Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
Thomas warmed up their spaghetti carbonara and kept on at Scott to eat every bite. Scott had gained back the use of his limbs, but they ached and throbbed like he’d put himself through a brutal workout, or more accurately, Thomas had put him through one.
“Is there enough footage to use…before I, you know, fainted?”
Scott had never fainted before, and it irked him that he had, like it was a failure. He was supposed to be good at sex, and yet the force of his own orgasms had knocked him out.
Thomas narrowed his eyes. “You do know that wasn’t your fault, right?”
“I couldn’t handle it.”
“No. I pushed you too far.”
Scott shrugged. “It’s the same thing.”
“It’s not, please tell me you know it’s not.”
Scott looked away.
“That was my fault, I got too…”
“Too what?”
Thomas shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. We got plenty of footage. I’ll edit it tomorrow while you rest up and recover.”
“You’re making me feel like a toddler.”
“You’re probably as weak as one right now.”
Scott forked a piece of pasta. “I will throw this at you.”
“Is that you trying to prove you’re not a toddler or confirming you are one?”
“Ha. Funny.” Scott shook his fork in a threat, not intending to launch the pasta at Thomas, but it shot at him nonetheless and slapped his cheek. It slipped down his face and onto his lap while Thomas’s nostrils flared.
“Shit,” Scott blurted, twisting on his chair in an attempt to speed up his getaway. A couple of steps and his cramping thighs dropped him to his knees. He caught himself on his hands before he face-planted on the tiles.
Arms wrapped around him and pulled him off the floor. Thomas dragged Scott back to the table and sat him on his lap. “For that, I’m going to feed you the rest like a damn toddler.”
“And what if I shake my head and refuse to eat it?”
Thomas slid a hand beneath Scott’s T-shirt, dragged his nails up his skin and pinched a nipple. Scott jerked, mouth falling open in shock. His gaze locked on to Thomas, and he was transfixed by the lime green of his irises.
He’d been looking up at them when he fainted; he was suddenly certain of it.
“That’s it.” Thomas poked his tongue out at the edge of his lips. “Nice and wide for me. I’m not leaving until you finish every scrap.”
He stabbed a piece of pasta with his fork and pushed it into Scott’s mouth. Scott’s gaze never left him as he closed his lips around the fork and pulled off the pasta.
Thomas circled his nail around Scott’s nipple as he chewed. The shivers it created had Scott’s eyes slipping shut, and his cock began filling out.
“Good…now swallow for me.”
Scott did. He got the urge to open up to show that it was gone, and he waited full of nervous energy for Thomas to spear another piece for him.
Thomas looked away from him to do just that, then held it to Scott’s mouth. Scott didn’t take it until Thomas pinched his nipple, whimpering as he leaned in.
Thomas’s gaze scorched the side of his face as he chewed and swallowed. The nervous energy inside Scott manifested in a leg bounce that Thomas noticed.
Thomas dropped his hand from Scott’s chest, exhaling as he did. “We shouldn’t be doing this…”
“What?” Scott replied as innocently as he could.
“You know what. I shouldn’t touch like that when the camera isn’t rolling, particularly when you’re still receptive to my charms.”
“This is you being charming?”
“It’s me being greedy when I know better.”
“What if I want you to be greedy with me?”
“This” — he slid his hand onto Scott’s concealed cock. Scott moaned and winced, which seemed to be the expected reaction from Thomas, who raised his eyebrow – “needs a break, and pulling on your nipples, no matter how much I love your reaction, isn’t going to give it one.”
He pushed Scott from his lap, and Scott grabbed his chair to collapse onto, darting a curious look at Thomas’s crotch.
It was unfair that he was so reactive to Thomas when Thomas seemed completely unfazed by him.
He wanted Thomas to be turned on by him.
He wanted to be able to give Thomas one orgasm when Thomas had given him so many.
Thomas pushed his knife and fork together on the plate, having finished his portion. “Did you like it?”
Scott hummed, looking down at his pasta. “It’s super creamy.”
“I wasn’t talking about the food.”
“Oh…I guess I liked it.”
Thomas cocked his head. “Why are you guessing? Either you liked it or not.”
“Well, I came lots of times.”
“But?”
“It’s…confusing, like being torn apart.” Scott grimaced.
“That sounds too brutal. The build-up feels so good, but there’s always an element of fear knowing what is on the other side, and then the orgasm comes and you forget all about that fear because it’s only pleasure, but when it fades, you remember why you’d been fearful in the first place.
It hits you like an electric shock.” He took a sip of water. “I’m probably making no sense.”
“It makes sense. I get to see it all play out on your face.”
“And when it’s hurting, there’s a determination too, like I know I can get through it, and once I do it’s a relief, and…and…”
“And?”
