Squeezing his ass, I deep-throated his dick, taking him all the way down.
“Goddamn,” he grunted, tugging so hard on my hair he could pull it from my scalp. “Fuck, Damian. Suck my cock like a good boy.”
I swiped some of the pre-cum from my tip and used it to lubricate my finger. Bastian fell forward when I plunged my finger into his ass and worked the tight channel I’d been begging to fuck for the past two years. He liked it when I did this, even though he denied me sex.
“Holy shit,” he moaned. “Fuck, that feels…”
You can say it, Bash.
He couldn’t even get out the words, nearly breathless, as I pumped my finger into his ass and sucked the cum from his dick.
This all started when we were sixteen, and I was out of my mind with bloodlust. I killed someone for my father and lost control. There was so much blood that it looked like a massacre. I had blood all over my face, skin, and clothes, the floor and walls painted crimson.
I almost hurt Bastian until he took out my dick and made me come. Because of him, I didn’t kill anyone else that night. We went home, got into the shower, and he sucked my dick for the first time.
Then I sucked his.
It was one of the best nights of my life, but probably not his. Because that was the night he started hating himself.
And it was all my fault.
Bastian’s legs shook, and his grunts quickly turned to sexy moans. His warmth spilled into my mouth, and I swallowed his cum, licking my lips to get every drop.
“Jesus,” Bastian hissed, his fingers sliding through his dark caramel hair to push it out of his eyes. “No one sucks my dick like you do.”
I rose from the ground, still hard and needing a release. So I took his hand and wrapped it around my shaft. His hand glided up and down my skin in a rhythmic motion.
“I need to feel your mouth on me, Bash.” I licked his lips so he could taste himself. “Make this go away.”
I always took care of him first. When I did, he didn’t think as much about his hatred for himself and his feelings for me. But he would have to cut out my black heart to make me stop wanting him.
I’d been getting better at knowing my limits over the years. So I could sense when the urges resurfaced, and I usually found Bastian in time.
Bash licked the taste of his cum from his bottom lip. For a split second, our eyes met, and I thought he might kiss me. I tried so many times with him. But he insisted on no kissing or fucking.
Kissing a man would make him gay. But sucking my dick was a gray area for him. Whatever floats his boat. As long as this never ended, I didn’t care. He could label us with whatever he wanted.
Bi.
Gay.
Straight.
Don’t care.
I flattened my tongue against his cheek and licked up to the skin beneath his eye. “I need you.”
The crazier shit I did, the more it lowered his guard. Bastian gave me a hesitant look before getting on his knees and fisting my shaft. I knew how to work him over until I got what I wanted. And he was good at manipulating me, too.
“Suck on your fingers,” I told him.
He did as I requested, staring up at me with those big, gray eyes, and then shoved two wet fingers into my ass. “Is this what you want, you crazy fuck?”
His fingers worked my tight hole, and even though it burned, I didn’t care. It felt so fucking good.
I nodded and slid the tip of my cock across his lips. “I want to paint your tongue with my cum.”
Shaking his head, he sighed. “How did we get here, Damian?”
