Chapter 22
AREK
“Ready?” I ask, holding my hands out to Kylen.
He looks up at me with a pretty blush on his cheeks. That blush is going to stay there for hours, and it’s just what I need to take my mind off Adalaide.
Kylen places both of his hands in mine, and I pull him easily to his feet. It makes the hoodie he’s wearing fall and smooth out, and a smile splits my face. I love it when he wears my clothes. He swims in them, and they smell like me, telling everyone that this man is fucking mine.
However, the hoodie says ‘I’m a good boy,’ and the way it ignites my possession of him as well as my hunger to breed him right now is the one thing that pushes my concern for Ady from my mind. Hands on his hips, I tug him to me and wrap him up in my arms, kissing him hungrily.
His sigh, the way he settles into my arms, is everything.
Over the last few days, I’ve been inside this man more than I haven’t. It’s not easy to control my violent hunger when someone hurts my family. In fact, I’ve never tried to control it. Granddad Jalon says trying to ignore the need to let it out is how accidents happen. It’s how I’ll end up in jail.
Knowing that Orev, Rosalie, and three of our cousins took care of the problem doesn’t actually alleviate my fury. Knowing that an entire hateful congregation is dead for trying to ‘make an example’ of my sister does nothing to quiet my rage.
If they’d gotten their hands on Adalaide, I’d not have been able to stay here and let someone else take care of it.
There isn’t much that bothers Adalaide. Outside hate might be loud, but they’re just ugly words by ignorant people.
But these people? They were making threats.
They said something that actually upset Adalaide.
It made her afraid, and nothing frightens her.
She’s not like Orev and me, but she’s not easily ruffled either.
Kylen wiggles in my arms, and I smile, forcing my thoughts away. With one hand, I pull the back of his hoodie up and give my other hand access to drop into his pants. He laughs, pressing his pink cheeks into my neck to hide his bashfulness.
Being inside Kylen quiets the storm. I don’t need to fuck him. In fact, I don’t want to fuck him when I’m angry. I’m afraid I’ll hurt him if my mind is too dark. That was the reason I dropped my hand between his legs the afternoon I found him in his bedroom and made him sit on my dick.
I knew, more than anything, that touching Kylen there wasn’t something he enjoyed, and it showed a great deal of trust for him to allow me to just sit like that.
His trust is literally everything to me, so I kept his junk in my hand, forcing my grip to remain firm but slack, knowing that I would never hurt him or break his trust.
The way he slowly settled into me was like an injection of calm, slowly dousing the fury that raged inside me.
He let his legs hang open freely for me.
He covered my hand with his, which felt like physical confirmation that he was okay with my hand being there.
His body slowly turned to mush in my arms as I hugged him closely.
Honestly, I hadn’t been convinced that even Kylen could calm the monster inside me. It was a risk like nothing else I could have possibly done right then.
I didn’t go to class the following days and rescheduled our dick molding session because I wasn’t ready to trust myself with anyone outside of Kylen, and I think he knew it. He realized I wasn’t just upset. I was furious.
I think he began to see when that anger strengthened inside me. Yesterday morning, when I woke up ready to burn someone alive, he gripped my hand and had me cup his cock with it. Just like I had in the chair.
I’d been so startled that everything inside me froze, and my body stilled as I waited to see what he wanted.
His fingers trembled as he moved my hand to cup his junk the way I had a few days ago.
That’s what made me realize he wasn’t requesting something sexual.
It wasn’t that kind of permission. He was giving me something that he realized helped to calm me down.
That’s when I knew Kylen was it for me. I was keeping him for the rest of his life. He put his own comfort aside because he knew I needed something to pull me out of my anger.
“Do you need to touch my dick for a minute?” Kylen teases.
I groan and slide my hand to the front of him, where it’s wedged between us.
He’s soft when I gently cup his crotch. Kylen takes a breath, but he’s not tense.
He’s entirely relaxed in my hold. My other hand around his shoulders tightens.
