CHAPTER 350: A TENDER LOVE (M)

Andrew’s mouth found the soft flesh of the man undulating on top of him, taking his cock deeper inside of him. Squeezing and holding him deep inside of him, his warmth a tight vice around Andrew’s cock. Andrew moaned, his fingers digging into Maxwell’s soft flesh, gripping him so tightly he knew that his pale skin would hold the marks for hours.

The sound of their moans mixed with the sound of water hitting the tiles around them as Andrew sat on a temporary stool brought into the shower stall. Andrew’s feet clenched on the tile as Maxwell’s internal grip tightened around him particularly tight, and Andrew clenched his teeth, before turning his attentions back to the slender neck under his mouth, the soft way Maxwell let out a little fluttering moan as Andrew’s tongue licked closer and closer to the back of his neck.

Maxwell gushed around Andrew’s cock, making the already slick rocking movement even slicker. Andrew’s lap felt wet his his passions, and it was a damn compliment that the man was so hot and bothered for him.

"You like taking my cock?" Andrew asked against the thin throat before him, pressing his lips and tongue against it, tasting every little drop of sweat and water pearling on his skin.

"You couldn’t stop me from taking this cock. It’s mine." The possessiveness in his voice, in the panting, needy breath washed over Andrew. It made his balls draw taunt, his grip tightened just a little too far and Maxwell made a soft noise of complaint.

"It’s yours." Andrew promised, letting the man rock his hips, find his pleasure with his cock. Andrew enjoyed himself, his whole body tight with tension as Maxwell’s hands gripped his shoulders, his fingers claws. He rubbed a particularly deep spot inside of him and gasped, leaning forward and wrapping more of his body around Andrew, his nails digging into his back as he continued to rock against that spot.

Andrew grit his teeth, holding off his own climax so that Maxwell could find his own. Andrew reached down, releasing his hip to grab Maxwell’s cock in his own hand. Maxwell swelled in his hand, his nails digging in more as Andrew stroked the throbbing cock in his hand in time with Maxwell’s shifting hips. Andrew continued kissing and licking his skin, tasting the man in his lap. Letting him have control in the way that Maxwell craved, but not letting him have full control.

When Andrew had been lost, trying to figure himself out, he’d let the man have a lot of control. It had been necessary at the time, a protective blanket that had protected both of them. Andrew couldn’t let that remain. He needed Maxwell to understand that they were in this together now. No more acting on his own. No more doing everything without asking or acknowledging Andrew.

That included the bedroom.

Sure, it was hot as hell when Maxwell took complete control, having his way with Andrew. He wasn’t a damn idiot. He did find it hot as hell. But he was no push over. He’d never been one, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived the few visits his father had paid to their apartment.

So, Maxwell could ride him into oblivion, mark him as much as he wanted, but Andrew was going to be there every step of the way. Every single step. And he was going to make sure that Maxwell didn’t forget that he had been there the whole time as well.

Andrew felt Maxwell as he shuddered, every inch of his body attuned to the other man as he quaked in his arms. Maxwell was gripping onto him tightly, not slamming his body down like he normally did on Andrew’s cock, instead continuing to rock his hips in a hold that Andrew could tell was more of Andrew’s speed when it came to making love.

Andrew felt his lips curl up as he felt a distinctly male pride fill his chest. He was glad that he’d shared this with Maxwell, and that he had liked it enough that he was doing it now. Maxwell kept making these cute little needy noises that were driving Andrew insane.

Andrew, unable to help himself, nibbled at Maxwell’s neck, his new teeth a little too sharp, a little too hard and Maxwell let out the sweetest moan he’d ever heard as the man quivered in his lap, coming apart on Andrew’s cock, his cum covering his hand and chest as his fingers dug deep and hard into his back.

Andrew groaned, the twitching on his cock making it hard for him to control him, and then he wondered why he was even doing that. He felt his body tense, his cock begin to swell, and heard the soft complaint from Maxwell as Andrew came, filling the condom on his cock probably to near bursting.

The two remained intertwined for a long, long time, Maxwell pulling back enough to kiss the man slowly, deliberately, with a deep affection that had Andrew’s toes curling. Andrew held him, the best thing that had ever happened to him, in his arms.

Then, he slowly, carefully, withdrew from the man, keeping the condom on because he knew that neither of them were going to be able to keep their hands off of each other, but at least he began the process of cleaning Maxwell up.

Did that mean the man coerced Andrew into fucking him slowly against the wall of tile in the shower as water pounded onto his back? Yeah, it did, but it was fine.

They weren’t going fast, as if they were fevered for each other like they had been when they had first entered the bathroom. This was more careful, more methodical. A love making endeavour, not a fast fuck that was meant to fulfil one desire.

