Chapter 9 #4
I slide my finger in farther, going slow and pausing whenever he twitches.
I want him incoherent with pleasure, and that’s my sole job tonight.
I find the spongy little nub and crook my finger, rubbing over it.
He cries out loudly, and his whole body stiffens as his cock spills clear drops of fluid onto his flat belly.
His hand snaps out and catches mine. “Yes?” I ask.
His eyes open. “More,” he whispers. “Give me more.”
I quickly add another finger, continuing to open him up and tickling his prostate just enough to excite and not enough to make him come.
He’s young, so his refractory period will be short, but I want him to come for this first time on my cock.
The possessiveness in that thought is disturbing, so I push it away, focusing on driving him mad instead.
Soon his legs are spread wide, and he’s shoving himself down on my fingers as I add a third.
His body gleams with sweat, and I can smell the heat on his skin.
A litany of moans and grunts comes from him, and just as I can feel he’s about to come, I pull out my fingers, uttering low noises of consolation when he curses.
“I want you to come when I’m inside you,” I growl, grabbing a condom. After sliding it on, I take a deep breath and grip my dick at the base hard, letting the bite of pain stabilise me. I’ve been so focused on his pleasure that my own snuck up on me.
When I’ve calmed, I find him watching me intently with a strange look on his face.
“You okay?” I ask. “We can stop if you want.”
Instead of answering me, he widens his legs more.
He makes for an erotic sight on my sheets, and I swallow hard.
Knee walking up the mattress, I settle between his legs and notch my cock against his opening.
He immediately walks his feet up my chest, resting his toes against my pecs.
My nipples pebble and then I take a breath and slide into him, smoothly, easily.
There’s no sign of hesitation from him now and he gives a long groan as I bottom out. His hands are like claws on my arms as I pause, letting him get used to the stretch.
“Okay?” I ask again.
He nods. His tongue is between his teeth, and his gaze fixes on the space between us. I suck in a breath as I see my cock, purple and glistening, slowly push back inside him.
I steady myself, setting one hand on his chest, his nipple trapped between my fingers, and the other resting on the bed and holding my weight. Then I start moving, thrusting in a steady, forceful movement.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his fingers clutching mine on his chest. The grip is so strong that my fingers hurt. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” I promise, increasing the force of my movements now that I know he’s okay.
“Harder,” he gasps, his head falling back into the pillows and his eyes squeezing shut. “I want you to wreck me.”
I grab his thigh and shove it to the side, opening him up more.
My thrusts are so hard that they’re moving the bed, and the headboard bangs against the wall.
Xavier flings his arms wide, and his hands seize handfuls of the sheets until his knuckles gleam white, choked whines and breathy groans issuing from his mouth in a steady stream.
I can hear my own breaths punching out of me as I continue to bottom out and pull back again. Xavier’s cock bounces on his flat stomach, and I reach in to touch it, but he shakes his head, his face squeezed up.
“Don’t need it,” he gasps out.
“Oh my god, can you come without it?” Sweat drips from my face to his skin, and I wonder that it doesn’t sizzle like water on a hot griddle.
I redouble my efforts, pushing his legs up onto his chest and angling my body as I shove into him so I’m rubbing over his prostate constantly while my belly rubs his cock.
“Ungh. Oh fuck,” he shouts out, and I watch in awe as come pulses from his dick, splattering over his belly and chest while I slam into him, abandoned, all caution gone.
“Are you alright?” I manage to say. “I can pull out if you want.” I groan when he pulls me down onto him so I fall onto his chest. His legs immediately wrap around my back.
“Don’t go,” he whispers.
I thrust a few more times, and then he cups my arse, pulling me tighter. The feeling of his fingers leaving bruises sends lightning travelling down my spine, and I shout out as I come into the condom, filling it as my hips knock into him once, twice, and then finally slow.
We clutch each other, sweaty bodies sliding together as he presses kisses to my neck and face while I hug him tight, sucking in air.
Eventually, my cock softens, so I grip the condom and I pull out gently. He makes a soft sound of distress, and I kiss him.
“Alright?” I ask, gently petting his hole.
He doesn’t reply. I quickly knot the condom and toss it in the nearby bin, and then breathe out a relieved sigh when I lie back and he cuddles into me.
As our breathing slows and my skin cools, reality begins to push back against my euphoria. After gently easing away from him, I sigh and rub my face. “I’m pretty sure I should be recriminating myself heavily right now,” I say wryly.
He laughs, and it’s loud and so bright that I can feel it echo in my chest. “Your après sex chat could definitely use some work.” He rolls into me again, and despite everything, my arm still comes down around him, dragging him close.
He throws one leg over my thigh and nestles his face into my neck.
His hair brushes my face. It seems to smell of sunshine. “Do you regret it?” he whispers.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Oh dear. Somehow I know that doesn’t mean anything positive.”
Something about the wry tone makes me laugh and he snuggles in closer.
“I can have no regrets and still know we shouldn’t have done it,” I say when the laughter fades.
“Did you enjoy it though?” he asks, his head raised, his face suddenly solemn.
I raise my hand to his face, tracing the freckles until his nose twitches. “You know I did.”
