His hands are already wandering over me, gentle and urgent, flexing their power over me, making me moan deep in my throat.  He's moved to my throat and he pauses briefly, inhaling against my shoulder, whispering my name. Tightening his grip slightly, he scrapes his teeth over my flushed skin.

I shudder and he moves on, capable hands stroking my flanks, teasingly.  He handles me like a rider handles his mount, with a firm hand, quieting my nervous shivering, until I can do nothing but lay quivering beneath him. Still, he probes my body, relearning every square inch.  Thorough, like a Mountie should be, until there's no place that he hasn't touched or tasted or breathed in and my skin is vibrating.

He caresses my stomach with light teasing touches, dipping into the recess of my belly button with his tongue.  Holding me down, he nips at my hips, laving the crease of my thigh with his wet mouth, his breath scalding me. For a moment, I feel like my body is an altar and he lays before me, supplicating and needy. Why does he have to touch me this way?  Like I'm a treasure that must be protected and loved and treated so tenderly. Touching me in ways that no one will ever be able to match.  I hate myself.

I can feel my cock throb in delicious time with his hum as he sucks me into his mouth.  Another quick lick and he rolls me over, giving me the chance to get away and I take it, like I always take it.  Struggling to my knees and kicking back, but he's there, with his heavy weight and his strength and he pushes inside me, hot breath against my back, curling about me like a second skin.

Pushing my leg out of his way, pinning my arms tightly to my own chest, he gives me no respite.  The hard stretch of my body about him makes my shiver. I writhe and he pushes harder, forcing me onto my belly, covering me in a way that Ray never could, forcing his will on my body.  Bigger, stronger, harder.

He knows how much it excites me, to feel his hard nipples rubbing against my back, the moist breathy noises that he makes at my neck.  How his teeth feel as they pull at the skin on my nape, marking me, making me his.   Long slow thrusts, angled and deep, driving me to the edge.  Short hard strokes, pushing me further into the bed.  Making me beg and plead and cry his name.

His hand moves to grip me, heavy and sweaty.   He swirls his thumb about the leaking slit and then brings it to his mouth, licking away my precum before offering his fingers to me.   I draw them in and chew at the tips, tasting our sweat and desire, before he returns them to my cock.   He squeezes me beneath the glans, pumping in counter rhythm to his movements, gnawing on my shoulder blades.  Tells me with his throaty voice to fuck myself on his body.

And I do everything he demands.

I beg with my body and my voice.  I let the feeling wash over me and through me, until I can't even stop the tears that leak between my closed lids and down my cheeks.  My one brief moment of regret, that he alone will never be enough.

He pulls my head around and laps at the salt. Drinking them like nectar and that small thing makes my balls tighten and my back arch.  My gyration forces him to release my chin and push my face into the pillow.  Strong hand cupping my skull, the soft sweet scent of the down filling my nose, air being pounded out of my lungs with his body.   I'm dizzy now, a beautiful red haze covers my eyes, and my body betrays me.  Struggling for air, fighting him, but he's strong and heavy, and I never have a chance.

My ears roar, my heart pounds, my lungs ache, and I swear I can feel each thread in the sheets beneath my fingers.  Then red haze is turning a lazy black; I can see us, his beautiful tight body holding me down as he thrusts. For one crazy sweet moment, everything is as clear as it was that day.