This was a careful soul feeding. Filling the need that the two had for each other between soft breaths, sweet moans, and the joining of flesh that meant far more than just the crude act. Maxwell was caring for Andrew just as Andrew was caring for Maxwell. Each touch, each caress a way the two were able to connect on a deeper emotional level that had Andrew’s eyes watering.

He loved the man, and he loved how Maxwell showed that same deep love, just in different ways. He let Andrew be pushy in ways he knew the man allowed no other to do so. Like how Andrew was able to wrap the man up in a towel and carry him out of the bathroom and into their bedroom, dry his hair carefully, help him get dressed, take care of the man in ways he probably had allowed no others to do in years, if ever.

It was so sweet, so lovely, held so much of Andrew’s heart that Andrew found himself wrapped so thoroughly around his finger that there was no way he wanted to escape.

Andrew was laying in bed, his mind racing, Maxwell tucked into his arms, when he finally told Maxwell what Dr. Cox had said to him.

"Dr. Cox said today that I would make a good father." He said quietly, and Andrew could feel the sleepiness fading from Maxwell rapidly. His muscles tensed, his eyes flickering open. He watched as he blinked several times, trying to wake up more.

"What? What prompted that?" He asked softly, shifting, and Andrew felt his lips tug up.

"She was noticing how well I was taking care of Richard, how well we are, and how good I am with other children. That she thinks I’ll be...kind. A good dad." Andrew told him, a lump forming in his throat. "Do you think I’d be a good dad?" He asked. He knew that Maxwell had told him that he would be, but this was different. This was the first time that Andrew had ever asked Maxwell that question. If he’d asked it before, he probably had pushed it so far to the back of his mind that he couldn’t remember.

Maxwell’s expression softened so completely that Andrew couldn’t not feel how much the man loved him. It was such an open expression from a man who spent years calculating the best expression to make, the best gesture, everything down to a fine art that it had Andrew’s eyes welling before he even spoke. Maxwell reached up a hand, cupping Andrew’s cheek so tenderly that the first tear fell as he was speaking.

"My sweet Andy." Maxwell began. "There is no doubt in my mind you would make an amazing dad. The best out there. Any child you had would never wonder that you loved them, or that you cared about them. It would be in their bones, deep inside of them." Maxwell hesitated, getting choked up. That only made Andrew more aware, the tears spilling more. His already compromised eyesight grew worse since he couldn’t see past the wall of tears that choked his eyes. "Because that’s how I feel. Your love for me is another pulse under my skin. I never have to doubt it, Andrew, because you never make me have to doubt you. For not even a second." Maxwell swallowed. "I know you have your own trauma, your own worries, but this is one thing I have no doubts about. You’d be a great dad." Maxwell told him. "And it would be an honour if you let me be the other dad." Andrew just broke down sobbing. He pulled Maxwell against his chest, crying painful, loud sobs that he muffled against the skin of the man who loved him so wholly.

He’d never really cried about it, not even as a kid. He’d kept it inside, not acknowledging the deep trauma having a father like he had because he hadn’t wanted to hurt his Mom. His Mom who was made out of goodness and sweet floral scents. A woman who smiled so warmly, so easily even in her last days. Who had had everything taken from her by a man who hadn’t cared for her beyond the fact that she was breeding mare for what he needed.

True alphas.

And when he didn’t get what he wanted? He discarded her.

Andrew, as a kid, hadn’t wanted to give her any more of a burden, so he kept it all inside. Kids were perceptive, dangerously so. Andrew had learned how to put on a good act, hide all of the issues he had inside. Be the dutiful son that his Mom had needed, suppressing everything until it had become a ball of hatred inside of him.

Speaking to Maxwell, having others tell him what they thought without knowing the deep pain that Andrew kept inside of him? It broke something there. Something deep. Something that felt real, and it was more like peeling off the toxic shell to reveal the warmth he’d had inside the whole time. The gifts his Mom had given him, the sweet warmth of her hugs, her availability no matter how busy she was.

The way she had never said a bad word against his father, but had let his own actions speak loud enough for him. She had never willingly poisoned Andrew to his father. Had never spat vitriol at him, had never made him out to be the bad guy even given the situation she had found herself in. She was the bigger person, even as she built an empire to isolate him and his family.

She would have hated knowing what this was doing to Andrew, what Andrew was doing to himself. Andrew hugged Maxwell tighter, and the smaller man just held him as he sobbed. Andrew wasn’t even aware that he’d fallen asleep like a toddler. Crying himself into exhaustion, but that was what happened.

Holding onto the man who was slowly helping him build himself back up into something stronger, better. The man who he couldn’t wait to marry.