Page 57 of Faithful

My heart skips a beat. Sharp memory flashes through my mind. Us, in my living room on the couch, entangled and undone and him asking me if I wanted to take things further. His odd reaction to my confession about my inexperience. Then Leigh interrupting. And weeks of never really speaking about it again. Did I question it? Yes. Did I fantasize about it? Yes. Did I ask him openly why he never offered it until now? No. Because a) the possibility of rejection terrifies me and b) this wouldn’t be fooling around anymore. This would be something different, something he and I have been avoiding giving a proper name.

“Do you want me to?” I ask, the tremor in my voice betraying my nerves.

“Yes, Dylan. I do. I want you to fuck me like I’ve never been fucked before.”

Breathless silence fills the small space between our faces.

I can’t seem to believe he’s allowing this.

Every little strip of my skin fused with his is suddenly flushed and throbbing. We’re both rock hard and so far I’m the only one who’s been serviced. Doesn’t seem fair.

“What about…” I lift myself up a little to make room, my hand skimming down to his cock.

Kai draws me back to him, his mouth nearing my ear. “I want you inside me. I want you to fill me up. To ride me like an animal until I scream and cry bloody tears… Please…”

I don’t know if he means it or if this is one of his perverted mind games, but my composure crumbles into millions of pieces. “Okay.” It’s all I can muster as he shoves me off to the side and retrieves something from the nightstand drawer.

Lube and a pack of condoms, I realize as I scan the items he’s laid out on the sheets.

“I’ve never done this before,” I whisper mostly to myself, embarrassed. My hands shake from the mixture of fear and anticipation.

“You watched porn,” Kai rasps out. “Besides, I’m very good at giving instructions.”

My cock likes the idea. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be so goddamn eager to bury itself into Kai as deep as possible.

“Should we turn on the lights?” I ask, choosing to go for what’s familiar first–the condoms.

Kai moves on the bed to sit in front of me, his chest and shoulders and forearms on display. “No lights.”

I understand why. Because the dark conceals his scars.

He then leans in and kisses me. Hands slide across skin, touching gently. Tongues graze. Breaths mingle.

I feel hot all over. Hot and defenseless and dizzy.

He draws back.

“Put it on,” his voice says out of the shadows.

There’s the rip of a condom wrapper. A dollop of lube smeared over fingertips. The movement of limbs stretching and falling apart. A line of light shimmering across the curve of an inked back.

It’s both painful and quite erotic to watch Kai–bloodthirsty, controlling, overly moody Kai–laying himself out for me like this. Almost like he’s a sacrifice. A twisted version of it, anyway.

I slide closer and run my palm from the nape of his neck to the twin indentations right above his ass. His body–long and lean and beautiful–responds with a small shudder.

There’s a muffled groan too.

He shoves his face deeper into the mattress, tugs on the sheets, and whispers, “Use your finger first.”

My own arousal be damned, I dip my head and kiss him between the shoulder blades. I sense that perhaps he needs it more than he knows, that foreplay we once talked about on the corner of Eighty-fourth and Points.

My lips linger there on his upper back, caressing the grooves of muscles until they are no longer tense.

Kai is silent except the occasional shallow gasps he’s so desperately trying to suppress while I run a deliberate hand down the arch of his spine and into the crease between his buttocks.

“Yeah…” He shifts, hips canting upward slightly and head angling as if he’s serious about dissolving into the mattress. “Get me ready, babe.”

Unsteadily, I brush a gentle finger against his opening, teasing him for a bit before slipping inside, into the tight, forbidden heat of his body.

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