32. Santiago #2
Placing a hand on each of my knees, he forced my legs open. “Yes.” He kneeled between my thighs. “I am.”
My throat turned to dust, and I gulped.
“Put this on,” he ordered, tossing a condom at me.
“You’re kidding, right?” I stared at the rubber. “It’s just a blowjob.”
“Your cock won’t touch my lips unless it’s covered up,” he said, eyes not meeting mine.
What a fucking weirdo. But at the end of the day, it was his choice, and I had to respect it.
“Fine.”
Grabbing the condom, I ripped open the packet before I took out my cock. I was still hard, if you’d believe it, and I quickly rubbered up.
“Happy?” I grunted when he ignored me and instead looked at my dick.
Only he didn’t seem eager. Instead, he just stared at it, no desire on his face whatsoever.
In fact, not a single emotion showed behind those hollowed eyes of his.
With complete silence surrounding us, I held still, my dick hanging out, when he finally placed his hand on my inner thigh and leaned forward.
And while he didn’t say a word, his eyes said it all—he didn’t want to do it.
And when the muscle in his jaw twitched, like he was forced to take a bite out of something that repulsed him, I knew I couldn’t do it.
No matter how badly I wanted to fuck him, I refused to do it against his will.
“On second thought, I’m really hungry.”
His eyes immediately snapped to mine, his brows pulled in confusion.
I then noticed the faint sweat coating his forehead.
“W-what?”
“I didn’t eat after the fight, and I’m fucking starving.” I rolled off the condom and tucked my cock back. “Ain’t no way I can focus on sex with my stomach rumbling.”
He parted his lips to say something before closing them again and averting his stare to the floor. This was the first time I’d seen him at a loss for words.
“Suit yourself,” he said in a weak voice as he got up.
He then tightened the belt of his robe, and while it was no more than a simple move, I somehow felt fixated on it, more likely, on how desperate he seemed to cover himself.
My chest tightened, and I was struck by the sudden urge to hold him.
But knowing it would probably cost me a finger or two, I said, “Wanna eat out?”
His lips twisted. “Why the hell would I want to dine with you?”
I rose from the bed and stretched my arms. “You’d rather suck my cock?”
His grimace immediately vanished.
“What would you like to eat?”
ARIYAN
Watching this buffoon consuming his third burger might have made my skin crawl, but it was much better than having my mouth full of his cock.
With his lips and fingers smeared with sauce and grease, it was hard to keep my composure, yet I did.
Sitting across from him in this low-tier restaurant, with my arms crossed and my mouth set in a hard line, I watched him munch on his food as if he’d been starving for weeks.
Not stopping to breathe between bites, he reached forward and grabbed some fries before shoving them into his mouth and gnawing on them like a beast.
Clearly, the guy has no manners.
“Sure you don’t want some?” he asked, bits of chewed food flying from his mouth and landing on the table between us.
Repulsive.
“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” I hissed while using a napkin to clean the mess he’d spat out.
“Come on, you should try some fries,” he said in between chewing. “They’re really good.”
My mouth twisted at the sight. “I’ll pass.”
“You really don’t eat much, huh?” He took another bite. “No wonder you’re so thin.”
“I beg your pardon?”
With one hand still holding his burger that was the size of my head, he pointed at me. “I’m saying you need to bulk up.”
“I’m the perfect body weight for my height and age, thank you very much.”
“All I’m saying is one burger won’t kill you.” He winked, and I resisted the urge to stab him with my knife.
“Again, swallow before you speak.”
“That’s what she said.”
How childish.
Chuckling at his own joke, the idiot went back to his food, and as he did, I stole another glance at him.
His handsome face wasn’t too damaged in the fight, but he still got some bruises, including the one I’d given him yesterday.
Those stitches under his brow were a real shame, and I was sure tomorrow he’d have a black eye.
It would be a problem if he showed up at the hotel with such a face, but I could always apply some makeup to his bruises before his shift started.
Hold on a second—did I just think he was handsome?
I tensed at the thought before shrugging it off.
Denying he was good-looking would be a waste of breath, as he clearly was a catch, as some would say.
Tall, fit, with unique-colored eyes and a good smile—when it came to looks, Mr. Rivas sure had it all.
What a shame he was just another horndog.
But then again, if that were the case, why did he choose a meal over me?
Placing my elbow on the table, I leaned forward, knuckles resting against my jaw as I examined him.
Since we’d met, all this moron had wanted was to fuck me.
It worked well for my plans, as I used his basic urges to my benefit.
That was, until he came up with this bizarre agreement.
At first, sleeping with him in exchange for a win sounded simple enough.
For starters, I knew it would motivate him even further than his already primal instinct to devour.
Moreover, paying him through sex would save me money, meaning I’d reach my goal much faster.
In fact, as unappealing as the idea of having him fuck me was, I believed I had the upper hand until I found myself in bed with him on top, and I just…
froze. My mind was set on doing whatever needed to be done to pay my debt, but when it came down to it, my body didn’t align with it.
I’d probably slept with dozens, if not hundreds, of people against my will, so what happened tonight?
I was sure it would be as quick and unpleasant as ripping off a bandage, but as I got on my knees in front of him and remembered the pain of having a cock forcefully shoved down my throat, I flinched.
I thought it was too subtle to notice, but— I narrowed my eyes at him just as he sipped from his Coke, utterly oblivious to what was going on around him.
He noticed it.
This clueless idiot, who missed just about everything, not only noticed this slight reaction, but he stopped me immediately after.
Yes, I might have fucked hundreds of men in my life, but never before had one of them stopped on my behalf. I’d bled, puked, urinated on myself, cried, and passed out more times than I could count, but none of it ever stopped a man from taking what he wanted, until him.
It made no sense.
He was the same as the rest of them. A repulsive pig who just wanted to get his dick wet, no matter the consequences.
“Can I ask you something?”