Landon
SUSIE WON’T LEAVE ME alone. She drills me constantly, asking about my whereabouts and why I’m being so distant with her, but I can’t very well tell her the truth, now can I?
How am I meant to explain to her that I’m in a spiral I can’t climb out of?
That if I’m not thinking about the good old days when I could just call Julian up for company, and he’d be there, then I’m thinking about the way it felt to be sitting on Nate’s dick, my hole stretched wide and my entire body covered in light as he stared at me hungrily. Angrily. Desperate.
I can’t—I can’t explain this to her. Mostly because I’d then have to explain the darkness I fear I’m sinking into, one long second at a time. And then she’d know about Nate and the revenge I planned.
How I intend to use his body and his soul until he is full of me, only to leave him aching and empty when I go. How I’m enjoying it.
Julian has tried to call me once or twice as well, but I haven’t answered. I’m not ready to hear whatever it is he has to say. I’m not ready for him to tell me I can never speak to him again—or worse—that I’m still his best friend.
Can I stomach best friend? If I see him again, will it kill me?
And this darkness, when will I be able to pinpoint its origin? It’s only heightening every time my phone rings or every time I let my mind wander to that little cottage in Port Orford.
If it hadn’t appeared inside of me so long ago, I would assume it comes from Julian himself, or maybe even Nate. And what’s worse than those two options? The unknown.
Not even my therapist could find a reason. Clinically depressed, just because.
But I did feel good, not that long ago. At Nate’s house, where I was able to speak so freely and act on impulse. Where I didn’t hide a single fleeting emotion. Maybe it comes from hating him; from not caring what he thinks or how he feels. But it’s freeing.
I miss it already. The ability to just be Landon, all while getting my rocks off and luring him right into my trap.
Could I be an evil genius? Potentially.
But he has to work for it. Or rather, wait for it. If I’m too speedy with my plan, he could catch on. Nate isn’t stupid, even if he is an idiot. I guess I can fly to Oregon again in a few weeks? I’m sure that’s enough time.
Until then, I have to stop thinking about it. It’s making everything else feel… harder.
It’s a reminder that I’ve never been truly myself, not even with Julian. And seeing how he eyes that Atlas kid and his sweet, angelic nature tells me I made the right call. Julian never would have loved this side of me. The side that is desperate for a fight, for an argument.
I’m still lying on my bed after a quick dinner with Susie, who’s now on her second date of the week. My room at our condo is a lot smaller than my room at home, but it’s worth it for the independence. To not have my dad breathing down my neck, begging me to man up and join Ocean View already.
I’m debating heading to the gym for the second time today, just to stop wallowing, when my phone starts to ring.
Uncle Benji.
He doesn’t call much—in fact, he keeps to himself most of the time. Working from home, missing various family holidays, and never bothering to marry.
After teaching me a bit about my gift of coercion, he kind of fell off the grid.
“Hello?” I answer, trying to keep my surprise from filtering through my voice.
“Landon,” he greets gruffly. “How are you?”
‘Um, I’m fine.” But my voice is barely audible, all muttery and distant.
“Hm,” he hums, as if to call me a big fat liar. “When do you intend to join Ocean View?”
Good lord! I guess living in the condo can’t save me from every attempt at recruitment.
“Not sure,” I tell him.
“Soon should be the answer. It’s easier to protect yourself when with family.”
That’s rich, coming from him. After my sixteenth birthday, he all but disappeared. Instead of saying so, I just sigh. There is no point in arguing with the man; he will never back down or compromise.
Uncle Benji’s insistence on my protecting myself isn’t new; he’s always been like this. In fact, while he was showing me about coercion, he kept repeating what my father had told me a year prior. That the vultures will someday circle, trying to use me or destroy me.
“I can protect myself just fine,” I finally say, sitting up on my bed as I wait for his response.
“In a fight, sure,” he huffs out. “But Landon, you’re getting older. Your gift is very useful, and you have to safeguard it. Surround yourself with people you trust, and steer clear of anyone showing too much interest in the, uh, special parts of you.”
Uncle Benji is not talking about my dick, even if he’s making this declaration sound like it’s stemming from some private, obscene thing.
