Chapter 26 #3
I shake my head, but don’t safe-word, and soon enough he’s releasing my throat but kissing me silly.
He alternates between stealing my air with his lips and stealing my thoughts with pressure on my throat, giving me dirty talk and stroking my dick while he does it.
The lack of air, the lack of blood… It spins me right back into that mindless place where nothing else exists.
No past, no future, just him and I and this moment and he’s so big and he’s so everything and I’d do anything for him, anything–
“You’re allowed to cum, if you want,” he murmurs into my ear, biting me there, bringing me back to myself.
My hands are wrapped tightly around his wrist, the one at my throat, and I’m writhing under his grip, spiraling, spiraling–when did he get me flat on my back?
How long has he been pinning me down like this, jacking me off while laying over me, so intimate and close?
It’s so fucking good that I think I might–
“Young-gi–” My voice wavers. “Daddy, fuck, please Young-gi, Young-gi!”
I sound afraid. I am afraid. I’m not sure why.
He leans over me, his voice rough and husky and promising me all kinds of things. All kinds of permanent things.
“I’m here,” he says to me, right into my mouth, pulling the air from my lungs before I can use it to clear my head. “I’m here for you, Tommy. You can do it, you’re alright. You can do it, sweet boy. I’m right here.”
“I can’t!” I wail, but it’s a lie because I am.
I’m cumming hard, my whole body feeling dipped in hot lightning, zapped through every nerve ending, ripped in half and torn apart.
My dick throbs in his grip and I groan loud and long, my vision dark and spotty.
The orgasm lasts forever and I don’t know if it’s because of the breath play or the blood play, but either way, it goes on and on.
When I blink next, I’m curled on my side on the floor of Young-gi’s war room, and he’s holding me close, hiding my face against his chest. He runs his hand down my back, humming tunelessly to me in a comforting way.
My fingers dig into his back, clutching him to me, and I finally relax with a huge sigh of relief.
“Fuck,” I huff, feeling wrung out. “Shit…. Goddamn.”
“Such a good boy,” Young-gi rumbles. “You deserve to feel good.”
I stiffen. Anxiety and shame slither through me and I hide my face even closer to him, shaking like a leaf. “Whatever,” I choke out, horrified to realize I’m crying now. “Fuck you.”
“I’ve got you.” He keeps petting me. “You’re alright.”
“Shut up.” I grit my teeth and try to swallow all my tears back in, try to shove them back down inside. “I’m fine.”
Crack! A sharp smack on my ass makes me jolt. “If you need me to give you a reason to cry, I will.”
I grip his shirt and consider it. Maybe I do need a reason. But as I stare at his chest, everything gets watery again and I start crying with no excuse at all. “Fuck you,” I manage, but it’s weak and wobbly. “I can cry if I want to, I don’t need your help.”
He shushes me gently, like I’m talking nonsense. And we lie here on the cold, hard floor while I fall apart, crying as silently as I can in his arms and knowing it’s not silent enough to go unnoticed. But he lets me cry and holds me, keeps me together and warm and safe while I have my moment. And…
And I think…
I needed this.
****************
Young-gi
Tommy hides his face against my chest and cries, clutching me and cussing at me a little, just getting it all out. I don’t care that we’re on the floor, or that Yosef and a security detail are waiting for us in the parking lot. I don’t care about anything right now, except Tommy.
Holding him is like holding flames. I can’t stop wanting him; I love the burn. He consumes himself, eats up all his own oxygen - he couldn’t exist in captivity, in a vacuum. He’s wild and uncontrollable.
I’ll give him fuel, give him structure. I’ll be the wood and the gasoline. I’ll be whatever he wants. I’ll burn for him, so he doesn’t have to keep burning himself.
He shudders and I drag him closer, close enough that he makes an annoyed little sound–that isn’t his safe word–and squirms just to make sure I really want him here, and then finally settles when my grip tightens.
“So what did you think?” he sasses after a few sniffles, his tone sharp and sarcastic, and a little gravelly from how deep he let me fuck his face. “A guy sucking dick isn’t so bad, huh? Just like a girl if you close your eyes.”
“Were my eyes closed, Tommy?” I ask, threatening, the way he likes it.
His hands spasm, clutching me harder. “No.”
“Was it what you wanted, sweet boy?”
“I’m not sweet,” he argues, avoiding the question.
“You did such a good job,” I tell him, feeling indulgent and soft in a way I never do when he’s not around. “Such a pretty mouth.”
He groans. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”
I smirk. That’s hot? No, he is. Those pictures of us at the club were infuriating because how dare anyone try to threaten Tommy, threaten me? But they were also…stimulating. Certainly…eye-opening.
