Johnston.
Once again, I examine the area off the bed as I situate him with a pillow. Nothing. Frustratingly, I see not a damn thing.
I turn my attention to focus on Malin once more and begin again with his hands, retracing the path I took before until he’s completely at ease once more. This time, when I trail my hand down his neck, I continue along his sternum until I reach the end. My fingers follow the line of his rib cage until I reach his side. I step my fingers to his next rib and follow it back up to his sternum. This is the path I take until I’ve traced all his ribs on both sides.
His clavicles are next. Then his nipples and down to his navel. Once again, he’s entirely relaxed. His eyes are closed.
He doesn’t move for a very long time as I continue to explore his torso. Feeling every single inch. Resting my hand over his heart to feel how steady and calm it is.
For a moment, I marvel at it. He’s comfortable with me touching him. A man who spent his first fourteen years stuck in an abusive situation where he was forced to endure touch that he didn’t like, is entirely relaxed with my hand on his skin. The realization of how monumental this is for him and that I’m a part of it makes me hold my breath for just a minute.
I’m pulled from the moment when he adjusts. His hands move over his stomach and then to the elastic in his bed pants. I’m absolutely transfixed as he shimmies his pants down and kicks them off.
My eyes scan his legs, his cock, his hips until I see him wince. I look up at his face again, and his face is scrunched before it disappears into the pillow for a minute.
Frowning, I look into the empty space beyond the bed.You will never touch him again,I tell nothing.I will never allow you to hurt him. He’s not yours. He never was.
There’s still no movement. No shifting shadows. No mist or blur or lights.
I turn my attention back to Malin, whose face is still slightly hidden within the pillow. I keep my touch light as I move it along his hips, his thighs. I pull his leg closest to me up, bending at the knee and leaning it against me so I can touch his calf and knee.
It takes a lot of effort not to watch his cock as it stiffens. Grows thicker. Glistens with precum. I’m so focused on it that I don’t realize Malin’s moving his hand until it wraps around my wrist. I freeze.
He doesn’t take my touch away, though. He very deliberately places it on his dick and then lets me go. For a split second as I catch my breath, I stare at where my hand rests on his length. Regaining my composure, I wrap my hand around his cock and very slowly stroke his length.
As much as I’d like to watch me touch him, I turn my attention to his face so I can read his expression. His eyes are hooded, his lips parted. I continue to caress his length for a few more strokes before I explore it as I have the rest of his body.
I recall the way he first touched me and do exactly that, first paying attention to his crown and slit. Then along the length, along his veins. Down to his balls.
His breath catches, eyes flutter. A quiet moan escapes his throat, body wiggling a little.
“Okay?” I ask.
Malin nods.
“If you want me to stop?—”
“No,” he says quickly. “Please don’t.”
I kiss the side of his head and continue to watch him as I fondle his balls, rub his dick, and outright toy with him until his entire body feels like it’s writhing. Then I jerk him for real. I alternate between watching his expression for signs of distress and watching his cock leak for me. I don’t want to miss the moment he comes.
His gasp fills the room seconds before his cock erupts. Because I’m looking dead on at his slit, it’s as if I’m looking down the barrel of a water pistol. It comes at me, making me jerk slightly in surprise. His stream reaches his chin and covers the length of his torso.
My hand doesn’t stop moving over him until he’s empty, slowing at the end.
I’m not sure what I expect after. Part of me anticipates a freak-out. The last time someone touched him was when he was fourteen. Without his consent. Not giving him a choice.
Malin hums quietly. Yawns. He turns his body slightly, so he’s tucked against mine and falls asleep. I grin as I stare at him sleeping soundly. I need to clean him up at the very least, but for this second, I’m going to let him sleep.
My beautiful Malin.
17
MALIN
Ryan hasn’t stopped yellingat me since Gracen touched my dick four nights ago. Unlike when he yelled at people for long periods of time in life, his voice remains steady. Loud. Incessant.
I’m so damn tired of hearing it. I’m tired of listening to him tell me how gross I am. How dirty. How I bathed in sin.
