Chapter 24 Big Words
The elation I felt when Lane stepped into my room wearing the collar was unmatched.
All the chaos in my head faded and settled into a quiet understanding between us. We both know he’s fucking mine, and no one can come between us—not even Oliver.
After that night, we spent two weeks in utter bliss, where he came to my room wearing his new collar and his butt plug, looking so delicious I couldn’t help but leave bite marks all over his ass and eat his hole until he sobbed into the pillow and begged me to fuck him.
I can never deny him what he wants, especially when what he wants is my cock, so I made him come at least twice before I let him back into Oliver’s room.
Good news: our tests came back negative. I suspected they would, but it’s good to be sure. Now I can fuck him without holding back. I mean, it’s not like I held back before, but it’s even better now that my guilty conscience isn’t spoiling the fun.
So yeah, he’s all mine, and I fucking love it. That’s not to say my jealous tendencies are all gone, though.
One day when I step into the kitchen, I’m met with the view of Lane sitting on a bar stool with his head down. Oliver stands behind him, applying dye to his hair.
A jolt of jealousy pulses through me. I suppose Lane’s roots have needed a touch-up for a while, but I didn’t expect Oliver to be the one to do it.
He could’ve gone to some random hairdresser, or at the very least, he could’ve asked me.
But instead it’s Oliver running his hands through my puppy’s soft locks and telling him to tilt his head.
The irrational desire to tell Oliver off is almost strong enough that I follow the impulse, but I reel myself in.
As I saunter further into the kitchen, Oliver sends me a narrow-eyed look. Lane doesn’t meet my gaze, but his cheeks deepen in color, and his eyes drop to his lap.
“Feeling guilty, puppy?” I want to ask him, but it would hardly align with the agreement to keep Oliver in the dark.
Instead, I let my memories run wild of having him in my bed last night, how he came in my mouth with my fingers stuffed in his cum-soaked ass. I can’t wait for tonight, when I’m going to do it all over again and more. Seems like my puppy needs to be reminded once more of who he belongs to.
I circle the chair he sits on, casually inspecting Oliver’s work.
“You want anything?” Oliver mutters while his gloved hands work the dye into Lane’s hair.
I just shrug and keep watching them. They both ignore me, and after a while, Oliver removes his gloves and taps Lane’s shoulder.
“All done. I’ll set the timer, then you can go rinse it out.”
“When does the raid start again?” Lane asks.
Oliver glances at his phone. “Fifty minutes, so we should be okay.”
While Lane’s in the shower, I busy myself with making lunch: chicken breast and rice. I cover the meal with a liberal amount of hot sauce once I’m done. I eat everything covered in hot sauce—well, everything except my protein shakes.
I sit and scroll job listings while Oliver fucks around in the kitchen drawers, probably planning to cook some Logan-inspired meal again.
By the time I’ve finished eating, Lane emerges from the upstairs bathroom, freshly showered, dressed in his usual oversized black T-shirt and skinny jeans. His newly dyed hair is blow-dried to messy perfection.
I let my gaze travel over him, all subtlety out the window. “Looking good, puppy.”
“Don’t call him that,” Oliver grumbles.
“But he likes it when I call him that. Don’t you, puppy?”
Lane’s cheeks heat furiously, and he refuses to meet my gaze as he grabs a bag of sour candy from the cabinet.
“I’m serious,” Oliver says. “Leave him alone. Stop fucking harassing him.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Harassing him? Big words, Ollie. Are you sure you know what you’re talking about?”
If looks could kill. I just keep grinning as I open the fridge and get out a jug of milk.
I look forward to tasting Lane’s sweet lips after he’s eaten that candy.
I wish I could do it now. What would Oliver say if I just walked right up, grabbed Lane by the waist, and kissed him stupid?
I don’t know. But it would blow our cover, and Lane would be annoyed with me.
He might even be so annoyed he’d reject me, and I can’t have that.
It’s not like I care what Oliver thinks, but I have to remind myself again and again that the issue runs deeper, and that I can’t keep just thinking of my own needs and desires when it comes to Lane. Is it annoying? A little bit. But it’s worth it to keep him by my side.
Oliver’s phone rings. It’s Mom, asking about his college shit again. Oliver scuttles off to his room upstairs, leaving Lane in the kitchen without a word. Crestfallen, Lane stands with a bag of candy in one hand, looking unsure of what to do.
I hate that dejected look in his eyes. It’s all Oliver’s fault for abandoning my puppy.