“Have you ever experienced it?” I ask, my voice lowering. “Someone showing too much interest, I mean.”
I think of Nate, of how he grilled me over the abilities of my power and where and why I’ve used it. In how he’s so adamant about the morality around it.
“Yes,” he murmurs. “Not personally, but someone once tracked your great-grandfather down and tried to take his gift from him. You have to be careful, Lan.”
Tried to take his gift? I don’t think that’s Nate’s motive. He has a gift of his own, and not only that, but he isn’t particularly fond of mine.
I think he’s pissed that I used it on him—that he was coerced, and he seems to think asking someone to make tea the right way is a great offense.
“Got it.” But I’m not really paying much attention to the rest of the conversation after that leaves my mouth.
I’m thinking about Nate’s gift. How beautiful it was—how it made my whole chest tingle and my pleasure notch higher with every second it surrounded me.
“… don’t you think?” Uncle Benji says, and I startle, gripping my phone a bit tighter as I rub at my temple.
“Sorry, what?”
He sighs. “I said, if you’re feeling a bit scattered, shouldn’t you start taking your medicine again?”
Scattered is how my family says depressed when they don’t want to upset me.
“No,” I insist. “I’m not feeling scattered, Uncle Benji. Plus, those meds make me weird. I’m not taking them again.”
He’s quiet for a long time. Whether he’s thinking of how to persuade me or of something else entirely, I’m uncertain. But I will not take those depression meds again. They sucked.
I turn into a zombie, and they heighten my anxiety. I become overly conscious of every joint in my body; I can feel every muscle move and each breath I take in a heightened sense.
I’d rather have this darkness, this lingering agony living inside of me than have my own body turn against me. It’s not like I’m suicidal, so how bad can I truly be?
Plus, I have moments of reprieve. Like the other night, as I was coming undone while impaled on Nate’s dick.
Oh, wait. Is that the solution? If I keep having regular sex, maybe the darkness will recede more often!
While moving in time with Nate’s body, I was so light, so free, that the darkness couldn’t even touch me.
That’s the answer then. I have cracked the code. I mean, of course I have. I’m brilliant.
Ushering Uncle Benji off the phone, I throw on something nice and get into my car, heading to City Central, the closest club. The one Nate found me at—the one where I hid in a back hallway and punched him in the face.
Good times.
Nate—wait…
Am I… am I obeying him right now? Calling him Nate instead of Nathaniel, even in my own mind?
“You call me Nate or nothing at all,” he had said.
That fucking prick. How dare he boss me around? How dare he do it so well that I listen even as he’s not around to hear it?!
Nathaniel is in for a rude awakening the next time I see him. I’ll call him Nathaniel, and he’ll fuck me anyway. Asshole.
After paying the entry fee, I walk into City Central with my head held high. The fog is licking my loafers, music filling the air as the bartenders call out to each other, and several couples lean against opposing walls as they lock lips and grind against one another.
It’s perfect. Now I just need to find someone to take home.
Eyeing the dancing crowd, I search for a specific kind of man. One who is similar to me in build and height, who looks like they’ll fight me for dominance before bending to my will so beautifully.
And this is California, so it doesn’t take long.
I see him within minutes. A bit into the fray, dancing with some girl—probably a friend of his, if the way they’re dancing is any indication.
They’re laughing and twirling each other around, but not dancing. Not how I’ll be grinding against him soon.
And my eyes must hold a weight—a desire so thick and heady the man can feel it—because he looks up, peering around the room before his gaze collides with mine.
His eyes are brown and big, though hooded as he takes me in.
Hard muscle lines his biceps and his thighs, which are trapped in a tight pair of black slacks.
His chest is stretching the button-up he’s wearing, damn near popping the buttons as he rests his hands on his hips and gives me a slow, easy smile.
Which, of course, is code for come and get me.
Don’t mind if I do!
I head across the room, approaching him within seconds.
“Well, hello there, sweetheart,” he purrs, his blond hair matting his forehead as he cocks his head at me. “Can I help you with something, or do you want to stare all night?”
I can feel the smirk stretching my lips, my body vibrating with tension. “You can definitely help me with something. What’s your name?”
