Chapter 4 Oliver
Oliver
I watch Niko’s Dragonfly account and I see a man who has the whole world wrapped around his finger.
He posted a set of pictures where he’s in a leather Gladiator costume, his muscles filling out the straps in all the right places.
His cock is out, resting up against his lower stomach.
In one picture, he’s positioned the camera right between his legs.
“You know this is where you belong,” the caption reads.
And it’s all I think about as I lose control.
Niko turns to gently close my bedroom door, and I watch him from behind, feeling like I’m about to vibrate off this plane of existence.
What the fuck did I just do?
I watch him like I’m studying the person who’s about to destroy me.
And I’m so turned on I practically feel like I’m in restraints, being teased and tortured by someone who knows a whole lot more about sex than I do.
Is it possible to want something so much, for so long, that you disintegrate the moment there’s a possibility it might happen?
Is something going to happen tonight?
With fucking Niko Berlant, of all people?
One of Niko’s other new tattoos is a rose on the back of his upper arm. The red ink shifts a little as he moves to cross his arms. Tendrils of his black hair curl at the ends, and I think of every time I’ve watched him rake his fingers through that hair in videos.
I’m hard just from looking at his fucking arm.
I’ve been achingly hard since he seemed to know, just from intuition, how badly I want to be fucked.
I’m overheating now. I’ve gone too far into territory that I definitely don’t belong in.
Focus.
Just chill out.
I throw off my jacket and loosen my tie to pull it off, then I start to unbutton my shirt. I shove it off and root through my dresser drawers for a T-shirt.
Niko’s silent now, but I see that same liquid fire in his eyes when he turns to look at me again.
“So the freckles are all over your body,” he muses, almost like he’s talking to himself.
I turn backward, looking at him over my shoulder.
He’s looking at my bare back, his eyes dancing over my skin.
I give him the finger. “I don’t have that many freckles. Seems like you’re the one who’s obsessed with me, not the other way around.”
He bites his thumb, then finally tears his gaze away from my skin. “Mmm. I have a question. How did you really find my Camboy account, boyfriend?”
My skin goes molten again when he calls me that word.
Boyfriend.
Something no one’s ever called me before… and it’s coming from his lips.
I clear my throat and try to remember how to speak.
“I’ve been addicted to that dumb site for years,” I tell him. “Noticed your tattoo in a thumbnail and the rest is history.”
I’m putting a hand through one arm of the fresh T-shirt when I suddenly feel his hand close around my wrist.
“Keep your shirt off,” he says softly.
I pause and look at him.
“What?”
He pulls at my arm, bringing me closer to him. He tilts his head to one side, looking at my chest, then my abs, and back up to my eyes. He loosens his grip on my wrist, but keeps his hand there.
“I’ll be your boyfriend for the winter parties. But I want things, too.”
His hand moves an instant, putting his palm firmly against the front of my chest. All at once, he pushes me backward until my ass lands on the edge of my bed.
Oh God.
Holy fuck.
Suddenly he’s above me.
Straddling me again, but this time it’s very different than our fight downstairs. I swallow hard, trying to breathe evenly as my world is filled with him.
He towers over me in this position.
Like I’m a supplicant and he’s my king.
His legs are warm and heavy on top of my thighs. The mattress sinks under our weight, and Niko’s surrounding my whole field of vision for the second time tonight.
I realize it like a jolt through my whole fucking body.
I want him.
I’ve wanted him since the first fucking time he gave me that icy look during our first game against each other.
I don’t like him, but when he’s on top of me like this it doesn’t matter what I like or don’t like. Every cell in my body is responding to his touch, and my cock is throbbing like it’s Pavlov’s fucking dog, because I guess I really am that goddamn desperate.
My ass feels like it’s close to sliding off the edge of the mattress for a second, and Niko can tell. He pushes me back a little further, using the weight of his body to anchor my thighs to the bed.
Every thud of my heart is like a war drum.
Having him straddle me like this makes it far too easy to imagine being in this position for a different reason.
So warm. He’s so fucking warm.
A couple of inches lower and my cock would fit right inside him like this. His ass is pressing down just above my groin. He could sink down slowly onto my dick, gripping tight around me as I held his hips…
Don’t think about that.
Looking up at his eyes doesn’t help.