He grunts, and I know I’m holding him a little painfully, but he can’t possibly know what his trust means to me.
Nobody looks at me and thinks, ‘he’s safe.’ The single emotion I recognize when someone looks at me is fear. They may not know why they’re afraid, but it’s uncommon to look into someone’s eyes and find them empty. Devoid of expression. Of emotion.
Orev and I have spent hours staring at each other, trying to understand what those words meant. What did it mean that our stares were blank and our eyes were empty? What did that look like compared to everyone else?
It meant that people were innately afraid, though they didn’t understand why.
Kylen doesn’t look at me with fear. Not anymore. Not since I crawled into his bed that night and demanded that he be mine. Now he looks at me and smiles. His face is warm. Happy. I won’t pretend that I can read him clearly, but he smiles. It’s a real smile.
More than that, he trusts me with something that he’s made clear is a very hard limit for him.
He doesn’t like touch here, and he not only allows it but invites it.
Not when we’re having sex, of course. But almost anytime outside of sex since the day I stayed in his tight, warm little ass for far too long just to hold him and hope he could somehow fend off my anger.
“You feel better?” Kylen asks, his light eyes moving up to meet mine shyly. That pretty blush still colors his cheeks pink.
“It means a lot that you let me touch you like this,” I tell him, because I’m not sure that I have yet.
He bows his head, breaking eye contact as his face heats. “It seems to bring you comfort for some reason,” he whispers.
“It does because it’s a big show of trust from you,” I explain and gently force his eyes back to mine.
“One day, I hope you’ll tell me why you don’t like anything here.
” I so very subtly flex my hand around his dick.
Even that little change in the pressure of my hand around him has Kylen inhaling sharply.
“I won’t ever push, Kylen. Ever. You can tell me when you’re ready.
I will always respect your boundaries. Which is why I can’t possibly express to you how much it means to me that you let me do this. ”
“Why do you take comfort in touching me… there?” he asks, and I brush my thumb over his hot cheeks.
“Because of what I just said. From the moment I first touched you, your words said no mouth, but your body language said absolutely nothing there at all. I’ve always tried to respect that, though admittedly, my need to make you feel good has me forgetting sometimes, and I do press a finger to your dick or something when we’re having sex.
But as soon as I feel your response, I’m reminded that you’re not ready, and I release you.
Your body is yours. You control who touches you. ”
My words stop because his entire body tenses at the last sentence.
I hit something with those words. The sour pit forming in my stomach says I’m not going to like what he tells me.
It’s not an aversion to touch there. It’s not a simple dislike, nor that he doesn’t take pleasure there. It’s something else. Something uglier.
Yet, he doesn’t pull away. Even though I very clearly hit on something. I’ll always be better at reading someone when I can feel their body. Not a visual read, but reading through touch. I felt his body stiffen. I felt his breath hitch. I felt the way his heart jumped.
But he stays. Even though I triggered a reaction, he doesn’t pull away from my hand around his dick.
“Right now,” I say softly, “something I said made you react, but you haven’t made me stop touching you.
That tells me that your trust in me is absolute, and yes, that does a lot to bring me comfort because I don’t naturally command that kind of trust in people.
It means more than I can ever articulate, Kylen.
That’s why it brings me comfort when I’m struggling with my anger. ”
He swallows and blinks rapidly for a second. Kylen’s lips part, and he takes a deep breath. His body leans into me more firmly, and I move my hand from the back of his head to around his shoulder again.
I expect, when he drops his hand to lie on top of mine over his junk, that he’s going to pull me away. His hand isn’t in his pants like mine is, but outside, and he doesn’t push me away. His hand tightens on mine, so I very lightly tighten my hold on him.
Kylen shivers. “I may need to remind myself that this is you,” he says. “Right now, I mean. No one else is touching me but you, and I do trust you.”
“What do you need?” I ask, and the anger in my core ignites because I’m right. I’m not sure what I’m right about except that someone touched him against his will. Without his invitation.
“Just this,” he says, and his eyes flicker to mine briefly. “Just… touch me harder for a minute. Because your hold is always strong.”
