22. Chapter 22 #2
“I know.” I keep my voice steady, but my heart is rattling around in my chest. “I like you too.” You have no idea how much.
You have no idea how much my soul aches for yours or how much my body yearns for your hands on my skin.
If I told you the extent of my desire, you’d run.
I’d never see you again, and it would destroy me.
“G-Good,” Asher says, his voice more strained than I think I’ve ever heard it, his eyes wide and scared.
“Shh.” I reach out to stroke his cheek. “You’ll be okay. I told you, didn’t I? You’ll learn to stand it.”
“How?” Asher whispers.
I reach for the knife lying by our side. “Maybe this will help.”
He stiffens underneath me, gaze fixed on the gleaming blade.
For what feels like the tenth time, I ask, “Are you sure you really want this?”
He nods, eyes just as wide, just as terrified.
“Not just to make us even?” I ask. “Not just because you think you hurt me, and now you want me to hurt you too?”
“I did hurt you,” he whispers. “You can’t say I didn’t.”
“But I wanted it. That’s different.”
His gaze shifts sideways. “If you say so.”
“Ash.” I grip his jaw and force him to look at me. “Focus for me, okay? Don’t be scared.”
“I’m not.”
“What have I said about lying?”
His eyes are wide and glossy, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Okay, I’ll focus. I want you to cut me, Noah. Get to my blood. You’ve already had all the rest. My skin, my dick, my ass. And I’ve had yours—all of it. It’s time you had all of me too.”
But do I have your heart as well, my Goldilocks?
I cannot ask; what if he says no? Instead, I trace his torso with the tip of the knife, lightly scraping the skin.
“Where do you want it?” I mumble, dragging the blade down underneath his belly button, where he cut me. “Here?”
“Maybe?…?here?” He motions to the space between two ribs on his left side.
“Okay.” I move the knife up, and our eyes fix on it—the glinting blade and the trembling flesh beneath.
Part of me wonders if he’ll scream when I cut him. The way I remember, I merely gasped or whimpered, but as previously mentioned, Asher is more affected by pain than I am.
He shudders when the blade hits home, and I slowly drag it sideways.
It’s over in an instant. Blood blooms in the knife’s wake, and Asher rocks his hips hard against mine, letting me feel the sticky head of his cock rub against the underside of my shaft.
“Oh fuck,” he whimpers. “Fuck, that’s?…”
“How was that?” I set the knife aside and trace the blood seeping from the wound with the tip of my finger. He doesn’t bleed as much as I did; I didn’t cut him as deeply.
“Intense,” he whispers, staring down at his torso. “Hot.”
I bring my bloody hand between our bodies and grip his straining cock. “I can tell.”
“Do you want to fuck me the way I did you? With this?” He nods at the blood.
“Yeah. If you want me to.”
“Please.”
I haven’t fucked him since that day I came back from the woods; he’s always been the one fucking me, but I have to admit I’ve been thinking about it. It’s different to be the one on top, taking my pleasure, and after everything that has passed between us, I think it’s fitting.
I need to show him that I want to be close to him in every possible way I can, that I’m okay, that I don’t hate him for what he did to me. The sex is just a vessel for that to happen, and the sensations themselves—the pleasure and the pain—are secondary to the implications of our surrender.
Yes. Me cutting him, me fucking him, it’s all the same, and all it does is bring us closer.
I crawl down his body until I sit between his parted legs. Hands under his knees, I make him tilt his lower body upward as I bring my tongue between his legs, to the warm place between his cheeks. I lick him there, one long swipe.
“Fuck,” he whispers.
I press my tongue to his hole, feeling it shudder along with his whole body. “Relax, Goldilocks. Let me take care of you. Let me make sure it doesn’t hurt like it did last time.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” he whimpers, and I hear the tears in his voice. “I’m not nice to you.”
“What?”
“I’m mean to you. I’m cruel. I don’t mean to be, but?…?I can’t help it.”
“Shh.” I keep lapping at his hole, wanting to make him relax and let go of all he’s done, all I’ve done, and all we’ve done to each other. I think it’s working.
“That feels so good,” he whispers.
I hum against him, folding him nearly in half as I dip my tongue sharply into his hole.
“Fuck,” he sobs. “Fuck, fuck.”
I alternate between kissing and licking his hole, trying to make him see that I’ll take care of him through this.
He moans through all of it, sobs and whines as I hold him up and part his cheeks wide, already addicted to the way he tastes and smells and the way his hole softens and opens up against my tongue.
I eat him out for longer than is probably necessary, but it feels necessary for me.
To reassure him. To calm him. To make him focus on the pleasure rather than the pain I know he hates.