“Pride…pride for you. I’m proud I did it for you.”
Thomas lifted his brow.
Scott shook his head. “There’s too much going on to think straight, and knowing it’s going to keep going, happening, until you stop it is both hot and terrifying.”
Thomas licked his lips and spread his legs beneath the table.
“The last thing I remember was looking up at you,” Scott mused before sipping his water again. “You were this fixed point above me, the only thing I could hold on to, then nothing.”
“You were already exhausted by that point, and you came pretty damn hard before you fainted.”
“You mean, you made me come hard…”
Thomas whipped his tongue out again. “Yes.” He slipped down his chair slightly. “I should’ve…eased off, but I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I got selfish, possessive even. I wanted to see you shatter into a million beautiful pieces, and you did.”
“I don’t remember that final time.”
“I know, you were gone before you got to enjoy it. I wanted to give you that one for free, but it was too much for you.”
“You were holding me. I know that.”
Thomas stood up abruptly and began clearing the table. Scott forced himself up on weak legs to follow him to the dishwasher. He had his glass in hand, as if intending to put it in the machine.
“Did you like what you saw?” Scott whispered.
Thomas stooped over to put their plates in the rack. “I thought that was implied by the beautiful pieces part.”
“I love it when you call me beautiful.”
Thomas stiffened. “It’s only when you’re like that, out of your mind with the pleasure and pain of multiple orgasms that I get to control.”
“Does it…you know, turn you on to see me like that?”
Thomas huffed at the dishes. “It doesn’t matter whether it does or –”
“It matters to me.”
“Scott…”
“It’s a simple enough question.”
“Yes,” Thomas admitted with his back to Scott. “It affects me too.”
“You don’t get relief, though.”
“I’m more than capable of sorting myself out.”
Scott placed his glass on the side.
“That’s not going to wash itself, you know?” Thomas grunted.
“Thomas…” Scott murmured.
“What?”
Scott lowered himself to the floor, his thighs burning as he knelt.
Thomas braced both hands on the counter, not looking.
“I can help you get it,” Scott whispered.
“Jesus, Scott.”
“I want to do something nice for you.”
Thomas snorted bitterly. “You could put that glass in the dishwasher.”
“Why won’t you turn around?”
“Because you don’t sound like my Scott anymore. You sound like the Scott I heard when you were with that man…your client.”
Scott bit his lip. “I…that’s not –”
“I’m going to turn around and leave the room, and we won’t ever mention this again.”
Humiliation warmed Scott’s cheeks. His shoulders were heavy, and he looked solemnly at the tiles. The rejection stung. Thomas’s assumption of being viewed as a client hurt.
“That’s probably for the best,” Scott whispered.
Thomas turned around.
Scott tensed, expecting to be knocked onto his arse when Thomas stormed out.
He waited, staring at Thomas’s feet, watching his toes curl.
“You reek of sex.”
Scott looked up at Thomas’s rough voice. He frowned, a little pissed by the insult. Thomas’s face was unreadable.
“Whose fault is that?”
“Mine,” Thomas replied, gripping Scott’s chin. “It’s my fault you smell of sweat, lube and come.”
Scott narrowed his eyes. “You like it. That’s why you wouldn’t let me shower.”
“It’s one of the reasons…”
“You like that there’s knots in my hair, and my dick is red again, and that I’m aching on the inside.”
“Course I do.”
“And you like me on my knees in front of you.”
Thomas swallowed. He let go of Scott’s chin. “I’m not sure how I feel about that…”
“You haven’t left.”
“No. I haven’t.” He clenched his jaw. “I should –”
“The door’s right there. I’m not stopping you.”
“Oh, but you are… Why did you have to get down on your knees?”
Scott twitched his eyebrows. “I wanted to.”
“But why?”
“I wanted to make you feel good.”
Thomas swiped his thumb against Scott’s bottom lip, then pushed it into his mouth. Scott gripped Thomas’s wrist in both hands and suckled the digit, giving his most appealing eyes to Thomas. It was an automatic response, immediate.
Thomas glared down at Scott. “Stop doing that.”
Scott spoke around Thomas’s thumb in his mouth. “Doing what?”
“You think you can manipulate me…”
Scott frowned. It wasn’t manipulation. He wasn’t trying to coerce Thomas into unzipping his jeans. He wanted to give something back after taking so much.
Thomas touched Scott’s frown lines with his free hand until Scott relaxed his expression. “Surely you don’t actually want to do that to me?”
Scott gripped Thomas’s thumb with his teeth and nodded vehemently.
“Me?” Thomas repeated, narrowing his eyes to dangerous slits. His nostrils flared, and he swiped his forked tongue across his bottom lip. “Me?”
Scott released Thomas’s thumb. “You.”