“How do you cope with it?”
“I am confined to this castle, with a pathetic excuse of a man, and….” His words trail off. “Being amongst people is like drowning in a sea of screams without being permitted to take a single breath. I not only hear the fear and disgust I instil in everyone, I feel it more intensely than my own.” The popping of the fire underlines each word.
“But not with me?”
“No. From you…there is only silence,” he confesses.
“Is that why you hate me?” I ask.
He laughs at this, a response that confuses me more than anything that happened today.
“What’s so funny?”
“I do not hate you, Astaire,” he says gently. The way he says my name makes my stomach lurch.
“Why do you yell at me like that? Throw things at me?” I ask, remembering yesterday night.
“Perhaps I am a blot upon this earth, from which all men flee, and whom all men disown.” He sighs.
I can’t believe this guy. I’m trying to get answers, and here he is being cryptically poetic. When I roll my eyes at Abas, he drags a hand over his face.
“It is….” He struggles for a moment.“…not easily explained,” he says earnestly this time.
With his foot, Abas drags a small stool closer, placing his long legs languidly on top of it. He shakes out the fur and throws it over his now extended legs. A piece of it lands on my arm. I stare at the animal hairs glittering in the firelight.
“Is it because I’m broken, then?” I say.
“Why would I think that?”
“Because there’s something wrong with me,” I explain.
“And you do not believe there is anything wrong with me, then?” he asks.
“There’s nothing even remotely normal about you,” I reply.
“You are truly something else, Astaire.” The way he says this makes me shiver.
“Wait, does that mean you knew when I was there?”
“I cannot ascertain your precise meaning, but the answer will most likely be yes,” he says, painting the word into the air.
“Behind the door, when I was…” I stop myself, feeling strangely awkward.
“Yes, I knew.” He finally looks at me, one corner of his mouth lifted in half a smirk.
“Did you do it on purpose?”
“Nothing escapes you, does it?,” he says softly, slowly leaning toward me.
I watch Abas intently, looking at the smooth waves of his hair, the wild look in his eyes, the taunting lines around his lips. His hand lifts slowly, like he’s approaching a wild animal. I close my eyes when he makes contact with my skin. His chilledfinger brushes across my jaw, and my heart stops for an instant before resuming its work just a touch quicker than before. My cap falls from my head, and my hair tumbles onto my shoulders, still damp from the bath. Abas glides his fingers over my scalp, twirling them around loose strands. I open my eyes again and see him staring at me in wonder. Eyes a deep black. Wide open. Hungry.
Abas moves off the couch too quickly for my eyes to follow, then pulls me down to the rug in front of the fireplace. I gasp at the feeling of being moved so swiftly. He kisses my jaw, then my throat, opening my robe to lavish my chest as well. He lingers on my nipples, giving them little nips, before lowering himself further. I wrap my legs around him and squeeze as hard as I can.
“I want to taste you,” he moans as he reaches for my cock.
It already feels impossibly hard, but Abas’ sudden touch makes it jerk like a heliotropic flower. He grips it with his hand, licking the shaft from the bottom to the tip. A gasp escapes me, and I have to try not to come right then and there. Slowly, he slides his tongue around my head before taking all of me in his mouth.
I hiss and whimper as he sucks my cock. The pressure of his fingers and the movements of his lips are too perfectly timed for me to last for long. He really must be some kind of psychic because this isn’t natural. It feels too good, too much. I try to hold on, but there’s a rushing wave threatening to drown me, and I open my arms to welcome it. Drowning feels like the only possibility now. When I come in Abas’ mouth, I hear him moan around my cock.
