealous that I get to kiss you as much as I want,” you teased, tilting your head to capture Rhett’s mouth.

It could hardly be described as a kiss. At least not the romantic, delicate kind. It was sloppy, rushed, a collision of mouths, tongue and teeth and drool.

And there was Miles, panting like a puppy as he watched, hips rolling, humping the air. But he didn’t dare beg for you to untie him, despite how badly he wanted to. 

Rhett was struck with a positively delicious idea when, and as he broke your salacious kiss, he tugged your underwear down your legs, tossing them at Miles. The delicate fabric landed right in his lap, and he gasped brokenly. 

Grinning, Rhett nipped at your jaw. “Y’alright there, bud?” He asked.

“Uh-huh,” Miles grunted, crimson blush rushing up his chest and neck. 

You turned your head, holding eye contact with the bound man as Rhett’s big, warm hands slid beneath your shirt, wandering higher and higher until his fingers were tugging at your pebbling nipples, pulling a broken whine from your throat.

The feeling of someone else’s eyes on you while Rhett teased you only heightened your pleasure, sending it thrumming hotly between your thighs. Mouth against the shell of your ear, Rhett spoke again, the velvet of his voice swirling through your head. “Should I make him watch me eat your pretty pussy?”

At that, an audible, broken whine tore itself from Miles’ throat. Having his face buried between your thighs was his favorite thing. Sucking on your clit soothed his oral fixation, and he adored the way you tasted, as well as the pleasure you derived from it. 

“I think you should,” you agreed.

Rhett licked into your mouth before he leaned back to tug your shirt off, tossing it somewhere unbeknownst, forgotten. When he began his descent of your body, it was slow, sensual, kissing every inch, until he finally settled where you needed him most, slick and aching. 

His tongue trailed a steady stripe through your delicate folds, swirling around your clit, and he moaned deeply, putting on a show for Miles. “Oh, tastes so good,” he sighed. “Wish you could taste this pretty li’l cunt, Miles. Too bad y’re a dirty fuckin’ boy who disobeyed me.”

An involuntary sob escaped from Miles’ parted mouth. “I-I’m sorry,” he moaned, hands clutching at the handles of the chair, knuckles going white.

The bite of Rhett’s stubble made you shiver as he dove in once again, mouth hot and eager, licking into you, sucking on your clit, doing what he could to provide you with the most pleasure that he could.

There was no shame in the sounds he let out, unabashed groans as he tasted you, knowing poor Miles was losing his mind over the fact that he couldn’t participate. And when Rhett began to roll his hips against the mattress, Miles matched his movements, jolting in time with the slow, steady drag of his boyfriend’s cock against the sheets.

It was torturous. Miles was very much regretting his own misbehavior now, and yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene playing out in front of him, wildly turned on at the sight of your body writhing beneath Rhett’s.

“Gotta have you now,” Rhett grumbled as he pulled away from your puffy cunt, the slick of your arousal glimmering on his mouth and chin. With one last kiss against your pretty folds, he moved to hover over you once again, eyes heavy lidded.

Eagerly, you reached down to tug his underwear off, and his cock, impossibly hard, bobbed free, heavy and thick, and the sound that Miles let out was pathetic and loud, a strangled whine, mouth parted, drool pooling at the corner. 

Rhett’s mouth curved into a knowing smirk. “Poor thing.” He gripped his cock. “This what you’re wantin’?”

“Yeah,” Miles gasped, eyes unfocused, mouth parted. Already so far gone. 

“Maybe I’ll give it to ya in a little bit. We’ll see.” Then Rhett turned his attention back to you, waiting so patiently beneath him, thighs parted to reveal that soft wetness that he would soon be sheathed inside. 

“Christ, darlin’, you’re so wet. Barely e’en need to use lube,” he remarked, voice a low rasp as he reached over to the nightstand to retrieve the bottle of lube kept there. 

Of course you were soaked. The eroticism of Miles watching from across the room had only intensified your arousal. Even so, Rhett was quick to drizzle some of the lubricant onto his fingers, warming it before he smoothed it against your opening, using the rest to slick over his dick. 

“Look at him,” Rhett coaxed, “want you to hold eye contact with him when I slide it in.” 

So you did, turning your head, catching Miles’ wide, watery gaze. He looked pathetic. Tears were threatening to spill down his cheeks. It was a delicious sight. 

You felt it then. The tip of Rhett’s cock caught against your entrance as he purposely slid through your folds, relishing in the soft squelch that came from the slight friction. With ease, he tilted his pelvis, and slid inside you fully. 

What had kept him on the backs of countless angry bulls was equally talented at the depraved act of fucking you senseless. 

At the feeling of fullness, you threw your head back, mouth falling open. The stretch was delicious, overwhelming, and it stole the breath from your very lungs. Rhett grinned wolfishly, stealing a glance at Miles. 

“See how she’s just a’shakin’ on the end of my dick, baby? I know you wish you were in her place, huh? Wish I was inside your cute li’l ass instead.”

Tears had begun to track down Miles’ cheeks. “Yes, I do!” He gasped. 

“Needy thing.” Rhett pulled back slightly, only to thrust back in, deeply, harshly, pulling a cry from your throat. “He’s so jealous, darlin’,” he turned his attention back to you, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Hell, I would be too. Your dick is incredible,” you breathed, already slightly fucked out, loopy from the pleasure you were experiencing.

A wave of heat spread through you as he pushed his hips forward again, fire roiling in your belly, pussy clenching around him. The stretch of his fat cock was almost too much, too big, too deep. Your eyes rolled back in your head, hands clutching helplessly at his broad shoulders.

Distantly, you could hear Miles crying openly, pitifully. The thin fabric of his boxers brushed against the sensitive head of his cock as he shifted his hips in time with Rhett’s thoughts, imagining that he was in your place, beneath the gruff cowboy, filled to the brim.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. “Pl-please! I’m sorry! I’ll be good, please just untie me!” Miles wailed.

At that, Rhett locked eyes with him, flashing him a grin. “Aw, you hear him beggin’, darlin’? Think I should untie him?” He asked.

Eyes heavy lidded and hazy, you hummed. “Let him watch for a little longer.”

Another deep thrust. “I like that idea.”

In frustration, Miles threw his head back. “Please!” 

But there was no utterance of the established color system the three of you used during intense scene. If he said the word “yellow”, Rhett would immediately untie him, inviting him into your play. It wasn’t a safe word, it was in place so the safe word didn’t have to be uttered. Yellow meant slow down, caution, so on and so forth.

But he hadn’t said it. And Rhett could see that, despite his pathetic begging, he was still very much enjoying this.

So Rhett continued, pushing into you hard enough, deep enough, to send you writhing, shivering against the bed, thick cock bullying into you with every movement. And then, angling his hips just so, he found it. 

The spot that made you cry out brokenly, jerking beneath him like a live wire, anatomy clenching around him. “Fuck! Rhett!”

“There it is,” Rhett muttered in amusement, “that’s your spot, ain’t it, girl?” Again and again, he moved, brushing consistently against that gathering of sensitive nerves inside you.

If he would have spared a glance at Miles, he would’ve seen the other man losing himself. Tears falling freely, hands clutching the arms of the chair, hips undulating. And Rhett might have also realized that Miles was losing himself. 

“Ah! I can’t–I’m gonna–oh!” Miles wailed, and within seconds, he was coming, completely untouched, soaking yet another pair of boxers through. 

Rhett gasped sharply, head snapping toward Miles. “Holy shit.” Rhett tilted your head so you were also watching the spectacle. “Look at him, darlin’. He’s comin’ all over himself.”

