12. Chapter 12 #2
Every inch of my body in tingling with anticipation, and my skin is feverish.
I know that I asked Roman to treat me like a prince, and at the time, that’s truly what I wanted from him.
The shit he’s saying though the way he’s touching me, it’s a lot to process after the trainwreck of thoughts I just fought my way through.
I could brush his compliment off as nothing more than really good acting, that he doesn’t even mean what he’s saying, but the way his eyes trail over every part of my body with reverence is pretty damn persuasive.
“Do you mean that?”
His eyes meet mine instantly, his hands still caressing every part of my flesh that he can reach.
“I shouldn’t need to convince you that you’re worthy of affection, Lance.
” His attention returns to my body, igniting a need within me that rivals the fires of Mordor.
“I’ll remind you, though. Every day, if that’s what you need. ”
My heart hammers in my chest, feeling so fucking full that I genuinely think I might explode.
My eyes flutter closed as I let the feeling of his touch permeate my entire body.
It’s almost as if his emotions are seeping into my flesh, calming me.
It’s a flood of desire and devotion that’s so incredibly foreign to me.
I’m having a hard time differentiating between what parts of this are real and what parts aren’t.
There’s too much happening right now, and his words are like little daggers piercing through the protective layer I’ve wrapped myself in.
Butterflies aren’t just in my stomach, they’re swimming through my veins, and the feeling makes me… restless.
“Roman?” I plead as I lift my head to look up at him.
“Hmm?”
“You’re being too nice.”
Confusion washes over his face, but within seconds understanding replaces it. A devious smirk lines his lips as he scoots down the bed, getting farther away from me. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten a key part of this arrangement, pretty boy.”
He grabs the edges of my underwear and tugs them over my hips. I’m clearly distracted as he strips me bare while he remains fully clothed or I’d demand equal participation from him. He hasn’t even taken his damn shirt off yet and I’m itching to see what he looks like under all that fabric.
“What’s that?” I ask as I eye him curiously.
“I’m supposed to be teaching you, but I don’t think you’re actually paying attention.” He replies sarcastically as he wraps his hand around my dick. My head plops back onto the bed in relief as his hand starts to give me the friction I’m desperate for.
“It’s kind of hard to pay attention to— fuck.“ I whimper as my hips chase his touch. “to— Mmm. To anything right now.”
“Take the compliments, Lance. They’re meant to make you feel as good on the inside as you do on the outside.”
I don’t mean to let it slip out, but laughter bubbles up from my chest anyway. “That is literally impossible.”
“You’re lying in my bed right now, Lance. Nothing is impossible.”
It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying, but I feel like that was supposed to mean something more than what my brain has the capacity to grasp right now.
His hands disappear, leaving a chill behind, so I lean up to see what he’s doing.
He crawls over to his nightstand and yanks open the drawer just long enough to grab some lube.
“I’m going to pretend that was a compliment.” I retort as I gently rest my head back against his bed. This is definitely not the standard mattress and pillows we get in the apartments. It’s way softer than mine. I wonder if he had Ollivander special order it. I should ask for one.
“You don’t have to pretend. It was.”
“Stop it,” I demand with a scowl as I glance back up at him.
“No,” he replies coolly as he makes his way back over to me. “Have you ever frotted before?”
“Uhh…” I glance at his hands and the position he’s sitting in, but I can’t work out what he’s planning to do. “I’m not sure.”
“Has anyone ever touched their dick to yours?” He asks with an air of confidence that calms my nerves. It doesn’t really matter what he’s planning to do, because he said that he would never hurt me. For some stupid reason, I trust him with my body explicitly.
It’s the rest of me that I’m starting to worry about.
“No one’s ever even seen my dick.”
“Eyesight isn’t required for this. Cut me some slack,” he jokes as he pops open the lube and squirts a generous amount in his hand. “I’m trying to be inclusive here, Lance. Blind people have sex, too.”
I can’t help but chuckle as I glance toward the headboard, grateful that he’s keeping the mood light. I grab a pillow with the tips of my fingers and drag it closer so that I can stuff it beneath my head.
