13. Henry
THIRTEEN
HENRY
Confused, I watch as Anders climbs out of bed and turns his back on me, walking into the bathroom without even glancing at me. Cold, confused fear makes goose bumps pebble over my skin, and for the first time since we came up to his room and he told me to strip, I feel awkward being naked.
Sucking in gulps of air, I try to regulate my breathing, feeling stupid for being so worked up when he just walked away like nothing important had happened.
Did I do something wrong? He kissed me, then jerked me until I came.
I don’t think I put my hands anywhere I shouldn’t have, but then I don’t know where it’d be normal to put my hands. Did I do something weird?
Is it weird that I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come tonight?
He’s only come once—inside of me.
I’ve lost control of myself several times already, but I’m confident that the moment he steps back into the room and I see his perfectly chiseled body, I’ll be hard as a rock again.
Does he think I haven’t enjoyed myself? Is my dick constantly being hard an insult?
God, why don’t I know more about sex? Why don’t I have any gay friends to ask about this?
Anal sex is…mind-blowing. I expected it to hurt, and it did a little, but mainly it felt like a million orgasms rolling into one long one that started all over again every time he hit that spot inside of me.
I’m not a virgin anymore. I had sex. No, I had great sex, and now I might have ruined it, and I don’t know why.
The urge to move, to find my clothes and rush to the spare room I slept in the last time I was here, fills me, but as I push up, intent on leaving, Anders strides back into the bedroom, his expression dark and foreboding.
“What are you doing?” he snarls, turning angry eyes on my half-sat-up position.
“I was…” Anything I was going to say dissolves in the face of his anger.
“Were you going to leave?” he demands.
“I—”
Cutting me off before I can utter a word, he prowls toward me, looming over me like an angry demon. “You do not leave after sex. Ever. You don’t even move until I give you permission. Do you hear me, Boy?”
I nod.
“Words. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” I squeak.
“Lie back down.”
Flopping onto my back, I bury my fingers into the sheets, my knuckles turning white with how hard I’m gripping them.
I don’t know why, but I tense when he reaches out to touch me, only instead of his hand, it’s a warm, wet washcloth that swipes over my stomach. His brows are drawn together, his look of consternation intense as he systematically cleans my belly, making sure all traces of my cum are wiped away.
More confused than ever, I watch as he pulls the cloth from my stomach, and his eyes drop between my parted legs, to where I can feel his cum dripping from my empty ass.
“Fuck,” he whispers.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, then immediately regret it. If he tells me he regrets fucking me, I think I’ll cry. I don’t know how he went from telling me he’s falling for me to being cold and pissed, but I do know that asking him right now is a mistake.
I’ve been abandoned over and over, and one more rejection shouldn’t break me, but if it’s him, it will.
He told me he’d never let me leave, but he didn’t say anything about him not leaving me.
He could tell me he’s done. He could tell me this is all a mistake and I’m sure he’d be fine; his life would go on.
But I won’t be okay. I won’t survive feeling like I belonged to him, only for him to reject me moments later.
“I know I should clean you up, but it feels wrong to wipe my cum out of your perfect little ass,” he rasps, his voice low and rough.
My relief is so palpable, I feel myself sink into the bed as my muscles unclench and relax. “I don’t want you to wipe it away,” I blurt without thought.
“You don’t?” he asks, lifting his still dark, but no longer angry, gaze to look at me.
I shake my head.
“Do you like your ass being full of my cum?” he drawls, his tone softening with each word. He’s transforming in front of my eyes, and it’s jarring, but I’ll take seductive, dominant Anders over an angry version of him.
I nod.
“Tell me. I want to hear you say it,” he purrs.
“I like knowing my ass is full of your cum,” I tell him, feeling the blush plume over my cheeks.
“Jesus, Boy, you’re a little cock tease, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t mean to,” I quickly say.
“It’s not a bad thing. Once you’re used to being fucked by me, I’ll keep you full of me all the time if that’s what you’d like.
I think sending you to work with an ass full of my cum sounds like the perfect way to start each day.
On the days I’m not working, I could come and check how much of me is still inside of you at lunchtime.
If you’ve been a good boy and kept some of me in you, I’ll get on my knees and suck your cock dry.
If you’ve been bad, and you’re all empty, I’ll put you on your knees and make you swallow a load so you’ve always got me inside of you. ”
A full-body tremor ricochets through me, and my hard dick twitches excitedly.
