“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
He says it until it’s a chant.
Until he’s balls deep in my throat.
“I can’t believe this.”
The bedframe creaks, and my cock leaks as he holds himself there.
Then he pulls out; a slow drag before pushing back in.
This time, each thrust into my mouth is no longer done in disbelief, but anger. He’s going through all the stages of grief, it seems. I can’t wait for acceptance.
I let my tongue slide up and down his length as he tunnels in andout of my throat. It aches, burns, but fuck, I like it. I like discovering little bits about him. He gasps when I find that vein on the underside of his cock and trace it. And he loses control completely when I start to hum. It’s a nineties song, of course, but one that reminds me of him. One that’s sure to drive him crazy.
The groans he emits almost harmonize with the tune surrounding his cock.
Then I feel it. The tremble in his hands, the way he tightens his hold on my hair, the jerk of his hips. A feral moan escapes his lips as his hard length explodes right across my tongue and down my throat. I swallow greedily, not wasting a drop. I drink it down like I’m dehydrated and Ansel is here to sustain me.
He fucks into my mouth sloppily until he’s wrung dry and slumped forward. With a long exhale, he falls down next to me, and I hear him shifting around on the sheets until he’s finally still.
I hold my breath, sitting naked with a wet chin and cum on the edge of my lips.
“That won’t happen again,” he finally says, a little breathless. “But I do feel better. My mind is clear.”
I smack my lips, sinking down slightly, letting my chin hit my chest. I’m turned on, but the taste of him lingering on my tongue is enough to satisfy me. For now, at least.
“Good,” I rasp, my throat sore from the fucking he gave it.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Oh, I love a little pain.”
He murmurs “Of course you do” under his breath and then says, “I’m going to take a nap. If you get up, can you turn off the light in the bathroom?”
I let out a laugh, and a few minutes later, I hear soft snores coming from beside me.
I twist my wrists and manage to get free. Pulling off the blindfold, I see his cheeks are stained the lightest pink. His lower lip is swollen like he’s been biting it. The best part is his smile. Even in sleep, his lips are curved in quiet contentment.
It makes my chest swell. That was me. I did that.
I can’t wait to do it again.
I slip out of bed and use the bathroom before turning the light off. When I make it back, I slide under the covers right next to him. I gather him into my arms, just like how we woke up this morning. He doesn’t protest, but comes willingly. In sleep, his brain forgets that he’s not supposed to want this.
Even if we both know he does.
This time though, I don’t sleep. I’m wide awake. I’m back to pondering why I’m here and why Ansel is involved in this situation. What is making him more and more frustrated every time he looks at his phone?
I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I’m sure of one thing.
I’m going to protect him if anyone comes.
7
CADE