His dark rows of lashes flick down then up. It should be illegal for someone so infuriating to have eyes that soulful, because he uses them to make me fucking crazy and it works. The way he’s looking at me like he’s already planning to destroy me is making my balls ache.
“You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend? Me?” he murmurs down at me.
I swallow hard. “Yes.”
His warm, spiced scent fills my nostrils and my chest feels tight as I pull in a shallow breath.
I open my hands and put them on the back of his hips, holding him there for a second. But the warmth radiating from beneath his shirt starts to make me think about fucking him again, so I take my hands away, not knowing where to put them.
My lungs feel like they’re too big for my goddamn chest.
I’m caught between two equally torturous decisions.
Letting him stay on top of me like this feels like letting him win…
But I don’t want to push him away. Not yet.
So much.
So much closeness.
So sudden—
“Can’t imagine why you’d want to fake it with me, Oliver.” His low voice goes straight to my dick, just like everything else about him.
He leans over.
He’s wearing the simple silver necklace with a dragonfly charm that I’ve seen in all his videos, and the charm hangs down and lands on my chest as he hovers above me.
The cold metal quickly warms from the heat of my skin, and I feel the small weight of it with each breath I take.
He trails his fingertips along my chest, teasing me as he lightly brushes over my nipple. My cock responds again and I hate myself for it. I’ve spent far too long without being touched.
Way too long.
My entire life.
For as long as I can remember, every touch, every little passing hug or hand on my shoulder has felt like a beacon from some world I’ve never gotten to be a part of.
No one has ever known how much I crave it.
It feels like I’ve been screaming it out inside every moment since the day I knew what sex was.
Let me touch someone.
Or please, God, let someone touch me.
As if on cue, he runs his fingertips over my chest, tracing his fingers between the three biggest freckles that lead downward to my stomach.
My breath hitches as Niko’s fingertips coax goosebumps from my skin, and if I don’t find release soon I’m liable to start sobbing or screaming my goddamn head off.
I’m certain he’s going to revoke his touch soon.
He’s just trying to screw with my mind, tease me until he inevitably clocks me in the jaw again or something worse.
“You mean it when you say you aren’t the one who gave me that molly?” he asks me.
He pinches my nipple gently, then much harder when I pull in a tiny gasp.
“It’s the truth,” I tell him. “And I would have won that game even if you were sober anyway.”
He hums, taking away his touch.
He smells so good it almost pisses me off. I get a hint of the apple brandy now, too, but it’s also just his skin. How can the natural smell of someone’s skin smell so good?
“I never wanted you, despite what the drug made me say that night,” Niko says now, his expression cold. “But I’ve always wanted to shut you up.”
He moves. I hear the faint clinking sound of metal on metal and I realize with a start that he’s unbuttoning his belt.
No shot.
He’s actually going further.
Not just teasing me and revoking it.
He moves to pull down his pants and underwear and when I see him pull out his cock, my whole world goes surreal.
Niko Berlant’s cock.
Holy fucking motherfuck—
I’ve seen it in videos so many times by now.
I even felt like a sick freak, going back to his videos over and over again, edging myself for as long as he did and forcing myself to come only when he was, too.
I liked when he got that new six of hearts tattoo on the back of his hand, because I got to watch it as it wrapped around his dick.
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” I tell him, and I hate that he can probably hear the wavering in my voice.
My eyes focus on the top of another big tattoo that comes up from his thigh onto his hip, long, looping ink on his skin. He reaches down to grip my bulge through my pants and I can’t control the strangled little moan that comes from my throat.
So much contact.
Everything I have been craving for years and years.
My heart feels too big for my chest, like I might explode. I try to force myself to breathe evenly, calm down, and not let on that this is shattering my entire world into pieces right now.
Niko lifts an eyebrow and squeezes my cock a little more. “You’re so fucking hard for me, but I’m the one who’s out of my mind?”
“Christ, Niko—”
“I told you I’ve been waiting to shut you up.”
A moment later his cock is right in front of my face. The tip of his cock hits my lips, warm and firm, like he wants me to kiss it.
Trying to shove inside.
I keep my lips closed, trying to collect any rational thought in my mind.
This is really happening.
My heart’s beating out of control now. He releases his grip on my cock and I miss the feeling already, because it wasn’t enough.
He tightens his hand on my jaw instead, cupping me there, willing me to open up my mouth for him.
“Want my mouth that bad?” I try to say against him.
“Open for me.”