Your mouth fell open, blood rushing in your ears, heat creeping along your skin, as you took in the sight of him trembling in the chair, a very obvious wet spot on the front of his boxers. “Oh my god,” came your breathless, broken whisper, as you shivered beneath Rhett.

Everything came to a screeching halt when Miles grew inconsolable.

“Oh! Oh, I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Chest heaving, he tugged at his restraints, panic beginning to creep into his features.

Rhett knew where this was heading, it was clear in Miles’ body language. When he began to spiral, it was difficult to draw him back. Rhett had to act quickly. “Let me just take care of him,” he murmured to you, leaving a gentle kiss to your mouth before he eased out of you. 

Legs swinging over the side of the bed, Rhett rose to stand, quick to cross the room. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, bub,” he spoke, reaching out, placing a steady, reassuring hand against Miles’ chest, over his thrumming heart. “You’re not in trouble. It was an accident.”

He knelt so that he was fully in his boyfriend’s line of sight. “Look at me. I’m right here. Gonna untie you real quick, okay?”

Tearfully, Miles nodded, watching as Rhett made quick work of untying each bind. The second he was free, Miles was surging into Rhett’s arms, who caught him with ease. 

“I’m sorry!”

“Ain’t got anythin’ to apologize for. You just got a little overwhelmed, that’s all,” Rhett murmured, arms wrapping around Miles, holding him close. 

The floorboards creaked slightly as you padded across the bedroom to join the two men. Your fingers, gentle and loving, came up to brush his tawny curls away from his forehead. “Rhett’s right. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Cheeks shimmering with tear stains, Miles met your gaze. “I disobeyed a-and then couldn’t even take the punishment. I–”

“No, hey, that’s okay. I think you’ve learned enough of a lesson. What do you think, babe?” You asked Rhett, nudging your arm against his.

“I think so, too. What d’ya wanna do, bub? Wanna join in? Or just lay in bed and watch us?”

For a moment, Miles considered the offer. “I think I wanna watch for now.”

“Alright. C’mon then.” Rhett stood, taking Miles’ hand, guiding him to the bed, where the three of you found yourselves settled into the softness of. 

You leaned back against the pillows, while Miles tucked himself against your side, grumbling in discomfort as he moved. “Made a mess. S’all sticky,” he muttered as he glanced down at his soaked boxers.

“Lemme get ‘em off you,” Rhett offered, and moments later, the fabric was discarded, leaving Miles’ cock, still half hard and glimmering with remnants of his spend, entirely bare.

As Miles melted into you, head resting upon the softness of your breast, Rhett pushed your thighs apart, settling between them once again. Through sleepy eyes, Miles watched as Rhett’s hard cock inched inside you again, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on to no end. He sighed longingly once Rhett bottomed out within you, shivering at the sound of your satisfied whine. 

With your legs wrapped around his waist, Rhett picked up the pace he’d been moving at before, filling you wholly, completely, drawing a broken cry from your throat. Miles mouthed at your neck, tongue swirling against your skin, tasting you. 

Moaning softly, you turned your head, capturing his sweet mouth in a searing kiss. “You can suck on my nipple if you want, sweetie.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Eagerly, he ducked forward, lips wrapping around your pebbled nipple, humming in content as his oral fixation was once again soothed. Your fingers carded absently through his hair, tightening around the strands as Rhett moved with more purpose, sending shockwaves through your body.

“Look at you two, so pretty f’me,” he gruffed, leaning in to kiss you. Ever so needy, Miles lifted off your breast for a moment, searching for Rhett’s mouth, not wanting to be left out. 

Rhett hummed in amusement. “Needy thing. Always gotta have that mouth full.”

“Uh-huh,” Miles agreed as he went back to suckling at your nipple. 

Grunting low in his throat, Rhett adjusted his position so his face was inches from your own. This way, he could be close to both you and Miles, and kiss either of you at any time. In the process, he quickened his movements, shunting deeper, sharper, more insistent. 

Your sounds of pleasure were desperate, unashamed, ringing out around you. Miles was drunk off it, drooling and laving at your breast, much more content now that he wasn’t bound and forced to watch. 

To his shame, he was hard again, wet cock pressed against your thigh, hips rolling so he could provide himself friction. Rhett noticed this, and he brought his mouth against the shell of Miles’ ear. “Your cute li’l dick is already hard again? You’re fuckin’ insatiable.”

Miles couldn’t help the moan that bubbled up his throat. “Can’t help it. You both drive me crazy.”

With a knowing smirk, Rhett decided to give Miles a little something extra. He slowed to a stop inside you, kissing away your whimper of protest. “One sec, I’m grabbin’ the lube.” 

He was quick to drizzle it over his fingers, a generous amount at that. Satisfied, he capped the bottle and tossed it aside, and with the click of his tongue, he encouraged Miles to part his legs. 

The aforementioned obeyed instantly, thighs opening. You watched, enjoying a front row seat as Rhett eased his middle finger into Miles’ cute, plush ass. Brokenly, pathetically, Miles whimpered, turning his head to bury against your breast again, mouthing at your nipple to soothe himself. When Rhett added a second finger, Miles cried out, cock twitching. 

Satisfied, Rhett picked up the pace once again, pushing inside you before drawing back. As he moved, he brought his free hand down to the place where your bodies met, fingertips pressing against your thrumming clit. 

With both of you trembling beneath him, Rhett couldn’t help the satisfied smile that spread across his face. “Mm, got my two pretty dolls to play with,” he murmured in delight. 

It was almost too much for you, the feeling of being stuffed full, while his fingers swirled around your sensitive little bud. That, paired with Miles’ pitiful whimpers, lit your body on fire. 

The squelch of Rhett’s fingers inside him was lewd, filthy.

When Miles started to tremble, Rhett hummed. “Easy there, bub. Just take it like a good boy. Let’s see if I can make the two of you come at the same time.” 

When Rhett Abbott set out to do something, it was a guaranteed that he was going to get it done. His determination was his driving force, quickening his thrusts, pressing his fingers deep inside Miles, until, “oh!”

Rhett had the audacity to grin. “Found it.”

He had you both exactly where he wanted you. With each thrust inside you, he timed every push of his fingers into Miles’ sensitive prostate, creating a salacious rhythm that sent you and Miles shivering against each other. 

Miles sought out your mouth, and you kissed him, tongue slipping past his lips, moaning and whining into each other’s mouths. Rhett fucked you harder, sending your vision blurring, your dripping pussy fluttering around his shaft.

Pleasure stricken, heat rushing through your veins, you were losing yourself. So was Miles. “I-I’m so close,” he squeaked, not even ashamed at how quickly Rhett was bringing him to his end. 

“Me too,” came your gasp. Blindly, you reached for Miles’ hand, fingers intertwining.

“That’s it. C’mon, babies. You’re both clenchin’ around me so tight. Come for me.” The deep baritone of Rhett’s voice cut through the air between you, encouraging you to succumb to your pleasure.

“Rhett—fuck!” Miles wailed, when his fingers curled impossibly deeper.

Rhett had the audacity to laugh. “Yeah? Feels good, don’t it, bub?” 

He offered a deep, sharp thrust as he spoke, sending you crying out, hand flying up to grip at his bicep, needing something, anything to hold onto to ground yourself, lest you float up into the sky and explode into a million tiny pieces. 

Rhett grunted, lashes fluttering. “Shit.”

Fiery warmth flashed through your lower belly, rushing from the very core of your body to your extremities, building and building. Right there, right there, right there.

