“What are you doing?” I manage, confused and trying to think around his fingers that are intentionally not hitting my prostate.
“You’re going to make me come. You want to worship me, no?” I groan—fuck, that’s so hot.
“Yes, yes, I do. What can I do for you?” My voice is strained, and I can’t turn my head far enough to fully see him. I can only make out his face and the arm that’s connected to the hand pumping inside of me.
“Squeeze your thighs together—show me how much of a slut you are for me.” My knees audibly smack together, my thighs tense with how hard they’re clenched. I’m still a bit unsure what he could be—Oh my God.
Aaron shoves his cock in between my thighs, thrusting between them in time with every thrust of his fingers. I’m gasping, trying my best to stay lucid under the feel of his fingers and his cock on my thighs, how it's rubbing on the underside of my own length. Aaron leans over my back just enough to grasp the nape of my neck, and he holds me down with just enough pressure to remind me I can’t move without his permission.
He’s groaning and panting, mumbling my name and twisting his fingers repeatedly. He’s already close—I can feel it in how he’s pulsing, in how he’s crying out for me. Every time he slams his hips forward it shoves his fingers in further, the curl on them intoxicating, like he’s memorized where my prostate is and has decided now is the time to abuse the fuck out of it.
“Baby,” Aaron’s voice is lower than normal, coming out in between groans and pants. “You’re so close to being so fucked. So close to never being allowed to be touched by anyone else ever again.”
“Ahhhhh.” We both moan at the same time.
“If you ever let me fuck you, if you ever put my dick in your ass, I won’t be able to take it. I think I’d kill anyone who touches you.” He might be crying as he talks. Like it hurts him to admitthis, like he’s dying right now. “That’s why—that’s why I won’t fuck you. Butoh God, I want to fuck you. Benjamin, baby, Ireallywant to fuck you.”
One last stroke of his fingers over my prostate, one final drag of his giant cock under mine, and I’m coming again. I don’t moan; I don’t call out to him. I’m sobbing. Drool and tears soak the blankets under me, and I just keep fucking sobbing.
Aaron leans over my back, never stopping, never letting up, and bites the nape of my neck—digging his teeth in like I’ll get away if I’m not fused into him. I shriek—the pain of his teeth settling deep beneath my skin, mixing with the pleasure streaming through my veins and my come shoots out harder.
As he’s licking over the wound, I feel Aaron groan deep in his chest and he shudders. His come shoots out to join mine, mixing together on the front of his comforter. Throughout his orgasm—even as I’ve stopped coming—he never stops thrusting, never stops the thrust or curl of his fingers, and I’m doing everything in my power to not pass out as he finally slows to a stop.
Aaron’s breathing hard, his hands shaking as his fingers pull out of me, earning a loud mewl from my mouth. He sits back and wraps an arm under me and over my chest, locking his hand over my shoulder. I say nothing as he pulls me up, my back flush against his chest. My head dangles, my arms limp at my sides.
“Button?” He asks tentatively.
“Mm.” I answer, so he knows I’m alive at least. I feel him peek around my shoulder, pushing hair off of my face, looking over my expression.
“Blink once if you’re good and just really worn out, blink twice if I should be worried right now.” If I had even an ounce of energy, I’d laugh. I blink one very slow blink. He chuckles.
“Can you at minimum stand?” I nod, sighing as he lays me back down on his bed. I hear the shower start and a few minutes later he picks me up bridal style. I crack my eyes open and peek up at him. Aaron’s staring ahead as he walks, his face drawn in concern, and Ihave a feeling it doesn't have anything to do with my current condition.
He steps into the shower and stands me up. I watch him as he grabs my loofah and pours soap all over it. He runs it over my body slowly, softly, like he’s kissing every inch of me. His eyes meet mine and they look a bit sad as he presses his lips to my forehead. Something in my gut twists.
Aaron washes himself as I lean against the tile wall, mesmerized by the movements, by the flex of his muscles. I reach out, run my fingertips over his skin and he shudders. After we’re both clean he pulls me against his chest, holds me there, kissing my neck and touching any part of me he can reach. His eyes stay closed, stay turned away, and if they do look into mine—if I can catch them—I can see the sorrow and the desire there. He turns the water off.
Then he puts his sweats on me and sits me on his bed so he can towel dry my hair.
“Aaron?” I ask as he’s rubbing the towel over the mess of gold on my head.
“Hm?”
“You’re not… going to make it weird again, are you?” I expect him to laugh, make a bit out of it, or at the very least just sayno. Instead, he pauses. That pause sucks the air right out of my lungs.
“What do you mean?” He eventually questions, continuing with the towel. Slowly, I reach up and pull it away, dropping it into my lap. Aaron avoids my eyes for a moment, before he finally gives in and looks at me.
“Aaron. You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“You’re running from me. From this.” He laughs, strained and awkward, taking a step backward.
“No, I’m not. I’m right here, aren’t I? Don’t be silly.” I observe him. He’s right—he’s still here physically and he’s yet to kick me out. But otherwise, he’s already fled.
“You’re never going to accept this are you? Accept me?” Aaron stares at me, his pleading green eyes full of more pain and fear thanI’ve ever seen him express. He says nothing. This is the very first time I wish I couldn’t read his expression.
There’s a knife in my chest and it’s twisting. No, someone is pulling it out and shoving it back in. Over and over and over. I don’t know what I thought. He’d want to date me? Be friends with benefits? A situationship even? I don’t know. But I can see now that all I—all we will ever be is a temptation that burdens him. Nothing more, nothing less. I feel fucking sick.
