7. Benji
CHAPTER 7
BENJI
M y insides feel like fireflies. They’re buzzing around, lighting me up, from the inside out. For the duration of the twenty-minute car ride home, I’ve been trying to slow my racing heart, but I can’t seem to get it to stop. Now, we’re here, and I can’t make my legs move. It’s like my body’s working against me.
Bennet Anderson is on the other side of our front door, and try as I might, I can’t move a muscle.
He said I can look at him. He wants to look at me too. What world even is this, anymore? Ever since last night, I’ve been in this foggy headspace. It’s like all the times I’ve nodded off on the couch, and I could still hear the world going on around me, but I couldn’t move. I try to repeat the actions that can usually break the spell of sleep paralysis. The twitch of a finger is all it normally takes. Once I can get one moving, everything else normally falls in line. Not this time. Not when Bennet’s entire penis is waiting for me.
On the ride home, I forced Meadows to stop at Panera Bread so I could pick up some soup for Bennet and Dad. The second we pull into the driveway, the front door opens and Dad jogs toward Meadows’ Dodge pickup truck. God. He looks exhausted. His skin is pasty, and sweat is pouring down his face.
My door opens, and Dad’s at my side, stroking my face, kissing my cheek, telling me it’s okay, because I’m home, right where I belong. He says I don’t have to go back to work if I don’t want to, because he can’t stand the thought of me being sad like this. But I’m not sad, I’m terrified. I don’t know where he finds the strength to pick me up, but that’s exactly what he does. I wrap myself around him like a second skin, burying my face in the crook of his neck.
Bennet.
I need my Bennet.
I don’t even know if Dad said goodbye to Meadows. I must’ve tuned them out. Somehow, by chance or miracle, we’re outside my bedroom door, and I don’t remember a single step of the journey. The door opens, and when I look into our room, I see him. My Bennet. My whole wide world.
Muscle memory kicks in as I unhook my legs from Nate’s waist, flailing them until he sets me down. The second I’m on solid ground, I sprint for the bed, wanting to dive in and envelop myself in Bennet Anderson. But my Bennet is sleeping. So calm and peaceful. Bennet sounded so sick on the phone earlier, and I know he needs his rest, so instead of waking him, I kiss his sweaty forehead and head back downstairs.
Dad’s in the kitchen, holding the bag that’s housing their soup. I don’t even remember him grabbing it from the truck. He’s singing an old song that he plays a lot. Lisa Earlobe, I think he said her name was. As he’s singing about a lover in love while the other lover runs away, he’s popping the container in the microwave.
I wrap my arms around him from behind. “How are you feeling?”
He smiles over his shoulder at me, closing the microwave door and holding his hand over mine on his stomach. “Better now that you’re home.” He sets the microwave for a minute and a half and turns, cupping my cheek. “I’m so happy you’re home, buddy.”
“Yeah?” I whisper, my cheeks warming.
“Yeah. It’s not the same without you. It’s not the same without either of you.” He wraps me up in a hug and kisses my forehead. “I sure do love you, little man.”
“Love you too.” Once the soup is warm enough, I fix Bennet a bowl and carry it upstairs. He’s still in the same spot from earlier, so I set the soup on our bedside table and take a seat beside him. I leave a trail of kisses across his forehead, tightening the grip I have around his back and pulling him right against me. His eyelids flutter open, and when he sees it’s me, his blue eyes almost seem to sparkle.
“Benji,” he says in a voice that rips the breath out of my body. His finger touches my chin, and he gently ghosts his fingers along the length of my jaw before cupping my cheek. “Missed you.”
I lean in and give him a quick kiss on the lips. “Missed you too. Are you feeling any better?”
He blinks a few times like he’s trying to assess his physical state. “My tummy is still spinning, but my head doesn’t hurt as bad.”
I point at the bowl. “I brought you soup. Do you want me to feed it to you?”
His lip trembles, and he gives me a reserved nod. Slowly, I spoon-feed him chicken noodle soup, kissing his forehead and praising him after each spoonful. Dad joins us about halfway through, and he’s got his soup in a large tumbler, sipping it with a straw.
“I had to take out the noodles. I’m not sure I could hold them down.”
Once the soup is gone, I nuzzle next to Bennet, resting my head on his chest, practically purring as he strokes my back.
