Chapter 31
CHAPTER 31
M ac
Time can feel like it stretches to infinity and passes by at the speed of light. I experienced both states this week, bouncing between anxiety, guilt, and excitement. Thankfully it’s the latter which is foremost as I pull up outside my mum’s front door, and I take a few minutes to breathe before I climb out of my car and walk up the path. The door opens as I reach it, and Levi, framed by the doorway, looks stunning in a sleeveless T-shirt and jeans. I walk past him and he clicks the door closed behind us.
“You look good,” I say, stepping close and touching my lips softly to his. “Good enough to eat,” I whisper against his cheek and feel him shudder against me.
“C’mon,” he says, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs.
I pause at the entrance to his room, my old bedroom.
“This used to be my room.”
“I gathered that.” He releases my hand and walks further into the space, and I follow, looking round. The furniture is still the same, but nothing remains of me, of who I was. I briefly wonder what my mum did with my stuff, as I never returned to collect any of it. I can’t blame her if she’s disposed of it all.
“I’ve never been with anyone in my room,” I say, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“What, no teenage fumblings?” Levi grins as he sits beside me.
“Ha, no, I didn’t meet anyone until I went to university.” I don’t want to elaborate any further. I want to be with Levi, not give a run down of my sex life—not that it would take long.
“Does your mum . . . ?” Levi leaves the question hanging.
“Know I’m gay? Yes. I knew pretty much as soon as I hit puberty, but I came out to her at fourteen.”
“What was her reaction?”
“You’ve met her, right?” I counter, and he smiles his understanding. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she’d already known and was just waiting for me to tell her. She never said anything, though.”
“She’s amazing.”
“She is, but if I wanted to talk about my mum I wouldn’t have waited until she was out to come over.” I twist to the side and capture his jaw with my hand, kissing him.
He breaks off and moves. He sits, straddling my lap, and tangles his hands in my hair. His eyes are the grey of the North Sea on a winter’s day—currently calm but with dark clouds on the horizon that threaten a storm later. He kisses me, his tongue searching, and I let him in, enjoying him devouring me as I slip my hands under his T-shirt, running my fingers up his back, feeling his skin.
He pulls back slightly and I chase his lips with my own, but he puts his hands on my chest, stilling me.
“I got ready for you.” He gives a little smile.
“Ready?” It takes a second for my brain to catch up with what he’s saying. Dear god, my already hard cock twitches at the thought and a brief visual of him prepping himself.
“Fuck Levi, that’s so hot.” This time I lurch forward because I need to kiss him again, long and hard.
I want to see him, to look at his tattoos. I push up his T-shirt and he lifts his arms to let me slide it over his head. The patterns on his skin are so exquisite they take my breath away.
“You’re so pretty?—”
“Don’t call me pretty.”
My view changes as I land flat on my back at the same time pressure on my lap disappears.
Confused, I raise myself on my elbows to see Levi standing across the room, eyes flashing like a hellcat, his hands fisted like he has his claws out.
“What just happened?” I ask, trying to keep calm though every ounce of me is screaming what the fuck. Nothing kills a boner quicker than being shoved onto your back and being given murderous glances. Though it does give him a brutal beauty, so maybe not.
“I said, don’t call me pretty,” he hisses through clenched teeth.
Okay, this looks like something I’ve triggered rather than caused. I can work with that.
“Can you tell me why?” I keep my voice neutral, holding back the frustration at being interrupted. His shoulders slump and he relaxes slightly, unclenching his fists.
“No one has ever used it in a nice way.” The sad tones in his voice tear at my heart. I scoot backwards on the bed so I’m lying, half propped up with my back against the wall. I pat my hand on the bed beside me.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
He hesitates for a minute and then climbs onto the bed beside me, and I put an arm round him, tucking him into my side. I gently stroke his skin, giving him time to decide what to tell me.
“My old man was the first to call me that,” he starts, and I keep up a slow rhythm of stroking my hand along his back.
