Chapter 9 #2
He pulled me to my feet and removed the towel from around my hips. I was naked while he wore a pair of soft pajama pants and a T-shirt. Barefoot. Even in casual clothes, he looked like a million bucks. And fucking hot.
“Lay down on the bed on your back, arms over your head.”
I loved the way he gave commands, in this gentle but dominating voice.
He was natural at it, comfortable in his position without feeling the need to constantly defend it.
This was what I’d wanted, to turn my brain off, to not have to make a damn decision for myself when I normally lived on a constant edge of survival.
I went right to the bed, settling on my back on top of the soft sheet, and gripping the bars of the headboard. I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of a drawer opening and closing, then the feel of rope being tired around my wrists.
I inhaled and then exhaled, thinking maybe I could melt into this mattress.
At no time in my life did I feel like I could close my eyes and just be.
I slept with one eye open, always on alert, always on guard.
I watched my mouth, so I didn’t say anything wrong, because the demise of me was the demise of my sister.
But here with Con, I could be. Just be.
“Are you hungry?”
I opened my eyes. Con sat on the bed beside me, staring down at me.
“The size of you…,” his eyes scanned my body before returned to my face. “I imagine you’re like a horse, huh? Needing to graze all the time?”
I squinted at him irritably.
His lips twitched, just a little on one side, before a smile split them. The whites of his teeth gleamed, and deep grooves cut into the skin on either side of his mouth. He was pretty all the time but gorgeous when he smiled.
The muscles in my face ached, and it took me a minute to realize that it was because I was smiling too. Con cupped my jaw, his thumb pressing into my cheek. “Dimples,” he murmured, almost to himself.
I wrinkled my nose and stretched my jaw wide. “Guess I’m not used to moving those muscles a lot.”
“The smiling ones?”
“Yeah, those.”
Con’s thumb moved, rubbing my bottom lip. “Me either.”
“Maybe… we could practice on ‘em together.”
He huffed a soft laugh. “Maybe.”
“Con?”
“Yeah?”
“I am hungry.”
A smile again, before he reached over me.
I’d noticed a tray on the table beside the bed but hadn’t paid attention to what was on it.
And it didn’t fucking matter. I’d eat whatever he told me to, whether it was chocolate or broken glass.
I closed my eyes again, knowing he’d have to feed me because I couldn’t use my hands.
Something cold touched my lips, and I opened my mouth. The food rolled onto my tongue.
“Close and chew,” he said.
And I did, happy when the taste of a fresh grape squirted in my mouth. I swallowed it and then opened my eyes, parting my lips for more.
He fed me more grapes, close to a whole bunch, and I swore I’d never had a grape in my life that tasted like that.
Maybe it was because the skin held a salty essence from Con’s fingers, or maybe it was because I breathed in his scent with every inhale.
Either way, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted this to stop, Con feeding me slowly.
And then his lips were on mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth. He’d eaten a couple of grapes himself and so that was what I tasted, grapes and Con, and I thought then if someone made that wine, I’d buy every damn bottle.
He raised his head and ran his hand up my face, into my hair, where he gripped the strands and tugged. “You taste good.”
“So do you.”
He spent the next ten minutes hand feeding me.
I’d never had what Con called hummus, and this was flavorful, spicy.
He said it was chickpeas and roasted red peppers, but this was a weird paste stuff on pita chips.
I didn’t ask questions because it was delicious as hell.
I just opened my mouth and let him feed me.
I’d never thought this would be something that would turn me on, but it did, because every now and then, while I was chewing, Con would let his hands drift down my body.
He’d stroke the ridges in my stomach, or he’d pinch my nipples.
One time he placed a cold grape in his mouth, then lowered his head to suck on my nipple, the hot and cold sensation causing my cock to fill. I looked down. Con was hard too.
He held up my head and let me drink from a bottle of water and then finished off the bottle himself. Before I could think of what was next, he lowered his head and took my cock in his mouth to the root.
I arched off the bed with a cry, and he slammed a palm on my hips, holding me steady.
I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on breathing and not coming as the tip of my shaft touched the back of his throat, and he swallowed around it.