Dad’s behind me, pressing a hand against my shoulder. “Do you boys want me to stay?”
I do. I really, really want him to stay with us. To see our reactions to each other. To gently guide us toward our goal, the same way he did last night.
“Stay,” Bennet says, holding his hand out, inviting him into bed with us.
My heart is thundering in my chest. All morning, I’ve watched my best friend fall deeper and deeper for the Daddy I promised him. The one I found, just for us. These new feelings of Bennet’s are big and reckless and beautiful, and minute by minute, hour by hour, I watched Bennet Anderson come back to me. Becoming the man he was before the monster took him away. The boy who used to smile at me in the backyard, holding a dandelion behind his back, telling me he had a pretty flower for his pretty brother. Yesterday, the idea of Bennet falling in love with Dad without me felt like an anchor tied around my chest, weighing me down and keeping me lost at sea. But now, it’s just so fucking beautiful. The men I love are stumbling into love together. Tweaked noses and kisses to chins and foreheads and both cheeks aplenty. And now the looks they were giving each other earlier are aimed right at me. I know I’m probably going to struggle with trust issues for a while, but right here, right now, there are no ill wills or bad intentions. There’s no lying serpent slithering about, pretending to love me only to take away the only man who’s ever truly loved me back, and tuck him in the attic.
“I’ll stay if you want me to, boys.” Dad smiles at us, but he looks like he’s going to fall asleep at any second. He’s gorgeous as all get out, but he looks absolutely wrecked.
“Would you rather go to bed?” I take my hand away from Bennet, because I want him to know if he doesn’t want to do this right now, we don’t have to, but Dad just nods his head, looking disappointed in himself.
“I’m sorry. I really wanted to be here for you when you?—”
“It’s okay,” I interject. “We can wait until tonight. It’s fine.”
He leans in and kisses my forehead. Damn. Even his lips are warm. I lift my hand to his face, wanting to feel for a fever. He’s still burning up. I feather my fingers through the ring of hair around his bald head. Sure enough, his scalp is hot too.
“Why don’t you both—” He grabs his stomach and rubs. “I’m feeling a little . . .” He feigns a vomiting sound, and he’s so absolutely adorable when he does, I can’t keep the smile off my face. “Can you do something for me?”
“Anything,” Bennet and I answer at the same time.
He shakes his head. “Anything you want to do together is okay. If you want to explore, then I want you to explore.”
Bennet shakes his head. “It would feel weird without you.”
Dad reaches past me and feathers his fingers through Bennet’s hair. “Then just look at each other. You don’t have to do anything more than that if you don’t want to.”
Bennet frowns. “But what if we want to do more?”
Dad cocks an eyebrow. “You don’t need permission to play with each other, son.”
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Yeah, we do. It’s in the rules. No playing unless we’re all present.”
Dad’s eyebrows raise even higher. “You have rules? For the three of us?”
Fuck. Okay, I wasn’t supposed to mention that, and, yes, I regret letting it slip out, but I can hardly swallow the words back down to wipe them out of our history.
“It’s not really a rule as much as something that makes us feel more secure,” Bennet eexplains. “The monster used to make me do stuff without Benji. He would do stuff to Benji when I wasn’t there. I couldn’t keep an eye on him and make sure he was safe, and he wasn’t safe a whole lot.” There’s a tear in Bennet’s eye, and Dad and I both reach for him at the same time. Our hands touch, and we share a look that speaks volumes. One that screams to protect what’s ours. My hand is on top of Dad’s, but it still feels like he’s the one in control. Our hands don’t move. We barely breathe. We exist in this moment until the moment fades and Bennet’s hand presses against mine, sandwiching me between them.
“You’re safe now,” Dad and I say at the same time, making me gasp. I try not to get my hopes up, but there’s a small spark of hope that I can’t extinguish. Hope that Dad is the missing piece of our puzzle, and he’s ready to wedge himself into the picture so we never feel broken again.
“I’m scared,” Bennet finally admits, glancing back and forth between Dad and me. His fingers curl around my hand, gripping tightly. “I’m scared of what this could do to us if it doesn’t work out.”
“We won’t let it,” I promise him. “Nothing is ever gonna stop me from loving you, Bennet. All or nothing, I promise.”