“Phillip,” he replies. “But ‘baby’ is fine.”
“Landon.” I introduce myself, extending my hand. As soon as his warm palm is pressed to mine, I yank him to my chest, whispering in his ear, “But ‘sir’ will do for the remainder of the evening.”
Phillip laughs, the sound resonating through my body and making me tingle all the way down to my toes. It’s a promise of what’s to come.
“Oh, a cocky top, then,” he jokes. “No chance I can get you to change your tune, just for a bit?”
Perfect. Yes, so fucking perfect.
“You can certainly try,” I murmur, running my lips over the shell of his ear.
As I pull back, I take in the excited grin on his face, the way he sways, as if my pulling away is his worst nightmare.
Nathaniel was a certified top, unwilling to budge on the matter. But this guy, Phillip, will give me what I want. He’ll give a fight.
Which, to be fair, Nathaniel also gives me a fight—it’s just a different breed of violence.
“Alright, sir,” Phillip teases, “Let’s find out who wants it more.”
Phillip comes back to the condo since Susie will be out for the night. I take him immediately to my room, where he sheds his shirt in record time and snatches me up, slamming me down onto the bed.
It feels good. The roughness, the violence of the whole thing.
I’m a grown man, and an aggressive one at that, so this feeds some part of me, yet makes me hungrier all the same.
“I want to pound into you until you cry,” he purrs, crawling over my body until he’s sitting right over my dick.
“Greedy,” I chastise. Then, with minimal effort, I grab his hips and flip us, resting my weight over the length of his body. “But I fear it’ll be you who cries tonight, baby.”
Phillip shivers, his hips bucking up and into mine as if he’s trying to throw me off and rub his cock against mine at the same time.
“So fucking hot,” he mutters, digging his fingertips into my ass cheeks. “Not as hot as sinking my hard dick into you, though.”
I grin, rolling my hips over his hard enough to make those brown eyes roll back into his head. “I need to fuck, Phillip, and I need to fuck hard. Can you take that? Can you be a good boy, just for tonight?”
Those eyes of his pop back open, wide and shocked. Then, he’s sitting up until I’m straddling his waist, his hands yanking at my hair.
A soft laugh leaves him. “You almost had me there, Landon.”
“Sir,” I correct him. “You almost had me there, sir.”
He smiles, and the whole expression is full of lust and the promise of something rough and violent.
“Right,” he murmurs, his lips dragging over my jaw. “Sorry, sir.”
“I-it’s alright.” My body is trembling, primed for a quick, hard fucking as I rock against him.
“You sure you want to top?” he asks. “Because from where I’m sitting, you look ready to bounce on something thick and hot.”
Oooh, my favorite words. I’m like a dog hearing the word treat for the first time in days.
Pressing my hand to his chest, I shove him back onto the bed. But Phillip doesn’t startle—it’s as if he was anticipating it. Like he’s played this game before.
“I think you’ve become my new favorite plaything,” I tell him, reaching down to grip his hardened length.
And it’s not bad. Not as big as I am, but still pleasing. It’ll hit right where I need it to at the right angle, filling me up nicely.
“Play with me then,” he demands breathlessly.
“I’m going to bury myself so deep inside of you, you’ll taste me,” I promise. “And next time, you can return the favor.”
Phillip sits on this for a moment, panting beneath me as his eyes shift endlessly from my lips, my hand where it’s gripping him, and my own straining cock locked behind my dress pants.
Finally, he shudders, digging his fingers into my ass cheeks again. “Yes, sir.”
Perfect. I win.
And it feels so good, pounding into his sweet ass as he cries and begs for more. It makes me feel like a god.
Which, to be fair, I can feel from his end too. While I was riding Nate—Nathaniel—I was completely in control. I was his god, even as he shoved his thick cock into me.
But as I explode inside of Phillip, feeling my release push against the condom inside of his straining hole, the darkness does not recede. It does not momentarily disappear, making me feel light and free again.
Not the way it did while I was coming on Nathaniel’s cock as stars exploded around me and his large, greedy hands pulled at my skin.
Maybe being the bottom is the answer. Maybe topping just doesn’t take away the pain.
I guess I’ll have to find out.