Page 222 of Seer Prophet

Tears came to his eyes.

I felt hurt on him that time, real hurt. It verged on despair.

“Please.” He closed his eyes. “Please… don’t do that to me. Please…”

“Okay.” I caressed his face. “Hey, Revik. We won’t. We won’t, Revik.”

Feeling that I meant it, he closed his eyes, leaning into me as he relaxed back into the bed. Relief expanded off his light, pooling around me in a denser warmth. Love lived there, a pulling, dense affection, a wanting that now felt more open, if still vibrating faintly with fear.

“Please,” he murmured. “Please don’t ask me to watch that. I couldn’t handle it, Allie. I really fucking couldn’t.”

I nodded, swallowing. After a bare pause, I said, “What if I didn’t mean me? What if I wanted to watch you with someone?”

His body tensed.

I felt that fear again, sliding through his light. I felt him trying to read me, even as I felt his jealousy flare. He wanted to know what I meant. He wanted to see it explicitly. I showed him, and he let out a low groan, his fingers clenching in my hair.

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “Do you want me to do that, Allie?”

I felt my chest tighten.

I knew we were trying to be honest, but I honestly wasn’t sure if I really wanted that. I think some part of me was turned on by the idea.

I knew the reality would be completely different.

“Just oral?” he asked, pressing the point.

He really wanted to know.

I felt my skin heat as I looked at him. “Would you?”

His pain worsened. “Fuck.” He closed his eyes.

I felt him fighting it, feeling a trap in either answer he gave, even as his body responded to the idea. Somehow it reassured me that I felt the same conflict on him as I did on me: desire to do it or see it in the abstract but misgivings and wariness around the reality.

After another pause, he gave a low gasp.

“Maybe.” He looked at me, his eyes dense, but holding a lot of pain. “Maybe,” he repeated. “But not now, Allie. Not yet. I don’t want to do that with you yet.”

I nodded.

That time, it was me who felt relieved.

I felt the pain in him worsen as he felt my reaction to his words.

The fact that I’d asked him continued to reverberate somewhere in his light, both threatening him and turning him on. I felt the same push-pull around wanting physical pain and not wanting it, wanting me to control him but fearing the vulnerability––hating the vulnerability almost, since it threw him back into being a child once more, the ward of his uncle.

So we would do it this way first, I thought to myself.

We would evoke the feeling, without fully going there.

I felt him agree, even as his relief grew more intense.

“Allie,” he said.

I felt him wanting to say more, but again, he stopped.

I watched as he fought to pull it back, to control his light. Somehow, it reminded me again of our first night together in that cabin, meaning the first time we’d had sex, when he’d still been unsure about how I saw him.

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