“Beginning to end,” he says, nodding slowly. Turning to Dad, he adds, “That includes you too. Beginning to end, Nate.” He slides the hand not holding mine beneath Dad’s. He’s holding both our hands, and, in turn, holding us all together. “I mean it.”
“Me too,” I say.
The moment feels electric. There’s static crackling and popping all around, wrapping around us and warding off the world. In this bubble we’ve created, there’s no right or wrong. There are no roles of fathers, friends, and sons, just truth. There’s an unspoken connection that amplifies hour by hour, day by day.
Dad looks like he might cry, and we can’t have that, so I break the bond Bennet’s forged for us, and I take Dad’s hand. I bring it to my lips, kissing each of his knuckles. Bennet reaches for the other and follows my lead, kissing Dad’s palm. His lips linger longer than mine, and I’m feeling a little guilty about giving so little, so I repeat the action, keeping my lips pressed firm against his hand.
Dad sighs. “What did I ever do to deserve this? The way you boys treat me, it’s like . . .” He closes his eyes and sighs. “It’s been so long since anyone’s needed me.”
“Of course we need you,” I say.
Bennet nods. “We’ll always need you.”
“Because we love you.”
“Because you’re ours,” Bennet says. “And we’re yours, Nate.”
Dad still looks like he might cry, and I don’t want that. He doesn’t deserve to cry. He’s a good man with a huge heart. Even if this doesn’t work out—even if we can’t have him the way we want—he doesn’t ever deserve to cry.
Dad lets go of our hands and pulls us both against him for a big, bear hug. “Well, that’s settled then.” His voice is shaking, but it’s clear he’s trying to put a carefree tone in it, it just isn’t working out the way he hoped. “I’m your dad for life, now.” He kisses each of us on the forehead before breaking contact, sniffing wetly. The second his hand is gone, it feels like a part of me is missing. Judging by the look on Bennet’s face, he must feel it too. “Your old man’s feeling awful, so I’m going to go puke up my guts and then I’m taking a nap.”
Bennet makes a gagging sound, but he’s obviously just playing it up for the crowd.
Dad chuckles. “Have fun, okay? Do as much or as little as you want. If you get scared, I’m right down the hall.” And with that, he turns and walks away, leaving us to muddle through the rubble he’s left behind. Bennet and I sit at the edge of the bed, our legs dangling over the side but not long enough to touch the floor. Bennet’s hand is at his side, and as much as I want to take it, I can’t make my hand move.
“Do you mind if we take a nap first?” Bennet asks when it’s just the two of us. “I just need a little more rest before I’m ready.”
“We can nap as long as you need, Bennet. I don’t mind.” I curl up beside him, pulling the covers over us. “Can I hold your penis?”
Bennet snorts a laugh. “You can touch me anywhere.”
So, that’s just what I do. I hold his cock like a security blanket as I nod in and out of consciousness for the next three hours, and Bennet sleeps like a rock. Eventually, his eyelids flutter open, and he’s beaming ear to ear.
“Hey, baby,” he whispers.
“Hey, Bennet.”
“If you’re sure about us looking at each other, I think I’m ready.” To prove it, he drives his hard cock into my hip. “Are you still sure?”
“Yeah. I want to see you, and I want you to see me.” I dart my eyes in his direction and sure enough, he’s looking at me. He looks as lost as I feel, and seeing my own worry being mirrored back at me is too much, and I have to look away. Staring at the ceiling, I graze his pinkie with mine. “Do you still want to see me?”
“Yeah.” There’s pressure on my shoulder, and when I look down, Bennet’s head is resting against it. “What are we doing, Benji? Are we trying to have sex? Are we dating?” He closes his eyes and sighs.
“I know it’s weird, but it makes sense, doesn’t it? We’ve always been close.”
“Not dick-sucking close.”
“No, but you’ve held my hand almost every time I’ve bottomed, just like I’ve done for you. You kiss the side of my face, telling me to relax and let our daddy in. You tell me I’m beautiful, Bennet. You say I’m the most beautiful man in the world the whole time.”
“Because you are,” he says. “Sometimes they don’t tell you, though, and you deserve to hear it. You deserve everything.”
“And you want to be the one who gives it to me?” I ask.
