Well, here it is: the final chapter & the epilogue. Thank you so much for joining me on this journey. It took longer than expected but, well, 2020.
I sincerely appreciate the ratings and the comments. Each time I felt like I should just quit, it was you all that kept me going.
We're going to leave Rusty & Matt and the crew of the
Marzi
here for a while. I'll be back in the new year with something different, but we'll check in with our guys again at some point in the future.
Once more -- thank you for reading!
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Between physical therapy and my workouts, I was almost fully recovered by the time we were half a tenday out from Mars. Even with the setback provided by my pity party after the shit with Kells. And if I'd known how much of a difference saying the "L" word was going to make, I might have gotten over my bullshit faster. Well, probably not. But now that I was telling him how I felt instead of sniping at him, Matt spent a hell of a lot less time working at night, which meant more time in bed with me.
"Shoulder bugging you again?" he asked.
"Huh?" I looked up from my handheld. I'd been watching the latest vid from Scrap. The kid reminded me so much of myself at his age. Adrenaline was thoughtful and deliberate while Scrap generally went with whatever he felt like doing in the moment. I was pretty sure the contrast between the two feeds made each one even more interesting than it would have been alone.
"Hello? Control to Rusty."
"Shit. Sorry. What?" I dragged my eyes away from the screen and dropped my tablet onto the table. Matt repeated his question about my shoulder. Until that moment, I hadn't realized I'd been doing the thing. Even though my injury was healed, my shoulder tended to be stiff and I would rotate it forward and back repeatedly when it got bad. Usually I was aware of it, but I'd been more sucked into Scrap's footage than I thought.
"Go on," Matt said, standing up from his console and stretching. "Shirt off. Lie on your belly." I did as I was told and Matt crawled up beside me, grabbing a bottle of oil and pouring a generous amount directly on my back because he's a dick.
"Cold!" I yelped, flinching. The captain chuckled and started massaging the slippery liquid into my skin. It warmed up quickly. Over the last while, he had learned where and how deep my aches usually settled, and I sighed as his hands moved confidently over my muscles, digging in along the edge of my shoulder blade and on my side under my armpit. Luckily, I wasn't ticklish. Long minutes later, I was starting to doze, having become a Rusty-shaped puddle on the bed. Matt reached my lower back and kept going, pushing my shorts down under my ass so he could massage my glutes. He hit a tender spot with his thumbs and I jerked.
"Sorry," he mumbled, digging into the same spot with the heel of his hand.
"Fuck me," I groaned as the pain spiked and then receded, settling into a dull ache that began to almost feel like pleasure while he kept working it. When he had finished, I wasn't surprised that Matt lay down next to me, lifting himself up to brush his lips against the base of my neck and send shivers down my spine. This wouldn't be the first time a massage led to sex, after all. What I wasn't ready for was the feeling of his fingers, slick with a fresh coating of oil, playing along my crack.
"What are you doing?" I rasped.
"I am going to do as requested, my love," he said softly, right into my ear. He kissed the sensitive spot just behind it, his fingers exploring deeper, and my dick jumped to attention. Well, it tried. Since it was trapped between my body and the mattress, it stiffened at an uncomfortable angle. Matt tugged on my shorts and I lifted my hips to let him pull them off, using the motion to allow my erection to spring up against my abdomen. Matt straddled me and I felt his dick nestle between my cheeks. I bit back a moan when he leaned over me again, pressing his dick harder against my ass.
"I am going to pound this gorgeous ass and make it mine," he purred. "I'm going to wreck you, Rusty, and make you feel so good." Anxiety coiled in my belly. Sure, I'd been fucked plenty - hell, even once by the guy on top of me - but always as part of a transaction or in a desperate attempt to relieve the painful need that consumed me after each of my nightmare episodes. Outside of that, I was always the one who did the penetrating. Never had I considered trying to receive for pleasure; nothing about a dick in my ass had ever been about feeling good.
But this was Matt. I trusted him completely and, if he said he was going to make it different, I had to believe that he'd try.
Memories of past experiences had me tensing up when he once again lay at my side, his finger slipping deeper between my legs to brush my opening. I twitched, both in pleasure and anticipation of pain.
"Let me in, baby." His finger made circles against my hole while his other hand gently rubbed my back. "Trust me, sweetheart. Relax." Though I wouldn't admit it in a million years, I loved it when Matt called me stuff like that. He'd been doing it a lot lately and I'd caught myself giving him a dopey grin once or twice, so I was sure he knew exactly what he was doing to me. Anyway, it worked. I spread my legs farther apart and took a deep breath, forcing my muscles to relax on the exhale.
He worked his way in slow, taking his time until his entire finger was in me and he was fucking me at a steady, unhurried pace. Then he withdrew and I surprised myself by letting out a whine of protest. After a moment, it became clear he had applied more oil when two very slippery fingers breached my ass.
"Fuck," I groaned. Matt stroked his fingers in and out, stretching me, preparing me. Then he twisted his wrist and curled his fingers to hit my prostate and my body convulsed, my dick leaking into the sheets.
