Chapter 16 #2
He’s... everything I didn’t know I needed, and I won’t let anyone take him from me.
The dull chokes and slurps he’s making are obscene, but there’s dedication in each pulse of his mouth, as if he’s performing his sacred duty, not just pleasuring me.
It’s so damn hot, and the pressure inside me is building too fast.
“Stop,” I rasp, pulling at his hair. “I’m going to feed your other mouth tonight.”
The hot gasp he makes when I pull out tickles my cockhead. “Yes. I want it again. I… I didn’t want to ask…”
I stall in disbelief. He’s perfect. I’m so glad I didn’t kill him on sight. It had to be that sixth sense my mother talked about.
I’m over him, licking his soft mouth, now slick with my pre-cum, but my hand is already dragging down his joggers and pawing at his eager cock.
“No, you should. I want you to tell me. I want you to beg. Go on, what did you want to ask me,” I mutter, ducking to swallow his lovely cock.
It fits my mouth so perfectly it’s making my head spin.
He’s moaning, spreading his legs as much as the pants allow, to give me more access. “I wanted… wanted you to fuck me again, stretch my hole for your dick until it remembers your shape. I want your weight on top of me, pressing down until I can’t breathe, and… and…”
I hum and probe his hole with dry fingers. Ah, the way he arches against me, so very eager, so desperate to let me take him...
“I’ll make you so slick and dirty,” I say sharply, rolling him over in a single push. His buttocks dimple when he pushes his hips forward, fucking my bed, but we’re not done yet.
I grab some lube from the side table and slide my fingers against the pink pucker that’s already taken me so eagerly today. Victor’s first time, and he took to it like a fish to water. I was right to be patient with him.
“I’m still a bit… tender,” he warns when I slide a finger inside him.
“But you want to—”
“Yes,” he rasps. “I want you inside again. I need it.”
He wiggles under me, and I can’t get enough of that round freckled ass. I also rather like him bound and helpless while he’s needy like this. I’ll remember that.
“Go on then. Show me. Fuck yourself on my fingers.”
I don’t have to ask twice. He’s too horny to be shy and pushes against me, even squeezing his tight hole as if to show me how good it will make my dick feel.
I take my sweet time toying with him, stretching him just right, but it feels like edging myself because the wait is torturous when I want to be inside him. At least I get to rock my dick against his sweaty thigh.
It’s sweet torment, but he opens up with more ease than I anticipated, and once that happens, I don’t bother to wait.
He chokes on a moan when I push in, my cock sinking down along with his body, until he’s flat on his stomach and I rest my weight on him, like he wanted.
It feels as if our hearts are beating in unison, and I wiggle my hips, cozying up inside him while my lips find his pulse. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
Victor’s panting, making little moans every time I move. “You’re big, but… I like it. Now that I know what it’s like, I can’t get enough…”
Music to my ears. Only now it hits me how quickly I’ve usually discarded lovers.
I never wanted to connect beyond getting off.
With Victor, I’m hungry to get under his skin.
To be the only thing he thinks of day and night.
When he sleeps, I want to be in his dreams, and when he’s awake, I want him within my sight .
And I shall have all that.
“Good thing you met me first. You’d have been such a slut otherwise, wouldn’t you?” I tease, gently squeezing his jaw and stroking his body with my other hand. He inhales, about to answer when I withdraw from him, then push back into his heat.
Oh, God. He’s so slick and tight. I can’t wait to pump him full of my cum.
“No! I’m not like that,” he whines. “I wouldn’t.”
Cute.
“Oh, you would. You wouldn’t be able to help yourself and just flirt with everyone. But I won’t let that happen. You are mine now, and your holes exist for my pleasure, pet,” I tell him, feeling so very hot as I start to move in a careful rhythm.
He likes that. I can sense it. I’m loving how receptive he is, lacking in self-control. His moans are music to my ears. I could probably get off just listening to him.
“Please…” Victor whines. His head is turned, so I see his pink lips and flushed cheeks as he’s panting. His damp ginger waves are spread over the pillows as if to make a pretty picture on purpose, and it’s only making me fuck him faster.
“Please what?” I tease.
He’s pushing back, aroused, greedy, and I force him to twist his head back, reaching his supple lips. Each nerve in my body throbs when he chokes on air, suddenly squeezing around me so tightly I lose my pace and fuck him even harder. He’s coming. And, somehow, so am I.