“I already do, don’t I?”
“Can I tell you a secret?” I ask. The way his hand squeezes my knee a little tighter is all the answer I need. “When they’re fucking me, I only ever think of you. Not sexually—not up until now, at least—but you’re where my mind wanders. And you’re always there, Bennet. You’re always beside me, right where you belong. When I come, I’m never thinking of them. It’s always your face. Smiling at me. Telling me everything’s okay. Reminding me I’m safe. It’s you every time. I know this is scary and sudden and it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I love you, Bennet. More than I love anyone, that’s how much I love you.” I reach across our chests until I’ve got my hand on his half-heart necklace. “You’ve got half of mine, and I’ve got half of yours, remember?” I lightly tug at his necklace. “I don’t know if what I feel for you is sexual, or how it would even work, but I want to try. I think we owe it to ourselves.” I twist my head closer toward him, kissing his head, the soft blond hair tickling my nose. “What if we could be more? More than what we are right now.” I have to clear my throat to rid it of a whimper, because if he says no to this, I don’t know what I’ll do. “Would you want that?”
“Yeah.” He sniffles. “Yeah, Benji. I think I do. I’m just scared it’s going to ruin?—”
“If this works,” I cut him off. “If we work, I promise, I’ll never hurt you. I’m never gonna break your heart, I swear it.” Squeezing his pinky as an unspoken oath of sorts, I press my other hand against his heart. “You’ve trusted me with this for twenty years. Have I ever hurt it before?”
He stares at me, words unspoken in his mouth, and I know he’s too scared to let them out. He doesn’t have to be though. That’s the entire point of this conversation. He can trust me now, just like he always has.
“Do I . . .” He closes his eyes, mouthing, “ come on, come on, come on , ” through a beautifully frustrated scowl. “Can I call you my boyfriend now? Is that what this is?” My eyes widen, and he must think I’m disgusted with the idea, because he shakes his head fast. “Forget I said that. Fucking intrusive thoughts. Ah, hell. Benji, I didn’t?—”
“Yes!” I blurt, surprising myself just as much as Bennet. I fly forward, crashing against his chest, sending us tumbling down onto the mattress. Bennet’s on his back, staring up at me with his big, beautiful eyes, and he looks like he can’t tell if I’m about to slap him or mount him. Well, I’m basically mounting him as it is. I’m on his lap, arms propped on his chest, our faces close enough that I can feel his warm breath. “Wait. Are you actually asking me to be your boyfriend, or is this some cruel hypothetical situation that’s been forged in the flames of hell? Because if so, I’m not going to?—”
He covers my mouth with his hand and snickers. “Will you be my boyfriend?” My jaw is trembling so hard Bennet can feel it, and he softly strokes my cheek with his thumb.
I kiss his palm, then pull far enough away to be able to speak. “You mean it?”
“I don’t know how any of this sex stuff is going to go, either, but I think even if we’re not compatible like that, I still want this with you. If physical stuff is too weird, I still want to be able to look at you and say, ‘That’s my boyfriend.’ I wanna be yours, Benji, and I want you to be mine. I love you.” He brings his voice lower, slowly inching closer. “I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a while.”
God, his smile is everything. All that hope and appreciation aimed in my direction. Those big beautiful words. He just laid his heart bare in my hands, leaving it there for me to do with it as I please. He put himself out there in a way I never could; in a way I want to. I’m overwhelmed with rushes of pride for how brave he just was for telling me that.
I cup his cheek, because it’s right there, begging to be touched. “Can I kiss you again? A real kiss, tongue and everything. I just need to be sure before I say it back.”
“If you’re not ready?—”
“Bennet?” I interrupt.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“Okay,” he says, his voice hoarse. He presses a chaste kiss to my lips. Just the slightest of close-mouthed kisses, really, but it’s one that makes the earth feel like it’s crumbling around us. When he pulls away, hope’s still strong in his eyes. “You’re sure? About using tongues, I mean. It’s not going to weird you out?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Gripping him by the nape, I pull him right against me, our lips smashing, teeth clashing. I press a hand against his heart, rocking my hips forward. I gasp when I first grind against him, surprised at how electric the touch feels. It’s like someone’s tossed a toaster into the bath with me, and it’s all I can do to hold on to Bennet. The kiss is gentle at first with Bennet slowly sucking my bottom lip, occasionally nipping at it with his teeth. He’s got one hand on my hip when his tongue slips in, twirling it with mine as his nails dig deeper into my skin.
