Page 32 of Was I Ever Free

The darkness feels safe as I stand on the edge of another world entirely.

A world where I have the privilege to unabashedly watch Bastian like this.

I watch as his left hand finds the zipper of his jeans, his pants still unbuttoned, and pulls.

The sound tickles my senses in such a delectable way, I find myself taking a small step forward.

“Hands by your sides, let me see all of you,” he says in a hushed voice.

I do as he says.

I drop my hands, palms splayed wide over each thigh as if trying to hold on to something. My eyes track his hips. They lift ever so slightly while he pushes his pants down far enough that I discover exactly where the trail of dark hair is leading to. And I need more.

Thankfully, my eyes have become accustomed to the near pitch-black room, gaining more and more of my sight back, eager—desperate to take in every inch of what Bastian is offering.

And finally, I see it.

Falling heavy onto his stomach, long fingers curling around it. He gives it a hard tug while resting his body into the armchair. His right arm finds the back of his head, leaning into the wall behind him, a few strands of blond hair falling over his forehead. I notice a glint of metal just above his shaft, but cannot make out what it is. His pose is so relaxed, I could barely tell he was touching himself if only looking at the top half of him.

Except for his dark brown eyes.

No, those are violent. But it is a different kind of violence. One I have never seen or experienced before. A kind that makes me want to fall to my knees and worship a different god entirely.

They are so penetrating I convince myself he is reading my every thought.

The silence curls around us. A writhing, breathing, living thing that slips through me and into the very center of my heart. It pounds and pounds as I watch with bated breath as he strokes himself long and hard. The sound of skin on skin is the only thing piercing the cloak of quietude encircling us.

I could live in this silence forever.

I squeeze my thighs together, my hands still firmly planted on either side while my core throbs in ways I do not think I knew was possible.

I have felt my body heat before, but not like this.

Not like when I have Bastian laid out before me.

His square chin slightly raised up toward me.

His eyes slowly raking up my legs.

They linger near my hips, slowly up my waist, then to my breasts, incinerating me when we finally lock eyes.

His breathing grows coarser, deeper as I notice his stomach tightening, his lips pressing together as he lightly bites down into his bottom lip.

The sound of his orgasm is sudden but quiet as he spills on his hand and stomach, but it could have been a bomb, for the effect on me is the same. His eyes shutter, half-closed, mouth falling slightly open, while his head falls forward, the veins in his neck bulging with the exertion. When his dark eyes snap to mine, all I see is deep-seatedneed.

I let out a small whimper in response, my eyes locking on him while his movements slow to a halt, though his chest still heaves.

From what he just did.

What he just showed me.

I have never felt this alive.

This… free.

And I have done nothing but watch.

Suddenly, the possibilities are endless. And that in itself is intoxicating.

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