“Blood didn’t work as lube that well,” I mumble. “So I’ll use the real deal on you, okay?”
“Oh?…?Okay.”
I reach for the bottle by the bedside and squeeze some onto my fingers. “You’re so pretty here,” I mumble, pressing a finger to his hole. “You’re pretty everywhere.”
He makes a strained sound, face going bright red. “Sh-Shut up.”
“Shh. Relax for me now.”
“I’m?…?I’m trying. But it?…?it hurts.”
I remove my finger immediately. “Where?”
“Not there. My wound; it’s burning.”
“Turn to your side.”
He turns obediently, and I slide up beside him, pushing my finger between his cheeks and finding his hole again, sliding the middle finger inside, careful and slow.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, kissing his neck. “You can let me inside. No pain.”
He moans when I push the finger past the first knuckle, and I feel his insides yield to me, the pressure subsiding as I sink deeper inside.
My cock is painfully hard, pressing against the small of his back, and his body is so warm lined up against me, as is his hole when I try to slip another finger alongside the first. He whimpers.
“Does that hurt?” I ask.
“Ah?…?A little.”
“What if I said I’m going to fuck you anyway?” I whisper darkly into his ear, mirroring his own words back to him. “How would that make you feel?”
“I’m-I’m sorry,” he gasps, but he rocks his hips back, sinking my fingers deeper into his plush heat.
“Tell me what you want, Ash.”
“Want you inside me,” he whimpers. “Please, Noah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“If not, just say the word. You know the one.”
“Y-Yeah, oh god, Noah, please, oh?…”
“Are you going to whine like a little baby when I fuck you, like last time? Or will you be good?”
“I’ll be good. Promise.”
I crook my fingers, finding something tight and bundled up inside him. I press down on that spot, and he gasps desperately, as if he can’t get enough air.
“Ah! What the fuck was that?”
“This?” I swivel my fingers against it.
“Yeah.”
“Your prostate. Haven’t you felt it before? I feel mine all the time when you fuck me.”
“Holy shit. D-Do it again.”
I stroke back and forth, testing the pressure, and Asher is coming apart in my grip, desperately pushing his ass toward me.
“Fuck?…?You think you can hit that thing with your cock?”
“Don’t know. Want me to try?”
“Yeah,” he gasps. “Please. That feels fucking awesome.”
I grab the bottle of lube and squeeze hard. Damn, it’s nearing empty. We’ll have to get another one, and that’s fast, with the frequency we’re having sex.
I slip my fingers out of him and coat myself before I spread the lube along his crack with my cock. Every time I brush his hole with the head, he gasps. He’s far more stretched out now than last time we did this, so I hope it won’t hurt, and if it does, I hope he’ll tell me.
I push forward, wedging myself inside that tight heat, and Asher gives a wrecked moan.
“Feels good?” I ask.
“Yeah. Really fucking good.”
“Not hurting?”
He shakes his head, and I press further inside, but when the thicker part of my cock spreads him wide, he whimpers.
“Can you?…?go a little slower, please?”
I pull back and keep to soft, shallow thrusts. “Tell me when I can continue.”
He’s panting like he’s running a marathon. I place my hand on his expanding and contracting chest, holding him close.
“I knew I’d get you to whine like that again,” I whisper into his ear.
“F-Fuck?…?Fuck you,” he gasps.
“You like taking charge, but as soon as you get my cock inside you, you can’t help but become a whiny little mess.”
“Shut up,” he whimpers. “Do it. Now. Make me feel that thing again.”
“Your prostate,” I say with a smile.
“Yeah, that.”
I angle my hips to try to let him feel it.
He pinches his eyes shut. “No.”
“How about now?” I lift one of his legs to gain a better angle.
“Fuck?…?I don’t?…?think so. It feels good though. Really fucking good. Is this how you feel when I fuck you?”
“Yeah,” I whisper into his ear. “Intense, isn’t it? You can feel it in your whole body sometimes. Shivers of pleasure.”
He shudders, seeming too overwhelmed to even move. I move for the both of us, slipping inside him inch by inch and then pulling out, the slick sounds of our coupling filling the room. The air is cold, like always, but we keep each other boiling hot with the heat of our bodies.
“Do you feel it?” I mumble into his ear, kissing his neck.
“It’s not?…?quite right.”
“Come.” I pull out of him and lie on my back, tapping my chest. “Like this, you can control your own pace. Angle it how you want.”
Asher straddles me, and he tenses when he sinks himself down on my cock, face scrunched up as if he expects it to hurt, but when it doesn’t, he sighs in relief and moans softly.