9. Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Monty
P ink looks adorable. Sitting in his bed, all swaddled up in a soft beige blanket and cradling a cup of tea.
I’m glad I’ve managed to get him settled in his bedroom. A room I have never set foot in before. In fact, I’ve never been inside any young man’s bedroom. It is awfully intimate.
But it is what it is. It may be awkward for me, but it is comforting for Pink to be in his own space, and that is all that matters.
I watch as Pink takes a sip of his tea. He flashes me a weak smile and my heart flips all the way over. His eyes are still red from crying and his face is a little splotchy. He has never looked more beautiful.
I’m darkly pleased that he freaked out when he thought I had left forever. Being needed and wanted has lit up parts of my psyche I never knew existed. I am deeply horrified at myself. It is monstrous of me to feel this way.
Pink is an achingly vulnerable young man. There is nothing pleasing about him needing to latch onto me. It doesn’t make me special. It has only happened because I’ve been here. A constant, unchanging presence in his life. One that has not been cruel.
Add in the fundamental facts that I am a mage and he is a vessel, a pairing formed in nature, then it is not at all surprising that his wounded mind has formed an attachment.
The very last thing I should be doing is taking glee from it. I absolutely should do nothing to encourage it. All the reasons to keep Pink at a distance and far away from my real life still stand. Nothing has changed. Except every day it gets harder and harder to do.
My fists clench tightly by my sides, blunt nails digging into my palms, and the slight discomfort gives me some focus. Some clarity on what I need to do.
“I’ll leave you in peace,” I say.
Pink’s eyes widen. “Can…can you stay?”
My heart thumps against my ribs. “Of course,” I say, because there is no other answer. Not if he is still feeling anxious. Not if he still needs me. I can resurrect my good intention to leave, just as soon as Pink is feeling calm.
Pink swallows. I watch his throat bob. He licks his bottom lip. My gaze tracks the path of his tongue.
“Actually,” he says softly. “Would you mind emptying me? I know it is a little early.”
Goddess. The most beautiful man in the world is staring up at me with large brown eyes and asking if I would mind having sex with him.
“Of course,” I say again, because I will never say no to Pink.
He places his tea on the bedside table and scrambles out of bed.
“I’ll prepare,” he says as he darts past me and into his bathroom.
The door shuts. Now I am alone in his bedroom. His private space. His sanctuary. Curiosity wants me to pry. To poke around and learn what I can about this man who is so close to stealing my heart.
But I am better than that. Pink deserves his privacy. I can’t help noticing that the room is neat and tidy and that there is an abundance of books. But I’m not going to look any further. Even though he has seen my campervan hundreds of times, and some might say a nosy would only be fair.
However, it doesn’t seem at all the same to me. I love my campervan, but it is my workspace, my office. That I also happen to sleep in. I don’t think of it as private. And even if I did, I wouldn’t mind showing it to Pink. At all.
The bathroom door swings open and Pink steps out. He is wearing a thin, white nightgown. Very similar to a traditional receiving gown. Something he might wear if he truly was my vessel and this was our wedding night.
I can feel my pulse thrumming. Blood is rushing to my cock, but I’m feeling far more than lust. I wish Pink could be mine and the wistful yearning of that hurts. An agony of the soul. An echo of which I can physically feel in my chest.
Pink flashes me another small smile as he makes his way to the bed. He has no idea that I feel every single one of his smiles in my heart. Arrows that bite with what-can-never-be. I’m scarred by them. And still I crave more.
Pink lies on the bed, on his back. Missionary has long become our routine. There are sixty-nine positions good vessels are trained to assume for their husband. I’ll never ask Pink for a single one.
I wonder how many Laurie’s trainer has taken him through.
The dark thought blindsides me and I only just manage to bite back my whimper of dismay. I suck in a shaky breath. Calm. Think calm thoughts.
Laurie has the kindest trainer available. One that is known for using pictures and diagrams and keeping clothes on and not using dildos on his students.
