Page 128 of Vital Signs
I settled between his spread legs, looking up at him through my lashes. "Tell me about your parents," I said, fingers tracing patterns on his inner thighs. "What was it like growing up in their house?"
Hunter's confusion was visible, arousal warring with vulnerability. "What does that have to do with—"
"Everything." My touch moved higher, not quite where he needed it. "Tell me about the parts of yourself you lost. The languages. The traditions. I want to know who you were before the drugs stole it."
The request was more intimate than touching him. I was asking him to let me into the spaces addiction had destroyed, the connections drugs had severed. His family. His heritage. His identity.
"My mom used to cook elaborate Sunday dinners," Hunter said finally, voice strained as I rewarded his sharing by wrapping my hand around his cock. "This impossible fusion that shouldn't have worked but did. She'd make us speak Mandarin at the table, said I needed to remember where I came from."
I stroked him slowly while he spoke, his hips jerking with each movement.
"My dad would tell terrible jokes in Korean while Mom cooked. Really awful puns that only worked if you understood both languages. They'd switch between English, Mandarin, and Korean mid-sentence when they didn't want me to understand something important."
"When did you stop speaking to them?" I asked, increasing my pace just enough to make him gasp.
"Four years ago. After I left rehab." His voice cracked.
I moved up his body, capturing his mouth in a kiss that tasted of regret and longing. "They still love you," I said against his lips. "Parents don't stop loving their children. They just stop knowing how to help."
"I hurt them so badly. I chose drugs over everything they'd taught me, everything they'd given me."
"Then choose differently now." My hand returned to stroking him. "Show me those languages aren't gone. Show me they're still part of who you are."
I moved down his body, settling between his spread legs. I looked up at him through my lashes, holding his gaze as I traced my tongue along the underside of his shaft. Hunter's entire body jerked, a curse tearing from his throat.
I pulled off him, enjoying the way he whimpered. "What language was that curse in?"
Hunter stared at me, chest heaving. "English."
"Try again." I settled back between his legs. "Tell me how good it feels in your mother's language."
I took him back in my mouth, deeper this time. Hunter's hands fisted in my hair as I worked him deliberately.
He gasped and cursed, and this time the word carried a different rhythm.
The desperation in his voice made it sound like a prayer. I pulled off him again. "What did you say?"
Hunter's face flushed deeper. "It means fuck. I said fuck in Korean."
"Good boy." The praise made him shudder. "But I want you to ask me for something in Mandarin too."
Hunter's breathing turned ragged, something desperate clawing up from his chest. The words fought him, buried under years of shame, but need dragged them to the surface anyway.
He whispered something in Mandarin, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.
"Perfect." I rewarded him by taking him back in my mouth briefly before pulling away again.
Hunter was close, thighs trembling as he held back, but I wasn't done with him yet. I wanted to hear something that would unlock the deepest part of who he used to be.
"I want to hear something else," I said when he was trembling with need. "Something intimate."
"What?"
I moved up his body until we were face to face, my hand wrapping around his arousal. "Call me something. In Chinese. Something a lover would say."
Hunter's eyes widened, panic flickering across his features. "I don't... I can't..."
"You can." I stroked him slowly. "Something intimate. Something important to you."
