Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Fallow
Ican’t tell if it’s the pain in my face keeping me awake or the general feeling of discontent, but it’s something.
Colm is asleep, of course. I’ve fucked dozens of criminals, all with their own tragic backstory in one way or another, but I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who appears as well-adjusted as him.
He moves through the world without obvious fear but also isn’t overconfident.
He sleeps like the dead. He doesn’t get upset over little things or take offense at the drop of a hat.
He doesn’t act like he’s got something to prove.
I thought if you wanted to be all of these things, you had to grow up in a house with loving parents or ponies or something. Apparently, Colm was born to be the warm little center of the universe when it comes to being normal.
Never in a million years would I think I’d be into that, but here we are. I guess this fucktuationship has been surprising for both of us.
I still can’t believe I let him stitch up my face last night, but it had to be done. I did my best to zone out and not let myself look at how steady and sure his expression was the whole time, like this was no big deal and I could just trust him.
Just like that. Trust him.
Whatever it is that’s unsettling me, I don’t care for it. Historically, I know the best distractions are fucking or murder, and only one of those is an easy option without leaving the hotel room right now so I’ll take advantage of the dick on tap I have snoring next to me.
I get out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake him up until I’m ready. After a quick pit stop in the bathroom to clean up, I scoop up the supplies and strip off my clothes before whipping his blanket off and hopping up to straddle him in one fluid movement.
Colm inhales sharply, his eyes opening and his consciousness coming back to him as he looks around the room for threats. It only takes a few seconds for him to settle, though. He doesn’t say anything, but studies my face with a serious expression.
“Fuck?” I ask him, head tilted, getting straight to the point.
I’m holding myself above him—just an inch—so I get the very satisfying sensation of his cock starting to swell and push out his boxer-briefs, grazing against the underside of my balls and making me shiver in the best possible way.
“You sure you should move that much? With your face?”
He reaches up a hand but stops short of touching me, and the sweetness of the words and gesture combined hit me harder than I expect.
“I wasn’t aware that you knew how to properly top. Is that an offer? You’ve seemed very content to lie back and let me ride you, until now. My little pillow princess?”
I smile at him, but the teasing gets a rise out of the normally unflappable man beneath me, and he growls.
Without grabbing me, but without giving me much time to get out of the way, Colm sits up and rolls over until our positions are switched.
His long, bulky body is stretched out over me, propped up on his hands so he’s not touching me anywhere, but it makes me feel small beneath him just the same.
He’s surprised me again, because I don’t hate it the way I normally would. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him break all my rules.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re very confusing?” he asks, his eyes moving over my face like searchlights.
I affect a bored expression, falling into the character he expects of the spoiled, self-indulgent mafia dauphin.
“Would you rather I were boring?” I ask him, pretending to examine my nails and act like his presence on top of me isn’t affecting me in the slightest.
“Never.”
The word is spoken quietly but dripping with sincerity, and it makes me stumble in my little act, for a second. Colm is still watching me, all intensity and something bordering on affection, waiting for my reaction.
“Good.” I put a hand carefully on his bare chest and push, and he rolls back over willingly. “Sit”
I gesture at him, and he shuffles until he’s sitting up against the headboard, his dick straining to reach me like it wants to tear its way through the fabric and his fingers clenching and unclenching in the sheets beside him.
“Off.”
I point at his underwear, and Colm quickly complies. When he notices the condom and lube I set out, he makes himself presentable.
“Don’t worry, little rabbit. I’ll be gentle.”
Colm doesn’t say anything else, but he gives me a small, slightly shaky nod of his head, which I take as my signal to go ahead.
I’m grateful he didn’t want to talk about it. Because no, this isn’t going to feel amazing on my freshly stitched face, but I need it more than anything else right now. I need to quell the growing sensation in my chest that something isn’t normal with me.
I prepped myself in the bathroom before I woke him up, but I push my fingers into my hole a few more times to make sure I’m ready before straddling him once again and sinking down on his cock.