I’ve done the best I can. What really goes on behind closed doors and the sanctity of a training room, no one but the vessel and trainer can ever know. There is nothing to gain by tormenting myself with thoughts of it.
“Monty?” asks Pink with a furrowed brow.
I jump forward as if electrocuted and hastily begin removing my clothes.
“Lost in thought?” Pink smiles fondly.
“Ah yes. A particularly troublesome equation,” I assure him.
His smile deepens. It reaches his eyes. It sets flight to a thousand butterflies within my stomach. Pink thinks I am a sweet harmless geek and I don’t mind at all. I probably do meet the definition of a geek. I try to be sweet. As for harmless, I’m working on that.
I fully divest myself of my clothes and place them on a nearby chair. I turn back to Pink and step towards him. His gaze darts down to my cock. His eyes darken with appreciation. It is enough to make me want to preen.
I climb onto the bed, and Pink spreads his legs to make room for me, so I settle over him. Hands braced on either side of his shoulders. His nightgown has ridden up enough to give me access, as tempting as it is to push the cloth up higher.
“I didn’t put a plug in since you were right here,” says Pink bluntly.
I nod my understanding. I used to love his lack of shyness, but then I realized it wasn’t confidence, it was despondency. He didn’t care enough to be shy.
I stare into his beautiful eyes, and he meets my gaze evenly. I think that despondency has evolved into familiarity and comfort. I hope so, at least. Either way, whatever the root reason, I’m glad he is at ease with me. As much as a vessel can be. Being stripped of magic is bound to be overwhelming.
I hold in my next breath to ground myself. Pink gives me a little nod to let me know he is ready. I take a hold of my cock and line it up to his hole. A gentle push and I’m easing in. Pink always prepares himself thoroughly.
Tight, silken heat engulfs the head of my cock. I can feel my eyes rolling back. By all the gods, that feels good. Slowly, steadily, I apply just enough pressure to slide all the way inside Pink.
Then I pause, holding my hips still. I force my eyes to focus. Pink’s face swims into view. He is still looking up at me. His cheeks are flushed. His pupils are blown and his lips parted.
He gives me another little nod. He knows I will do nothing else until he lets me know he is ready.
I watch him closely as I begin to move my hips. His eyes flutter closed. Then his head tilts back, baring his slender throat to me. I grin in satisfaction.
Then I pick up the pace. Just a little. I have paid great attention to what Pink enjoys. I know the tempo and angle that gives him the greatest pleasure. Nothing gives me greater joy than driving him to ecstasy.
He begins to moan. His body starts to undulate. It is a beautiful sight. I keep the rhythm of my hips steady, just as he likes.
Thrust, glide, thrust.
He is trembling now. So very close. I thrust with a fraction more force and Pink cries out. He clenches around me. His back arches and lifts off of the bed. His cock pumps cum between us. But most precious of all, his hands wrap around my forearms and cling on.
He always releases me long before he comes back to full awareness, so I don’t think he knows that he does it. I adore it. It is precious. The feel of his touch. It is what tips me over the edge into my own peak. I shudder through my orgasm and quickly draw Pink’s magic into myself.
Pink’s hands fall away from me to lie limply on the bed. I wish he could hold on to me for longer. I wish we could sprawl in a tangle of limbs. I wish we could kiss. I long to suck his cock and to lap at his hole.
Things I have never done with anyone. Things I will likely never do, because I cannot imagine wanting to do them with anyone else.
Pink’s eyes flutter open. He seems far more relaxed in his own bed. He is not jumping up to leave. He even looks sleepy. Though that could be the effect of his earlier emotional wobble.
I force myself off of the bed. I’d give anything to collapse next to him and hold him close. But Pink always leaves sharply after I’ve emptied him, so I know he wants me to go.
I pull the covers up to his chin and am rewarded with a happy smile. I smile back at him before quickly throwing my clothes on.
My feet drag as I reach the door. Every part of me wants to stay. But life is not about getting what you want.
I take a deep breath, and I walk away.