So far everything has been perfect…on the outside.
Every day, we’ve posted new pictures of us together, doing verycoupleythings. Holding hands, lounging on a couch together, even a picture of him with his head resting on my shoulder that we asked Weston to take.
But he’s been avoiding me.
And he won’t admit it.
After telling me he’s “busy” again, I head upstairs to my room alone and get lost in the book I have to read for my English Lit class. Hours pass and I drift to sleep on my bed with the book falling against my chest.
That’s when the bad dream starts.
This time we’re already fucking.
Our bodies are hot.
Instead of being on all fours, he’s on his back, facing up toward me so I can see his eyes.
My cock is deep inside him, all the way to the hilt. He’s taking me like he’s made for it, begging for it like the time before, and this time I’m giving in.
I fuck him so hard that tears break off from the corners of his eyes but he still asks me to go harder, to make it hurt even more.
“Not fragile,” he utters. “I can take it.”
“You don’t know how much you can take,” I tell him.
He moans for me.
“And you don’t know how to admit how much you want me. How much youlikeme. Do you want me for real, Niko? Could you ever actually care about me?”
I hate it.
I hate that he says it, and I hate that it gets a reaction out of me.
I shove my cock in harder, holding back nothing now, knowing it has to hurt. But all Oliver does is moan deeper, enjoying anything I give him.
“You’re letting me hurt you,” I protest, even as I take what I want.
His voice is a low growl. “Hurt me more.”
“You can’t want that. Can’t wantme.”
“Have you ever been in love, Niko?”
I feel like something’s splitting open inside me.
“Don’t ask me that.”
“I’ve never felt it. I want toknow. What does it feel like to be in love?”
I clasp a hand over his mouth but all he does is shove it away.
Stop fucking saying that word.
I bend over and claim his mouth in a kiss instead to make him shut up. It’s not real. Any of this. As I fuck him I dimly register that this must be a dream. I’ve had lucid dreams before, where I take control, let myself fly, let myself jump from skyscrapers.
And there’s something sick about this one.
I don’t want to stop fucking him. I want his body like it’s a toxicneed, want to take his goddamn soul like it’s my possession to keep.
