Chapter 16
GRACEN
Malin’s shoulders are raised when he comes out of the bathroom. He looks tense. His eyes flicker to his left, and it appears as if he’s avoiding something as he hugs the edge of the bed. As soon as he climbs in, he pulls a pillow to his face.
While he’s hiding under the pillow, I examine the space beyond the bed. I’m looking for a shadow or an orb or maybe the distortion of the air. A hint of movement. Anything at all.
My gaze comes back to Malin when he pulls the pillow off his face.
I pull him to my chest and appreciate the way he immediately relaxes. His entire body seems to sag. His breaths come easier. I hug him close, cupping the back of his head as if I can protect him from the world.
It’s not the world that he needs protecting from, though. It’s a sinister ghost.
It’s been a week now, and I’m pretty sure I’m right. Ellory’s messaged me, and he agrees. He texts me every time he sees Malin do something that would indicate someone is there. We’re building our case while I search for the right psychic medium.
“Gracen?”
“Mm?” I answer.
“Are you tired?”
As if his words were a switch, I yawn. Then laugh. “Apparently, I’m tired.”
He nods, snuggling in closer to me.
“Are you not ready to go to sleep yet?”
“Um…” He pushes himself backward to look me in the eye. “I like touching you.”
I grin. “You can touch me if you want to.”
Immediately, his hand comes from between us, and he moves his fingers over my skin.
I might not have noticed for quite some time, but when he comes into my arms, he almost never wraps his arms around me.
They’re tucked to his chest or across his stomach between us, waiting for me to wrap him in my arms.
It’s not long before he says, “Do you want to touch me?”
I study his face. “I do.”
“I thought about what you said when we talked about this last time. There are a few things that I’ve done with you that I didn’t like doing with Ryan.
It felt… uncomfortable. I didn’t like it the way he did.
With you, it’s different. So, I do want to know if I like it when you touch me under my clothes, when I didn’t like it from him, but I also want you to touch me like I touch you.
I want to know if you like what you feel like I do. ”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I will like it, but I don’t say the words.
It’s not impossible to see that Malin shut down all human contact when he was taken from Ryan’s island.
Besides a hug here and there from Ellory or Avory and maybe swimming with a kid from time to time, I’m the only human contact he’s had in years.
I’m the only romantic or sexual touch he’s had since Ryan. I’m not even sure he’s wanted it before now. I’d bet my left nut that he hasn’t.
“Is that what you want to do tonight?” I ask.
He nods. “I’m nervous,” he says quietly.
“If at any time and for any reason you want me to stop, I’ll stop. No questions. No anger. No guilt. Okay?”
Malin nods, but that doesn’t alleviate his anxiety.
“How about we start out slowly? Put your hand up here like this.” I put my hand in the air right above us, palm out.
Malin mirrors it. I press my hand to his and let him look at the difference in the sizes of our hands.
There’s maybe half an inch between the tips of our fingers when I line up the base of our palms. I pull my hand down, my fingers pressing gently along the length of his and down his palm.
I pause and then move back up before pressing my fingers between his and linking our hands together.
A glance at Malin finds him transfixed by our hands.
He’s watching as if they’re about to do a trick.
For a few minutes, I continue to touch only his hand, front and back, exploring all his fingers individually and linking our hands periodically.
I love when the tiniest hint of a smile settles on his lips as he watches.
I trail my hand down his arm. As he always is, he’s wearing long sleeves, and I don’t try to move them.
I keep my hands moving over his shirt, along his arm, still examining his arm as thoroughly as I did his hand.
When I get to his elbow, I gently pinch the loose skin there and ask, “Did you know that this skin is called the weenus?”
Malin laughs. He actually laughs. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him laugh before. “It’s not,” he says, meeting my eyes, laughter still bright in them.
My heart flutters in my chest. My new goal in life is to keep that look on his face forever. I want to hear his laughter regularly. Often. Every day.
“It is. We can look it up sometime. Scientifically, it’s the olecranal skin, but yes, it’s widely known as the weenus as well.”
His smile is much wider now as I move my hand down his arm, feeling the shape of his biceps and over his shoulder. He’s even more relaxed now. I need to find a way to make him laugh often. It puts him at ease.
My hand moves from his arm to his neck, up and over his jawline. His eyes flutter closed when I softly move my fingers over his eyes, nose, forehead, along his lips, cheekbones, around the shell of his ear, and back down his neck.
“Want to roll back so I can explore your other arm?” I ask.
Malin nods but doesn’t open his eyes. Since he’s moving further away from me, I situate a pillow close so he can turn his head and bury his face in it.
What I’ve misinterpreted in the past as him just liking to be surrounded by my things is that my scent seems to be what he’s actually saturating himself in.