And then, Miles was squealing loudly, face buried against the side of your neck. “Oh! I’m–I’m coming!” 

His body jerked against yours, eyes rolling back in his head as it overwhelmed him. Cock pulsing, he came once again, body spent, barely anything left to give, but still sobbing in pleasure nonetheless. 

His surrender was what drove you over the edge. 

Back arching sharply off the bed, you jolted violently, chest pressing against Rhett’s, nails biting into his bicep as your orgasm washed over you in all-consuming waves. Pussy spasming around his pistoning cock, your body responded by convulsing beneath him, head thrown back, mouth fallen open in a silent cry.

The sight of his two lovers coming unraveled was what sent Rhett over the edge. As you came back to yourself, vision refocusing, you were aware of the twitch of his cock within you, hot cum spilling into your still fluttering core, so much of it that it began to spill out around the edges. 

You must have blacked out momentarily, for when you returned to yourself, Miles was curled against you, still trembling, mouthing at your nipple to soothe himself. Rhett had braced himself above you, head hanging low, regaining his composure, chest heaving against yours. 

When he eased his softening cock out of you, he soothed your soft whine with a deep, loving, kiss. “There ya go. Good girl, took that so well.”

Miles, with his big, sleepy eyes, lifted his head from your chest to ask, “was I good, too?” Very clearly floating in that blissful post-coital state.

“Yeah, bub. You’re my good boy.” Rhett kissed him too, tenderly so. When they parted, he nuzzled his nose against Miles’. 

Utterly spent, Rhett moved to settle on the other side of Miles, so he was tucked safely between the two of you, his greatest loves in life. 

As the afterglow waned, the weight of what had taken placed washed over Miles. He was always vulnerable after sex. Always needed reassurance. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have gone behind your backs while you were gone. I just kept thinking about last night, and I tried so hard to distract myself, but nothing was working.”

“Shh,” Rhett soothed, kissing Miles’ cheek. “It’s all over now. Water under the bridge.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, voice sleepy, snuggling against Miles. “Besides, I’d say we all had some fun, didn’t we?”

“Mhm,” came Rhett's sound of agreement as he nuzzled his forehead against Miles’ temple.

Miles sighed shakily, bottom lip beginning to quiver. “I love you both so much,” he whispered softly.

“We love you, sweet boy,” you whispered, snuggling in impossibly closer.

“I luh you too,” came Miles’ tired murmur, his body relaxing between you both, his misbehavior long since forgiven, the weight of it gone from his shoulders.

All three of you are mess, streaked with drying cum. The mess will need to be cleaned up momentarily. But for now, you’re content to lie here, wrapped around each other. Safe, sated, and so in love.

-

TAGLIST

@cosmic-marauder @thepurplelovewitch @auroralightsthesky @rainymitskicain @marymun

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@sleepretreat @musicislove3389 @willherondale1937 @every-single-day @kehelsi

Miles kept fidgeting. Rhett noticed this as he sat across the table from him at the nice steakhouse that Miles had chosen for their date. The aforementioned continued to fold and unfold his cloth napkin. Fiddle with his silverware. Run his fingers over the rim of his water glass.

“Keep messin’ with that water glass and you’ll wear it down to nothin’,” Rhett teased from across the table. 

Startled slightly, Miles blinked. “Huh?”

Rhett’s mouth curved into a smile as he nodded at the glass. “You’ve been runnin’ your fingers over it for the past ten minutes.”

“Oh!” Miles’ cheeks glowed pink. “Didn’t realize I was doing it.”

Curious, Rhett’s eyes narrowed. “Everythin’ alright? Y’seem kinda distracted.”

Regret tugged at Miles’ chest. “I don’t mean to be.” He took a sip of water. “Gosh, I plan a whole date night, and here I am barely even present during it. I’m sorry.”

At that, Rhett reached across the table, placing his large, warm hand atop Miles’. “What’s on your mind, bub?”

The pink on his cheeks darkened to crimson, and his eyes flickered around. “I, uh…”

Before Miles could formulate a full response, the sudden presence of the waitress slightly startled both men. But Rhett didn’t remove his hand from Miles’, which sent a wave of joyous warmth through him, despite his current inner turmoil. Oh, how far they’d come. There had been a time when Rhett was afraid to show affection to his boyfriend in public. A result of living in a tiny town entrenched in religion, and a local pastor who preached from the pulpit that homosexuality was an abominable sin.

Now, he held the other man’s hand proudly. 

“Can I get you gentlemen anything else?” The waitress asked with a polite smile.

Rhett caught his boyfriend’s eye. “No ma’am. I think we’re ready for the check.”

“Alright, here you go.” She slid the bill across the table. “No rush.” 

Nodding in thanks, Rhett snatched the bill before Miles could. “Thank you.”

As the waitress sauntered away, Miles reached across the table in an attempt to wrestle the leather-bound booklet away from Rhett. “Hey! I’m paying!”

“You pay for the ice cream. I’ve got dinner.”

“Rhett.”

“Miles.”

“I want this whole thing to be my treat. Let me spend some money on you for a change.”

Rhett was hesitant. He was so used to paying for everything, making sure Miles was taken care of. But that was when they were only living on one income. Now, Miles had begun making his own income, too. He sold produce from his garden at the farmer’s market, and he’d also realized he had a knack for quilt making, which he had been making good money off of. As it turned out, people were still in the market for handmade quilts and were willing to pay a pretty penny for them. 

“Okay. But next time we go out, I’m payin’,” Rhett finally relented, sliding the check back toward Miles. 

“We’ll see about that, cowboy.” Miles was quick to fill out the receipt, calculating the tip with quick efficiency. Math had always been his strong suit. 

Once everything was settled, the two men gathered their jackets and headed out the door, hand in hand. Miles hoped Rhett wouldn’t push to continue their earlier conversation, but much to his dismay, he did. 

“Now, what were you about t’ say before the waitress came? Somethin’ about why you’ve been so antsy all night.”

Oh. 

“Maybe we can talk about it after ice cream,” Miles responded, tone a few octaves higher than normal. 

“Oh no you don’t.” Rhett caught Miles by the elbow. “Spill.”

At that, Miles finally surrendered, cheeks burning once again. “Well, I, uh…I’ve been thinking. You always take control in the bedroom. Which I love! You know that. But, um, I thought that maybe…I could take control for a night. Only if you’re down for it, though! If not, just forget I said anything.”

A knowing grin had begun to spread across Rhett’s face, and he was incredibly amused by the ramble Miles was going on. But he was also intrigued. With a low hum, Rhett tugged Miles close. “Oh yeah? Think you can handle tamin’ the big, stubborn cowboy?” 

Flustered, Miles shrugged. “I-I wanna try.”

Leaning in close, body heat and cologne and him, Rhett nuzzled Miles’ nose before he playfully nipped at his bottom lip. “Alright then. If you wanna take the reins tonight, go right ahead.”

Knees going weak, Miles nodded, large eyes blinking at Rhett. “Okay.”

Rhett didn’t know Miles had been planning the scene out in his mind for the past week. He drew inspiration from every scene he and Rhett had acted out. Dominance seemed to come so naturally to Rhett. He had such a confident air about him. And Miles had a penchant for giving up control.

He didn’t want to think. He liked when Rhett did the thinking for him. There was no greater bliss for Miles than slipping into that glorious headspace while being dominated. That safe, floaty feeling. All of his problems melted away, and all that mattered was Rhett, and the pleasure he provided.

