Page 40 of Touch In Excess

Skye’s entire body erupted into white-hot flames. Fuck. Fuck. The donations climbed higher. Four figures now. He had money. He had so much fucking money it was absurd. He could do this—except…was he allowed?

His gaze became transfixed on Rami, who poured lube into the sleeve, then fit it over his smaller cock. He began to fuck his hips into it, taking the other in his free hand. The rhythm was off-balance, the left taking it faster than the right.

Rami didn’t say a word, but Skye could imagine his breath, his tiny grunts, his stuttered moans he was trying to hold back. Skye knew what he sounded like when he was holding on and when he let go. When he was uninhibited, unencumbered by the weight of strangers watching him.

He moved to the donation box, and he typed in more money than he knew Rami would be happy with, but he had to do this. He had to stake his claim. He was playing by the rules, after all. And he wouldn’t fight if Rami changed them after this, but he wanted to be part of it this time.

He couldn’t help it.

The bidding ground to a halt. Rami’s hands slowed, then stopped. Skye could see the line of tension in him. He’d seen. Heknew.

Then his arms sped up again, his hips fucking forward, into the sleeve, into the circle of his hand. “Ah,” Rami cried. “Ah, ah,please,” he whisper-gasped. Skye couldn’t hear the words, but his auto-captions picked them up, laying them there, bare for the world to see.

The chat went wild again, everyone screaming in all caps that it was the first time they’d ever heard his raw voice. Skye had given that to him. He was sure of it. The donations remained the same: he was the winner.

Rami’s body arched, the snakes on his hips stretching, elongating. Skye saw him shudder and knew he was moaning, biting back his cries. And then, he was coming.

HOLY FUCK THAT WAS SO FAST.

MORE. IT CAN’T BE OVER YET.

I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW HOT THIS WAS.

I BET HE’S GOING TO FUCK THE BIDDER.

WHO EVEN IS THIS GUY?

On and on the chat went, and Skye was trying not to panic because although he was still achingly hard, his head was clearer, and he knew this might have crossed the line. He might have sabotaged his chance at happiness again because he was a mess, and with Rami, he couldn’t let go of the feeling of utter and desperate possession.

His trembling hands reached for his phone.

Skye: I’m sorry.

There was no answer, of course. Rami sat there, his chest heaving as he recovered from his orgasm. Then he leaned forward to type. A moment went by, and then the donation box reset to zero. Was he canceling them all?

WINNER: MAN OF EXCESS. CHECK YOUR INBOX FOR ADDRESS AND INSTRUCTIONS.

NEW BID: TELL ME HOW TO COME. FORTY-FIVE SECONDS.

For a moment, Skye had no idea what that meant, but then the donation box began to blow up again. A hundred, five hundred, fifteen hundred—three thousand. He attempted toclick on the box, but it was greyed out for him. Rami had banned him, but when he grabbed his phone and opened his bank account app, he saw the money had already transferred.

So maybe he hadn’t broken everything. Maybe that was Rami setting a boundary the best he could while in the middle of his live. Skye could accept it. He would accept it. He would do anything Rami asked so long as he could have this moment, so long as he got to be the one who decided for Rami next.

Even if he was never able to do it again.

The winning bidder had Rami edging himself for five minutes on the clock. Skye came hard when it was over, crying into a pillow as he spilled all over himself. It had been a gorgeous thing to watch his lover fall apart. And it was infuriating because Skye wanted to be the one who brought him to orgasm.

His words.

His hands.

His toys.

His money.

He had no right to feel that way. No right to be so possessive and demanding. But it was what it was. He couldn’t deny it. When the screen went black again, Skye sat, almost afraid to move as he waited for his phone to blow up. A minute passed, then two, then five.

His heart sank to his feet when there was no response to his text.

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