“Shut up,” Aiden said, spreading him open and burying his face in the heart of him, his tongue spearing against his hole in a way that had Thomas’s muscles contracting and his hands grabbing for Aiden’s hair just for something to hold onto.
Fuck. Was this really happening? It felt like some kind of fever dream. But if it was, he didn’t want to wake up because Aiden’s talented tongue had him hard and leaking and he was afraid he might come just from that.
“Fuck. Aiden.”
Aiden only deepened his efforts, licking and sucking at him until Thomas couldn’t stop the moans falling from his lips. This hadn’t been his intention. Or maybe it had. Fuck. He’d always been so selfish when it came to Aiden. Never letting him go but never letting him stay.
Thomas cried out as Aiden’s mouth closed over his cock, sucking him from root to tip. His hips rolled upward against his will, forcing himself deeper. He groaned when Aiden gagged, but he recovered quickly, so quickly Thomas had to fight the sudden jealousy bubbling within him. How many others had sampled Aiden’s mouth? His body?
He had no right to be jealous. To be irrationally angry. It was nobody’s fault but Thomas’s. It was always his fault. But that didn’t stop the irrational surge of possessiveness. Of ownership.
Aiden was his. He belonged to him, whether it was right or wrong. He locked his hands in his hair, holding him in place as he worked himself in and out of the wet heat and suction of Aiden’s mouth, some part of him wanting to punish him. “Fuck. Fuck.”
Aiden let him, groaning around him. His fingers dug into Thomas’s hip bones as tears streamed down his face as he used him. God, how could he have refused him all these years? Even as the thought entered his head, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he did.
He shook the thought away, focusing on the heat building at the base of his spine and the toe curling pleasure Aiden’s mouth was giving him. “I’m gonna come.”
He didn’t tell him so he could pull off, he just wanted him to know it was happening. He wanted to flood his mouth, wanted to watch him swallow it all, needed it, really—needed it to chase away all the thoughts of other men Thomas had no right to hate but did anyway.
He shouted as his orgasm hit, his body curling as Aiden kept sucking, kept swallowing around him until it felt like a punishment.
When he could think again, he released Aiden, who stood like he might be the one to run this time. Thomas grabbed him by the waistband, hauling him back and yanking his pants open, pushing them and his underwear out of the way until his cock sprang free.
Thomas refused to look up. He didn’t want to know what Aiden was thinking. He just wanted to taste him. To give him some of the same pleasure he’d just received. He ran his tongue along the underside of his cock before sucking on the head, precum sharp on his tongue. Thomas had never known anything could feel so wrong and so right at the same fucking time, but it did.Thisdid.
“Tommy…”
If Thomas could have gotten hard again, just the way Aiden said his name would have done it. Not a curse this time but a fucking prayer. He closed his mouth around him, relishing the heavy weight of him on his tongue, the way his hands flexed on his shoulders, the sound of every sharp exhalation as he sucked him.
Thomas gripped his ass, taking him deeper, swallowing around him, hoping it bruised, hoping it left behind some tangible evidence that this happened, that for just a brief fucking moment, Thomas had let him have something he truly wanted before everything was ripped away from him forever.
But it was over too quickly, Aiden’s blunt nails digging into his skin as he came, the bitter taste of him there and gone as he drank him down. When Aiden pulled free, Thomas wrapped his arms around his hips, resting his cheek on his hip, desperately trying to remember everything about that moment.
But all too soon, Aiden was stepping back and righting his clothes. Then he turned and walked out of the room. He didn’t look back. Just left Thomas sitting there in his bed. Just like Thomas had done that night in the library. He’d just left Aiden there. What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d wasted his whole life denying the one person who wanted him, flaws and all.
Because he didn’t deserve him. Aiden deserved better. But Thomas had never let him go and find better. He’d just trapped him there in his misery. Because misery loved company and Aiden was just damaged enough, just needy enough to take Thomas’s scraps.
Whatever this fucking blackmailer wanted, Thomas would give it to him. Then he’d let his family put him out of his misery once and for all. Maybe then Aiden could finally be free of Thomas’s narcissism, this fucked-up version of love or penance or whatever it was Thomas had spent the last twenty years doing to both of them.
Death was more grace than Thomas deserved, but it would be best for all of them. Excise the cancer he was on the family and let them all be whoever they wanted to be. Give them the choice he’d never offered.
He fell back on the bed, letting his eyes close. He just needed to sleep. It didn’t matter that it was barely noon. It didn’t matter that the sun was blazing through the window or that he’d only been awake a few hours. He would sleep. And when he woke, he’d tell Aiden the next part of his story and let the chips fall where they may. There was nothing else he could do. Not anymore.
Aiden left Thomas before he’d even fixed his towel back into place, escaping to his own room and dropping down onto the bed. He covered his eyes with his pillow, almost instantly assaulted with flashes of what had just happened between them. Just those brief glimpses had his skin burning.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Every time. Every fucking time Thomas so much as crooked his finger in Aiden’s direction, he folded like a cheap lawn chair.
Every. Time.
But how could he not? It was in his nature to crave instant gratification. He had zero impulse control on his best day and when something he wanted, craved, feened over, was right there, willing…begging even, he lacked the ability to say no.
Even when he knew it was going to hurt like this as soon as it was over. But he couldn’t even muster up the energy to be mad about it. Talking about his family had mentally broken Thomas. It was written all over his face. The story Aiden dragged out of him—whatever it was—had its claws in him all the way out. His suffering quelled Aiden’s fury, leaving a deep ache that was a hundred times harder to ignore.
His phone began to vibrate along the side table, snagging his attention. He frowned at it for a moment, then answered it without looking, expecting Lola’s sarcasm-laced voice.
“Hello,” he grunted.
“What the fuck, Aiden? Have you lost your fucking mind?”
