Chapter 14 #2
Using the wet towel on the nightstand, I clean him with a few gentle caresses, then I pull his pants back up. I unbuckle the restraints on his ankles first, then move to release his hands.
I try to help get him upright, but he shrugs me away.
“No,” I say firmly. “We’re not finished.”
“Whatever you’re offering, I don’t need it.”
“You’ll take it. Give me your hand.”
His head turns, and his tear-stained glare is both angry and wounded.
He slaps his hand too hard against my palm, and with one hand on his lower back, I help him upright until he’s on his knees.
His ankle restraints were tighter so I give each of his ankles a rub to ensure good circulation.
Touching the soles of his feet, I find them warm.
“Now lie down,” I tell him.
“I’m fine.”
Tears are still pouring down his splotched, red face, and every few seconds, a full-body shudder takes hold of him.
If I don’t get a blanket on him soon, he’ll start shivering.
Sub drop is real, and what he just experienced was intense for him.
His hormones—his adrenaline—are all about to leave him in a rush. “Lie down, Christian.”
He wipes his face and turns his back on me, moving to the other side of the bed and curling onto his side.
Hastily, I remove the mat, folding it quickly and sliding it off the mattress.
Without wanting to make this more awkward for him, I put my shirt back on without buttoning it before grabbing the blanket from the foot of the bed. I climb in to sit next to him, propping myself against the headboard. “It would help if you’d let me hold you,” I say.
“I told you I’m okay.”
“Either you trust me, or you don’t. I’m not trying to take advantage of a situation. I want to take you through the experience safely, and if even a small part of you wants to do this again, you’ll do as I say.”
“Fine,” he sighs. “How do you want me?”
“Turn around and come here.”
Slowly, he drags his body through the motions.
I gather him against my chest as soon as I have enough access to his torso to accomplish it.
To my relief—and surprise—he drapes an arm around my waist and slots his leg between mine.
Fine tremors continue to run through him, and I pull the blanket over us both.
“You did very well,” I tell him softly, speaking into his hair.
He lets out a heavy sigh and relaxes against me. I run my hand up and down his bare arm where chill bumps create friction against my palm. After a minute, I offer him a sip of water through a straw. “Drink.”
He does and then sags back against my chest.
“Why does this help?” he asks after a long minute or two of nothing but sad, beautiful music.
“It’s partly meant to reassure you that what you went through was a gift to me as much as it was an outlet for you.”
“It was—”
“Shh…we can speak about it later if you like. Right now, try to relax. Focus on the moment. Let go of your thoughts again if you can.”
“Is there more to it than snuggling?” he asks, which makes me roll my eyes, but not with impatience. Just a reminder that he’s new to this, and our situation isn’t exactly conducive to this level of intimacy.
“Do you need there to be? It’s a two-way street.”
“You’re blowing my mind a little,” he says in a rare moment of unguardedness. “I didn’t think it’d be like this.”
“This is what it’s like with me,” I tell him.
“I don’t hate it.”
“Good.” I stroke his arm slower. The chills are gone, leaving only the silky, lightly hair-dusted skin. The contours of long, lean muscles.
“Feels like there should be more, though.”
“I could get you into the bath…”
“No,” he says, lifting his head to look at me. “I mean if it’s like you said, then it shouldn’t be all about me.”
I stroke his face. “That’s how it works, beautiful boy.”
His eyelids flutter, and I see the drop as it happens. The fight leaving him. What I don’t expect, what I never could have seen coming, are his warm lips pressing into mine.
I choke back a moan, but his hand is moving up my chest now, and he’s leaning in. I can’t help myself from taking what he’s offering.
I part my lips, allowing him access but forcing myself to not take control, to be still. Unlike last time when I practically assaulted his mouth, I let him lead and take what he needs from me, giving him just enough to let him know he can continue as long as he’d like.
It’s not easy. My semi surges into a full erection with the wet laps of his tongue against mine.
“Mmm…” The sound slips out as we continue to kiss gently and slow.
It’s perfect. Possibly the best thing I’ve felt in years.
Almost in as long as I can remember. His taste is like nectar he’s feeding me, and I accept the delicious flavor of him.
So new. So enticing. So fucking hot, it’s unbearable.
His leg shifts between mine as he moves into my mouth from a new angle. His body rolls in the rhythm of a sensuous fuck. My hips tilt involuntarily, stroking my aching length against his bent knee.
If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. Nor does it seem to bother him. If anything, the kiss only gets wetter, sexier.
I don’t mean to, but I put my hand on his ass, holding him in place for my cock to use. Our languid pace makes everything more subtle, even the way I’m grinding as he uses his whole body to make out with me.
It’s the biggest turn on, even though this wasn’t what I had in mind at all. I can’t believe we made it back to this place. That we’ve maybe made it to a better place.
His sounds are more restrained as we continue to rock into each other, never breaking mouth contact, swallowing each other’s soft throat groans and satisfied sighs.
They’re a second course of this buffet of him.
I wonder if he realizes just how sexy he is—that I’ve seen women and men and sex of all stripes, and very little compares to this.
Jesus Christ, I’m close.
I should stop, but I can’t bring myself to. I want to keep kissing him, and I desperately want to come. I move my grip from his ass to his hip, attempting to save myself the embarrassment, but it doesn’t do anything about his knee gently putting the exact right amount of friction on my cock.
Lust coalesces in my groin, aimed straight at that intense point of contact.
Warmth pools in my core, and as his tongue slides over mine again, and his knee presses against my tight balls, I shudder out a breath that ends with a broken groan and cum gushing from my cock, enough to soak my pants in an instant.
I’m mindless as his lips suck mine. My hips jerk with each gush of my release. Everything feels softer. His lips, his body, this kiss that rocked my fucking world off its axis.
Out of breath, I retract my mouth, and he lets his fall to my neck where he leans his head against mine and breathes heavily.
“Was that okay?” he whispers.
Does he realize I came? Is he talking about kissing as aftercare? I can’t string a coherent thought together. All I’ve got is, “Of course.”
“We’re probably gonna have to talk about this at some point,” he says.
“We will.”
“How long until the car gets here?”
I check my watch. “Another hour.”
“I could fall asleep,” he says.
So could I. “Here?”
He nods.
“May I stay?”
“Of course,” he says, like it’s nothing—the privilege of sleeping in a bed with him. Yet, those two simple words rock me harder than the orgasm did.
We rearrange only enough to rest our heads on pillows. His knee remains in my wet spot, and I move my hand to his lower back where his shirt has ridden up. I splay my palm across his hot skin and let him nestle his forehead against my shoulder. Within moments, I’m in an utterly dreamless sleep.