Miles wanted Rhett to experience that, too. He hoped that he would be able to bring him to that headspace. If he couldn’t, was he even capable of providing Rhett pleasure at all? Of course, Miles knew this way of thinking was a bit irrational, but the spiral had begun, and he couldn’t stop it.

Now, the truth was out. Rhett knew that Miles wanted to be in control that night. Whether or not Miles would be able to go through with it, remained to be seen.

Rhett was entirely at ease, arm slung over Miles’ shoulders, hip bumping against his as the two ambled toward the truck. Miles wished he could be as carefree in the moment as Rhett, but there was still an uncomfortable sort of tension in his muscles, and an anxiety in his chest. 

He tried to ignore it. Tried to push it down and compartmentalize the feeling. But it still remained just beneath the surface. He couldn’t even enjoy his ice cream once they made it to the ice cream shop. Chocolate for himself. Rocky road for Rhett. 

Rhett inhaled his ice cream in all of five minutes. Miles’ remained melting in its cup, forgotten in favor of staring out the windshield of the truck. Rhett glanced over, taking note of the uneaten ice cream. 

“Ice cream’s goin’ to waste, bub,” he murmured.

Miles glanced down, suddenly realizing the state of his dessert. “Oh. Guess I’m not in the mood for something sweet, after all. You can have it, if you want.”

Raising a brow, Rhett reached for the cup. “Sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I know I’ve been a terrible date tonight.”

At that, Rhett gently tilted Miles’ chin, so he could meet his eye. “Got nothin’ to be nervous about. We’re gonna have a great time tonight.”

“I know. Just…”

“Just what?”

“Never mind. Let’s just head home and get things started.”

For a beat, Rhett was silent, unsure if he should push the matter or not. Something was clearly bothering Miles, more than just the thought of trying something new. However, Rhett also knew that pushing him to talk before he was ready only caused him to shut down. So, Rhett let it go for the time being. Miles would open up when he was ready.

“Alright. Home we go.” Rhett downed the melting ice cream in three bites, and gathered any trash, leaning out the truck window to toss it into the trash can nearby. 

The drive home was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the soft drone of the old country music station playing on the radio. Rhett let his hand rest on Miles’ thigh in that easy way of his, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

He was so good at that. At taking up space unapologetically, at staking his claim. Miles wished he possessed half of that confidence. He was going to have to work very hard to tap into it once they got home. 

Silently in his mind, Miles went over what he was going to say. The dirty talk he would use. The commands he would utter. He planned to use bondage, because he yearned to see how Rhett would look tied up and on display. The rope would be so pretty against his skin, and the marks it would leave would be a reminder of their shared passion. 

And then of course there would be the welts. The firm weight of Miles’ hand brought down upon the plush of Rhett’s ass, leaving pink, raised marks in their wake. Miles would glean great satisfaction from watching Rhett struggle to sit down after he was finished with him. 

Miles breathed in deeply, channeling the dominance he would need for the night ahead. How would Rhett handle this situation? Well, he would start by taking Miles’ jaw in his hand, gruffly commanding, “go get naked for me. Want you kneelin’ on the bedroom floor waiting.”

Yes, that was where Miles would start. 

However, the moment Rhett pulled the truck into the driveway leading up to their cottage, Miles clammed up. Rhett leaned across the console, humming lowly as he captured Miles’ mouth in a sweet kiss. 

“Alright, how d’ya want me? Ball’s in your court.”

With the clearing of his throat, Miles forced a response. “L-let’s uh, go inside first.”

So they did. Rhett unlocked the front door, and in they went, boots scraping against hardwood. His hat made it to the peg on the wall. Shoes were discarded beside the entryway. 

Miles took a moment to steel himself, breathing in deep, taking in the scent of their home. The place they had worked so hard for. There was the faint scent of cloves from the seasonal reed diffuser Miles kept on the credenza near the door. Then there was a barely there hint of cherry tobacco, thanks to the pipe on the mantle that Rhett would occasionally smoke. 

Old wood and leather permeated the atmosphere as well, creating a comforting, homey feel that was more like a warm hug than anything. It was them. All of it. A testament of their shared life together. A beautiful life, fashioned out of the depths of much hardship and sorrow, sanded down like precious stone. 

“Hey.” A big, warm hand came up to rest upon the back of Miles’ neck. Rhett’s voice, gruff and deep, reached his ears. 

Right. There was a scene to act out. 

Slowly, Miles turned, doing his very best to put his insecurity aside. He caught Rhett’s gaze, and spoke. “Go wait in the bedroom. Strip down to your boxers and kneel on the floor.”

At that, Rhett’s eyes sparkled, smirk playing at his lips. “Well, alright then. Yes sir.”

Off he went, stalking down the hallway in sock covered feet, while Miles watched him go. 

In the entryway, Miles wavered slightly, forcing his breath to even out. For a fleeting moment, he wished he had something to take the edge off. Perhaps a glass of whiskey to muddle his senses and ease his nerves. 

But there was nothing of the sort in the house. In fact, neither Miles nor Rhett had even had a drink in a long time. Both of them struggled with different forms of substance dependency. Rhett and alcohol did not mix well, it was best that he stayed sober. And while alcohol had never been Miles’ vice, he still stayed away from it, for fear of turning to it to fill the void that a needle in his veins had once fleetingly filled. 

Both men wanted to be sober, and fully present with each other, no inhibitions. However, times like these made Miles wish there was something to relax himself with. 

Oh, well. Sheer force of will would have to do. 

Breathing deeply, he sauntered down the hall and up the stairs to the modest second floor, where Miles’ sewing room, a bathroom, and his and Rhett’s shared bedroom was. 

The soft glow of light poured from the doorway of the bedroom, and the sight Miles walked in on made him weak in the knees. There was his Rhett, kneeling in the middle of the room, entirely bare, hands resting upon his thighs. 

The cowboy lifted his head the moment Miles walked in, and his eyes shimmered with eagerness, mouth curving into a smirk. 

Miles was so enamored he nearly forgot to speak. When he finally gathered his wits about him enough to form words, his voice cracked, and his cheeks flamed in embarrassment at his own nervousness. “Look at you. S-so handsome.”

Rhett beamed under the praise, despite its slightly timid delivery. “Did everythin’ you said. Wanna be good for you.”

A trembling hand came up to cradle Rhett’s jaw. “You are good for me. So good.” 

Rhett nuzzled into the warmth of Miles’ hand. Awaiting further instruction, gaze open and expectant. “What’re you gonna do to me, sir?”

The question should’ve sent a jolt of arousal through Miles. And it did, partly. But it also sent a slight wave of panic through him. He’d planned this far ahead, but all of a sudden, everything he’d been intending to do suddenly left his mind, and he was blanking. 

Bondage…yes, bondage. That was what he was going to do. “Stay here.”

He crossed the room, kneeling to pull the sleek black case from beneath the bed. A kit that held much of their toys and other such items. Rope, ball gags, a paddle that Rhett had made with the care of his own hands, expertly burning the initials M + R into the wood at the handle. 

Miles went for the rope, fingers trembling as they closed around it. He could feel Rhett’s eyes on him, curious. 

Forcing the tremor out of his voice, Miles spoke with a cadence that he hoped sounded like Rhett’s gruffness. “Get on the bed.”

Rhett obeyed, rising to his feet, half hard cock bobbing heavy between his strong thighs. The sight should’ve made Miles’ mouth water. Instead, his hands shook, and his palms had begun to sweat. 

Pull yourself together. 

As Rhett got situated, Miles was quick to scramble out of his own clothes, save for his underwear. By the time his clothes were discarded, Rhett was on the bed, ready and waiting. 