Tommy wants to turn me gay? I think sardonically. I’m not, I don’t like men. I just like Tommy. He’s mine. He’s already got me.
The photo of him in my lap, head thrown back, looking euphoric, while I stared up at him? That’s my new screensaver. Damn, I didn’t know I made expressions like that. He makes me feel things.
I’m a manic over-thinker and that’s always been my best quality in my line of work, so my mind is already spinning with plans. How to keep him, how to claim him, how to make this forever. There is a major problem, however.
Kira’s engagement.
His continued presence was supposed to calm any rumors about her, to quell any scandal, to smooth over any hint of foul play.
But instead, it’s the wall between us. I can’t claim him without throwing Kira into a wolves’ den of vicious gossip, a scandal as bad as, or even worse than, the original scandal of hiring Tommy in the first place.
It’s a whole mess. I’m not used to my plans being blocked, not used to feeling…feeling…Like I’m staring at a map in an unfamiliar language, and I need it to get where I want to go. Like I’m working on a puzzle with missing pieces, and I can’t do anything else until it’s finished.
How can I plan for him?
I didn’t anticipate him. Never in a thousand years would I have dreamt up someone like Tommy.
I won’t hurt Kira. I would never. But I won’t let Tommy go, either. I’m stuck. It’s an unfamiliar predicament.
He sighs when I pet his back, sounding like a kitten. Then, before I can comment on that, his stomach growls.
“You’re still hungry?”
“I didn’t eat much before the whole,” he flaps his hand around, smacking my shoulder, “blackmail thing.”
The reminder of his anxiety almost sours my mood, but it would take a lot more than someone threatening to ruin my entire life to dent my satisfaction right now.
Besides, the threat would need to be actually serious for me to worry about it. The blackmailer has no idea what they’re starting.
“Do you want take-out?”
“Can we just get, like, pizza or something?” He pulls his face out of hiding to wrinkle his nose up at me. The tear tracks on his face are dry now, but so unbearably pretty on him. “Rich people food is getting kind of old. I can’t believe it, but it’s true.”
“Sure,” I rumble. But before he can go anywhere, I lean forward and press my lips to his. “Good boy,” I breathe against him.
He gasps, shivers all over, and tentatively kisses me, shyly, as if he didn’t just have his cock in the back of his throat a few minutes ago.
“Young-gi,” he rasps, and hearing the way his voice is getting hoarse almost makes me hard again.
“Did you like your reward as much as I did?” I ask him between kisses.
“Do you wonder what it would be like,” another kiss, deeper and more possessive, “for me to be the one on my knees for you? I’d do that for you, Tommy.
” I bite his lower lip, then kiss the small hurt away.
“I’ve never done that for a man, but I have this strong feeling that I could make cum so hard that you cry. Would you cry for me, Tommy?”
“Fuck,” he whispers into my kisses. “You’re–I–yeah, probably–”
“Good boy.” I roll over him, then climb to my feet, pulling him with me. He yelps indignantly at the sudden handling, then scowls as he brushes invisible dust off himself.
“Take me to a bed next time,” he complains, pretending to crack his back. But despite his barbed tone and the bratty expression, I read the words for what they are. A request. Permission. A need that he’s expressing to me.
Loud and clear, sweet boy.
“There will be a next time,” I reassure him. “Unless you safe-word, it’s happening. In a bed, if you want. Or wherever. I’m open to options.”
He goes rigid, then melts, then rolls his eyes and storms away so I can’t see his face. “Whatever, loser. Let’s go! I’m fucking hungry.”
His voice breaks when he yells, more evidence that he took my cock deep, and I smirk at the way his shoulders hunch in embarrassment, but he doesn’t look back at me over his shoulder. I follow him out, swiping up the envelope of blackmail photos as I go.
I’m going to have to take care of this. I won’t allow anyone to threaten mine. Brian’s stupid fucking family has no idea what they’ve done. They thought I’d be afraid of my interest in Tommy? Ashamed of him? That I’d want to hide him?
They’re dead fucking wrong.
“Holy shit!” Tommy’s surprised voice echoes from the parking lot and I exit the building to find him staring–comically shocked–at Yosef and the security detail waiting for us. “Were you guys out here this whole time?”
“They’re here to guard me, Tommy.” I put my hand on his lower back and gently guide him into the car. “Where else would they be?”
“But we–and they–and it’s been–ugh! Fucking psycho freak,” he mutters, crossing his arms and scowling out the window while I buckle him in.