“He used it to belittle me, telling me I was useless and too pretty to be a real man. Whatever that means. He was an abusive man. I’m not sure whether he thought it would toughen me up if he called me names. I doubt it. He drank a lot too. My mum also bore the brunt of his abuse, verbal and physical.”
My jaw clenches listening to him. I’m so angry on his behalf. Abuse is never acceptable. No one ever needs to go through that. I force myself to breathe slowly.
“My mum also used to tell me that being pretty was bad, but I think she echoed my father out of fear—frightened for me. Well, I used to think that, maybe to forgive her for never standing up for me, or herself. She used to whisper promises to me as I went to bed, that one day we’d escape. We’d leave my dad.”
He falters and I give him a minute, never stopping my hand. When he doesn’t carry on I prompt softly.
“What happened?”
“My mum escaped and left me behind,” his voice cracks.
Oh fuck! My heart squeezes that he’s had to go through that.
“Pretty was used to bully me at school too. Eventually I couldn’t take it any longer and I learned to stand up for myself. I hit another student, breaking his nose, and of course I got into trouble for it, not him for the months of taunts he gave me. When my mum found out her only words were, ‘I was afraid you’d turn out like your father.’ That night she left us both.”
I tighten my hold round Levi, wanting to hug all of the hurt out of him. He places his arm over my chest and allows me to hold him close.
“For a while I guess I was a bit like him. I certainly didn’t go looking for trouble, but when it found me I pushed back. My father didn’t care if I got into trouble. I learned to fight, and I hung around with those who had use of those skills, so I ended up in juvie. It was probably the most settled part of my life. I didn’t like it, I didn’t make friends, but it made me believe I could be more than the person I was at that point.”
Now he’s started again, he doesn’t seem to want to stop. His fingers start to play across my chest and a part of me wishes I’d taken my T-shirt off too.
“Of course, you know what happened when I got out of juvie. I wanted to be different, but then I guess I couldn’t be.”
He twists his head to look at me. “Do you know what it’s like? In prison?”
I’ve visited prisons lots of times, and I know the people in them. I put a lot of them there. I’ve also heard stories, many of them from people who have been inside, so I have a pretty good idea. But I’ve never experienced it for myself.
“Not in detail,” I say. Whatever he says, I know I’m not going to like it.
“Do you know how to survive in prison?”
I shake my head, letting him tell his own story. He drops his eyes, turning his attention back to his hands on my chest.
“There’s always a hierarchy in there. Someone at the top of the food chain. They aren’t necessarily the biggest or the strongest, but the one with the most influence. You discover who that is and then you offer yourself up to them. For protection. If you’re big and strong, you can be used for protection within the hierarchy. If you’re pretty, then they have other uses for you.”
My hand stills on his back. What the actual fuck? I do know what happens in prison, but I had never associated it with Levi.
“Please don’t judge me,” he whispers so sadly that my heart cracks in two.
“I would never do that.” I kiss his hair. “I think you’re brave and smart.” I do, because I’ve heard far worse stories. He gives a self-deprecating laugh and my heart completely shatters that he could think so little of himself.
“Most of them seemed to have some trouble accepting they were fucking other men, wanting it and hating it at the same time. Pretty was a term they used a lot, probably convincing themselves it was easier, less masculine. That, along with bitch and princess, depending on what mood they were in.”
He stops, seemingly at the end of his story. My blood boils that he’s had to go through that.
“Did they hurt you?” I say slowly.
“No,” he replies bluntly, in a tone that tells me he wouldn’t say even if they did. Probably for the best, because if they did, I’d want names, and prison wouldn’t be safe enough for them.
He releases a big sigh.
“Sorry. You didn’t come here to hear my sad story. I’ve ruined our time together.”
“Hey,” I say, and wait until he looks at me. “I came here to be with you. If this is all we do then I’m happy with that. Spending time with you is what I want. I’m just sorry for what you’ve been through.” This is probably the longest time we’ve spent alone in each other’s company.
