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“More,” I mumble, my voice catching on the word.

“My sweet, Caspian,” he says, his teeth finding that exact spot on my neck, grazing, taunting and then finally sinking in. I yelp, my back arching off the mattress, my one hand clinging to his back and the other gripping the sheets. “Ssshh, what would your police officer housemate think if he heard you screaming like that?” he asks playfully, an admission that he knew I made up that little bit of information.

Pre-cum drips from the head of my cock, and Sterling uses it to slick us both before he’s fisting us together again, setting a steady pace. Pleasure coils tight in my belly, so tight I fear I may shatter from the immense pressure building inside me.

“Mine,” Sterling growls, lips and tongue devouring my ear, my neck, my collarbone. His hand works faster, his kisses grow sloppier. My body shivers and my breath hitches.

“All mine. My good boy.” His teeth latch onto my Adam’s apple and I explode. My eyes slam shut, my head spins and I writhe on the bed, both chasing and trying to escape the overwhelming sensation coursing through me. Sterling comes moments later, his back muscles tightening under my palm, his breath whooshing out, hot against my sweaty skin.

I melt into my sheets, and he blankets me with his body. I’m warm and satiated and so fucking happy.

But then he moves so that he’s kneeling over me and my focus narrows in on the cum on my skin. It’s cooling rapidly in the morning air, sticky and damp and caked into my pubic hair.

I hate it.

Sterling doesn’t waste a beat, dipping down and licking up every drop, moaning as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“Why don’t you make that noise when you eat my scones?” I joke. Green eyes peer up at me and he tauntingly licks into my belly button, making me laugh.

“We taste so good together.” He gives one last lick across my belly, before he sniffs me in that way that I find both odd and arousing, and then he launches himself to his feet and holds a hand out in my direction.

“Come, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up.”

I take his hand, following him off the bed, but before I can guide him to my bathroom, he sweeps me off my feet.

“Let me,” Sterling says, leaving my room and padding barefoot to the same shower we shared last night. He starts the water with one hand, then without putting me down, guides us under the cold spray. “Today, I will fix this. You won’t be cold again, my Caspian.”

“Why would someone do this?” I ask, crouching to take a closer look at the damage done to one of the fences. The wire mesh has been cut in multiple places, meaning it’s not an easy fix and I cannot let the sheep out of the barn and into the paddock without the risk of them escaping.

Bagel, who’d darted out of the kitchen door as soon as I opened it this morning, has found me again, now standing at my side as if surveying the damage herself. She swishes her tail and rubs my leg.

“Sabotage,” Sterling says from further along where he’s already rounding up broken pieces of wire.

“Sabotage? For what reason? I barely make any money off these sheep. I’m not a working farm and even if I was, I know all the farmers in the area and we’ve never had issues. We’re a community, not competitors.”

Sterling hums under his breath, and I get this feeling he has other suspicions.

“It was probably bored kids looking to make trouble,” I decide, standing up and rubbing my hands on my upper thighs. He doesn’t say anything about my suggestion, but I don’t press him on it. Instead, I pat Bagel on the head, then walk over to where Sterling is piling up the broken fencing.

“Leave it. I will sort it later today.” I press onto my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “I have to go now.”

He stops what he’s doing, and when he looks at me, his features are hard. Almost dangerous. But they soften when our eyes meet.

“I should come with you.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. And you -” I poke his firm chest, “are a distraction. And besides, don’t you have work of your own to do?”

He nods. “I guess I do.” Sterling leans down and kisses me. Sweet and chaste and so natural it feels like we have been doing it for years.

“Meet me here later?” I ask once I’ve finally broken our kiss.

“I’ll be here.”

I kiss him a few more times before I drag myself to my car.

The sky is a pretty shade of dark purple this morning, the scent of damp earth thick in the air after the storm. I sing to myself, a big smile on my face as I cross over the causeway and into the village, pulling my car into its spot at the back of Iona’s.

The bakery is quiet when I walk in, save for the gentle hum of the fridge. I close the back door, then immediately turn on the ovens and head to the pantry to get the ingredients for today’s bake.