20. Chapter Twenty #2
“Fucking hell, Jacob.” He kisses my mouth, one hand on my cock as he presses himself against my hole.
I’m not nearly lubed up enough, water isn’t the greatest, but I don’t care right now.
I know I’m going to feel this tomorrow, and I look forward to it.
It’s been a long time since I’ve let anyone fuck me.
Four years, to be exact. I try not to think about the fact that the last person who fucked me is throwing a party tomorrow, and I’ll have to look at him, knowing where he’s been and what he’s done.
But it’ll be a little easier, I think, because I’ll have the reminder of where Aaron has been. My body will remember every touch, every thrust, and every kiss. He’ll chase those memories away and replace them with perfect ones.
I want that. More than anything.
For Aaron to give me new memories.
He lets go of my mouth, using one hand to line himself up and pushes forth. I grimace and he stops.
“Don’t stop,” I plead. “Please, just… don’t stop.
” Aaron listens without protest, pushing forth a little further.
He pulls back and thrusts forth again. It takes two tries until he manages his way past my resistance, and the moment he bottoms out, we both still.
His right hand still holds my cock, and his free hand holds me against him. His palm rests over my heart.
“Move, please,” I beg, because I’m aching to let go. I’m dying to give in to this feeling because I know what’s on the other side, and I want to feel it.
The bliss, the relief.
The love I crave.Aaron slowly thrusts into me with a groan. He moves achingly slow. I feel everything. Every inch, every movement, every shake of his breath, the water sliding over my skin.
I push back against him. He thrusts forward. I push back. Soon, we build a steady rhythm until he’s fucking me so hard, the damn showerhead rattles. It hurts, but it feels good.
It feels perfect.
His hand on my cock quickens its pace as he slides himself into me and my entire body loosens. I’m going to come. I can’t hold it anymore.
I groan as I fill his hand, words escaping me.
“Fuck!” he yells, loud enough I know the whole house will hear it. I should feel embarrassed, but I don’t. All I feel is blissful pride and ecstatic euphoria as I grin, knowing it’s because of me.
I do this to him.
I make him unravel like thread on a sewing machine.
Little old me.
He pumps my shaft, my cum spreading between his hand and my shaft. I lose myself in the bliss as his cock throbs inside me, filling me with his release.
My bones feel like wet noodles, and I don’t think I can stand.
He’s the only thing keeping me upright.
“Baby…” he mutters against my back. “Fuck.” He’s out of breath and I smile, knowing it’s because of me.
It’s all because of me.
I laugh, the sound smooth and warm.
When he pulls out of me, I feel the juxtaposing pulse; my body trying to hold onto him and expel him at the same time. One foot in the door, one foot out.
“Fucking hell, baby, you’re gonna give me a heart attack,” he says with a laugh.
“Feeling’s… mutual,” I say as spots form behind my eyes. When he lets up, I nearly collapse, but he catches me.
“Shit, are you okay?”
I nod, though I do feel a bit dizzy.
“Mhmm…” I say as he helps me stand. My insides ache in the best way, and I grin stupidly.
“So good,” I mutter as he cleans me up. I don’t stop him.
When I finally gather my senses, the reality of what just happened hits me, and I tense.
I just let my client—boyfriend—Aaron— fuck me. Raw.
I know we’ve already had this discussion, and he assured me he’s clean, and I know I am, and we’ve addressed that, but…
I have never let a man fuck me raw before, and the reality of that is hitting me like a thousand bricks.
“You okay?” he asks, pulling on his shirt.
“Uh huh,” I say, trying to catch my breath. I dress in my underwear, feeling like I might come undone in a whole new way.
“You sure?” he asks, buttoning the buttons. “You look a little pale. Was I too rough?”
I shake my head. “No.”
My heart beats fast. Too fast.
He comes to me, dressed in his shirt and underwear, his hair wet and messy. He hooks one finger under my chin.
“You can tell me you know. You can be honest with me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
I think it’s too late for that. I think he’s already gutted me, and the bloodletting is coming, and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop it.
And I have to. For both our sakes.
Because this won’t end the way I want it to. In a few days, Aaron will take me home, and my job will be done.
And I’ll probably never see him again, especially if he gets the job. The one I’m helping him get.
All this—this wonderful, fantastical trip, the perfect dates, the amazing sex…
It’s all going to disappear.
Because it’s not real.
It’s not fucking real.
“I know,” I whisper, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. “You weren’t. Too rough, I mean. I just…”
My voice catches in my throat as it all comes undone. Every kiss, every touch, every whisper. Baby. Little Prince. Come for Daddy. Would you want me if I was a regular guy? You’re so fucking perfect. Tell me how you want me. I love you.
And then, the awful memories push forth. The ones I thought I buried years ago.
“Louder, baby,” Garrett’s voice demands. He holds my hips with brutal force, his nails digging into my skin as he pushes past my resistance.
I gasp as he snaps his hips, my fingers gripping the sheets. It hurts. More than it should, but I know it’ll be over soon.
Tears start to form, and I can’t stop them. This is bad. This is so bad.
I push my hands into my eyes trying to stop it.
“You’re not done yet,” Garrett says, his hand smacking my ass once again.
I brace for his thrust, my legs shaking from the weight.
“He should be home any minute now…” he breathes, yanking my hair and forcing my head back to look at him and his wicked grin.
“Now, be a good boy and scream my name so my husband can hear it,” he bites.
“And if you do as I say, I’ll let you watch me fuck him.”
“Jacob—” Aaron pulls my hands down. “Look at me—”
How did I let myself get this deep? I suck in a breath as I try to push those thoughts away. It’s in the past, it’s in the past…
“It’s… been a while and just…”
His eyebrows furrow as he looks at me.
“Hey—” He pulls me into his arms and I bury my face against his chest.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. His arms come around me, and he holds me. He holds me.
And I think that’s the worst part of all.
I let out a choked sob. “I’m sorry.”
He rubs my arms. “Nothing to be sorry about, baby,” he says, and I let myself believe the lie.