Holy shit, could Con suck a dick. I didn’t realize he had it in him.
So composed, so in control. I should have known though.
Especially when he raised his head with one hand gripped around the base of my shaft tightly, the other playing with my balls. “I’ve been wanting this in my mouth since I first saw you, did you know that?”
I couldn’t speak, so I just shook my head.
He slapped my cock against his tongue before descending again and then hollowed his cheeks as he sucked.
I didn’t know when or how he got lube, but I felt slick fingers at my entrance, and then he didn’t waste time, plunging two fingers past the tight ring of muscle.
I pulled on the ropes binding my arms, feeling the ache in my shoulders from the position, but not giving a fuck because Con was sucking my dick like a pro while fucking me with his fingers, brushing my prostate with every thrust.
“Goddamn,” I moaned. “I’m going to come, Con. I can’t—”
He pulled off immediately, his fingers left my ass, and then he was across the bed, grabbing a condom.
I deep breathed, focused on not coming because that familiar tingle was in my balls, so fucking close.
I looked down at my cock, wet with Con’s spit and waited for him to roll the condom down his cock.
But…he didn’t.
He tore open the package with his teeth and rolled the condom on me.
“Con?”
He didn’t speak, as he reached around his body with his lubed-up fingers.
They’d only been inside of me seconds ago and now they were inside of him.
The muscles in his forearm flexed as he worked to prepare himself.
I wanted to see, I wanted to watch him get ready for me, but I figured beggars couldn’t be choosers.
I was going to fuck Con. Fuck him. And I just hoped I didn’t come the second I was inside of him.
He straddled me, with his back to me, and held my cock up. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but watch as he rose to his knees, positioning my cock at his entrance, then lowered, taking me inside of him.
He was tight, really fucking tight, and incredibly hot. I’d never fucked a man, not ever. Women, a few times, when I was drunk enough to pretend they were someone else. But this was the first time I’d ever been inside of a man.
And God, what a fucking first. Con looked at me over his shoulder, gray eyes blazing. “Make it good for me, Tav.” Then he leaned back, one hand on my stomach, and began to ride me.
I wanted to watch, but I had to close my eyes and get myself under control first. When I felt that I could keep the orgasm at bay, I popped my eyes open to watch as my cock plunged in and out of Con’s ass.
His spine snaked as he rolled his hips, so that he looked almost serpentine.
If he turned around and flicked his tongue, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
Con’s flesh was unmarked and smooth, fucking beautiful, with defined muscles.
There was no mistake he was a man. No mistake that this was who I was fucking.
He didn’t let me forget it either, twisting his neck to eye me over his shoulder, biting down onto his bottom lip in a way that made me think my name was right there, on the tip of his tongue, on the edge of his lips.
“How do I feel, Tav?” he whispered.
I was straining on the ropes, pulling them. I thought the veins in my neck were going to pop out of my skin with the force I was using to hold my orgasm at bay. “You feel like a fucking dream, Con.”
“A fucking dream,” he repeated, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He rocked harder now, his one hand working himself. “Yeah,” he said softly. “This is a fucking dream.”
He began to come then, and I felt his hot cum splash on my legs as a groan ripped from his throat.
His muscles milked my cock as he pulsed around me.
And that’s when I let go, finally, and it felt like all of me, every ounce of blood, cum, plasma along with chunks of flesh were handed over to Con in that moment.
I wasn’t sure what words tumbled from my lips, or what I looked like. All I knew was that when I opened my eyes, Con was removing the condom, throwing it in a waste can beside his bed. Then he was crawling up my body, kissing me, nibbling my lips, sucking on my tongue.
He rested his forehead against mine, brushing his thumbs over my cheekbones, taking care not to touch the bandage. He was breathing as hard as me, his breath gusting over my skin. “Where’d you come from, Tav?” he said, almost to himself. “Where the hell did you come from?”
I looked into his eyes, pupils dilated so there was barely any blue. I was too fucked out to lie, so I just didn’t answer his question. “Why does it matter, when what’s important is I’m here right now?”
He blinked, then pulled back a little, so I could see his lips twitch into a smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”