Fuck. I didn’t know it could be like this. I didn’t realize just how strong our bond really is. Nothing about the kiss feels weird. Nothing about the way he’s touching me feels wrong. Because this is Bennet. My Bennet. I’ve got my knee between his legs, and when he thrusts against me, I realize he’s just as into this as I am.
As his tongue twists with mine, he’s making all these little, broken sounds. Cries and whines I’ve heard before, usually while he’s bent over, face inches from mine, riding our Daddy’s cock. I want that again. I need to see Bennet being fucked into oblivion, but with this new component present. His pain and pleasure have always fueled me in the moment, but now, those feelings will be palpable. Being able to kiss him like this, I’ll be able to swallow his pain into myself. To drink down the whimpers each time one escapes.
His hand slides down my back, skirting dangerously close to my ass. His tongue is working faster now, licking every inch of my mouth like he’s trying to create a mental snapshot he can revisit anytime he wants.
“Can I touch your butt?” he asks, his breathing heavy.
I take his bottom lip between my teeth and playfully tug. My lips close around it, kissing away the pain before I break the kiss. “You can touch me anywhere.”
“Okay. Yeah. Thanks, Benji.”
I crinkle my nose playfully. “Happy to be of service.”
His hand slips lower, almost painstakingly slow. Wanting to speed the process along, I reach behind me and place my hand on top of his, guiding him to his goal. Once his hand is on me, his eyes widen, and his mouth falls open. “Jesus.” His grip tightens, and he jiggles a cheek up and down a few times, staring at me, looking mesmerized. “Your butt is so soft, Benj.”
“You’ve felt my butt thousands of times,” I point out.
“Yeah, but this is different. I wasn’t thinking of doing stuff to it before.”
“What kind of stuff? Because I’ll be honest—I kind of want you to do stuff to it. All the stuff.”
He leans down and gives me another kiss, but it doesn’t last long enough for my liking. “Do I get to finger you now? Is that something that comes with the boyfriend role?”
Each time he calls me his boyfriend, it feels like there are butterflies swarming around inside my heart. It’s such a silly thing to get hung up on, but I can’t help it. Bennet Anderson is my boyfriend. My best friend. My other half.
“Finger it. Taste it. You could even fuck me if you ever wanted to try. I don’t mind, Bennet. Honest.” I know it’s a sore subject for him, just as it is for me. Neither of us have ever even tried to top, because of our size. We’ve talked about it a couple of times, and for both of us, it comes down to being worried our dicks won’t be enough, and fear of being laughed at for even asking a lover to let us try. “We can do whatever we want together. All the stuff we’ve ever been too ashamed to try, you can try it with me.” He looks genuinely taken aback by it, probably remembering all the sexual wants we’ve discussed in private. Things we never would have dared to ask a boyfriend are now ours for the taking.
“Benji,” he says, his voice soft and small. “I want that.”
I nod. “Me too. Want it so bad it hurts. Should we get naked now?”
“I will if you will,” he says, slowly standing from the bed. I follow along until we’re both face to face, neither of us making a move to undress. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”
I stare down at my lackluster bulge and sigh. “You won’t laugh, will you?”
“I would never.” His fingers are on my hip, the tips dancing lightly against me. His fingers trail lower until they rest at the hem of my shorts. Thank God for Meadows’ non-existent dress code at work, otherwise I would have missed the chance to feel Bennet on my thigh right now, and this is a moment I’d never want to lose. “Maybe . . . maybe you could go first ,though? I’m sorry, Benj. I know I’m supposed to take care of you, but I’m kind of freaking out right now.”
“Do you want to stop? We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable. I’m not in any rush,” I insist, thankful when he shakes his head.
“To hell with it,” he finally says. “If I don’t do it now, I never will.” He slides his hand into the waistband and pushes them down, but I keep my eyes glued to his. He can’t tear his eyes away from mine either. Those big, beautiful blue eyes that just scream, “Bennet Anderson!”
I rest my hand on his thigh, dangerously close to the one place on his body I have little to no experience with. “May I?”