Miles approached, rope clutched in his hand. “Gonna tie your hands behind your back. Turn around for me.”

So Rhett did, allowing Miles to pull his arms back, rope slightly rough against his skin. He could feel the way Miles was shaking, palms clammy. In fact, he could barely even still his hands long enough to get the rope tied properly. 

Even so, he forced himself to speak. “I’m going to ruin you. Get you all helpless beneath me, tied up so you can’t get away.”

If Rhett had been the one speaking those words, Miles would have been whimpering pathetically, turned on beyond belief. But coming out of his own mouth, they sounded foreign, like they didn’t belong on his tongue. 

Rhett still went along with it, moaning low in his throat. “Please, wan’ that so bad.”

The binds weren’t tight enough, Rhett could tell. He’d be able to slip out of them easy if he wanted to, but he didn’t dare. 

“Gonna be a good boy and take it?” Miles asked, fingers threading through Rhett’s curls to pull his head back, not nearly forceful enough to cause any pain. 

“Uh-huh.”

“Bend over for me. Le-let me see your cute little ass.” Mentally cursing himself for stuttering, he watched as Rhett shifted, and Miles reached out to steady him as he lowered himself to the mattress, stretched out on his belly, arching his back. 

And there he was, in all his glory. Rhett was built from years of ranch work and bull riding. Not bulky, but sturdy, strong, muscles rippling beneath freckled skin. He was so beautiful that Miles couldn’t even find the words under his tongue. He was rendered speechless. 

Tentatively, Miles ran his palm over Rhett’s pert ass, squeezing slightly. Rhett sighed, turning his head to look back at Miles. When he brought his hand down against Rhett’s skin, it was almost shockingly gentle. Certainly not enough to cause a real sting.

Rhett figured that Miles would find his rhythm and get rougher, but with each gentle swat, it became apparent that he wasn’t going to apply more pressure. He was afraid of hurting Rhett, and even though Miles knew the cowboy could take much more than he was giving, it was a subconscious thing. He simply couldn’t force his hand to come down any harder. 

But Rhett, as patient as he was with Miles, didn’t complain. He knew how nervous the other man was, and he wasn’t going to add to that by critiquing his spanking technique. He feared it might knock Miles out of the headspace he needed to be in. 

However, it seemed that Miles was sabotaging himself without help, already forgetting half of what he’d planned to say. He should have been degrading Rhett as he spanked him, murmuring about how pathetically pliant and obedient he was, what a slut he was for liking this. After all, those were things Rhett would have been growling at Miles if their roles were switched.

He couldn’t pinpoint when the spiral started. But with each passing moment, he fell deeper into the depths of his own mind. What had he been thinking? He’d been so set on taking control, and now that he had it, he couldn’t even do it right. Couldn’t give his partner the true satisfaction he needed. And suddenly, what had started out as a way to spice things up and keep Rhett interested, was now Miles’ undoing.

He stopped what he was doing, hand lifting to rake through his honeyed locks, tugging at the roots. “Dammit.”

Rhett immediately noticed the frustration in Miles’ voice. When silence followed, he lifted his head, gazing over his shoulder at Miles, whose eyes were glimmering with unshed tears, bottom lip quivering slightly.

When he saw Rhett was looking, he shook his head. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m…I just…”

Rhett was moving before Miles could formulate his sentence, sliding his hands out of the light bondage with ease. “Hey now, s’alright. Let’s just take a few seconds, okay?” He shifted to tug Miles into his arms, and the moment he pulled him to his chest, Miles buried his face against Rhett’s neck, curling into his warmth.

“I’m sorry, I was stupid to even suggest this.” The moment the words left his mouth, Miles felt Rhett tense beneath him.

“Hey.” Stern. A warning. “What’d I say about talkin’ down about yourself like that?” 

Miles lifted his head then, but he couldn’t bring himself to look Rhett in the eyes. “I know, I know. I just…”

With a soft sigh, Rhett reached out to tilt Miles’ chin toward him. “Look at me.”

Miles was afraid he would break down if he met Rhett’s gaze, but he forced himself to look at him anyway. 

“What’s goin’ on with you? You’ve been extra jumpy all night. I thought maybe you were just nervous about bein’ in control. But somethin’ else is wrong, isn’t it?”

An uncomfortable tightness pulled at Miles’ chest, emotion welling up within him so intensely, he couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. “It’s…” Stupid. That was what he’d been about to say. But he knew Rhett wouldn’t be pleased with that answer, and certainly not after he’d already scolded Miles against being self-deprecating. 

“Hey. You can talk to me, bub. Tell me what’s wrong. I wanna help ya feel better, if I can.” Lovingly, Rhett brushed back the stubborn curl that always fell against Miles’ forehead. 

A deep, shuddering breath tore through Miles. Admitting it felt so embarrassing. The heat of his shame burned up his neck, even though he knew he had no reason to to be so self-conscious. This was Rhett. His life partner. His confidante. His everything. The man who had risked his own safety to rescue Miles when his life had been threatened so long ago at the El Royale, the shady hotel he had once worked at. 

He owed it to Rhett to be open and honest. He deserved that much at least.

“I’m afraid you’re going to get bored of me.” The words tumbled out, spoken into the air between them before Miles could stop them. 

Rhett didn’t react at first. But his eyes betrayed any attempt at looking passive. The deep blue was truly a window into his soul, revealing every emotion before he had a chance to express them in other ways. 

He didn’t react in irritation. Didn’t brush Miles off and dismiss him as being irrational. Instead, Rhett took a deep breath, and asked, “Why d’you think that? Is it…have I done somethin’ to make you feel that way? Because if I did, I’m s–”

“It’s nothing you did, believe me. I just, uh, got really in my head about it. You’re always in control when we have sex, and I love it, but I started spiraling over the fact that you always take on the role, and worried maybe you’d eventually get tired of it and want someone else who could bring more to the table. So I thought if I took control, it might make things more interesting for you. But clearly I can’t even work up the nerve to be the kind of dom you need me to be.”

His words settled into Rhett, the following silence heavy and fraught. 

“Miles, baby.” The words were breathless. Soft. “I could never, ever get tired of you. You’re…god, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Can’t imagine my life without you in it. Don’t need y’to bend over backward tryin’ to make things more interesting because you’re already the most fascinating person I’ve ever known.”

The tears that had already begun to shimmer in Miles’ eyes spilled forth then, trailing down his cheeks. His mouth opened to form a reply, but the only sound that broke forth was a soft sob, prompting him to bury his face against the side of Rhett’s neck once again. 

Rhett held him close, resting his cheek atop the crown of Miles’ head. “I love you more than anythin’, you hear me?” His words were punctuated with a kiss to Miles’ hair. 

“I-I love you too,” Miles whispered, heart warming in his chest, filled with love and gratefulness. 

A few moments of comfortable, safe silence passed between them, and after Miles’ tears slowed, reduced only to sniffles, Rhett shifted against him, and they were both suddenly made very aware of his desire. 

Rhett was still hard, achingly so, and he rolled his hips forward, cock brushing against Miles’ hip. “Y’feel that? That’s all you. You make me so fuckin’ hard. Doesn’t matter what you’re doin’. Could be baking a loaf of bread or feedin’ the chickens and I’d be popping a semi just from watchin’ you.”

That pulled a genuine smile from Miles, a blush creeping along his cheeks. “You’re just saying that,” he said with a shake of his head. 

At that, Rhett’s brows shot up. “Oh really? You’ve got no idea what you do to me. Lemme show you.” 

