It doesn’t matter that my head is dizzy and bleeding, nor that we both need countless stitches.
The second I reach down and touch Soren’s semi-hard dick, he whimpers and rocks his hips into me.
It’s all a frenzy from this moment onward. I stroke his hardening length as he pants and moans against my neck. His mouth licks and nips at my skin, and I groan in response.
Everything grows spotty in my vision.
I know that there isn’t much time, but maybe that’s why I keep doing it.
If this is going to be the last moment, I want to at least make Soren feel good. Wanted. Needed. Loved.
I love him.
Fuck, I love him so much.
I don’t know how it happened, but it has.
Soren’s cock pulses in my hand and he comes quickly over his own stomach and the floor. Cum and blood mix together in perfect harmony, and I kiss down the side of his jawline heatedly.
“Good boy…such a good boy,” he mumbles. He’s fading.
I’m fading.
One of us has to stay awake.
It’s going to have to be me.
“You saved me,” Soren says. “…saved me…” His eyelids flutter. His body is still twitching with orgasm, but I can tell he’s not much longer for consciousness.
“I did,” I whisper against his ear. “I always will.”
My erection is painful in my jeans, but I do nothing about it. It may as well be a third leg for all I care. Soren’s pleasure brings me a joy that I can’t begin to describe.
Renewed with energy, I pick him up from the floor halfway. Just enough to partially drag him. I need to get him out of here.
I don’t know how.
But I know one thing.
I won’t let anyone touch him ever again.
18
Soren
The last thing I remember is orgasming with my face pressed against Carmine’s neck. Compared to the pain of each and every cut in my fucking face and body, the pleasure that wracked through me had felt like utter heaven. I’d needed his touch more than ever before, and for the first time, I was the truly vulnerable one.
It was easy to focus on the memory of kissing Carmine instead of the memory of Big Jacque digging into my flesh one searing cut at a time. All I really want as I start to fade back into the world is to feel Carmine nearby. I need to know he’s close.
I need to know that I didn’t just fucking dream it all.
“Carm.” My voice is quiet and rough. I blink lazily and groan at the ache in my body.
I’m lying down, that much I know.
My captor wouldn’t have let me lay down.
Not on the soft cushion I’m currently lying down on. I don’t feel so sticky and close to death anymore. The cuts don’t ache quite as badly. My face doesn’t feel like it’s on fire.