I flex my grip on him again, and Kylen takes a deep, calming breath.
“Okay,” he whispers, though I don’t think that’s for me.
His hand presses harder on my hand, bringing it more firmly between his legs.
I don’t tighten my hold again. I let him guide me instead.
I don’t know where the line is, and I don’t want to cross it.
It takes him a minute, but his shoulders relax, and his hand over mine slides up to rest on my stomach. “I’m okay. This is my choice.” His eyes meet mine and stay. He smiles shyly. “I’m okay. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to—”
I stop his apology with my finger over his lips. “Never apologize for whatever just happened. I’m confident that whatever it is that makes you react isn’t your fault.”
Kylen smiles against my finger and presses a gentle kiss to the pad of it. “I know. I just meant…” His voice trails off, and then he sighs. He shakes his head a little. “Never mind. We’re going to be late.”
I search his eyes for several minutes, and while there’s an entire world of information there, I’m not equipped to interpret any of it. Leaning down to close the slight height difference, I press my lips to his while I slowly pull my hand from his pants and encircle his waist.
“Thank you for the injection of calm. Nothing does that quite like you letting me touch your junk.”
Kylen laughs, his cheeks pinking further. He taps my shirt, and I grin because I wore this one specifically for him. There are five different sports balls on it, and it says, ‘I like balls’. I mean, it’s not wrong, at least. I do like balls.
With his hand in mine, I lead him from my bedroom and down to the basement.
The first cock I molded was mine, and I did so in Nolan’s room with his help. It’s a memory that lives rent-free in my head because that man stayed red the entire time while I edged myself to stay hard for an hour. I’d never edged myself before, but that was an intense afternoon.
I have a separate room to mold dicks in now. There’s a window, a couch, a bed, and a lounge chair. Whatever it takes to get them comfortable.
He’s waiting outside the door when we arrive. A good-enough-looking man, but not someone I’d take a second look at. He is, however, someone that our online subscribers love to watch rail the little twinks, so that means he qualifies to have a replica made of his dick.
His eyes shift away from mine, and he looks at Kylen instead. “Hi.”
Kylen gives him a shy smile and leans a little further into my side. “Wyatt?” I ask.
He nods, eyes glancing my way again.
“I’m Arek. This is my boyfriend, Kylen. He’s here to supervise my hands on your dick.”
Kylen practically chokes as he presses his face into my shoulder, and I grin widely. My teasing sets Wyatt at ease, and he smiles.
“Sounds good. I don’t mind an audience.”
“Oh my god,” Kylen hisses.
I open the door to my little comfort studio and wave Wyatt in. “Make yourself comfortable. Take your pants off. Get hard. Do you have a plan to stay hard, or do you need some help?”
Kylen looks at me with narrowed eyes, even as his cheeks stay red.
“I have a plan, but I’m open to whatever methods worked in the past,” Wyatt answers as he drops his pants before I even have the door shut.
“Personally, I used a vibrating butt plug, and I controlled the speed,” I answer.
Kylen’s eyes turn wide, and he covers his face. “I don’t need to be here, Arek.”
“Sure you do. What if I have to help him? Don’t you want to watch?”
“No. This is business. If you need to touch him, then do it.”
I bring Kylen to my chest as I gesture to the cabinet with my toys. Wyatt bends over to check out the goods, and I see he already has a butt plug in, though I don’t think it vibrates. He certainly came with a plan.
“Oh, look at this one,” Wyatt says and stands. It’s a butt plug, of course, but it’s longer than usual, thick, curled at the base to press against his taint, and it’s electric. Wyatt grins at me. “I think I’ll swap out if that’s cool.”
“Sure. You want some privacy?”
“Nah,” Wyatt says, dropping his eyes to Kylen, who was peeking at what Wyatt had found. “As I said, I don’t mind an audience.”
My sweet summer child presses his face into my chest to hide from Wyatt, who removes one butt plug and adds the other. I’m going to love this afternoon.