“Jesus, Boy. Your dick really never goes down, does it? What part of what I just said got you all turned on again?”
Swallowing thickly, I whimper. “All of it.”
His laugh is deep and throaty. “You were made for me, weren’t you, Henry? Even if I don’t deserve you.”
“Maybe we were made for each other,” I whisper, my voice barely loud enough to be heard.
“Maybe we were,” he says, smiling softly. Throwing the washcloth toward the hamper, Anders lies down beside me, gathering me to him until I feel cradled in his thick, strong arms, my cheek pressed against his firm pec.
His body feels clammy and warm surrounding me, but I don’t care.
Being hugged by him settles something inside of me that I didn’t realize was so rattled.
I’m a mixture of sticky, sweaty, and damp from the washcloth.
My ass is starting to feel tender and sore, and the sensation of his cum leaking out of me is making me feel both oddly triumphant and dirty in a depraved way that I do not mind at all.
I’ve experienced so many emotions tonight that I feel wrung out, but I wouldn’t change anything if it led to this moment. I’m still a little confused about all of this, but I know I want him, I just wish I felt as confident in his feelings for me.
He told me he wants me. He told me I’m his, but only minutes ago, he shut down and became so distant that I’m not sure he even knows what he’s feeling or if anything he’s said is actually true.
If I were braver, or bolder, I’d ask him why he consumes me, then backs off, like he caught himself doing something he shouldn’t.
But I’m not brave, and I’m not bold, and as pathetic as it sounds, I’m willing to take anything he wants to offer me as long as he keeps coming back for more.
Because for the first time in years, I’ve allowed myself to want him, and I have no idea what I’ll do if he walks away.
Not moving, I stay wrapped in his huge arms until he sighs, loosens his hold on me, and slides one arm down my back to my butt. I don’t know what I look like…down there, but I can feel the wet, sticky mess that’s dribbling between my ass cheeks, covering my thighs and balls.
I’m not in any pain, but there’s a lingering soreness along with an emptiness that I hadn’t known to expect.
Anders’s dick is large and thick, and so far, I don’t feel like my body has reverted to the size I was before he took my virginity.
The tiny, inexperienced, curious part of me wants to ask him if this feeling is normal, but I’m still not convinced that my total lack of experience isn’t a huge red flag for him, and I don’t want to sound like even more of an idiot by asking if what I’m feeling is normal.
The moment his palm lands on my butt cheek, my dick perks up, excited at the idea that Anders might be planning to fuck me again. A weird tugging sensation at the base of my stomach warns me that if I have any more orgasms, they might be more pain than pleasure, but I’m not sure I care.
Having him inside of me made me feel wanted and desired, and now that I know how that feels, I’ll probably always crave it. So, if Anders wants to fuck me, I’ll let him. Honestly, I’d probably let him do anything he wanted to me.
Parting my cheeks with his fingers, his thumb slides down my crease until it lands on my hole, dipping inside of me without any resistance.
A twinge of pain follows the intrusion as he slowly pushes his thumb deeper inside of me, but I don’t care, my breathing becoming shallower as I bare down onto him, encouraging him to fill me more completely.
I’m not sure if my body is moving instinctively, but I clench around his thumb, hating that despite the size of his hands, his thumb isn’t big enough to stifle my need to feel full again.
Grinding my hips, I start to rub my hard cock against his belly, pushing my hole up and down his thumb, searching for the friction that only something bigger would give me.
“Look at you, my needy little Kitten. Rubbing your hard little cock against me while you fuck yourself on my thumb,” he purrs, his voice holding a hint of mocking that doesn’t upset me but instead heightens my need.
Sudden, desperate fantasies fill my head. Him flipping me to my belly, forcing his cock into my ass, and fucking me hard and deep until I explode onto the sheets. Me rubbing my cum into his bed and my abs while he punishes my ass because I came without his permission.
Where the hell did that come from? I’ve never once fantasized about being used like that. Or maybe I have. Maybe I’ve been waking up hard and desperate because my dreams have been replays of this daydream happening over and over while I was asleep.
“Boy, if you come without asking for permission, I won’t let you come again for a week.”
Anders’s deep, gravelly threat permeates into my mind, and I freeze, my dick, hard and weeping, desperate for release.