Carefully, gently, he took Miles’ hand, placing it over his reddened, pulsing cock. Something in Rhett’s expression shifted. His lashes fluttered, eyes narrowing, mouth parting, and this innocent, pleading air settled upon him. 

His voice, softened an octave, laced with neediness, reached Miles’ ears. “Please sir, you're being s’good to me. Never thought I could feel this soft, this safe, with someone. My body is yours to use, just take it and it’s all yours, all fuckin’ yours Miles.”

At that, Miles felt his breath hitch in his chest, heart rate accelerating, blood rushing in his ears. “You…you think I can really do this? Take control?” Shy. Questioning. 

Without hesitation, Rhett nodded. “I do. I can help you, if you want.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

At that, Rhett ducked forward, capturing Miles’ mouth in a sweet kiss. When they parted, he knew exactly how to approach the situation. Miles needed some gentle coaxing into the right headspace. Rhett wanted Miles to be himself. He didn’t need to act like Rhett. He just needed to be Miles. 

“How do you want me? I’ll do anything, be anything, you need.”

Miles took a deep, shuddering breath, considering Rhett’s offer. As he gazed upon the cowboy, he envisioned how the scene would unfold. How did he want Rhett? What position would he find most satisfying, most fulfilling? 

“I’d like you on your hands and knees,” Miles finally decided. 

Rhett’s mouth twitched into a slight smile. “Yes sir.” With ease, he settled onto the bed, on his hands and knees, curving his spine slightly, enticing the other man. 

“Do you, um, do you want me to try spanking you again? I know it probably wasn’t that great the first time around.”

“I want y’to do whatever you’re most comfortable with, alright?” Gentle. Understanding. 

That sentence took an immense weight off of Miles. There was no pressure. No expectations. So he decided, in that moment, that he wasn’t going to try spanking again. Instead, he would let the scene unfold naturally. 

What did Miles want out of this? As he considered it, he realized that all he truly wanted was to be inside Rhett. To feel Rhett tighten around him with each thrust, to watch as Rhett trembled beneath him. And most importantly, he wanted to take care of Rhett.

So Miles leaned down to kiss Rhett’s shoulder, lingering and warm, before he reached over to ease the drawer of the nightstand open, fingers curling around the cool bottle of lubricant. “Let me make you feel good, bubba,” came the soft murmur from Miles. 

Then he was kissing down Rhett’s spine, lips warm against his skin as he trailed lower. Rhett shivered, eyes drifting shut in delight at the feeling of his boyfriend’s mouth on his skin. Then, Miles did something Rhett wasn’t expecting. The blunt edge of his teeth nipped at the soft swell of Rhett’s ass. Not nearly enough to sting, but enough to get his attention.

Rhett moaned deep in his chest at the feeling, and the sound sent a swell of confidence through Miles. “I love your cute little ass,” he murmured with a smile, emboldened, palm rubbing over the spot he’d just nipped at. “I can’t wait to be inside it.”

“Please, need you now,” Rhett sighed out, pushing back toward Miles. 

“Gotta get you ready first.”

The plastic pop of the lube cap reached Rhett’s ears, with Miles quick to drizzle a generous amount on his fingers, warming it first before he tentatively smoothed it over Rhett’s entrance, careful but deliberate. With his free hand pressed lovingly against the small of Rhett’s back, Miles silently coaxed him to relax, tension melting away. 

When he eased his middle finger inside Rhett, the cowboy took in a stuttered breath, shivering at the slight invasion. Miles went slowly, ensuring that there was enough lube, before he added a second finger. It provided a delightful stretch, just a small taste of what was to come. 

Deeper, deeper, deeper, angling his fingers just so, wondering to himself if he would be able to provide stimulation to that sensitive spot deep within Rhett’s walls. 

And then, “Oh, fuck.”

The sense of pride and delight that washed over Miles was indescribable. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, warmth blooming in his chest. He pulled that sound out of Rhett. It was all him. 

“Yeah? You like that?” Miles breathed, still grinning. 

“Uh-huh.” Rhett’s tone had taken on a whiny pitch, almost pathetic in nature.

Miles quickened his movements, fingers delving deeper, more deliberate. Rhett leaned back into his touch, searching, desperate. Give it to me. Need it. Need you. Need more. 

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” came Miles’ confession. “You’re so tight. Gonna feel so good around me.”

Moaning high in his throat, Rhett spoke, “please, give it t’me. Want your dick so bad.”

That plea sent blood rushing south, Miles’ cock growing impossibly hard against the confines of his underwear, twitching with desire. “Not yet,” he hummed. “Gotta work you open a little more. Be patient for me.”

Rhett grit his teeth as Miles repeatedly thrust his fingers inside him, deeper still, each press sending a jolt of molten heat along the base of his spine. With each sound of pleasure he let out, the more it boosted Miles’ confidence. Rhett wasn’t putting on a show, he wasn’t embellishing his reactions to make Miles feel better. No, he was genuinely unraveling, vision flickering white as Miles pleasured him. 

Rhett’s arms had begun to tremble where he braced himself against the mattress. His thighs quivered in tandem, body thrumming like a live wire. But Miles realized something. 

He wanted to watch Rhett’s face. He couldn’t very well do that in this position. So he gently eased his fingers out of him, chest aching at the soft sound of protest Rhett let out. 

“Turn over for me, wanna watch your handsome face,” Miles instructed. 

Obediently, Rhett turned onto his back, and Miles was careful and quick to arrange some pillows behind Rhett’s head, ensuring he was comfortable.

Once he was settled, Miles leaned back to tug his own underwear down his legs, discarding them somewhere to worry about later. There were more important things at hand. 

Then, he leaned down, nose nuzzling against Rhett’s. 

When he kissed him, it was sweet. Loving. But it deepened into so much more. The fire of their shared passion sparked within the meeting of their lips. As Miles settled over Rhett, bodies pressed together, heartbeats intermingling, he couldn’t keep his desire at bay any longer. 

“Ready to take it?” Miles asked. He rolled his hips, hard cock brushing against Rhett’s, steel wrapped in velvet. 

“Please, sir. ‘m so hard it hurts.”

It did Miles in. 

“Good grief. You can’t say stuff like that.” 

Rhett couldn’t help the sleepy grin that decorated his face. “Why? It turn you on to hear me talk about how badly I want you to fuck me?” 

Blushing as if he wasn’t about to do just that, Miles rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to last if you keep talking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Y’know. In that sexy way you do. God, it drives me crazy.”

Mischief glimmered in Rhett’s eyes as he decided to egg Miles on. “Yeah? Well, whatcha gonna do about it, bub?”

Something shifted in Miles’ expression. The tightening of his jaw. The darkening of his eyes. What was he going to do about it? That challenge seemed to fully bring him to the headspace he needed to be in. 

Perhaps it was the slight brattiness in Rhett’s tone that urged Miles to put him in his place. Whatever it was, Miles was already moving, hands firm upon Rhett’s thighs as he shoved the man’s legs apart. 

“I’m gonna fuck the attitude out of you, that’s what.”

Rhett’s eyes widened slightly at the brazenness. Miles moved determinedly, settling between Rhett’s legs. The bottle of lube was clutched in Miles’ hand again, and he poured a generous amount into his palm, capping and tossing the bottle aside. 

When he wrapped that same hand around his cock, his eyes locked with Rhett’s. The slick sound reached his ears, erotic and obscene. Rhett’s skin grew warm under the heat of Miles’ gaze, belly fluttering with anticipation. 

“Why don’t you ask for it nicely? Show me your manners,” Miles coaxed, tapping lightly against Rhett’s entrance. 

