Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
LARSON
He tastes of promises. How cliché is that? I swear to fuck, I can feel the universe shift around me. Planets make a low thrumming sound as they adjust their course. Their movement in space vibrates along my bones.
I’m startled when Dylan pulls away, shaking his head. “I can’t be the other guy,” he says, eyes glassy. He’s so stunning. I’ve never seen another man like him in my life. “I can’t. No matter how much you’re supposed to be mine.”
I shake my head, even before he stops speaking. My brain spins like it’s in a blender at his words. Mine. “We’re not together. We never were.”
Dylan stares at me. “Forgive me for not believing you.”
“He’s someone I knew in high school ,and we came to Kala to see how we hit it off. We were never together. I swear to you.”
“But… you came here together.”
“Yes, but we’re not together. We… I suppose for all intents and purposes of understanding, we broke up an hour ago. I’m no longer here with him, Dylan.”
He scowls, and it makes my stomach churn. How do I fix this?
“You mean it’s my fault you’re not together, right?”
I sigh and drop onto the bench. “No. It’s my fault.
The moment I saw you, he stopped existing.
I’ve been an asshole because I didn’t know how to, uh, break up with him since one, we weren’t together to begin with, and two, I felt guilty because, as you pointed out, we came here together.
Honestly, the kindest, most considerate thing I could do was let him enjoy the island without me since I’ve been so damn infatuated with you since the second I saw you. ”
Dylan’s lips are parted as he stares at me. I don’t think he’s breathing. He hasn’t blinked or so much as twitched since I started talking.
When seconds tick by and I think he’s stuck in the matrix, I say, “Dylan?”
“You feel it?” Dylan whispers. “This feeling of absolute certainty that we’re supposed to be together?”
My shoulders sag in relief. “Yeah. It’s the most bizarre feeling.
Like I’ve waited for you to come home. It was strangely familiar…
When I walked into the studio and saw you, even before you turned around, it felt as if I’d just come back from hockey and you were at home waiting for me.
Like I’ve done so a hundred times before. And yet…”
“Brand new,” Dylan says. “You were made exactly for me, and I’ve been waiting for you to find me.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not with Tomy anymore,” he says.
“I never was. I was here with him, but never with him. I swear to you.”
Dylan rubs his arm, his eyes still never leaving mine. “I…” He inhales deeply and then nods.
Several beats pass. Okay. Important shit out of the way. “Now what?”
Something changes abruptly, and Dylan’s moment of doubt is gone. Such stunning confidence replaces it that I’m consumed in everything that is Dylan Spruce.
He walks toward me, placing his hands on my shoulders. His much smaller frame stands between my spread legs, and he’s only barely taller than me, even while sitting. His eyes bore into mine. I’m pretty sure I’m turning to putty right now.
“Come home with me,” he says. “I want to wear you like a bodysuit, Larson.”
A shiver of anticipation streaks down my spine like lightning, ending in my cock as it pulses with need. My thoughts concerning Dylan haven’t actually been all that sexual, but my body sees things very differently.
“Yes.”
He takes my hand in his, and for a minute, I just stare at the size difference between our hands. It’s almost not a true reflection of the size difference between us as a whole. I’m more than a foot taller than this man. I probably weigh twice what he does.
Dylan pulls me to my feet. I practically shake with anticipation. Some kind of finality is going to happen when we get to his house. Not signaling an ending between us but solidifying something.
We walk down the road in silence, hand-in-hand. I’m surprised at how similar the streets look to suburban neighborhoods. If I didn’t know I was on a tropical island, I could be anywhere in the world right now. This place was plucked from the mainland somewhere and plopped on an island.
Except… there’s a shocking lack of cars. Only about half the houses actually have driveways. How fucking weird that looks.
The house Dylan brings me to is small. In the US, I think this might be considered a tiny home.
“Cute, right?” Dylan asks as he lets us in. “The housing that becomes available most often is the really small houses. Those not designed with families in mind.”
“Really?”
He nods. “There’s a housing problem here. Contrary to what so-called news outlets claim on the mainland, something is being done about it. The owners of Kala are building new islands to address this issue.”
My eyes widen. “They’re building islands?”
Dylan grins. “Yeah. Housing truly is a huge problem. There’s nowhere for young people to move when they become adults.
There’s not enough housing to accommodate the number of staff needed to make the island run.
Obviously, on an island, that isn’t easily addressed.
It’s stupidly unrealistic for all these idiots in other countries badmouthing the islands as if we can magically make more land appear overnight to fix the issue. ”
“That’s a thing, huh?”
He rolls his eyes. We’re standing just inside the door now, and I have a clear view of the entire house.
“Yes. There are those who have a single visit without actually staying for any true length of time who place quick judgment on Kala because of this and other little quirks that come with small-town island living. In reality, they think they’re far too superior and that their shit doesn’t stink. ”
I laugh. “The world is full of those people.”
