Page 31 of Merrick

Merrick slid his hand down his stomach and he took his cock into his hand, squeezing himself until he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

“Like this,” he murmured, releasing his dick and reaching behind him to press his fingertips into the bruising on his ass. “And like this.”

“The pain makes you hard?”

“Remembering you giving me the bruises makes me hard,” Merrick said.

“And you got up and cleaned, decided to make breakfast?”

“I was going to bring it to you in bed.”

Wilder wanted to say that washisjob, after a night like they’d had. After any night, it would have been his responsibility, his honor to make Merrick breakfast in bed. To dote on him and feed him bite by bite until he was full. The service parts of submission had always been the most interesting to him because although Wilder wanted his submissive partners to spoil him sometimes, it was generally something he defaulted to doing on his own. The coffee had been a test their first morning together. It had been Wilder trying to get the lay of the land with Merrick and understand what he was willing to do and how far he was willing to go. Further than Wilder had ever hoped for, he quickly realized.

“Did you make enough for yourself?”

“I was going to.”

“Okay,” Wilder said. “I won’t stop you.”

He gave Merrick one last look before heading back to bed.

The sheets were certainly ruined from all the sweat and lube, but Wilder suspected Merrick would get a thrill out of replacing them himself so he decided to let them be. He climbed back into bed and crossed his legs at the ankle, grabbing his phone off the charger to check his messages.

He had one from Justin, nothing more than the eyeball emoji…three times.

Wilder took a picture of Merrick’s clothes neatly folded on the dresser and sent it in reply. When Merrick returned to thebedroom balancing one plate and two mugs of coffee, Wilder took a picture of that as well.

“Did you just sneak a photo of me?” Merrick asked, sitting down on the side of the bed.

Wilder took one mug and moved back so Merrick had room to set the plate down between them. He’d made toast and bacon, and also sliced up an apple Wilder had in the fridge.

“Do you want me to delete it?”

“What’s it for?”

“For me,” Wilder answered. “Because I want it.”

“Don’t delete it,” Merrick said. “If it’s for you.”

“Everything about you is for me,” he said.

Merrick swallowed hard, licked his lips.

“How are you feeling? Did you get enough sleep?”

Merrick’s cheeks pinked and he sniffed, taking a drink of coffee before answering, “I feel amazing.”

“Good.”

“I really…” Merrick shifted his weight and tugged up the leg of his boxer briefs to reveal a purplish bruise. “I like this a lot.”

“That’s good. Does it hurt to sit?”

“I can make it hurt,” Merrick said, giving Wilder the impression that he wanted to. “But no, not if I’m being normal.”

“Good.”

Wilder picked up a piece of apple and handed it to Merrick before picking up one for himself. They ate the simple breakfast together in what felt like record time, and then Wilder moved the plate to the nightstand and brought Merrick closer to him.