He could hardly find his voice to speak, and when he did, it came out gravelly and broken. “Please give it to me, sir. Wanna be your good boy, wanna take every inch. Please fuck me. Need you so bad.”

The pleading tone sent Miles’ head spinning, a heavy wave of desire rushing through him, clouding his senses. He could hardly fathom that he was given the privilege to be in this position, to see Rhett in such a state. It was intimate. Sacred. The way he bared himself. Vulnerable, exposed.

It was a thing of beauty. All lean muscle rippling beneath freckled skin, hidden strength that spoke of his years riding bulls and enduring hard labor. Such a strong, steady, immovable force of a man, now trembling beneath his boyfriend, face softened with need. 

Miles understood then, in that moment, what it was like for Rhett to be in control. How he felt to see Miles underneath him, helpless and pleading. It wasn’t a power trip, it wasn’t a misuse of control. No, it was a form of intense care and trust. Safety, protection. Rhett loved Miles with the whole of his heart, and taking care of him, both sexually and non-sexually, was incredibly fulfilling for him.

Now, Miles was getting a taste of that fulfillment. “Gonna give it all to you,” came his whispered promise as he wrapped his hand around himself, red and flushed, stroking firmly before he aligned with Rhett’s entrance.

Slowly, carefully, Miles eased his hips forward, hissing softly when the head of his cock breached that tight little hole. Beneath him, Rhett grunted softly, mouth falling open at the stretch. Tentatively, Miles placed a gentle hand upon Rhett’s hip, keeping him grounded as he focused on inching forward.

Rhett’s eyes had begun to water, and he squeezed them shut, putting his focus into breathing deeply as Miles filled him, stealing the breath from his lungs with each press forward. Meanwhile, Miles watched in awe at the sight of his shaft disappearing inside Rhett, marveling at the way the muscle stretched to around him. 

Rhett swore under his breath, back arching, gritting his teeth. “Jesus.”

Every little reaction was exactly what Miles needed to keep building that confidence. And what an incredible ego boost it was to watch the way Rhett’s lashes fluttered, eyes growing hazy, heavy-lidded, cheeks reddening as the warmth of pleasure pervaded his every sense.

He was perfect. He was everything. 

“Look at that. Took the whole thing like the good boy you are,” Miles whispered in amazement, heart swelling with pride. 

“Uh-huh,” mouth loose around the sound, all Rhett could do was nod, tremor running through him. 

Then Miles angled his hips just so, and there it was. That electric jolt that flickered at the base of Rhett’s spine, like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. “Fuck!”

Miles pulled back before easing inside once again. Slow, careful, building up a rhythm. And with each movement, Rhett’s face displayed every ounce of bliss he felt. His brow furrowed, his mouth fell open, his eyes rolled back. 

It encouraged Miles to go faster, deeper, moving with purpose. Rhett was so warm and tight around him, it was overwhelming, and he found himself a little woozy, head spinning, skin thrumming with heat. 

He leaned down, enveloping Rhett, bracing his hands at either side of his head, face hovering over his. When Miles kissed him, it was deep, languid, tongue sliding into Rhett’s mouth. He tasted sweet, like the ice cream he’d consumed earlier. 

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” Rhett moaned into Miles’ mouth.

Breathless, trembling, Miles replied. “Yeah?”

“Mhm!” The sound came in the form of a whimper.

Miles was drunk off Rhett already, kissing all over his face, licking into his mouth, nudging his cock deeper within him still. And Rhett, in all his solid, bull rider glory, was crumbling. With a cock splitting him wide, he hardly knew what to do with himself. His hands clutched at the sheets, pulling the fabric taut as Miles fucked into him.

Rhett could hardly utter a coherent word, the only sound that made its way out of his mouth were breathless grunts with each thrust. Usually, when he was in control, he was dirty talking Miles the entire time, low murmurs of erotic filth in the other man’s ear, just to watch him blush and hear him whimper.

But now, he couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe. And the pleasure only intensified as Miles continued, spurred on by the way his boyfriend was responding. If Rhett wasn’t so entrenched in the bliss coursing through him, he would have stared up in wonder at how beautiful Miles was this way.

His hair had gone wavy and loose, curl settling haphazardly against his forehead. His cheeks were flush. His face was set in a firm mask of determination, but also delight. He was relishing in this. 

Wrapped up in the intensity of it all, he gripped the plush of Rhett’s thighs, shoving his legs up higher, which gave Miles more range of motion, and allowed him to go even deeper.

Rhett managed to grit out, “h-harder. Wan’ it harder.”

So Miles gave it to him. No inhibitions. No hesitation. Each snap of his hips against Rhett filled the space between them with the lewd, slick sound of skin on skin. An erotic soundtrack to the intimate act.

Miles leaned back just enough to gaze down at Rhett’s cock, hard and leaking against his lower belly, twitching with each brush against his prostate. “Poor thing. You’re so hard,” Miles cooed.

When his hand wrapped around him, Rhett hissed, the added sensation like a lightning bolt, sizzling through his veins. “Shit, oh my g– ah!” 

Rhett was losing himself. Back arching off the bed, hands clutching the sheets with enough force to pull the edges off the mattress itself. The stretch, the constant brush of Miles’ cock against that sensitive little spot inside him, the feeling of a hand wrapped around his dick, was sending him plummeting toward…what, exactly? It was a foreign feeling. Yes, it was pleasurable, and he would surely reach his climax if Miles continued this way.

But it was something else. Something more intense. More mental, rather than physical. Allowing himself to be taken care of, to shut his brain off and just give up control, had awakened something within himself.

There was no reprieve from the stimulation. It grew and grew, rippling through him with abandon, until all he could focus on was the way Miles filled him, touched him. He spoke, mouth moving, but Rhett couldn’t hear it over the rush of blood in his own ears. 

And then, something shifted. Miles angled his hips differently, and his hand tightened around Rhett’s cock, thumb swiping over the sensitive, blushing head. That combination made him see stars, vision bleeding white, mouth falling open. 

The sound he let out was pitiful, broken, destroyed. Above, Miles slowed, eyes widening, concern washing over him. He’d never heard such a sound come out of Rhett before, and for a split second, Miles feared that he’d hurt him. 

“Are you—” He looked down, and the words died in his throat. There was Rhett, vision out of focus, mouth parted, drool slick against the corner of his mouth. 

He wasn’t in pain. Far from it. 

“Please, please, please keep going. I’m so close, I’m right there, please—!” Babbling, begging, completely losing himself. 

Miles saw it then, watching in real time as Rhett’s brain shut off, bliss engulfing his mind in its comforting, delightful warmth. And there it was. The place Rhett had always been able to send Miles when he dominated him. Safe and warm and everything he could ever dream of. 

Rhett floated there in ecstasy. It would be so easy to bring him over the edge, to let him succumb to it all. But the thing of it was, Rhett was nothing if not a tease. There were so many instances in which he’d brought Miles to the very edge, and denied him the release he so desperately craved. 

Miles took a page out of Rhett’s playbook and decided to do the same. 

“You’re so easy for me, aren’t you bubba? Didn’t take much to turn you into a whiney mess.” Miles’ soft teasing reached Rhett’s ears. If he’d been more coherent, he would’ve had a quip to respond with. But how could he utter a reply when it felt like his brain was melting?

Then, Miles did something that floored Rhett. He slowed way down, easing his hips back, not quite pulling out, but almost. That nearly shattered Rhett. “No, no, no. W-why did you stop? I-I’m s’ fuckin’ close! Please!”

