Page 48 of Breaking You Open

Louis chuckles, an arm over his face as he catches his breath. “Good morning to you too.”

I crawl over his body, straddling him, and he grunts as I lay my full weight on top of his chest. “You were hard.”

“I’m sure I was.” Louis strokes my back, fingertips sliding up my spine. “But you know, you shouldn’t assume that just because I’m hard, you can start touching me like that when I’m not awake. There’s a thing called consent, you know?”

I frown, my heart kicking up a beat. “You mean…you didn’t want me to?”

“No, I don’t mean that, silly boy; Ididwant it, but it’s possible that I didn’t. Same thing goes for me; I wouldn’t just start to fuck you while you’re asleep unless we’ve talked about it first.”

“But…Iwouldwant that.” My voice thickens. I hate when I don’t understand what Louis is telling me. Makes me feel stupid, like I’ve done something wrong, and I hate feeling that way. It’s the way Aaron always made me feel. Whatever I did, whatever I said, it was never the right thing as far as he was concerned. “Are you angry with me?” The words hitch up my throat before I can stop them, and my eyes water in their wake.

“No, little Sparrow.” Louis presses a kiss on my forehead. “I’m not angry with you.” He strokes my hair, and I lean into the touch, desperate for the wordless reassurance.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

We stay like that for a long time—eyes closed, chest to chest, his hand stroking my hair. I revel in his warmth as my anxiety recedes.

“Do you have class today?” Louis asks eventually.

“Mm,” I mumble, not quite a yes but not a no either.

“Well, then you better go.”

“Don’t want to,” I whine. “Want to stay here with you.”

Louis grips my hair tighter. “Be good for me, okay? Or better yet, be good for yourself.” He noses into my neck, the heat of his breath ghosting against my ear. “Be warm. Be safe.”

“Louis,” I whimper. Lined up against him like this, I feel our difference in size more than ever—how my cock presses against his lower stomach and how I have to stretch my legs wide to straddle him properly. Makes me all dizzy and hot with want.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Rub yourself on me just like that.” His hand finds the dip of my back, and then further down, skirting over my hole. I whine and push myself against the finger, torn on what pleasure to chase—that of either my cock or my ass. When his finger slides inside—eased from the lube and the stretch from last night—I almost cry as my erection slides against his hairy stomach. I’ve been hard ever since I started to suck his cock, and it won’t take much to make me come.

“Sweet boy,” Louis mumbles. “Lovely boy. You’re going to come for me now. Come for me, little Sparrow.”

His finger punching in and out of me, my cock trapped between us, and his words showering me with praise…They all serve to light up the pleasure centers in my brain one by one, and I cry out as, with one last desperate jerk of my hips, my whole body stiffens up. Helpless to the force of my orgasm, I come, my cock twitching and spurting between our bodies.

Louis groans. “Yeah, that’s it. So fucking hot.” His massive hand clutches my ass cheek and gives it a slap. I jerk, moaning with aftershocks. “Clean up your mess now, boy. Want to see that tongue of yours at work again.”

Dizzy and panting, I slide down his body once more and bury my face in his lower belly, licking up my own cum and moaning as I do so. It feels wanton and depraved. Aaron used to say I was a slut—a useless little sex doll. As my tongue laps over Louis’s hairy stomach and his hand strokes my scalp, I float into a memory.

One time when I was about fifteen, and Madame Sylvie was away for a work trip, I heard noises coming from the living room: high-pitched moans from the TV, the slapping sound of flesh, and muffled boyish laughter.

I leaned against the doorway, heart pounding in my chest. Aaron was sitting on a chair together with four of his friends. All of them watched the TV with intent, hungry eyes.

“Wha-What are you watching?” I asked.

“Porn,” Aaron said casually without giving me a glance. “Come here.”

“There’s no seat.”

“I said come here,” he said, pointing to his lap.

I’d never watched porn before, so with my fear overridden by curiosity, I did what he told me. As soon as the back of my legs hit his knees, his arms shot out, and he wrapped them around me, trapping me in his lap.

At my surprised yelp, one of Aaron’s friends ripped his gaze from the TV.

“Who’s this?” he asked. “Your foster brother?”

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