You Moaned For Me Last Time

If it wasn’t wrong, it wouldn’t feel this good.

Micah shouldn’t have stayed the night.

But he had.

Roman didn’t ask him to. Didn’t offer a blanket. Just left him there on the bed, used, leaking, flushed red with sweat and heat and disappeared into the shadows of the apartment like he hadn’t just wrecked him.

Now it was morning, and Micah was still naked. Still on his side. Still aching.

His pants were somewhere on the floor. He hadn’t reached for them.

He heard footsteps before he saw him.

Roman came back with a glass of water and a single command: “Open.”

Micah obeyed without thinking. His lips parted and Roman tilted the glass toward him, fingers resting under his jaw. The water spilled past the corners of Micah’s mouth as he drank too quickly, but Roman didn’t pull back. Just watched. Like he enjoyed the mess.

When Micah coughed, Roman set the glass down. “You’re tense.”

Micah looked away.

Roman’s hand touched his inner thigh. Barely there. Just fingers stroking gently, slowly, like he was petting a trembling animal.

“I didn’t hurt you,” he said.

“You didn’t ask,” Micah replied hoarsely.

“You came.”

Micah’s throat tightened.

“You wanted to stay,” Roman added. “You could’ve left.”

“I didn’t...”

“You could’ve crawled away, Micah. I wouldn’t have stopped you. But you didn’t move. You slept in my bed, with your legs still wet from me.”

Micah’s heart thundered in his chest. His cock was already half hard again, and Roman hadn’t even touched him properly yet.

“I shouldn’t want this,” Micah whispered.

Roman smiled faintly. “But you do.”

And then...Roman’s mouth was on him. No warning. No slow build.

Just warm, wet heat swallowing him whole, and Micah gasped so loudly it felt shameful.

Roman didn’t move fast.

He savored.

His tongue traced every inch, lips dragging slow, torturous circles that left Micah shaking. He moaned, high, broken—and Roman moaned back. Not loud. Just a soft sound of satisfaction, like tasting something sweet for the first time.

Micah clutched the sheets.

Roman didn’t stop.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t even look up.

He sucked harder, tongue flicking under the head just right, and Micah bucked against the bed with a gasp.

“Please,” Micah choked.

Roman finally looked at him then. Just his eyes, lifting. Unbothered. Cool.

“You’re begging now?”

Micah flushed crimson. “N..No...”

“You sound pretty when you beg.”

Roman pulled back just enough to speak against the tip. “Let me show you something.”

Micah barely had time to breathe before Roman’s fingers replaced his mouth. Two of them, slick, slow, pushing inside with practiced ease.

Micah’s back arched.

He wasn’t ready.

Or maybe he was too ready. Too open from last night, too sensitive, too sore in all the right places.

Roman fucked him with his fingers like he was taking notes—testing angles, watching how Micah twitched when his knuckles brushed there, how he whimpered when they curled just right.

“I like how you respond,” Roman murmured. “Every sound you make is honest.”

Micah’s breath hitched. He was close. Too close. It was humiliating, he hadn’t even been touched for five minutes.

“You’re going to come again,” Roman said calmly. “And this time, you’re going to tell me why.”

Micah whimpered.

Roman twisted his fingers. “Say it.”

“I d..don’t...”

Roman’s palm pressed down over Micah’s hip, pinning him to the bed. His thumb rubbed circles over his lower back while his fingers worked deeper.

“Say you like how I use you.”

Micah shook his head violently. “I can’t...”

“You can. Because you came last night, and you’re going to come now, and I haven’t even fucked you yet. You like how I break you open.”

Micah let out a raw, helpless moan.

His hips jerked. His mouth opened.

And he came.

Hard.

All over the sheets. All over himself. No one was touching his cock. Just Roman’s fingers inside him, coaxing every twitch, every gasp, every shame-soaked spasm of release.

He collapsed.

Roman didn’t move.

He stayed behind him, fingers still inside, hand resting heavy on his spine. Holding him open. Claiming him.

Micah couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t think.

And still, he didn’t tell him to stop.

Roman leaned down, lips grazing his ear.

“You’re mine now.”

Micah didn’t argue.

Because they both knew he’d be back tomorrow.