Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CURTIS
Every single atom, molecule, whatever the hell we’re made up of, aches. The sting of my sinuses trying to hold back my emotions, the stretch in my ass as Finn inches deeper inside me, the rawness in my heart … it all fucking hurts.
The only good type of hurt is what Finn is doing. It burns, despite him moving slowly, but at least I know it will be followed up with pleasure so intense I won’t remember the rest of it.
I won’t remember the panic of seeing that front door wide open, the smell of death, or the guilt for not showing up for Beth more.
I’ll only remember how Finn makes me feel—the way he kisses me, distracts me, while the tingling all the way deep in my gut spreads to my toes with every pass of my prostate. The sensation has those dark thoughts that were clouding my mind drifting away on a fuzzy haze.
If all I can feel is the warmth, pleasure, and pain from sex, I won’t be able to think about anything else.
And that’s what I need.
No thoughts. Only feels.
He breaks the kiss but keeps his forehead pressed against mine, breath coming out in shallow puffs. “Are you okay?” His thrusts slow even more.
“Yes. Keep going.” Don’t stop and let me think too hard about this. The point is to have no thoughts, not more.
“Are you sure?”
I let out a frustrated grunt and open my eyes. “Why are you asking that?”
He stops completely and lifts his head, his cock still inside me. “I’ve seen and heard you come so many times I’ve lost count. I know your sounds. I know what your face looks like when you’re enjoying sex. You’re usually a lot more vocal, so if I’m doing something wrong—”
Oh, thank fuck. I thought he was about to initiate some kind of counseling session.
“That’s what you’re worried about?” I cup his cheek.
“Trust me when I say you’re doing great.
I think it’s been so long since I’ve been with someone that my brain has short-circuited at the real-life part.
Plus …” I bite my cheek. Maybe I shouldn’t say this next part and burst his view of Gunner.
“Plus, what?”
“Plus, the stuff you’ve seen … yes, it’s me enjoying myself, but the dirty talk … it’s … kind of a performance.”
Finn freezes for a second and then slumps, his whole weight landing on me. “I can’t believe you said that. It’s like finding out Santa isn’t real.”
I laugh, but with his giantness being giant, he kind of crushes my lungs while I do it.
“I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you porn is exaggerated.
I can break out the dirty talk if you need it though.
” I put on an over-the-top sex voice, even more ridiculous than my Gunner one.
“Please fuck me. You’re so thick. Ruin my hole—”
He lifts his head. “Nope. You’ve ruined me now. From now on, you’re not allowed to talk.”
“Ooh, gag me. Even better.”
His gaze narrows. “More performing or for real?”
“I don’t care what you do to me, so long as you make me come.” I wriggle my hips, making him move the slightest bit inside me. “And I promise to communicate if something is wrong. I’m good. Impatient, but good.”
“How good?” He tests out a harder thrust, and because of our detour, my ass has had the time to stretch and accommodate his thickness.
I’m able to take him easier now, but Finn doesn’t rush.
I immediately regret telling him he can do whatever he wants to me because what he’s chosen to do is take care of me in a way no one ever has. This is supposed to be fucking so I can forget real life for a while. I may be forgetting, but in the meantime, I’m falling into a fantasy of tenderness.
Instead of using my body to get himself off, his moves are more languid. Purposeful. He has a mission, and it’s me. Making me feel every inch of him. All of him. Even the nonphysical parts like his soul.
He’s giving me exactly what I need but the last thing I want.
Yet, when he lowers his head and starts kissing me again, I let it happen. I let him taste me, push his tongue inside my mouth. Even when he picks up pace, there’s still something about the way he fucks me that’s different.
When I thought of being split open by him, this is not what I meant. Each time he pulls out of me, he pauses before pushing back in. It makes me want to cry out for more, but I’m paralyzed by the emotions ripping at the wall around my heart.
We shouldn’t have done this. It’s too … real.
It was messy before when we were leading our double lives. Before, we were Gunner and KingdomHearts. Then we were Curtis and Finn. But now those double lives have collided, and it’s a whole other mess we’re going to have to clean up.
Eventually.
In this moment, it’s impossible to do anything but take everything he’s giving me and hope that the gentle way he has about him isn’t enough to bring down my defenses.
Because this changes nothing.
Even if he’s beautiful inside and out. Even if he not only has an amazing cock but also knows what he’s doing with it. Even if he willingly broke our rules because I asked him to.
Today was the worst day I’ve had in a while, and here he is, making it all better.
Whether it’s the exhaustion from the emotional roller coaster I’ve been on or maybe it’s that Beth’s truth is really sinking in, I can tell I’m close to breaking. Crumpling.
