Page 18 of Possession

I freeze. I’ve been so focused on my own unexpected sexual response that I haven’t really thought about his. I actually haven’t even been thinking about sexual acts at all. Not directly. Not specifically.

I know I had plenty of sex with men in the past, but that was so long ago, and it was a different version of me. My body was different then. My instincts were different. I was a man then. I’m not now. I’m an animal. A beast.

As I continue to hold Lucas against me, aware of my arousal and his, the aggression in my body clarifies itself. I understand it now. Yes, itisaggression, but it doesn’t mean I want to hunt or hurt him—because Lucas isn’t my prey.

He’s my possession.

SEVEN

Lucas

Oh mygod. I have never been in physical contact with another man’s cock, but there is a very big, very hard one pressed against my ass right now. What I don’t understand is why my own dick is stiff and aching in my jeans—and this isn’t even the first time.

What’s going on? Why do I keep getting hard?

When I jerk off, it takes me forever to get hard. I usually have to get frustrated and rough before I can come. And during my attempted hookup, I couldn’t even finish.

I thought there was something wrong with me,physicallywrong with me. But my dick, which wouldn’t hold its erection in my last encounter, is now rock hard, and I haven’t even touched it.

It’s hard because I was touchinghim. Because I was looking athiscock. Because I was watching it stiffen—and I liked it.

But now that dick is pressed against my ass and I’m scared. I don’t know what he’s going to do. I don’t know what Iwanthim to do.

So far he hasn’t hurt me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t.

And even if he doesn’t actually hurt me, do I want him to … fuck me? Do I even have a choice? Do Iwanta choice?

Fuck, I’m so confused.

I try not to squirm because I know it annoys him, but it’s hard to stay still with his forearm pressing against the head of my dick. He froze when he first felt my erection—and, yeah, I knowit’s obvious—but now he’s breathing harder against me and his hand is starting to move across my bare torso.

This kind of contact, the way he’s so often been holding me, isn’t something I could ever have initiated myself. I’m not sure it’s something I could even have accepted if he hadn’t insisted on it. But he did insist and there was no point in fighting him.

I think that’s why I relaxed so quickly the first time he did it, accepted it so easily. And even though I know he’s dangerous, the way he’s been holding me has felt surprisingly good, even … safe.

But now I don’t know. I don’t know what he’s going to do.

I wish he could talk to me. I don’t think he’s able to. When I told him that I wished I knew his name, he was upset. It felt like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

He can communicate somewhat with tone, but I need more than that right now. I need to know what he’s going to do—

I gasp as his fingers sweep across my nipple. He teases and rubs it until I’m making a little whimpering sound that I don’t recognize, like the stimulation is somehow both too much and not enough. Then his hand slides up to my throat. It makes my heart leap, but when he squeezes lightly, it has my eyelids fluttering. I relax in his grip, like somehow it steals the thoughts from my head. I shudder as fresh arousal spills through me.

He makes a rumbling sound like he’s pleased then his hand slides down again, grazing my nipples teasingly before sweeping across my abs. I’m panting by the time he reaches the button of my jeans.

My heart leaps when he flicks open the button. I don’t know if it’s because this is new or because I’m a little bit scared, but I am hyperaware of every sensation, and the light pressure against my cock as he glides down my zipper has me trembling—but not exactly in a bad way.

I’m scared, but I’m curious. I’m so, so aroused, and I’ve never felt anything like it before.

He’s still behind me, still holding me as he opens my pants. His hard cock is still pressed against my ass. He’s breathing hard against the back of my neck.

His hand reaches inside my pants and grips my stiff dick through my underwear. I don’t know which of us groans louder.

He sits up. The sudden shift in the mattress has me rolling onto my back. The bare bulbs outside the cell offer enough light to show me his lean, ruggedly handsome face. But he’s not just handsome. He’s intense. He’s dangerous. I can see it in his eyes, in his expression, in the way he takes hold of my jeans and underwear.

My mouth opens, but I’m not sure what I want to say. No? Yes? Wait? I’m scared?

I don’t say anything.

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