He subsides. “Then why can’t we just carry on doing it until you go away?”
“It isn’t that simple. Jez is my best friend, and you are his son.”
He huffs. “An accidental one.”
“A beautiful one,” I say forcefully. “Please don’t ever call yourself an accident again.
You are so much more than the circumstances of your birth.
” He stares at me with an arrested expression, and I sigh.
“I don’t know how to keep away from you.
” The words aren’t planned and come tumbling out of me.
Instead of being triumphant as I expect, he just shrugs and lays his head on my chest again. “Then don’t,” he says simply.
We lie silently for a while, his finger tracing the hair on my chest. It tickles, and I grab his hand to stop him. He drops a kiss on my nipple and comes up on his elbow, his hand still held firm in mine. “What?” I say warily.
“What was the last photo you took?”
I stare at him, this beautiful boy in my bed. He’s the worst thing I’ve ever done—so wrong in all the ways I could count—and yet still possibly the rightest thing I’ve ever felt. As if my whole life, I’ve been waiting for a blond boy to stroll into a hotel bar and stun me with his sassiness.
I open my mouth to fob him off, but what comes out is an honesty I’ve never given anyone else in this world. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “And I should remember, because I don’t think I’ll ever photograph anything again.”
His face clouds with concern. “What do you mean?”
I shake my head. “I can’t use my camera at the moment. Whenever I try, my hands shake so badly I can’t hold the camera.”
His eyes are steady, with no judgement and zero drama. I appreciate that more than he will ever know. “Why?”
“I don’t know.”
He strokes my cheekbone with his fingertips, tracing the thin skin and dipping into a scar made by some shrapnel years ago. “Maybe you should try taking a picture of something beautiful for once, then.”
“That’s not always possible in the areas I visit.”
He lowers his head onto my chest, and my arms band around him, holding him tight. I feel rather than hear his sigh, and then he says quietly, “Then maybe you should visit some other areas and find your beauty, eh, Reuben?”
I take a breath. “While we’re on the subject of advice, I need to say something.”
He snorts. “When don’t you?”
I smile. “It might be good to try to get to know Jez. I know why you don’t particularly want to at the moment,” I add quickly. “But this is almost a place out of time for you and him. As soon as the funeral is done, we’ll be going back to Afghanistan.”
His body stiffens, and I slide my hand comfortingly up and down his back. The skin is like silk, and I can feel the softness of his genitals against my legs and the gentle puffs of his breath against my throat.
“I cannot guarantee that we’ll come back.
” I tighten my grip as he looks up at me.
In the moonlight filtering through the curtains, his eyes are huge and glossy like opals, and I cup his face in my palm.
“I can never guarantee that,” I whisper.
“This isn’t something I’m using to persuade you, yes?
” He nods reluctantly. “It is just a simple fact. This could be your chance to know him and have him answer any questions you might have. You don’t have to call him papa and talk about your childhood, but if you eventually decide you don’t want to open the door to a future relationship with him, then you can properly close it and go on with your life.
There is nothing worse than regrets,” I finish, and there’s a world of hard-won truth in my voice.
He traces one finger across my collarbone, his face focused on the movement of his hand. Then he looks up. “You want me to do that?”
I nod. “I’d like to know that you’ll leave here without any questions he could have answered for you. It would be even nicer if you end up actually liking each other. Not love,” I clarify. “Maybe just liking. Life is too short for regrets with your parents.”
He eyes me solemnly and then inclines his head rather regally. “I will do that for you.”
“It mustn’t be for me. You should do that for yourself.”
He shrugs and doesn’t reply. Instead, he lowers himself onto me, his body hot. “I wish we had more time,” he whispers. “We only have another day.”
I can’t stop the way my arms tighten around him.
I’d forgotten that. How utterly ridiculous and completely unlike me.
Tomorrow we will go our separate ways. When I first met him in the bar, I’d seen him as a one-shot deal.
A way to ease some stress in my body and then move on to the purpose of the weekend.
He’s now become the purpose, and I can’t see him as that casual fuck, no matter how hard I keep trying to fit him back into that box.
He’s a person whom I really like. I like his courage, his resilience, his quick brain, and his even quicker tongue.
I like the way he makes me feel alive and not as if I’m entombed in a prison that I made for myself years ago.
In a strange way, it feels like I already knew him when I met him.
I think of that strange feeling of recognition when I met him.
“If you could stay longer, would you?” I ask.
He hums and kisses my neck, burrowing his head there and inhaling deeply. “Yes,” he says simply, and the truth is clear in his voice. He wriggles a bit. By now, I’m understanding that he’s a bit of a fidget. “Thanks for the sex, Roo.”
“Oh my god, no.”
“Say it. I know you want to.” He pinches me until I jerk. “Go on.”
I give a deep sigh that probably doesn’t conceal my amusement. “You’re welcome, Xavi.”
He chuckles and after a minute his body relaxes and slackens against me so that I feel the moment he passes into sleep. I should be waking him, getting him dressed, and sending him off with a lecture. Then I should pack and run away as fast as my fucking legs will carry me.
Instead, I tighten my grip on him and stare into the moonlit shadows of the room.