“I’m the only person who has ever seen it or touched it in any way.
Aside from you, of course.“ I answer as I fluff the pillow and get myself situated. I need to be able to see what he’s doing if I’m actually going to learn anything today.
Although, with the way his hand felt on my dick, I’m not sure how much I’m going to be able to focus.
I thought that I would be a lot more nervous than I actually am.
I mean, I’ve never been naked in front of another person before, and that seems scary enough on its own, but here I am without a worry in the world.
I honestly believe that I have Roman to thank for that.
Whatever he was doing earlier definitely calmed me down and pulled me out of my own head.
It doesn’t even feel weird to be here, completely exposed for him.
It’s not like it takes a genius to figure out that he’s enjoying himself either.
If his dick got any harder, it would probably pop the zipper on those jeans.
“Close your eyes for me,” he demands as he inches closer to me.
I pinch my brows together in confusion. “What? Why? I’m supposed to be learning.”
“You can open them again in a few minutes. You need to experience it first. Feel what’s happening and let your body’s reactions take the lead before you start analyzing everything I’m doing. The process is simple, two dicks, one hand. I don’t want you overthinking it.”
I roll my eyes before closing them. “It’s like you know me or something.” I grumble in annoyance.
“I know you better than anyone.” He says, the sound of his zipper filling me with anticipation.
There are a lot of things that I keep hidden from the world, things I’ve never even said aloud, but the warmth inside my chest makes me believe that I could.
That Roman would accept every prickly and scarred part of me without even batting an eyelash.
He would look at me, and he’d still see the person I am now, not the person they forced me to be.
I think he’d see my growth, all the effort I’ve had to put into myself, and he’d admire it.
I want to believe that’s true anyway. That the person I’m having this moment with, the one with gentle hands on my body, is the real version of him and every part of what we used to be has been cleansed away.
The desire to open my eyes, to see what he’s doing, is staggering, but I pinch them together tightly to resist the temptation.
I’m sure that he’ll make the wait worth it.
He forces himself closer, using his one clean hand to pull my ass between his thighs.
My dick bounces in excitement, rubbing up against his and causing a shot of pleasure to pulse through my body.
I’ve never felt another guy’s dick against mine, and I already know this is going to be so fucking incredible.
I think back to the velvety soft flesh of Roman’s dick sliding back and forth between my lips and imagine what that’s going to be like against my aching cock.
Impatience takes over, causing me to squirm beneath him.
He quietly chuckles before reaching down and gliding his hand across me so painfully slowly.
It doesn’t matter though, because apparently my imagination is really fucking good, and I’m mere seconds away from losing myself.
“Wait, wait, wait!” I pant out desperately as I wave my hands to make him stop what he’s doing. His hand immediately disappears, and while I’m grateful because I don’t want this to be over yet, I still really need him to touch me.
“You’re leaking everywhere, pretty boy. Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
“You,” I answer truthfully through my labored breaths.
“Mmm. Do tell,“ he demands. I can hear the slick slide of his hand gliding back and forth leisurely, and it’s making me even more antsy. With my eyes closed, the sounds echoing throughout the room bring the memories of that night back in vivid detail. It’s like I’m there all over again.
“That night. In the living room,” I explain as I replay it in my mind.
“The way you forced me to my knees… The way you stole my breath… The way you felt between my lips.” I want to touch myself so bad that it’s fucking painful.
I tighten my fingers around the sheets, desperately clinging onto this moment.
“Do you think about that night often?” He asks as his movements grow faster.
“Every day. Every. Fucking. Day.” I whine out as I try to inch closer to him.
“Me too,” he admits. “Every time I touch myself, I’m thinking about those perfect lips, and that tongue. How fucking bad I want you.”
I startle when his free hand grabs my chin, my eyes popping open and immediately connecting with his.
The clock stop ticking, and the world stops spinning.
Right now, in this moment, there’s not a mile long list of reasons we shouldn’t do this.
We’re here. Together, intertwined, and for the first time in my life I actually feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
It’s me and Roman. Nothing else.
His thumb brushes across my cheek slowly as his eyes bounce around my face. “Open up for me, pretty boy.”