Shivering, cock twitching, leaking, flushed and hot. So overwhelming, it was almost painful. But Miles leaned closer, hand tightening around Rhett. Recalling something Rhett had said to him only a few days ago, Miles decided to play a little dirty, emboldened by the raw pleasure coursing through his veins.

His free hand came to rest upon Rhett’s throat, just barely applying pressure, not enough to choke him, but enough to make the cowboy aware of his presence. “Now, now, shhh, it's okay,” Miles cooed. “You wanna be my good boy, don’t you? Well, you said it yourself just last week. Good boys wait patiently.”

Rhett had indeed said those exact words, when Miles grew a little too whiney and impatient. He’d taken Miles’ face in his hand, ignoring the crocodile tears, despite the fact that Rhett was always a goner for that precious, quivering bottom lip. He managed to hold his ground and gently reprimand Miles for being so impatient.

Now, Miles was taking that page right out of Rhett’s book. 

He let Rhett squirm for a moment, and he could almost see the cogs turning in his head, trying so desperately to behave. And what a sight it was. Who would have thought it possible to put Rhett Abbott in his place? Stubborn, immovable, gruff. Someone capable of knocking a fully grown man out with a single punch.

And yet, here he was, quivering and drunk off his boyfriend’s cock, willing to do anything just to ensure that he was allowed to cum. It almost made Miles decide to let him. Almost.

“Gotta hold it for me a little longer, alright?” Soft, gentle, murmured into Rhett’s parted mouth as he kissed him.

“Uh-huh.” Rhett’s tongue delved past Miles’ lips, kissing him sloppily, salaciously. 

When Miles started moving again, thrusting deep, Rhett moaned pathetically, brokenly. And as the movements continued, he grew so encompassed in bliss that drool began to pool at the corner of his mouth, dripping down his cheek.

Miles licked it clean.

Heat blossomed between the two men, growing hotter still, until it burned like a fiery inferno. They were both so far gone, unashamed of the mewls and grunts shared between them. As the warmth coursed through Miles’ veins, he found himself losing some of his resolve, suddenly very eager to reach his own end. Which meant he needed to coax Rhett to his. 

Finally, finally, he granted the man permission.

“Ready to cum for me, baby?” Miles whispered, forehead resting against Rhett’s.

“Pl-please. Can’t…can’t hold it anymore.”

Insistently, Miles stroked Rhett in time with his thrusts. As he kissed him, he brought his free hand up to toy with Rhett’s nipples, tugging the pebbled little buds until Rhett was literally squealing against his mouth.

“Fuck! I’m–!”

That was when Miles was given the utter privilege of watching his beloved fall apart. As the crescendo came to a head, Rhett was consumed with it, trembling like a live wire as his orgasm ravaged him. It spilled from his pulsing cock in hot waves, creamy white against his belly, painting an obscene yet oddly beautiful picture.

Through it all, he shook and moaned and whined, head thrown back, mouth parted, losing himself.

Miles lost himself, too. With a few more deep-seated thrusts inside Rhett, who was still clenching tightly around him, Miles fell to pieces. Instinctively, he gripped one of Rhett’s hands as it overtook him. 

White-hot, earth-shattering, it engulfed him. He couldn’t help the whimper that broke free from his throat, and he buried his face against the heat of Rhett’s neck as Miles pressed his hips forward as close as he could. 

Rhett’s eyes rolled back at the flood of warmth inside him, the evidence of MIles’ release seeping into the deepest part of him. Claiming him. Marking him. I’m yours. All yours. Always. 

Vibrating, shivering, floating on an entirely different plane of existence, each of them came down from their own respective pleasure highs. As his vision cleared, Miles slowly lifted his head from where it was buried against Rhett’s neck, and he took in the sight of him.

Eyes hooded, mouth parted, cheeks flushed. Still cock drunk. And then, something shifted. Miles could see it in the slight furrow of Rhett’s brow, the softening of his glossy eyes. “Did…was I good?”

The vulnerability in that phrase nearly broke Miles. “Oh, bubba,” came his whisper as he ducked forward to kiss Rhett sweetly. “You were perfect.”

Rhett’s chin began to quiver. His eyes welled with tears. “I-I was?”

That was when Miles took Rhett’s face in both his hands, thumbs stroking warm cheeks. “Yes. You took that so well. I’m so proud of you.”

The tears began to fall. And Rhett hardly knew what to do with himself. Why was he crying? What on earth was wrong with him? It came in waves, and he couldn’t stop it. Miles could have panicked in that instance. He could have spiraled and convinced himself that he’d hurt Rhett, that he’d ruined everything, that this whole scene was all in vain.

But for whatever reason, a sense of calm washed over him, and he realized that he knew what to do. After all, he’d been in this position many times after an intense scene. Rhett didn’t need Miles to fuss over him. Didn’t need him to ask a thousand questions. 

All he needed was to be held.

“Hey, it’s okay,” came Miles’ whisper. He eased his softening cock out of Rhett, kissing away the other man’s whine of protest. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He crawled up beside Rhett, pulling him into his chest, cradling him close. He comforted Rhett through the comedown, lips pressed against his forehead, hand stroking up and down his back. Sweet, gentle, loving. 

In that very moment, Miles truly felt like he was in his element. There was no guessing, no worrying that he was doing something wrong. He knew exactly how to express tenderness. After being robbed of it for so long, Miles was now in a place where he was safe and loved. The least he could do was return that comforting feeling to Rhett.

Miles wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Perhaps five minutes. Maybe ten. After a while, Rhett’s tears slowed. And when he was ready, he lifted his head, cheeks reddened, shy smile tugging at his mouth. 

“Sorry. Don’t know what the hell came over me.”

But Miles only shook his head, hand coming up to cup Rhett’s cheek. “Don’t ever apologize for that. It means so much that you felt safe enough to let go like that in front of me.”

Sniffling, Rhett nuzzled closer to Miles. “I, uh, didn’t expect it to be that intense. Couldn’t control it, all of a sudden I was just…cryin’.”

Miles’ mouth curved into a fond smile. “Now you know how I feel. S’why I cry nine times out of ten after sex. It’s just…everything I could ever want. And you always make me feel so good. Can’t help but have an emotional release, I guess.”

At that, Rhett tilted his head back to kiss Miles sweetly. “Thanks for lettin’ me be all vulnerable with you like that.”

Miles nuzzled his nose against Rhett’s. “That’s what good boyfriends do.”

The afterglow settled upon them, and they remained curled against each other for a little while longer, enjoying the peace. When the silence was broken again, it was by Miles, who asked, “Did I, um, do a good job, being in control like that?”

Rhett smiled. “Yeah, you did a great job, bub. I really liked it. It was a nice change. Plus, it was really hot, seein’ you take control.”

Relief washed over Miles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m glad we talked things out and figured out what works for you. After we cleared the air, it was like you were a natural.”

Pride warmed Miles’ chest. “I dunno if I was a natural, but–”

“No, I’m serious. Honestly, I’d like to let you take control more often, if you’d be willing.”

At that, Miles nodded. “I’d like that, too.”

Rhett soon fell serious as he reached out to brush his fingers over Miles’ cheek. “But don’t forget, you don’t gotta jump through hoops just to keep me interested. Like I said earlier, I could never get tired of you. I need you to know that.”

Miles let his forehead rest upon Rhett’s. “I do know that,” he whispered. “And thank you for reminding me.”

“I’ll scream it from the rooftops if I have to. You’re already everythin’ I could ever want. And don’t ever change, you hear me? You just keep on bein’ yourself.”

“I’ll keep being me,” Miles agreed.