He cries out, rocking against me, completely out of it. I imagine he’s crying under the blindfold, and it turns me on even more. He is a cry-baby, and I can’t get enough of his raw emotions. They’re filling a void years of detachment created inside me .
“Please… come inside…” he mutters as if that’s his single wish.
I stretch my arms, arching over him while my hips work at a punishing speed, fucking the contents of my balls into his ass.
The peace that comes immediately after is so overwhelming I struggle not to collapse on top of him.
My head’s spinning by the time I lower myself on top of him and pull off the blindfold, about to fall straight to sleep.
Instead of looking around, he has eyes only for me, all hazy and soft.
“Kisses?” he mumbles. Even the fuck isn’t enough. He always wants more, and I’ll gladly give it.
He’s still bound, with pants pooling around his knees, but neither of us cares, as long as we get to touch. “Come here. You can have all the kisses you want,” I mumble, stroking his cheek as our lips meet.
He watches me like I’m the sun, the moon, and the stars all at once, and then he settles into my embrace for deep kisses that last until his heartbeat finally slows down.
His breathing calmed, he settles his head on the pillow, but then his gaze drifts over my shoulder, to the wall of screens.
“Oh fuck.”
Goddamn it. All I want is to stay curled up around him and let the fatigue pull me to sleep, but now that I remember the existence of the world beyond the bed, the need to double-check everything is like a rock constantly rubbing the same sensitive spot on my foot.
I will not have peace until I empty my shoe.
Or rather, check the status of the security system. And for good reason, because stalling with it has almost cost Victor’s life.
With a final smooch, I pull away and face the wall of monitors. “I-ah... nobody’s been here since Mom died. Sorry about the mess. ”
“Mess?” Victor looks around, dazed. “No, I… I mean… What is all of this?”
“This is... where I sleep.”
My head spins when I get up a bit too fast, but the desk across from the bed provides enough support. I don’t have as many screens as there are cameras, so I check every available image, seeking traces of another break-in. There are none. All the doors remain locked. The traps are armed.
Tonight’s ordeal is over.
On one of the screens I’m actually seeing the sunrise. It’s been a long fucking night.
“Because of the assassins,” Victor fills in for himself. “And… once you’re free of them, is this still where you’d like to live?”
I stall, unsure what to say, because for so long now safety has remained my one and only priority, other dreams no longer feel plausible. But I used to have plans, so many of them. “I would like to travel, create art in places that inspired painters I admire. Italy. Greece. So many places.”
I sit on the bed, looking into a particularly dark screen in which I can see my reflection. My hair is tousled, I’m flushed, and I look so alive. Victor was right about my self-portraits. I will need to show the new me to the world.
In that way, I will travel outside this house in spirit.
“And would you take me with you?”
Just thinking about it feels good. “Once I kill all my enemies.”
He’s smiling when I lie down next to him and pull the covers over us both. “I never even let myself dream of going to Italy. How many enemies do you have left?”
“I... have no idea.”
Saying it out loud feels like an knife to the guts. I’ve not confronted this truth for far too long, sometimes lying to myself that I might find out a number from one of the assassins I captured alive. But I’ve made so many enemies over the years that it’s impossible to know.
The meaning of what I said sinks in for Victor too. I can see it so clearly. First he frowns a little, his eyes widen, then he stares down between us with a troubled expression, probably understanding that any dreams of travelling through Italy with his rich artist boyfriend can never come true.
“I… I’m sorry,” he whispers, as if I’m the one with hands taped together.
Such a precious boy.
I shut off the monitors and slide into bed. It’s almost completely dark now, which makes it easier on me. I don’t have to calm him down by faking a smile. I can just... be.
The wet spot under my hip is cold and sticky, but I don’t care at this point. I’m okay with it as long as I don’t need to move again.
“I’ve made my choice.”
In the complete darkness of this room with no windows, Victor slots into my arms and gently kisses my cheek. “I just… I wish I could protect you.”
Something about it feels painful, and I stop breathing as my arms slide around his lanky form. I don’t think anyone ever protected me since I stopped being a child, and while I’m not sure the proposition is truly welcome, it makes me feel good.
“You will protect my sanity in here.”
Victor just leans in for another kiss. He’s so sweet I can hardly believe he pointed a gun at me in an attempt at kidnapping. I love his warped mind.