Bennet sucks in a sharp breath. His eyes meet mine, and I’m feeling awestruck because he’s never looked at me like this before. He’s staring at me like I’m the love of his life, and no one should ever stare at anyone with this much intensity.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, you can touch me.”
My hand slides closer to its goal, and when I look down, I almost expect to see him fully erect, but he’s not. That’s okay. He’s feeling things out, same as me. I’ll get him there, I know it. I curl my hand around his cock, eating up the needy sounds he makes as I stroke him.
There’s warmth pouring from his lap, making it feel like I’m reaching inside an oven. Good. I want him to melt away all the resistance still lingering in me, so I can experience Bennet fully.
Bennet’s cock is perfection in its purest form. Small like mine, but so fucking adorable I almost can’t stand it.
We both stare as my hand works his shaft, wide eyes, hearts racing. “Oh, my God,” one of us whispers, but I honestly don’t know which of us said it. He fits me so perfectly, like his dick was custom-fitted to my hand. Slowly, I massage his balls with the tips of my fingers, stroking my thumb along his flaccid shaft.
“You’re really doing it,” he says. “You’re touching my dick.”
“I am,” I agree, almost in a daze. “You feel good, Bennet.”
He closes his eyes and leans his head back until he’s facing the ceiling. I’m close to chalking this up as a colossal failure, but right before I pull away, he gasps.
“Fuck, yeah. Benji, you feel so goddamn good.” As if wanting to prove the words to me, his shaft thickens in my palm, rising and swelling until it’s standing up straight, and I’ve got my fingers wrapped around it. He thrusts forward, fucking into my hand, but his body goes stiff and he stops moving. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
I shake my head. “It’s okay, I want you to. Just roll your hips. It’s okay, Bennet. Fuck my fist.”
Slowly, he rocks forward, giving me his cock. Giving me his fucking soul. The way his dick keeps poking in and out of my fist makes it feel like we’re playing the world’s sluttiest round of peekaboo. He’s trying to grind against me, but I’ve got other plans.
“Turn over,” I say.
“Huh?”
“Get on your knees and turn around.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to do stuff to your butt.”
His eyes widen, and he rises off the mattress until we’re face to face, our noses touching. “Are you gonna fuck me, Benji?”
My cock aches when he says the word, and I’m leaking like crazy. I press my lips against his, loving the way his hand feels as it grips my ass. I shake my head. “Gonna stick my tongue in your butt.”
He quickly lowers himself down until he’s on his knees, gifting me the sight of his hairless ass. It’s just as pale as the rest of him, and there are little freckles dusted across the top. “Stay there,” I say in a voice I don’t think I’ve ever made before. It’s husky and raw and almost guttural. His body goes stiff in front of me, and when I’m right behind, I bring my mouth to his neck, softly sucking his vanilla-scented skin. He lets out a whimper that’s feminine and wild, making my cock twitch. Since I’m right behind him, it’s straining between his cheeks. I reach between us and angle it so it’s facing upward, pressing into his crack.
“Oh, God,” he cries, grabbing my hand and holding it against his chest. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”
“Yeah?”
He nods frantically. “Yeah. Grind against me a little. I just wanna feel you.”
“How’s this?” I roll my hips forward, sinking lower into his crack. After an obscene moan, he falls forward on his hands, arching his back, giving himself to me completely. Wanting to tease him a little, I graze his hole with my cockhead, leaving a trail of pre-cum in my wake.
“Oh, fu-u-uck,” he groans, making me twitch, my cock grazing his entrance again. He pushes back against me, fucking gasping for it. His ass is so thick, I’m able to press the cheeks together, making my cock disappear from view. A magic trick to show Dad one day, maybe. I’m thrusting slowly, enjoying the moans and whimpers I’m pulling out of him.
“Benji, please.”
I don’t know what the fuck he’s asking for, but I’ll bust out every move I know if it gets him what he’s wanting. Releasing the hold I’ve got on his cheeks, I pull my cock out of his crack and take it in my hand, stroking slowly. His hole is right in front of me, soft and pink, slicked wet with my pre-cum. I drag my cock against it a few more times, watching him come undone against the bed. He’s writhing and wriggling like mad, and I want more of that. More of him belonging to me. More of him going fucking feral on me.
