Page 85 of Fragile Facade
I grin, refraining from shaking my head. Moros does crazy things to a person’s perspective of the world if it’s powerful enough to make people believe that suicide curses are real. I know Soren doesn’t actually believe in it, but he’s tempted by the idea because so many of his family members have yielded to it. He’s intrigued by outrunning it just to be better than them, which means he doesn’t really want to know what his scans showed. Because he can’t outrun his own mind.
“Do you trust me?”
“Fuck no,” he scoffs.
Grinning, I lift my head to look at him. I know my face is a mess, eyes barely visible through all the swelling and bruising, but he doesn’t look at me any differently than he has before. We had a tender moment last night in my bed, and we’re both a bit messed up about it, so I know tenderness isn’t what he wants right now. He needs something volatile to justify the softness that’ll come after.
“Are you sure?”
His lips press together, and he forces a breath out of his nose. Shifting his gaze to my mouth again, he speaks to it rather than to my eyes. “I can’t. I can’t trust you.”
Above us, a patient screams bloody murder from a window high up, and when we both look, lightning illuminates the sky. Soren’s breath shifts into something shaky and laboured, and then he grabs the back of my neck, forcing me to look at him again.
“I have so many questions about fucking everything,” he says in frustration. Looking into my eyes, he adds, “Choke them out of me.” It’s a plea, and I’m finally hearing him beg. It’s not how I imagined it, but I can give him this one thing without sacrificing anything in return.
Nothing else needs to be said as adrenaline swells within me, amplifying my power over him and turning it into something I won’t disrespect. I press on his shoulders, Soren only fighting me for a second before he lowers to his knees, breathing even harder. He won’t undo my pants, but that’s okay because I like capturing his attention. He watches my broken and busted fingers undo my button, lower the zipper, and palm my cock through the opening. His nostrils flare as I rub myself in front of him, the barrier of my boxers doing the trick to agitate him into action. With the wall at his back and the storm all around us, the patient screams again, and Soren’s hands lift to bat mine away.
The glossy blue of his eyes flicks up to me once, and I’m so entirely enraptured by it that I miss his hand moving. He grips my cock hard and firm, squeezing the base to show dominance from his knees. I’m already hard, hardening impossibly further, my mind whirling with filthy, insane thoughts about what I want to do to him, but when the rain starts, he lets his own fantasies run rampant.
Soren’s tongue swipes at the tip, dragging a hiss from between my new teeth. I brace my hand on the wall and look down, watching him tease me in a new way. There’s nothing dangerous about this, but it still feels dangerous. There’s nothing diabolical or unhinged about a blowjob, but he makes it intense because of what it means to him. A need, a want, a way to choke back questions he feels entitled to know the answers to, a mingling of what he desires and how much it despairs him, and a submissive act warped by delusional dominance. It’s perfect because it’s so simpleandso complicated. It’s my undoing, because seeing him like this has changed yet another fundamental part of me.
So, while he’s not looking, I drop the first layer of disguises I’m wearing to let me, as mostly myself, enjoy Soren Sauder willingly on his knees for me.
The rain picks up when he runs his tongue down the side of my dick, familiarizing himself with the desires he has. It only takes him a few seconds before he gives in to temptation and sucks me into his mouth. My eyes close and my head hangs between my shoulders as his wet, warm mouth envelopes me, bringing to life everything that’s been dead inside me since I started wearing so many masks. I feel him. His hesitation, but mostly his needs, and that’s not something I’m familiar with feeling.
I’m never attuned to the needs of others. Never. Until him.
He wants the questions choked out of him, and I want to give it to him—to comply with his command. In one more minute…
My ass clenches in restraint when he takes me down as far as he can, gagging around the head of my cock. He coughs, but he doesn’t stop, and the spasm of his throat one second and the caressing of his tongue the next are the most potent things I’ve ever felt. Pleasure shivers through me, scorching the raindrops into nothing as they meet the back of my neck. I sink into it, let myself experience it, and breathe through what it means. How it feels. How it changes me.
Then I take him at his word and shift the power dynamic.
I thrust my hips, and Soren’s head smacks off the bricks. He tries to lean forward, but I fuck his mouth hard enough to keep him pinned to the wall. His ass hits his heels, and his eyes look up at me in a slight panic that doesn’t last long. They turn wicked, and it makes me smirk to see him so beautifully defiant while at my complete mercy. He opens his throat, taking a few tries to get it right, building off the weather and letting it build off him. Then I give him what he wants.
I choke every fucking question from his throat.
His teeth scrape my cock, but it only adds wreckage to my ruin. Fisting a hand in his wet hair, I hold him where I want him and don’t stop thrusting until his tears mix with the rain and his gagging turns to actual gasping for air. When I pull out, he inhales harshly, but his hands land on my ass and he tugs me forward, gulping all of me down in one slobbery swallow.
“Fuck,” I whisper to the skies, unsure if I’m fucking him or his mouth is fucking me. All I know is that I feel him everywhere, and I’m not familiar with someone consuming me so wholly. Sex acts are usually just that. Acts. This is something more.
Soren takes charge while I pretend I’m still in control. Every part of me comes rushing to the surface, and for the moment, I just enjoy it. Enjoy him. Him and whatever game we’re playing but not admitting to. I have control, but I don’t try to take more, letting him strangle himself on my dick because he fucking needs it.He needs me.
Shit, I think I need him, too.
His drool mixes with the rain, coating my dick and making every slide of his mouth euphoric. More of my facades fall away as pleasure takes over and I’m unable to put in any effort to keep them in place. I stare at the sky as he sucks me down, wondering if it’s looking at me and seeing me for the first time since I was young. But when Soren’s hand joins his mouth, my head snaps forward and I take in an even better view.
Him, ragged and breathless, using my body without a lick of shame for it. He’s sexy when he takes what he wants, and I hope he never stops. This is trust. Even if he says he can’t trust me, he’s showing me that he’s trying. Despite how ferociously I hope he doesn’t look up at me, I’m also desperate for him to look at my face so I can gauge who I am by the expression on his.
Soren’s free hand pushes on my hip so he can move me back enough to inhale. Saliva stretches between his lips and my cock, and he stares at it, transfixed by the strings that attach us. Or maybe by something else because when he looks up at me, I barely have time to feel self-conscious when he says, “Come here.”
My healing jaw clenches.
“Killian.”
I can’t. I want to, but I can’t go to my knees. I don’t know why.
“Fucking pathetic.” He bangs his fist on the back of my knee, making me buckle. When I fall forward, he catches me, and I try to fight him off, but then he grabs the sides of my face and pulls my mouth to his.
