One thrust was all it took for his dick to thicken on my tongue. The word eighteen dying on his lips as the first drop of cum hit the back of my throat. I swallowed down everything he gave me humming as his sweet taste burst across my taste buds.
“Daddy, stop, please.” I released his dick, holding it still with my hand and I licked him clean. Elliot whimpered. “St-stop, too sensitive.”
I pushed up to my knees and took him in. He looked like he was flying somewhere among the stars. I sealed my lips to allow him to taste himself. He moaned against my lips, his tongue eager inside my mouth.
But he pulled back a frown marring his flushed face. He chewed on his lips while he watched me watch him.
“What's wrong? Was it too much for you?” He chuckled and shook his head. Relief surged through me.
“You haven’t come yet?”
“Don’t worry about me,” I said softly. “This was all about you.”
“But I want you to come,” he demanded. My mouth opened and closed. “On me. Here.” He pointed to his chest. “Now.”
My hands were already moving. Flicking my belt open, dragging my zipper down as quickly as it would go. “Demanding. Aren’t you, baby boy.”
Elliot smirked, eyes twinkling. His hand wrapped around mine, urging me to work myself over harder, tighter, faster. His thumb swiped over the head and when he brought it to his lips and sucked the bead of precum off it I was done.
My orgasm exploded from the base of my spine sending waves of blinding white pleasure through me as I quickly adjusted myself so I was straddling his middle. Thick white cum lashed against his chest painting him with my release. Marking him as mine in almost every way.
I’d never felt so complete. So untethered, but so grounded at the same time. It was like we were two pieces of the same puzzle.
“Thank you, Daddy.” Elliot pushed up on his elbows and kissed me before dropping back to the bed boneless.
His finger swirled through my cum on his chest. He alternated between sucking his fingers clean and smearing it into his skin.
“Sweetheart—” Before I could continue my phone rang. The sound cut through our bubble like a blade. My blood turned to ice. I knew that ring tone. “I—I’m sorry I need to take this. It's work.” The lie tasted like rust.
I saw it hit him before he turned away from me. The way his eyes filled too fast, the way his mouth tried to stay neutral and failed. Tears slid silently into his hair and onto his pillow.
Something in my chest splintered. I didn’t let myself stop. Didn’t let myself hesitate. Didn’t let myself feel.
Just bolted off the bed, grabbed my henley from the floor and yanked it over my head, my hands clumsy and shaking as I pulled my jeans up my legs. My heart was already pounding like I’d done something wrong before I’d even left the room.
By the time I reached the top of the stairs, I heard him. A sound pulled from somewhere deep and wounded—a broken, breathless cry that didn’t have words and didn’t try to. The kind of sound people make when something vital has been taken from them and they don’t know how to name it yet.
My chest seized so hard I had to stop walking. My heart turned to dust in my chest. For a second I thought I might turn around. But I didn’t go back. That’s the part that will haunt me. That I didn’t go back. That I ran like a coward.
I grabbed the phone off the kitchen counter with a hand that didn’t feel attached to my body and kept moving until I was outside. “Thomas,” I said hoarsely. “I—I need to talk to you.”
There was a pause on the other end. Thomas let out a deep suffering sigh. “Anthony? What’s wrong?”
I stared at the trees like they could hide me from all my mistakes. “I think…” My throat closed. I swallowed and forced it open. “I think I’m in love with him.”
Silence greeted me as I waited with baited breath for his response.
“No.”
“No?”
“No,” Thomas said, firmer now. “You’re not. And even if you think you are… You need to get the hell out of there before you ruin him.”
The word hit me square in the ribs. Ruin. “I didn’t—I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said automatically.
“That’s not what this is about,” he snapped. “This is about you losing perspective. He’s fragile, Anthony. He’s grieving. He’s attached. You’re the only solid thing in his world right now.”
I pressed my fingers into my eyes. “I know.”
