Page 34 of If Cain Were Able

My body opens easily for him. Every muscle should be tense with anxiety and disappointment over finding myself here with him, but the opposite is true. For all his faults, Cain knows exactly how to touch me, and although he’s a rough and demanding lover, he’s never belittled me, embarrassed me, or made the things we do feel shameful.

He pinches my nipple between his thumb and forefinger until just the right amount of pain flies through me. Then his teeth are digging into my flesh where my neck meets my shoulder, and my body begs him for more.

There’s a large insert in the wall of the shower with multiple bottles held in place by an aluminum railing. Cain pumps a clear gel into his hand.

“Awfully big bottle of lube for never fucking anyone in this shower,” I muse.

“I misspoke earlier,” he growls against my ear as his fingers dive between my cheeks. “One. I fuck one person in this shower on a regular basis: myself. And thanks to your reentry into my life almost ten months ago, it happens quite frequently, Patrick. Is that what you want to hear? Huh? How much I touch my cock while thinking about you? How much cum hits the floor of this shower with your name on it?” He’s leaning around me now so he can drive a finger inside me. “How much I fucking need you to need me because no one else does it right? No one else looks at me the way you do, whimpers like you do, fucking begs for me the way your body does.”

As if to prove his point, my back arches on its own, and my ass drives backward trying to impale itself on his fingers.

“More,” I hear myself plead. If I thought he’d draw this out, I’d be mistaken. He bypasses two and goes straight to stuffing me with three fingers…but it’s still not enough.

I try turning around in the shower to place my ass against his swollen erection, but he doesn’t let me.

“I want to fuck you in my bed, not in the shower. I want your body to overtake all my senses. I want to get lost in your ass like we’re twenty again,” Cain says, as he withdraws his fingers, leaving me feeling needy, empty, and ravenous for his cock.

“Yes,” I breathe. “Please.”

“Then let’s finish up in here,” he commands, soaping up his hands before lathering his body.

I finish bathing in record time, push the glass door open, and barely towel off before I’m climbing onto his bed, my cock and balls heavy with need and anticipation.

Aware of my desperation, Cain decides to take his sweet time.

Fucker.

“I’ll get myself off if you don’t hurry the fuck up,” I yell from the bed just as he gets out of the shower.

“Touch your dick, and I won’t let you come for an hour,” he threatens.

Precum pours from me because I know he means it, and I’m in the mood to hurt.

Reaching down, I hold his gaze as I stroke myself from root to tip.

“Fuuuuck,” I groan, squeezing hard at the base. “I’m so fucking close already,” I admit.

“Then get your goddamn hand off your cock,” Cain says, dropping his towel and storming into the bedroom. He bats my hand away and wraps a hand around my throat. “I thought I told you not to touch yourself.”

“No. You said if I did, you wouldn’t let me come for an hour,” I correct.

“Now you’ve made it two for being a smartass.” I lean in to kiss him, but he pulls back just out of my reach. “Have you forgotten? You don’t call the shots here.” With that, he shoves me onto my back and climbs off the bed, disappearing into his closet. When he returns, he’s holding…

“Are those the same straps from college?” I ask, surprised that I can find my voice after seeing the crimson velvet straps.

“Yes,” Cain answers simply.

“You still have them?” I ask, totally bewildered.

“Obviously,” he deadpans.

I sit up, moving out of his reach.

“I don’t want them. I don’t want to be restrained by ties that have held God knows how many other men down over the last twenty-five years,” I pout.

It’s stupid, really. Cain was never mine in any way that mattered. He’s never going to be mine in that way, either. But we bought those straps together at a sex store an hour away from campus. If they’ve touched someone else’s skin, I’m not interested.

“Jealous?” Cain asks with a smirk.