Twenty-Three
Blake
I got a splinter and he came in like some knight in shining armor to help me get it out.
Is that all it took to get him up here while I was awake again?
Is this how I’ll get him to finish reading to me whenever he decides to stop again.
I almost said yes too quickly when he asked if I liked it better the longer he stayed.
The last thing I want is to be desperate for my captor.
That’s how a reasonable person would think, and I’m trying not to lose that part of myself.
But it might be too late, and I’m not sure I’m still pretending to get by.
He’s washing me now, and I’m trying not to smile at how good it is to have human contact after going a week without it.
His fingers occasionally come in contact with my skin and I need more.
I don’t know what to expect when he asks to try a new way to get me clean, but him dropping to my level to swipe his tongue over the tip of my nipple isn’t it.
I moan, stretching out my back, and don’t move beyond that, happy exactly where I am with his mouth sucking my hard nub between his teeth. His tongue laps over my barbell and around it. I close my eyes and shudder when he moves to the other side, giving it more attention than the first one.
I can push him away at any moment. My ankle is shackled but my wrists aren’t.
I attempt to move my fingers but they feel like they’ve been stapled to the ground.
I rock forward and back when he returns to my first tingling nub and traces the tip with his tongue.
I let out more desperate sounds and he glances between my legs, running a wet wipe over the upside of my cock.
He washes the underside next and my breaths stutter. He cleans my balls and grabs another wipe to wrap it around my base, sliding it up and down. His tongue lolls out and he keeps looking down at my growing erection, and I oink twice, not even sure what the hell I’m saying yes to this time.
Or is this me finally going back to pretending so I can delay admitting to myself the ridiculous truth?
“What is that, piglet?”
His fist squeezes tighter and he pumps me slowly, his palm making slapping sounds against my skin.
“Oink . . . oink,” I say louder between pants, and his eyes grow dark, his tongue poking between his lips.
“Are you saying yes to what I think you’re saying yes to?”
I gesture my head to his mouth and then my eyes point to my cock. “Oink oink.” My tone is desperate. So fucking pathetic.
He’s looking at me like he feels sorry for me, though not in a mocking way. His eyes are shining and he licks his lips and makes sucking noises.
“You want to try my new cleaning method down here too?” He tugs on my length and I swallow down the moan threatening to climb up.
I nod enthusiastically and he lifts the bottom of his mask, grinning from ear to ear.
I didn’t think I’d ever see him looking at me like this ever again.
I was losing hope the more days that passed.
I was losing hope the longer the man who is forcing me to be here against my will didn’t come visit me, even with the risk he could hurt me when he did.
How crazy is that?
What’s worse is I’m embedding the shape of his lips into my mind in case I need to see them again when he’s gone for too long again.
“That’s it. It’s okay to ask for what you want. The worst someone can do is tell you no and you don’t miss out on your chance of that possible yes. Don’t forget you can say no too.”
No is nowhere in my vocabulary right now and I don’t know why.
This man is awful. I have a chance to send him away and have him leave me alone, but what am I doing instead?
Begging him to use his mouth to get my cock clean.
Heat spreads in my groin and threatens to explode inside me when his tongue traces over the seam of my piss hole.
I buck my hips as he takes me all the way into his mouth, bobbing his head on the way down.
His nose presses into my pubes, and when he inhales deeply, I almost fucking lose it.
This is wrong. What he’s doing. What I’m feeling.
Fucking all of it. Oh, but nobody tells you that wrongness can keep loneliness away.
They don’t tell you how alive and special it can make you feel, and they sure as fuck don’t tell you it has the ability to take you straight to heaven.
That’s what his mouth is right now. Fucking heaven. He’s both destroying me and saving me with it.
He lightly suctions his mouth, his tongue swirling around me as his moan vibrates against my skin. My body zings and tiny tingles glide up my back as I struggle to remember how to breathe.
If my father and Hayden could see me now, they’d be mortified.
I’d be called embarrassing and all the shame in their eyes would point at me.
But he’s somehow smiling at me with his eyes, the wet sounds he’s making causing me to float off the ground.
Everything I’ve ever wanted and asked for has been wrong to the wrong people.
Maybe that means this is actually the opposite of that.
I come so hard I temporarily black out, and he swallows down my release, licking up any drops he might have missed.
The coldness of the wipe he’s enveloping around my cock intensifies my orgasmic high and when I start to sway, he cradles me in his arms, setting me on his lap as he kisses the side of my head.
“Want me to read to you some more?”
I don’t say anything, I just rub my head against his chest, and he clears his throat before saying, “Or do you want me to stay as we are until you fall asleep instead?”
I nod, breathing him in like he did me, and his scent is so familiar. I try to place it but my head is too foggy, so I nod again instead, closing my eyes as he strokes my hair. He didn’t finish washing me, but maybe that means he has a reason to return tomorrow.
No, this isn’t wrong. It’s right. So twisted but so damn right, and the tenderness he gives me feels exactly like what was missing with Logan. So much, I tell myself he doesn’t matter anymore, and as I’m starting to believe he doesn’t, I inhale the man who’s holding me again and my heart stops.
No. It’s not. I’ve been here before already.
He has the wrong color eyes, and based on what he’s told me, he doesn’t match up with anything else.
Unless he’s lying. He rubs my back and makes a soft shushing sound without using the voice changer.
It’s not Logan. He’s studying to be a cop and is the kind of guy with the right head on his shoulders.
He’d never risk throwing that away on me after I’ve already wasted so much of his time, but to test the waters, I ask, “Can I touch you? Please let me touch you.”