“Far too true.” He takes my hand and pulls me through the open door and into his bedroom.
This moment could be really awkward. I’ve had several hookups that are awkward as fuck. Sometimes just at the start, before we get going, and sometimes throughout the entire encounter. The kind of hookup you want to just wash away and forget when you get home.
But even as we stand at the side of his bed, his hand in mine, and stare at each other, I don’t feel that awkwardness between us. There’s no hurry.
“I’ve never been with someone as big as you,” Dylan says, his eyes looking up and down my body. “You’re a giant compared to me.”
I grin. “You want to let me kiss you again?”
“You better,” he says, sniffing. “It ended far too soon. I barely remember what you taste like.”
“Mm,” I answer, leaning down to kiss him. His arms come around my neck, and he pulls himself up to wrap his legs around my waist. I’m not sure if I want to devour him or for him to undo me completely. I think I’m open to either. For both. I want both. The biggest question is which I want first.
“There’s so much I want to do to you,” Dylan says as I lick along his neck. “I want to tie you up for real and truly wreck you. I want to watch my cum trickle out of your ass as you lie on my bed, trembling.”
“Jumping right to bareback, huh?” I ask.
Dylan lets his head fall backward. “I guess I don’t know. We don’t know each other, so it’s probably wisest to use condoms.”
I don’t miss the disappointment in his tone. “This might come out as an accusation, and I promise I don’t mean it like that. My time off from hockey is very limited, and I don’t have time to be sick, so I can’t risk it.”
“You’re right. That’s accusatory.”
I nip his neck, earning myself a shiver in response.
“How about, other than that, you have free rein to do with me what you want? You can tie me up and fuck me all night. Or I can take you however you want.”
He’s shaking his head before I finish the last sentence. “I like topping. People look at me and see small, but I have a bigger dick than you might think, and I much prefer topping.”
“Good. Seems we’re compatible.”
“Of course we are. Haven’t you been listening?” He brings his head back from where he’d had it hanging to give me access to his neck. “You were made for me,” he says, eyes staring straight into mine.
“Then I’m not going to tell you anything else about my bedroom preferences. I want to see if that’s true.”
“Sounds like a challenge,” he says, and I can see his personality begin to truly shine through.
Now that we’re beyond the confusion about what’s happening between us—mere strangers—and Tomy is out of the picture, we have a baseline understanding.
Dylan’s true colors are peeking out at me, and they shine brightly. I can’t wait to see all of him.
I grin and don’t confirm or deny. His confidence is apparent, and I have very little doubt that he’s right. We were made for each other.
“Undress,” he says as he drops his legs from where they’re locked around my waist. I set him on the floor and do as I’m told.
He discards his clothing, tossing it onto the floor with mine.
The cute headband in his hair is set on top of a set of drawers.
“Hands and knees,” he instructs as soon as I’m naked while he heads for the bedside table.
It feels very déjà vu from the last time I was in his studio, but I don’t see him pull any rope from his drawer. Just supplies for our activities.
“I was going to ask how you like it, but if you need proof that we were made for each other, I’m not going to ask. I’m going to tell you what I’m going to do instead.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’m going to stretch you open—and probably enjoy myself a little since I’ve been thinking about this sexy hole since you showed it to me two days ago as I took pictures of it.”
I shiver. Fuck. I forgot about the camera entirely, even though he never hid that he was taking photos. That’s what I was there for, after all, right? Mention of them makes my heart pound rapidly for a second. How slutty do I look in them? I’m going to be mortified, aren’t I?
“Then I’m going to stick my dick in you and fuck you until the fireworks begin. I want you to be on my cock when the clock strikes midnight.”
His hand grips a fistful of my hair, and he forces my eyes to his. “Think you can handle that?”
I know what time it was when I left Tomy at Makara and headed to Ceto, where Dylan’s studio is. It was barely past one. That means the latest it could be is probably three.
“Eight hours?” I ask, hearing how rough my voice is. As if he’s already been fucking me. “I’m not doubting your stamina, but… really?”
“Okay, I’ll give you a break halfway through.”
I try to hide my smirk. Can he see the lust in my eyes like I feel it’s shining out like a beacon? “Let’s see what happens.”
He releases me and does exactly as he says. I’m sure he’s stretching my hole as he preps me, but it feels like he’s toying with me instead. Rubbing my walls, barely stroking my prostate. Making my entire body shake with anticipation.
When he finally begins working his dick into me, I can’t help but think how utterly perfect his dick is. The exact size I crave—big enough to hit literally everything but not so big that I think I’m going to be torn apart.
Just as he was in the studio, moving me around like a puppet, so does he now. It isn’t until I’m writhing under him that I realize he moves me not to feed his own pleasure but to fuel mine. Every single position is for me. To make me feel good.
We have a few breaks in the eight hours, but just as he said he’d do, he’s fucking me like a piston while I fill the room with moans when fireworks light up the room like a kaleidoscope.