Page 15 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. Two
“Damn you, Rhett.”
“Pretty sure you’d rather fuck me.”
He groans in response, pumping his hips forward. “Why do you always do this to me?”
My smirk widens. “Because I love you.”
Oliver’s eyes snap upward again, locking with mine, an almost panicked look on his face. I’ve been saying it more lately—at least I think I have been. It’s not enough, but it’s what I can give.
I’m trying.
“Rhett,” he pants.
I promise I’m trying.
“Why are you hiding parts of yourself if you know you don’t have to?” I say, switching the subject before the intimacy of the moment makes me feel like my skin is on fire.
“I’m just in my head,” he forces out. “I know we can trust her.”
With a sigh, I press my face into his neck. That’s not something I can help with. All I can do is be here and try to be supportive. And dammit, I hate it. If I could take all his problems away and bear the weight of them by myself, I would.
“I love you, too,” he says quietly.
“I know,” I murmur against his hot skin.
After that, I continue moving my hand up and down his dick until he’s nothing more than goo. When he finishes, he’s barely able to keep quiet. His cum covers my hand, and I make him lick it all off. He does so with no protest.
“Such a good boy,” I say, shoving my fingers into his mouth.
He sucks them greedily. I love when he’s like this. Compliant and cum happy. He’d probably do anything I asked him to. Not that I have anything in mind—we need to get back.
I know from multiple fuck-ups that Oliver needs affection after sex. When we were younger, I left him alone right after because it’s what I needed, so I assumed it’s what he needed, too. Instead, it made him feel used and unloved, which was the exact opposite of what I was trying to accomplish.
We had to find different types of aftercare that worked for both of us. Cuddling after that much intimacy is hard on me, so we found other things that work. Lazy conversations, showering together, touches here and there or with enough distractions, et cetera. We make it work.
But now, my attention is about to be divided between him, Elliot, and Wren, and I don’t want him feeling un-prioritized. So after I wash my hands, I keep an arm around him as we walk back. It doesn’t have the best effect on me, but I can manage.
Or so I think. But my father’s voice invades my thoughts much more quickly than I anticipated.
You don’t deserve my forgiveness.
Nothing good in you.
Oliver slides my arm off his shoulders. “Stop.”
“I want to.”
Say it back, boy.
“No.” Oliver shies away when I try to pull him close again. “I don’t like where you go when you force yourself into it like this. It’s like I lose you for a few minutes.”
Now get up and give me a hug.
My chest tightens.
That’s better. No more bullshit, all right? You’re old enough to know better.
Fuck.I’m slipping. I shouldn’t’ve tried. I shouldn’t’ve—