I’m not sure what it does, though I would like to ask at some point. Right now, I’m going to continue touching this beautiful man. I give his other hand and arm the same treatment. When I get to his elbow, I pinch the skin there like I had the other, earning myself a wide smile.
His smile transforms his face. He’s always a good-looking man, but he’s absolutely breathtaking when he smiles.
I touch the other side of his head, his neck, his face, and his ears just as I had the first side. Then, I let my hand lie across his neck. “Are you still comfortable with me touching you, Malin?”
He nods, looking absolutely relaxed.
“Would you like me to continue?”
“Yes,” he murmurs.
“The same places I’ve been touching, or would you like me to touch your chest and stomach, too?”
“Yes,” he answers, and his eyes open. “But I want you to touch my skin now. Is that okay?”
“It is with me if you’re comfortable.”
He sighs, nods. Malin sits, his attention turning away from me as he pulls his shirt up.
At first, I think he’s shy, but we’ve been naked together before.
We shower together at times. But when he tosses his shirt aside, he shifts his body toward me before lying down, and I think maybe he’s turning away from someone.
Johnston.
Once again, I examine the area off the bed as I situate him with a pillow. Nothing. Frustratingly, I see not a damn thing.
I turn my attention to focus on Malin once more and begin again with his hands, retracing the path I took before until he’s completely at ease once more.
This time, when I trail my hand down his neck, I continue along his sternum until I reach the end.
My fingers follow the line of his rib cage until I reach his side.
I step my fingers to his next rib and follow it back up to his sternum.
This is the path I take until I’ve traced all his ribs on both sides.
His clavicles are next. Then his nipples and down to his navel. Once again, he’s entirely relaxed. His eyes are closed.
He doesn’t move for a very long time as I continue to explore his torso. Feeling every single inch. Resting my hand over his heart to feel how steady and calm it is.
For a moment, I marvel at it. He’s comfortable with me touching him.
A man who spent his first fourteen years stuck in an abusive situation where he was forced to endure touch that he didn’t like, is entirely relaxed with my hand on his skin.
The realization of how monumental this is for him and that I’m a part of it makes me hold my breath for just a minute.
I’m pulled from the moment when he adjusts. His hands move over his stomach and then to the elastic in his bed pants. I’m absolutely transfixed as he shimmies his pants down and kicks them off.
My eyes scan his legs, his cock, his hips until I see him wince. I look up at his face again, and his face is scrunched before it disappears into the pillow for a minute.
Frowning, I look into the empty space beyond the bed. You will never touch him again, I tell nothing. I will never allow you to hurt him. He’s not yours. He never was.
There’s still no movement. No shifting shadows. No mist or blur or lights.
I turn my attention back to Malin, whose face is still slightly hidden within the pillow. I keep my touch light as I move it along his hips, his thighs. I pull his leg closest to me up, bending at the knee and leaning it against me so I can touch his calf and knee.
It takes a lot of effort not to watch his cock as it stiffens. Grows thicker. Glistens with precum. I’m so focused on it that I don’t realize Malin’s moving his hand until it wraps around my wrist. I freeze.
He doesn’t take my touch away, though. He very deliberately places it on his dick and then lets me go. For a split second as I catch my breath, I stare at where my hand rests on his length. Regaining my composure, I wrap my hand around his cock and very slowly stroke his length.
As much as I’d like to watch me touch him, I turn my attention to his face so I can read his expression. His eyes are hooded, his lips parted. I continue to caress his length for a few more strokes before I explore it as I have the rest of his body.
I recall the way he first touched me and do exactly that, first paying attention to his crown and slit. Then along the length, along his veins. Down to his balls.
His breath catches, eyes flutter. A quiet moan escapes his throat, body wiggling a little.
“Okay?” I ask.
Malin nods.
“If you want me to stop—”
“No,” he says quickly. “Please don’t.”
I kiss the side of his head and continue to watch him as I fondle his balls, rub his dick, and outright toy with him until his entire body feels like it’s writhing.
Then I jerk him for real. I alternate between watching his expression for signs of distress and watching his cock leak for me.
I don’t want to miss the moment he comes.
His gasp fills the room seconds before his cock erupts. Because I’m looking dead on at his slit, it’s as if I’m looking down the barrel of a water pistol. It comes at me, making me jerk slightly in surprise. His stream reaches his chin and covers the length of his torso.
My hand doesn’t stop moving over him until he’s empty, slowing at the end.
I’m not sure what I expect after. Part of me anticipates a freak-out. The last time someone touched him was when he was fourteen. Without his consent. Not giving him a choice.
Malin hums quietly. Yawns. He turns his body slightly, so he’s tucked against mine and falls asleep. I grin as I stare at him sleeping soundly. I need to clean him up at the very least, but for this second, I’m going to let him sleep.
My beautiful Malin.