I press a hand down on his back.
“Anything I want, right? That’s what you said.”
“Anything,” he moans. “Everything.”
With his permission, I kneel down and lick a stripe from the base of his balls to the peak of his crack. As I travel across his hole, his body stiffens. His crack is slick with leftover saliva, but his entrance doesn’t look as wet, so I know I need to remedy that. I flatten my tongue as I lick him again, wanting to cover as much area as possible. Reaching between his legs, I take his cock in my hand and stroke him from behind.
“Oh my God. Benji-Benji-Benji. You gotta slow down. I can’t—I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last,” he pleads, and reluctantly, I release his dick. I’m not ready for this to end, either. I want it to go on forever.
I press a finger against his entrance, pushing gently. Thankfully, Bennet seems hellbent on the idea, because he rocks back against me, taking my finger into himself by brute force.
Oh my fucking God. He’s so warm inside. He fits around me like a glove, and I kind of get why Tatum’s husband insists on finger-fucking him ninety percent of their waking hours. It’s such a strong connection, being engulfed by the man you love.
Shit.
I guess I do.
I’m in love with him. My Bennet. He’s my everything, and the realization that I can have this new part of him, and I’ll never have to give it away, is like an awakening. I need him to know how much this moment means to me. I don’t want him to ever doubt how much I love him.
“Turn around, baby. On your back. I want to make you come like this, but I want to see you. I need to see it happen so I know it’s real,” I insist. He quickly whirls around, and once he’s on his back, I wrap a hand around his shaft, awestruck when I realize he feels familiar here, too. It feels like I’m stroking myself. He might have half an inch on me, but the girth is exactly the same. Wanting more, I loosen the grip I’ve got on him, ignoring the needy whines that leave him. He stops whining when he sees what I’m doing. With wide eyes, he watches me press my cock against his and wrap my fingers around both of us. “I want you to come on my cock. Okay?” He’s biting his lip, too nervous to answer, probably. That’s okay. I know Bennet by heart, and I can tell from the look in his eyes, he’s on board. I stroke us slowly, my eyes glued to a drop of pre-cum that’s formed at the tip of Bennet’s dick. I run a finger across the head, collecting the droplet for myself. I’ve never tasted him before, and now, the thought of going another second without knowing Bennet Anderson’s flavor feels impossible.
I lick the droplet from my thumb and am immediately rewarded with what tastes like love, sunshine, and home. It’s sweet with just the hint of tartness, just like Bennet himself. As I stroke us with one hand, I chase his flavor long after it’s gone.
“You’re mine. You’re mine, Bennet, from here on out.” I’m stroking with everything I’ve got, and the slick friction is so loud I wouldn’t be surprised if it woke up Nate. Good. Let him come and find us. Let him see what we’ve got to offer, and then he can offer himself to us in return.
The longer I stroke us, the more feral Bennet becomes. He’s all over the place, gasping and grunting for air as his arms flail at his sides on the mattress.
“Please,” he begs. “Please make me come, Benj. I’m so close.”
“I’ve got you, Bennet. Come for me. Come on my cock. Wanna feel you covering me.”
“Oh fuck. Fuck. Benji, I-I’m gonna . . .” His head falls back and he lets out a moan that could put a porn star to shame. Since there’s no pre-cum left for me to swallow, I bring my saliva-slick thumb between his cheeks and slide into him, making him gasp. He wriggles, trying to get used to the sensation. “You feel so good inside me, baby. Jesus. I didn’t know. We could’ve been doing this for years.”
Pulling my thumb out, I replace it with my index and middle fingers, scissoring him open. I love the way he feels around me, and I’m tempted to tell him no one ever gets to prep him again, because this is my job now. Getting his hole ready for our future daddy is going to be my responsibility.
“I love you,” he says, slamming his ass back and forth against my fingers, taking me so fucking well. “God, Benji, I love you so fucking much.”
“Yeah, baby. I love you too. Come on, now. Come for me. I’ve got you.”
I stroke us faster as he focuses on fucking himself on my fingers. The heads of our cocks are turning a dark shade of red, and I know he’s just as close as I am. I’m going to make him come. I’m the reason for this orgasm, and it sends a possessive surge through me.
“No one ever gets to touch you again. Just me. Just Nate. Say it.”
