Then we switch spots as he gets comfortable in bed and I wash up for the night. Crawling into bed, I turn the lights off right away and pull him into my chest. He wraps around me. There’s still the faintest tremor in his hold, as if he’s physically trying to hold himself together.
I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have had to scale that mountain for more than three decades. All alone. Facing his father, his entire family, every day as a child with no one there to support him. No one defending him. No one on his side.
He doesn’t see it, but he’s remarkably strong to have lived for so long under that kind of pressure without buckling. Just because he reached his breaking point now doesn’t mean he’s weak. It means he needs help and can’t deny it anymore.
“Tomorrow I’m going to call Imry,” I murmur. “We’re going to have him work on a restraining order for your parents. I want you to tell Imry that I can speak on your behalf, if that’s something you’re comfortable with.”
“Yes, please,” he whispers.
“I promise, Felton, I will only ever do what’s in your best interest. Even if you want me to make all your decisions, we’re going to talk about some things, so I know how you feel. That way, when I make a decision for you, I know it’ll be what you want and what’s best for you.”
He sighs heavily. “Okay.”
“Is it okay? You can tell me if it’s not.”
The room is dark with the shades pulled and the night deep outside the curtains. Only the light from under the door and the dim nightlight built into the bathroom sink offer any illumination. I can see his eyes and the rough shape of his face when he looks at me.
“Yes,” he says. “Honestly, I don’t care if you bury me alive right now, Ren. I don’t want to do anything when it’s always wrong.”
“It’s not always wrong. It’s never been always wrong.”
I don’t need to see his face to know he doesn’t believe me. His lips land on mine and for several minutes, we kiss. I swear, it feels like he’s handing me his autonomy right now, saying—here, do with me what you want.
What I want is to make him forget about his shithead father. Rolling him over, I kiss him a little harder. Maybe telling him I accept what he’s offering and I’ll do everything I’m able to make sure he’s taken care of. To make him happy.
Already I miss his smile.
“What do you need right now?” I ask against his lips.
One day, I’ll know exactly what he needs without asking. I know I will. Because Felton Badcock is going to be my entire life. I’ll know everything about him—his wants, his dislikes, his fears, his dreams, his needs, his desires. And I’ll make sure that no matter what, he has the world handed to him. He deserves all of it.
But right now, I’m still learning him.
Felton shakes his head, but his hands slide down to my ass. I grin into his mouth. “You’re such an ass man, aren’t you?”
I’m relieved when I feel his smile in return. “Yes,” he admits. “And yours is just so sexy.”
“Is it?”
He nods. “It’s so firm and round.” His hand flexes. “I love to grip it. It fits perfectly in my hands.”
“Are you always a bottom, Fel?” I ask in an echo of a previous conversation.
Felton shrugs. “Most of the time. As it turns out, most men I’ve encountered who claim that they like big dicks have a limit to how big is too big, though they swear that’s not the case.”
“Hmm,” I answer, pressing kisses to his jaw. “Maybe we can work up to switching.”
This time, his smile is wide. “Oh yeah? Think you can do that?”
“Don’t know,” I admit. “But if it’s something you enjoy, I’d be happy to try at least once.”
Felton sighs. “I’m happy as a bottom, you know. I really like dick.”
I chuckle. “I think I knew that.”
“I guess… I’d maybe really like to top sometimes. But not if you don’t like it. It’s not at all enjoyable if you don’t like it. I’m not that kind of guy.”
“Believe it or not, I know that about you.”