Colm has this way of looking like the experience is transcendent.
Every guy I’ve ever fucked has loved sinking his dick into a tight, wet hole.
I’ve fucked girls who like sticking their dick in a tight wet hole.
I figured out a long time ago that I love cock much more than I care about the gender of whoever’s attached to it.
No shade to pussy, boy or otherwise, but it’s really never been my thing.
But not one single human being that has stuck their dick inside me has ever made it look as close to a fucking religious experience as Colm does.
He’s quiet about it. It’s not over-the-top or for the drama. It’s all in the subtle shifts in his face, and the way blood rushes to color his skin as he takes in one deep, shuddering breath after another.
I make a solid effort to look away as I start to ride him, but it’s difficult. I keep coming back to find his gaze, whether I want to or not. Eventually, I lean forward so I can hang onto the headboard, my mouth falling open as pleasure starts to build inside me.
I keep it slow and steady. Colm doesn’t say anything and stays still, like he’s supposed to. All I get from him is breathy gasps, the occasional small thrust up of his hips to meet me, and that constant smoldering gaze that is wrecking my fucking head.
My cock hardens slowly, because my mind is all over the place. But eventually it’s pointing up at him, desperate for attention as I continue to work my hips over him.
The urge that hits me is terrifying, but the soft haze of pleasure has made consequences seem less real and all my normal thoughts and feelings seem further away.
“Touch me,” I say in a desperate rasp.
Colm gasps like he’s in a television show. It’s cute, really.
“What?”
“Just my cock,” I say, panting heavily between the words. “Nothing else. Just put your hand out so I can fuck it.”
Colm’s eyes are still shock-white, but he doesn’t hesitate before he reaches out, making a loose circle with his fist in just the right spot for me to thrust up into as I ride him.
As soon as his hand makes contact with my dick, he moans, and I can feel a little throb of arousal from him inside me.
Poor baby. I’d bet everything I have he’s a little service top in his real life. Not being able to touch me must be killing him.
Still, he’s obedient, and doesn’t push the boundary I just opened for him.
“Fuck,” he whispers, his fingers tightening where he’s holding me. “I’m gonna come. I can’t stop it.”
“Good rabbit. Come for me.”
I pick up the pace, chasing my own pleasure as he starts to tense beneath me. He fills the condom almost immediately with a long, low moan. I take a little longer, but soon I’m following after him and spurting cum all over his chest for what feels like the thousandth time since we met.
It feels like it drags on and on, and I don’t want to stop even after my orgasm fades, but I force myself to. My hole feels more tender than I expected, and my face is starting to throb, so it’s very possible I got carried away in the moment.
Colm is still trying to catch his breath, but he’s watching me just as closely as before.
“You should ice that again before you go back to sleep. If you lie down, I can grab it for you.”
I’m nodding without thinking about it, even though I don’t normally like being taken care of like this. I let myself collapse to the side somewhat gracelessly, sprawling out on the mattress on my back, about half a foot of space between us on the bed.
Colm hesitates for just a second, watching me. I think he might say something, but he seems to swallow it. He groans like an old man as he gets up, and on a whim, I reach out and slap his massive ass.
“Am I wearing you out?”
Colm snorts. “Never. You can wake me up in the middle of any night you want, even if it is like being woken up by a feral incubus.”
He moves away from me, leaving the door to the bathroom open as he takes care of the condom and cleans himself up.
“You know, you don’t sound like someone who’s a barely educated lifelong criminal.” I raise my voice to be heard over the running water. “No offense.”
“Neither do you,” he calls back to me.
“Benefits of a classical education, darling,” I say in an exaggerated posh accent. “I may be a criminal, but Murphy always took our education very seriously. No expense spared, and all that.”
It isn’t until Colm walks back into the room with a weird look in his eye that I realize I slipped up. Fuck. That our just fell right out of my mouth. Like Colm is someone I actually talk to, and not a stranger I fuck.
