I watch as Pink takes a sip of his tea. He flashes me a weak smile and my heart flips all the way over. His eyes are still red from crying and his face is a little splotchy. He has never looked more beautiful.
I’m darkly pleased that he freaked out when he thought I had left forever. Being needed and wanted has lit up parts of my psyche I never knew existed. I am deeply horrified at myself. It is monstrous of me to feel this way.
Pink is an achingly vulnerable young man. There is nothing pleasing about him needing to latch onto me. It doesn’t make mespecial. It has only happened because I’ve been here. A constant, unchanging presence in his life. One that has not been cruel.
Add in the fundamental facts that I am a mage and he is a vessel, a pairing formed in nature, then it is not at all surprising that his wounded mind has formed an attachment.
The very last thing I should be doing is taking glee from it. I absolutely should do nothing to encourage it. All the reasons to keep Pink at a distance and far away from my real life still stand. Nothing has changed. Except every day it gets harder and harder to do.
My fists clench tightly by my sides, blunt nails digging into my palms, and the slight discomfort gives me some focus. Some clarity on what I need to do.
“I’ll leave you in peace,” I say.
Pink’s eyes widen. “Can…can you stay?”
My heart thumps against my ribs. “Of course,” I say, because there is no other answer. Not if he is still feeling anxious. Not if he still needs me. I can resurrect my good intention to leave, just as soon as Pink is feeling calm.
Pink swallows. I watch his throat bob. He licks his bottom lip. My gaze tracks the path of his tongue.
“Actually,” he says softly. “Would you mind emptying me? I know it is a little early.”
Goddess. The most beautiful man in the world is staring up at me with large brown eyes and asking if I would mind having sex with him.
“Of course,” I say again, because I will never say no to Pink.
He places his tea on the bedside table and scrambles out of bed.
“I’ll prepare,” he says as he darts past me and into his bathroom.
The door shuts. Now I am alone in his bedroom. His private space. His sanctuary. Curiosity wants me to pry. To poke aroundand learn what I can about this man who is so close to stealing my heart.
But I am better than that. Pink deserves his privacy. I can’t help noticing that the room is neat and tidy and that there is an abundance of books. But I’m not going to look any further. Even though he has seen my campervan hundreds of times, and some might say a nosy would only be fair.
However, it doesn’t seem at all the same to me. I love my campervan, but it is my workspace, my office. That I also happen to sleep in. I don’t think of it as private. And even if I did, I wouldn’t mind showing it to Pink. At all.
The bathroom door swings open and Pink steps out. He is wearing a thin, white nightgown. Very similar to a traditional receiving gown. Something he might wear if he truly was my vessel and this was our wedding night.
I can feel my pulse thrumming. Blood is rushing to my cock, but I’m feeling far more than lust. I wish Pink could be mine and the wistful yearning of that hurts. An agony of the soul. An echo of which I can physically feel in my chest.
Pink flashes me another small smile as he makes his way to the bed. He has no idea that I feel every single one of his smiles in my heart. Arrows that bite with what-can-never-be. I’m scarred by them. And still I crave more.
Pink lies on the bed, on his back. Missionary has long become our routine. There are sixty-nine positions good vessels are trained to assume for their husband. I’ll never ask Pink for a single one.
I wonder how many Laurie’s trainer has taken him through.
The dark thought blindsides me and I only just manage to bite back my whimper of dismay. I suck in a shaky breath. Calm. Think calm thoughts.
Laurie has the kindest trainer available. One that is known for using pictures and diagrams and keeping clothes on and not using dildos on his students.
I’ve done the best I can. What really goes on behind closed doors and the sanctity of a training room, no one but the vessel and trainer can ever know. There is nothing to gain by tormenting myself with thoughts of it.
“Monty?” asks Pink with a furrowed brow.
I jump forward as if electrocuted and hastily begin removing my clothes.
“Lost in thought?” Pink smiles fondly.
“Ah yes. A particularly troublesome equation,” I assure him.