“I swear. Oh, God, fuck, Benji, I swear. I’m yours. I promise. I promise, I just—Oh . . .” The bed is squeaking so loud we’ll probably get noise complaints from the neighbors tomorrow, but I don’t give a fuck. I want Bennet to scream. Want him to beg and plead and cry loud enough to wake up Dad, because I want him to know what’s happening in this room. The depraved acts his surrogate sons are getting up to just a few feet away.
“Nate’s going to fuck you one day. I swear. I’m going to make it happen. I promise, Bennet.” My finger brushes against his prostate with each thrust, and he’s mumbling words that I can’t understand.
“Nate,” he moans. “Fuck. I want that. I want him to fuck me. Want him to fuck you. He’s our—Baby, he’s our . . .”
“Say it,” I insist, sliding a third finger inside him. “Tell me.”
“Because he’s our Daddy!” he cries, and the moment the word is out, his orgasm hits, jet after jet of white, steamy cum landing on his soft skin. A little lands on my lip. Another shot hits him on the chin. Then it rains down on his torso like a tropical storm. Sliding my fingers out of his ass, I scoop his load into my palm and slather it on our dicks. He’s all over me. Every inch of my shaft is drenched. I tighten my grip, holding onto his softening cock for all I’m worth. I don’t want it to slip out of my hand. I want to hold it every second of every day, from here on out.
“I’m gonna come,” I say, and the smile that splits his sleepy face is enough to push me over the edge.
He stares up at me, wonderstruck, as I explode, shooting the most intense load I’ve ever had. The first shot hits Bennet on the face, and he traces his mouth with his tongue, collecting the bit that landed next to his lips. He purrs at my flavor, and the sound makes the next few spurts feel like explosions. A controlled demolition of any resistance left in me toward this thing between us.
I stroke myself long after I’ve stopped coming, not wanting to lose this moment with him. “I love you,” I whisper when I finally pull my hand away. It’s coated in cum, and because of the friction, it looks almost frothy. I want to give Bennet what Nate gave me yesterday and this morning. The knowledge that he’s safe. That he’s always safe with me. I slather it across my hip, wearing Bennet the way Dad wears me. Patting my hip, I beam at him. “Now you know you’re safe.” I lean down, kissing his forehead. “As long as I’ve got you on me, nothing’s ever gonna hurt you.” I trail kisses down the bridge of his nose, pausing at his chin long enough to lick the cum clean. His taste is potent. Strong, musky, and maybe a little sour, and I think I want to guzzle it by the gallon. Just walk around with a water bottle filled with my Bennet’s load so I can snack on him at my leisure.
“Did you mean it?” I ask once he’s finally steadied his breathing. “About Nate being our Daddy. Is that how you see him now?”
He nods. “Yeah.” He wraps an arm around my back and pulls me down against him. I’m coating him in even more of his own cum, making an absolute mess of us both, but he doesn’t seem to mind. His fingers dance along my spine, occasionally pausing to give me a tickle. “Do we really get to have this now? Like . . . no going back?”
“Never going back,” I agree. I scoot closer until I’m cradled at his side.
“Good.” He tilts his head to capture my mouth with a kiss, his tongue gently caressing mine. We kiss for what feels like hours, and I know there’s a chance I’ll probably catch his cold from it, but I don’t care. This kiss is worth everything.
When we finally pry ourselves apart, I say, “It feels wrong without him here,” because it does. I didn’t expect it, and I don’t know why it feels as strong as it did with Bennet, earlier, but it’s here, right in the middle of my heart. A tiny, Nate-shaped hole.
“He’s tired, Benj.”
“I know,” I agree, nodding. “I just miss him. We hardly spent any time together since I got back, and I don’t want him to feel left out.”
He chuckles, his fingers twitching, tickling my side. “You were pretty busy being my horny boy, I’m sure he’ll understand.” Bennet studies me for a moment, lost in his head. I wait for some indication of what he’s thinking, and thankfully, he doesn’t make me wait too long. He grabs his phone and brings up the camera app. “If you’re really torn up about it, we could do something to make up for it.”
I arch an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”
He grabs his phone from the nightstand and brings up his camera. “Do you think you can go again?”
“Baby,” I say, waggling my eyebrows. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”