Chapter 28
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
PRESTON
I know what Sawyer’s doing—he’s trying to distract me, to calm me down. And it’s working. I can’t remember my parents’ names, never mind string together a coherent sentence. All I can focus on is getting Sawyer’s dick inside me.
I flip onto my hands and knees while Sawyer grabs the lube, but when he comes back, he flips me over again.
“I want to watch your face as I open you up,” he explains at my questioning look.
He takes my knees, pushing them up toward my face. “Grab those.”
I suck in a gasp as a shiver of perverse pleasure ripples through me.
My feet are sticking up in the air, my knees are spread wide.
My buttocks are lifted off the bed, ass, balls, and dick on full display.
Sawyer kneels in front of me, his hand pets the back of my thigh, and his eyes devour me. He’s eating me up, consuming me.
“You’re so gorgeous, Preston,” he says in a hushed voice. I don’t need to understand social cues to hear the awe and reverence in his tone. Awe and reverence for me—me.
A few months ago, I wouldn’t have believed it.
I would’ve written it off as some weird unspoken communication thing I didn’t understand.
There are still moments when I have my doubts, but over the past weeks and months, Sawyer’s been training me to accept the truth: he loves me, all of me, unconditionally.
And I’ve been doing my best to be worthy of that love.
Even so, Sawyer’s the truly gorgeous one.
Rounded pectorals that make the perfect pillows for my head.
Neatly stacked abdominal muscles that are visible even when he’s relaxed.
Those two deep lines at his hips that form an enticing V.
Wide shoulders. Narrow hips. There isn’t a single thing about him I would change.
A sound escapes my throat, a mix between a moan, a whimper, and a choke.
I don’t know what it means or what message I’m trying to convey.
I just… want. Need. The urge is this sentient thing, it lives inside me and yet it has a mind of its own.
It knows things I don’t know. It understands things I don’t understand.
The urge grows underneath my sternum, expanding through my chest and up toward my throat. It gets so big I can’t contain it and it comes out as that indecipherable sound.
But Sawyer seems to understand exactly what it means. He squirts a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, then rubs them together to heat up the viscous fluid. There’s no shock of cold when he touches my hole, just lovely, soothing warmth.
With a look of utter concentration, Sawyer draws circles around my hole before pushing one digit inside. I push out the way he’s taught me and his finger sinks in. He doesn’t stop until his knuckles bump up against my flesh and another one of those sounds escapes from me again.
Sawyer’s gaze locks with mine, and I’m enraptured by it. The heat. The desire. The unwavering focus, trained exclusively on me. That urge inside me grows under his scrutiny, compressing my lungs, blocking my airway. My heart thuds heavily against it, the reverberations echoing through my body.
My fingers dig into the backs of my knees, keeping myself open and exposed to him. I’m helpless, defenseless, completely at his mercy, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Sawyer pushes another finger into me. He’s so gentle there’s no burn, no pain whatsoever.
Just a pleasant fullness that I love. I adore having him inside me.
His tongue, his dick, his fingers. It doesn’t matter what.
Just the knowledge that a piece of him is in my body sends a thrill to the very core of my being.
I want to keep him there always and forever.
I want to carry a piece of him with me wherever I go.
Sawyer penetrates me with his fingers, his eyes flicking from my face to my ass and back again like he can’t decide what he wants to watch more.
He twists his fingers around, rotates, and scissors them.
He finds my prostate and gives it a light massage.
Pleasure shoots through me, waves of it that set fire to my insides.
I can feel the heat rising from my skin, making the air around us thick and heavy.
“Sawyer,” I manage to get out between my unintelligible grunts and groans. “Please.”
His eyes swirl blue and green as he takes a shuddering breath. With his fingers still inside me, he slicks up his erection.
“Please, Sawyer, please.”
He pulls his fingers from me and immediately replaces them with his dick. The rounded head pushes against my hole. I bear down and he slides in, steady and unrelenting, until he’s fully sheathed inside my body.
“Yes, yes, yes.” He fits me so well and fills me so perfectly. I clench around him, loving how deep he goes, how he stretches me.
Sawyer takes my nipples between his fingers, pulling, pinching, twisting, rubbing. They’re already so tender from before, and now, as he works them over, the pleasure tips closer to pain.
But my dick doesn’t seem to mind. It pulses and releases pre-cum with every pull, pinch, twist, and rub. Then Sawyer starts to move, thrusting into my ass while turning the dials on my nipples. I’m still clutching the backs of my knees, holding myself open for the dual assault on my body.
Ass to nipples. Nipples to ass. Sawyer handles me like I’m a piece of gym equipment that needs to be aligned just right. And all I can do is lay there and take it, absorb the sensations, suffer the onslaught.
“Sawyer,” I sob. “Sawyer, please!”
“Shh,” he admonishes. “Don’t make me gag you.”