I would comfort him with words, but I’m not that good with words, and right now, it seems like he could use a distraction.
“No more night-only rules,” I told him a while ago.
This seems like an appropriate time to make good on my promise.
I scoot my chair back, relaxing my wide-legged posture. “Come here, puppy.”
Lane flicks his gaze to me and swipes his tongue over his upper lip. He looks back upstairs, where Oliver’s muffled voice is in deep discussion with Mom. Shit can get long-winded with those two.
Lane swallows. Something determined flickers across his expression, and then, without me having to tell him anything, he puts down the candy bag and drops to his knees.
Fuck, what a sight to see. I swallow thickly, not entirely able to keep my expression neutral, saliva pooling in my mouth at the sight of him crawling toward me on all fours.
He places one hand after the next, eyes locked with mine, his cute little ass swaying as he makes his way across the kitchen tiles.
By the time he reaches my feet, his uncertainty comes back. I need to give him more direction. He craves this from me.
I nod toward my crotch, and Lane settles into his familiar position between my legs, hands folded on his thighs.
The way he looks up at me is enough for my cock to thicken in my sweats.
I suck in a breath, steadying myself. This isn’t for me; it’s for him.
He needs to be guided. He needs a firm hand to tell him what to do so he doesn’t have to think about his worries, even if it’s only for a few stolen moments.
I part my thighs wider, allowing him to nudge his nose into my crotch. “Take a nice long sniff, puppy.”
He inhales deeply, breathing in the musky scent.
“That smell good?”
He lets out an unintelligible little moan, nodding.
I smile. “Thought so. Want a taste?”
Lane bites his lower lip, casting a glance over his shoulder. “Oliver’s upstairs.”
“He’ll be a while.”
“But…”
“Come on. It’s all wet for you.”
He flicks his gaze up, bright eyes shiny with hope. “For me?”
Something heady and thick wells up at the back of my throat as I realize that, yeah, it is for him. The head of my dick is leaking, and it’s all because of him crawling across the floor for me, smelling me, being close.
I reach out to grab a handful of his messy mop of newly dyed hair. “Just a lick. I know you want to.”
He nods. “I want to.”
“Good boy.” With that, I pull down the band of my sweatpants and free my cock. It bounces in front of Lane’s face, nearly smacking his cheek.
He takes another long sniff, eyes closed, before he sticks his tongue out and presses it to my slit.
I hiss through my teeth. Fuck, that feels good. Feels even better to know I have Lane between my legs, submissive and horny enough to be reckless like this. Moaning softly, he surges forward, wrapping his mouth around the head, sucking at it and lapping up the precum.
I pull his head back by his hair in reprimand. “What did I say? Just a lick.”
He looks up at me with pleading eyes. “Can I take it deep, just once? Please.”
My jaw ticks. How can I resist something like that? “Okay, puppy. Go on.”
I struggle to suppress a moan as he pulls my cock back between his lips and dives forward, sucking me into his mouth until the head hits the back of his throat. He holds me there for a second, and when he pulls back, a string of saliva connects his lips to the head of my cock. Fuck, yes.
Just then, there’s the creak of a footstep at the top of the stairs. Lane stands up lightning quick while I tuck my dick back into my sweatpants.
When Oliver emerges at the foot of the stairs, I scoot my chair under the table to hide the obvious bulge in my pants and act like nothing has happened.
“How’s Mom?” I drawl.
“She and Fabio are in Italy now,” Oliver says with a roll of his eyes. “Eating gelato and having a grand old time.”
“Ugh.”
I’ve never met Mom’s new boyfriend, Fabio, and don’t care to meet him if I can help it.
From the way she lights up when she talks about him, I know they’ll be annoying to be around.
I’ll have to get a job ASAP so I can move out, but part of me wants to freeze time and stay the way we are now.
A summer of few responsibilities, with Lane within arm’s reach.
It won’t always be this way; the end of the summer is looming on the horizon, and the end of the summer means the end of mine and Lane’s brief fling.
It was supposed to be, anyway. Now I’m not so sure.
It’s not like I can make him my boyfriend; I don’t do boyfriends, and making him my boyfriend would involve too many risks.
He’d get to know me too well—find out I’m not just controlling in bed, but a jackass all around. A fucking failure of a human being. I can’t put myself through that. It’s better just to end it when the time comes.
When push comes to shove, I’ll have to choose between hurting him or risking him hurting me, and given I’m a selfish piece of shit, it’s not rocket science to figure out what I’ll choose.