Landon #4
“N-no, I…” But I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what I want, outside of him; I just know I need to come.
Nate wraps his fingers around my straining cock, squeezing it as he pumps his fist up and down.
“This is what you need,” he pants out. “And I’m the only one who can give it to you.”
“Oh, fuck. Oh, god. I’m gonna… Nate, fuck!” I explode in his hand, my entire body locking up as I release thick ropes of come all over my stomach, his fingers, and nearly my chin.
I clench around him, feeling it as he stutters to a stop and grinds against my prostate.
“There you go, babydoll. Let it all out. Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.” Nate’s expression is one of pain, but I know it’s the pleasurable kind.
I know because I’m feeling the same thing, and we’re connected now.
“Come inside of me,” I demand. “Come in me, please.”
Using coercion on him here might be a bit unnecessary, considering how close to finishing he looks, but I want to feel that warmth before my own orgasm dies down. I want to experience this euphoria with him.
Nate shudders, groaning out his pleasure as he releases inside of me. “Fuck you. God, fuck, you’re a menace. But it’s so good, so fucking perfect inside of you.”
Hot, thick emotion builds inside of me. He’s filling me up, making me so full and contented that I can do nothing but go boneless and stare up at him as he fucks his come further into me.
“Again,” he pants out. “We’re doing it again. I can’t—ugh, I can’t get enough of you.”
Nate flips me over, pulling my hips up until I’m presented fully to him before shoving back inside of me, thrusting with abandon.
I guess the sweet and gentle method is gone, because all that’s left is his desperation and my own need as we both groan and grind and lose ourselves to one another.
And it truly does feel like claiming, like clicking into place.
Finally.
We spend the entire day like that. With Nate pounding me into the mattress and my dick exploding with unbelievable pleasure.
The sweet, gentle nature he had created in the beginning only lasted so long. As soon as he flipped me onto my stomach, Nate was back to his normal self. And so was I, as I rode him for what felt like forever, edging his next orgasm.
It was fantastic. Life-changing.
Until this morning, that is.
“I’m just saying; it might be good for you,” Nate presses.
“I think I prefer you focusing on my downfall, thanks,” I shoot back, dripping with sass and slight anger.
His eyes narrow, his arms tightening around me where we lie on the bed. The morning sun is peeking in through the curtains as he holds me, both of us on our sides.
“You’re impossible to please. All I meant was that having him as a friend again might lessen some of your stress.” He’s talking about Julian.
I kind of miss when he’d get irritated if I brought him up—at least then Nate wasn’t trying to persuade me into talking things out with him. Or telling him about my, uh, depression.
But he’s also not necessarily wrong, and I do miss my best friend. So as I eye Nate, giving him a disapproving look, I crack.
“Fine,” I sigh. “I’ll go talk to him before he leaves.”
“Better get going then,” Nate instructs, slapping my ass hard, then hopping out of the bed. “I’ll, uh, call you. Alright? In the next few days, I’ll call.”
He seems nervous about something. I can’t tell if there’s something else on his mind or if this weird shift in our atmosphere has him freaked out.
But he’s promised to call, and if he does try to disappear, I know where to find him.
“Whatever,” I grumble, putting my clothes back on as he watches me.
“It’ll be fine,” he assures me, and as I grab the rest of my belongings and give him a long, measured look, I decide he’s right.
He’ll call, after all.
“Later,” I reply gently, leaving him leaning against the kitchenette as I slip out the door.
The shift between us is weird and uncomfortable, even I can acknowledge that. But I like it. I like where we are now. It’s almost like he cares about me. And I believe him.
Maybe now we can move on to something greater. Maybe I can keep him. Maybe he never had an evil agenda I couldn’t understand, and all I was seeing was an overly righteous, annoying asshole with an amazing cock.
I can definitely get behind that.
The sun warms my skin once again as I step out into the daylight, a contented sigh leaving me. And to think I was just mopping, convinced that Nate hated me.
Things are truly looking up. There’s even a chance that I'll get better if I’m constantly surrounded by him, that is.
Life is so—
Strong arms wrap around my waist, and for a moment, I think Nate has come downstairs to convince me to stay. But then, cloth is being shoved into my mouth, and my feet are being kicked out from under me.
“Hmph!” I shout, but no one seems to notice. It’s either too early or no one cares.
A black van pulls to the curb, the back door sliding open to reveal a man in a sky mask. He waves, and whoever has me pinned—two guys, I believe—drag me toward the vehicle.
Oh, fuck. It’s happening. Everything my uncle warned me about.
I try to scream and kick and flail, even attempting to go limp and drag my captors down with me, but nothing works. And as soon as I enter the van, a needle is plunged into my neck, and I’m slipping into darkness.
The last thing I can think of as I’m being laid on the cold, metal floor is that Nate must have seen, right?
He’ll come to save me. I just know it.