I gasp at the suggestion, back arching, ass clamping down hard around him.
Sawyer cocks an eyebrow. “Or maybe you want me to gag you? Hmm? Would you like that, Pres?”
I don’t know. I’ve never been gagged. It’s not something I’ve ever had to consider and I have no clue whether I’ll like it.
But the way Sawyer says it, so casually, like it’s something he does every day…
I want it. I want to try it at least. And yet, all that comes out of my mouth is one of those animalistic sounds.
“Fuck, Preston.” Sawyer’s wild gaze darts around us and lands on my underwear still tucked into my pajama pants. He pulls it free and balls it up in his fist. “Open up.”
I tentatively open my mouth and Sawyer gently pushes my own underwear past my lips.
I cry out at the unfamiliar sensation of fabric on my tongue, between my teeth.
I can smell the scent of my own pre-cum, the musky aroma of my own arousal.
There isn’t so much fabric that my jaw is uncomfortably wide, but there’s absolutely no denying I’m properly gagged. My cry is muffled.
I cry out again, louder this time—still muffled.
“That’s it, babe. Let it all out. Be as loud as you want.” Sawyer's fingers go back to my nipples and when he touches them this time, I scream. “Fuck.” He pulls back and slams into me. “You look so fucking hot, Pres. You have no idea. Fuck.”
I can barely hear what he’s saying. My brain is too preoccupied with other inputs—the pounding against my glutes, the pain at my nipples, my own voice, directed back at me through the underwear gag.
Sawyer pinches lines up and down my torso, then rakes his nails over the tortured flesh.
Once my front is completely red from his attention, he moves to the backs of my thighs, my calves, every inch of me he can reach.
And all the while, his hips set a steady pace, and his dick pistons in and out of my hole.
“Fuck, Preston, fuck, I’m so close.” Sawyer grabs my ankles and pulls them toward him. My knees slip out of my grasp as he straightens my legs and drapes them up his body. My calves are on his shoulders and Sawyer turns to sink his teeth into one.
I scream again, scrabbling for something to hold on to, something to anchor me. Above my head, I latch onto the wooden headboard and I hang on for dear life.
“Yes, that’s it. Keep your hands there. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” Sawyer bites my other calf, hard enough that he leaves marks. He grabs the tops of my thighs, pulling me into the thrust of his hips.
“Are you close, babe? Are you going to come? Because I’m going to come. I’m going to flood you with my cum. You like that, don’t you? When your hole is all sloppy and wet with my cum.”
I cry into my gag and nod frantically. I do love it when Sawyer comes deep inside my ass. I love trying to keep his cum inside me as long as I can. I love the slick, slimy feeling as it leaks out of me.
“You going to come for me, babe? Can you come hands-free?”
We both turn our gaze to my erection, so engorged with blood the head is angry and red. My belly button is full of pre-cum and even more has trailed down my sides, wetting the sheets under me.
“Fuck, you look like you’re about to burst.”
I feel like it too. My orgasm hovers just outside my reach. I can brush it with my fingertips, but I can’t quite grasp it. I sob desperately, thrashing around as I strain for it.
“Need a little help?” Sawyer bites my calves again. Left and right, up to my ankles, down toward my knees.
I nod, pleading with my eyes. I want to come, so badly. I want Sawyer to make me come. I want to give him my orgasm. I want every orgasm to be his.
“I’ve got you, babe. I’ll help you come. I’ve always got you, babe. Always.” He reaches between my legs but completely bypasses my dick and balls. Instead, he goes for my perineum. He pinches the flesh, twists it, and presses down.
Sharp pain shoots straight to my prostate and quickly metamorphosizes into exploding pleasure. White. Blinding. Fire. Muscles so taut they spasm. Lungs burning. Heart stuttering to a stop. Static in my ears.
It goes on and on, pulse after pulse, radiating from my prostate, rupturing every cell, frying every nerve ending. Tears pour from my eyes, snot from my nose.
It only stops when Sawyer’s hips falter and lava pours into me. It’s hot, scorching—the perfect antidote to the painful pleasure wracking my body.
I’m barely conscious when Sawyer lowers my legs. I instinctively wrap them around his waist, locking him into place. I don’t want him pulling out yet. I want to keep him inside me.
My hands are stiff when I force them to release the headboard and my shoulders ache when I reach for Sawyer. He lowers himself onto me, his weight comforting and familiar.
He tugs the underwear from my mouth and I wiggle my jaw side-to-side.
“Sore?” He rubs gently at the joints.
I shake my head and hum happily.
Sawyer nuzzles behind my ear, then buries his face into the crook of my neck. His breathing slows gradually, hot breaths over my skin.
I never knew it was possible to have something like this. That two people could be so close and feel so right together. Like we were made for each other. Like we were meant to be.
Whatever happens tomorrow with my parents, no matter how they react. I’ll always have Sawyer, and he’ll always be more than enough.