I’m about ten seconds away from being the dude who cries during sex. Because he’s making me feel better? Because of Beth’s situation? It could be either. Or both. The only thing I’m certain of is that the familiar stinging behind my eyes means I could very well embarrass myself here in a minute.
I gently push on Finn’s shoulders to get him off me.
“Still good?” He pulls out and leans back on his knees.
“Yep,” I lie as I roll myself over, putting my ass up and face down to hide how close I am to tears. “I need to be fucked.”
It’s the only safe thing to say with all the millions of other thoughts running through my head.
And this time, as Finn grips my hips tight and the head of his thick cock presses against my entrance again, I fist my sheets and prepare for what I hope is more impersonal sex. I need to disconnect not only from the world but from Finn too.
Finn slams inside me hard but draws back out slowly. The need to come inside me grows with each thrust becoming faster.
This. This is what I should’ve asked for from the beginning. It’s a lot easier to get out of my head when I can’t remember how to breathe. Each peg of my prostate steals oxygen away from my lungs.
I want to reach for my cock as it desperately leaks onto the sheet, but if I do that, it’ll all be over, and then I’ll have to face reality again.
Just when we get to that swimming-in-a-fog level of fucking, Finn moans, and his hand lands on my shoulder. That simple touch, the deep, pleasurable moan, it’s all distinctly Finn.
As soon as he does that, my reprieve from real life is over, but at least it directs my thoughts to Finn and only Finn.
How he’s kind of goofy but so irresistibly hot.
How he cared for Beth today while I couldn’t and how he’s caring for me now.
How he’s been nothing but supportive of how I make my living, nonjudgmental.
He’s so pure, and I’m … lost. A coward. I don’t put myself out there because I can’t handle the thought of rejection.
When it comes to my art and my personal life, I’m a desert when it comes to confidence.
I might be able to put on a front, but it’s about as deep as my Gunner persona.
Sex, I can do. Fucking myself on camera is easy.
Having sex with Finn, with meaning? I can’t hold on any longer, so I bury my head into my pillow and let all those intense emotions out.
“Curtis, I’m close,” Finn rasps. “What do you need? How can I get you there?”
I can barely get the word “Hand” out of my mouth, but I manage, and the next second, his fingers wrap around my hard length and stroke me in time with his thrusts.
That usual buildup, the slow climb toward orgasm, doesn’t exist. It goes from feeling good enough to keep going to me blurting, “Oh holy fuck, I’m coming.”
Sneak attack. Ninja orgasm.
My whole body trembles as Finn pounds into me, and a string of nonsensical rambling falls from my mouth.
“So … flucking flergood.” I sound drunk.
Finn loses any semblance of rhythm until he eventually stills, filling me with his cum.
I can’t tell if my pillow is wet from tears or sweat, but at least sweat is an excuse I can use. He collapses on top of me, and my knees give out. We fall flat onto the mattress, with him still inside me, my ass pulsing.
The crash has a ripple effect, making everything come down with it.
That feeling of an intense orgasm fades quicker than I was hoping. While Finn’s still trying to catch his breath, holding me in a way I’m not even sure he’s aware of, the overwhelm of everything hits me harder than the orgasm did.
He worked as a good distraction in the moment, but now that’s over, and I’m feeling as crummy as ever. Worse, even.
Because now my connection to Finn has only grown, and I can’t let this happen again. Not like that.
Finn finally rolls off me, and as much as I’d love to lie here and cuddle, I won’t do it.
My heart can’t take it. So I stand, search for the underwear I was wearing earlier, and slip them back on.
I’m covered in cum, inside and out, and could really do with a shower, but I’ll fix myself up later.
I just need … out. Out of this room. Out of my head.
“You want water or anything?” I ask.
Finn sits up, his long, lean, and very naked body an easy place for my focus to land. But it’s his frown that pulls my gaze. “Are you okay?”
I force a smile. “You don’t have to keep asking me that. That was great. You were great. I’m good.”
“Why does it feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming?”
“Hey, you just came in my butt.” Yes, at a time like this, break out the jokes.
He laughs, but it’s humorless. “Do you regret it?”
Yes. No. I don’t know.
“The only thing I regret is not getting it on camera.” Maybe if we’d have been filming, I would’ve been thinking about angles and how it looked to an audience.
I could’ve channeled everything into making that look as hot as it felt.
“I, uh, don’t think we should do that again.
You know, unless we’re going to upload it.
” Unless we film it so I can compartmentalize and put my brain in work mode instead of … whatever that was.
I only know enough that I’m certain it can’t happen again.