I’m holding my breath, waiting for him to ask, but it doesn’t come. He wants to, I can feel it in the air. But he has to know I won’t answer.
“I wasn’t exactly an honor roll student, but I do know how to read. Criminals can’t read?”
“Not in my experience, but there are obviously exceptions to every rule. I guess I wasn’t expecting to find an exception—” I wave my hands around, “—here.”
Colm laughs a little at that, tightening the towel around his waist and reaching for another ice pack to crack before handing it to me, along with a damp washcloth to clean up.
“Honestly, I don’t really read. But I like documentaries. There’s something soothing about the way they tend to be so monotone and chill, even if the topic is serious. And I think I listen to people when they talk more than a lot of guys do.”
He shrugs, and it’s more adorable than it should be on a guy of his build.
“God, you really are boring,” I say, but I can’t help but smile at him while I say it, and he smiles right back at me like some ridiculous feedback loop that feels like sunshine creeping into our hotel room.
“Put that on your face.”
Colm pulls off the towel and gives me a brief glimpse of soft cock and hairy thighs before he pulls his underwear back on and resumes his place on his bed, leaning against the headboard again.
I should move back to my bed, but I’m too lazy. And the cold feels so good once I press it to my cheek. I roll over, rearranging myself until I’m more or less clean, under the covers, and lying on my side with the ice pack resting on my face without needing to hold it.
Colm watches me silently through all of it. He doesn’t ask if I’m going to move back to my side of the room, and when he eventually shuffles down into a lying position and rolls on his side to face me, I notice how careful he is to leave me a buffer zone of personal space.
I’m sure that fucking ass of his is hanging off the side of the mattress, but I don’t care. The expression of contentment on his face is fucking delightful.
We lie like that in silence for a long time, until Colm’s breathing evens out a little, even though his eyes are still open, and I feel myself drifting closer to sleep.
Just like when we were fucking, the rest of the world feels far away, and I find my mouth opening to speak without really considering it.
“I wasn’t molested, you know.”
The words fall like lead between us. Colm doesn’t move or speak, but I can see him holding his breath.
“The no touching thing. There isn’t some horrible, traumatic back story.
I mean, I had challenging parents, just like you.
I wasn’t exactly enjoying themed birthday parties when Murph came along and took me.
But nobody hurt me like that. I think I was just born this way.
My mother always said I was a little ‘off’.
After they died, it got worse. Like it was the only thing I could control. ”
Fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound. I’ve already told him more than I should have.
“My sister was always so adaptable. She could change her accent, her demeanor, whatever she wanted. She blended in everywhere, if you didn’t really get to know her, all the times we moved before and exactly the same after we became Banna property.
I wasn’t like that. The more things changed around me, the more I held onto the only things I had.
Touching comes with too many textures, anyway.
It’s unpredictable. I changed my accent but nothing else, and I can’t imagine changing it back.
Just like I can’t imagine letting anyone touch me but her. ”
I finally look up at Colm, who looks just as intense as before, but just as still.
“It’s easy to get away with a lot of quirks once you have a reputation as a killer. There’s something satisfying in it. Seeing how far I can push all these men who pride themselves on being tough and controlling.”
The silence stretches out between us while I wait for him to decide what he’s going to ask.
“Where’s your sister?”
Of course that’s what he wants to know. The hardest one to answer. I have to commit now to lying or not, and while I’ve never hesitated one single second to lie to anyone outside my family before, I don’t want to right now.
“San Francisco. I think.”
I whisper the words, but they land hard regardless.
“Oh, shit,” Colm whispers back.
“Oh, shit indeed.”
Another long pause, while I wait for more questions.
“I’m glad you told me.”
Colm watches me for another stretch, before closing his eyes, making it clear that the conversation is over.
I think it might be the first time that speaking to someone about myself has made me feel lighter, instead of more tense. The ice pack has slid off my face, melted now, and I bat it to the floor before I close my eyes as well.
I should move to my bed. I should. But I know I won’t.