“I survived,” he says, as if that was all he could do, and I wrap my arms even tighter round him, wanting to make it all okay for him.
“Thank you for telling me.” I squeeze him a little more. His return squeeze is all the answer I need. If I wasn’t deep enough already, I’m falling even harder for him.
We don’t move or speak for several minutes and I’m content to just have him in my arms.
Then he plucks at my T-shirt.
“Can you take this off?”
I waste no time in sitting up and stripping it off. He kneels up and turns to sit astride my legs.
He runs his hands down my chest before he leans down and starts placing kisses on my torso.
“Are there any other words I should avoid?” I ask, not really wanting a repeat of earlier.
“Only the ones I’ve said,” he replies, kissing across my shoulder.
“So I can call you kitten, then?”
“Kitten?” He pulls back and stares at me, his nose wrinkling in confusion. It’s adorable.
“Uh-huh.” Now I know I’m not going to get a bad reaction, I want to tease him a little.
“I’m not a kitten.” His voice is almost scornful.
“No, you’re a hellcat, all teeth and claws. But I reckon I could get you to purr like a kitten.”
“You’re daft,” he huffs. Yes Levi, I’m daft for you. But I take it as a yes.
“Challenge accepted.” I flip him over so he’s laid on the bed and I’m kneeling between his knees.
“Prepare to purr, my kitten,” I say, reaching to unbutton his jeans. He just smiles, like he still thinks I’m daft.
He wriggles out of his jeans as I pull them off him, and I take a minute to marvel at his beauty, at the tattoos that extend down his legs. I hope there’s a story to them all and one day he’ll tell me.
I fetch a condom and lube from my jacket and throw them down on the bed next to him. Then I take off my own jeans before kneeling back between his legs.
I lean down and kiss him, and he reaches up and tangles his finger in my hair. The touch of his cock against mine sends a jolt of electricity through my body, and I reach between us and take hold of us both. Levi gasps into my mouth and I catch his breath, wanting all of him to be a part of me. The friction from his cock is exquisite but I have other plans, and even then it’s a feat of willpower to let go. Levi thinks the same, as he hisses when I remove my hand.
“Hellcat,” I tease, as I break off the kiss and sit back on my heels. I open the condom packet and quickly roll it down over my cock, then I add some lube and can’t help giving myself a few strokes. Just the sight of Levi below me, exactly as I dreamed of, is almost enough to make me come. I squeeze more lube into my hands and start to stroke one of them up and down his cock, seeing him settle back into the bed.
With my other hand, I run a lubed finger round his pucker, teasing him, watching him writhe and moan, but I want him purring. I breach him with one finger and he pushes down, wanting more. He wasn’t wrong that he’d prepped himself earlier, but I’m in no rush. I keep up a slow rhythm on his cock as I add a second finger, driving in as far as I can go, and I move my fingers in time with stroking his cock, adding a twist with both, my hand squeezing his head slightly as my fingers graze his bundle of nerves.
His eyes flutter closed and his lips part as I watch him come undone to my touch.
“Purr for me, kitten,” I croon, and small incoherent sounds escape from his lips as his body starts shaking.
It’s not enough, I need to feel him. I want to be buried deep inside him when he comes. I withdraw my fingers, hearing his small whimper at the loss—I could become seriously addicted to how needy he is. I waste no time in replacing my fingers with my cock, and he lifts slightly to accommodate me as I bottom out. His moans become more urgent as I pick up the pace, thrusting into him over and over again.
“You’re so tight, Levi, so perfect. I’m not going to last long.” I gasp as I feel the tingling as my balls draw up.
He arches off the bed and cries out, cum covering his chest, and I give one final thrust and chase his orgasm with my own. He shudders to a stop and then stretches languidly as I slip out of him. He slowly blinks his eyes open.
“I can’t feel my body.” He smiles. “I feel boneless. Don’t expect me to move for a week.”
I climb up the bed and lie beside him, wrapping my arms around him. He nuzzles into my neck and I don’t want to move for a week either.