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“Please, please, please, I need to come, Zeke,” it’s almost pathetic the way I beg for him, but this is the effect he has on me. He turns me into a whiny, panting mess of desperation, and deep down I fucking love it. Despite giving me the most spectacular high in the entire world, nothing truly satiates my reckless need for him. The need that overtakes everything inside of me.
Thrusting into me vigorously, he digs his fingertips into the sides of my throat as I tilt my head to look back at him. Our skin slips together, slick with sweat, as his motions become increasingly erratic. My eyes meet his big blue irises and in that split second, I’m a fucking goner.
Dark blue like the undiscovered depths of the deepest ocean, the places no one dares to explore because the unknown is terrifying. But it’s where I want to be, consequences be damned. I hope whatever hides within his darkness swallows me up completely.
He sweeps his tongue across the seam of my lips and I immediately cave, inviting him in eagerly. His kiss is rough and I quickly lose the battle as our tongues wrestle for dominance. Just when I’m on the verge of combusting, his thrusts slow to a steady, controlled pace. Zeke gets off on keeping me teetering on the edge without allowing me to fall into the abyss.
“More,” I bite at his bottom lip. “I still want to feel you tomorrow morning.”
He slides one hand from my hip over to my cock and clamps down in a punishing grip. Kissing and sucking his way down the column of my neck, he stops at my shoulder, sinking his teeth into my flesh. Marking me as his for the entire world to see. His speed increases again, and he murmurs against my shoulder, “Fuck yourself on me, baby boy. Fuck yourself hard, but don’t you dare fucking come.”
My body reacts to his words like the snap of a rubber band that’s been pulled to its breaking point. My hips go wild as I thrust backward onto his cock and propel forward into his fist, faster, and harder, letting go of any last semblance of control I may have had. There’s no rhythm to my motions as I move back and forth sloppily, chasing the euphoria, gripping his hips to keep steady.
“Not fucking yet,” he growls into my ear as he squeezes just below the head of my dick.
“Please, Zeke,” I mewl. “My dick feels like it’s going to explode, I need to come.”
It’s borderline painful holding back, but I crave the control he has over me.
Outside of this room, every move of every day is calculated. I always have to be in control when it comes to this world, this life. But with Zeke, I don’t need to think. His commands drown out all of the noise inside of my head. The constant hyper-awareness and vigilance. All I have to do is obey, and it feels so goddamn good.
“Not,” thrust, “yet,” thrust.
My eyes roll back as he licks the marks left behind by his teeth, and the sting makes me jerk forward. Taking my earlobe between his teeth, he bites down gently and that’s all it takes for me to crumble.
“Now,” he breathes into my ear as he fucks me faster and strokes me slow, confusing all the wiring in my brain. Synapses fire off in all directions as my entire body tenses, preparing to burst into flames.
His warm breath flutters across my flesh and my balls tighten as my release spurts all over the blanket in long, thick ropes, at the same moment he releases inside of me. My orgasm is so intense that I collapse back against Zeke’s chest while he holds me in his arms.
Our motions slow and our bodies still together momentarily, before he slides his hand from my neck, across my chest. We catch our breath, and he runs his lips gently over my shoulder, sending shivers throughout my core.
“You did so fucking good for me, baby boy,” he murmurs breathlessly against my skin, and my heart thrums rapidly, nearly bursting at the seams.
Zeke pulls out of me slowly, releasing his grip on my dick as he tilts his head and catches my lips with his. His kiss is soft, slow, and excruciatingly painful all at the same time. Because every time he kisses me, little pieces of cement are chipped away from the wall that surrounds my heart, and I know deep down that he won’t be there when the walls come crumbling down entirely.
“Be right back, baby,” he murmurs before stepping away, disappearing into my bathroom. Flopping over onto my back, I kick my cum covered blanket to the foot of the bed. Returning from the bathroom with a wet cloth clenched in his hands, he sits down next to me and cleanses my skin. Gently wiping away his cum as it drips out of me.
I gaze at him longingly, pleading silently for his eyes to meet mine, but they don’t.
Please look at me.
Tossing the cloth into the laundry basket against my wall, he picks his clothes up off the floor and begins to get dressed. My heart tightens in my chest just a bit, but I knew this was going to happen, because this is what Zeke does. He never stays. I am also painfully aware that this is what I agreed to, but I’m not the same man now that I was then, and now I need more.
As he finishes buttoning his jeans and pulls his hooded sweatshirt down over his head, I sit up and reach for his hand.
“Stay? Just for tonight.”
“I’m sorry I can’t, Riot,” he starts, as he pulls away from my grasp and walks to my closet. I stare at him numbly as he pulls a blanket from the top shelf and walks back over to me. Shaking the blanket out, he lays it across the bed, covering me with the warm, plush fabric. “I have some Brotherhood shit to take care of before my appointments tomorrow.”
I know for a fact that neither me nor our boss, Travis, asked him to do anything, so it’s just another excuse. Another way for him to keep me at arms length. Flinging myself back on the bed, I release a sigh and he grins in response. Hovering over me, he pulls the blanket up to my chest and presses his lips gently to mine. Softly and slowly our lips move together as he runs his fingers through my hair. Like lovers do. Except we aren’t lovers, not really anyway. I don’t know what the fuck we are anymore.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he whispers before he turns around and leaves.
When the front door to my apartment closes, my heart breaks just a little more.
I’m not sure why I let myself go there every fucking time. Zeke Adams is a closed book that sits on my shelf, silently begging to be read. Only it’s not just any book, it’s a locked journal and he swallowed the key a long time ago, leaving me on the outside looking in, dying to know what’s inside.
It’s painful enough that he’s closed off to me, but whether he knows it or not, he’s tearing down every defense I’ve built up in this life, and every day I fall for him more and more. On top of everything, he does these caring things for me, these tiny acts of love, and it fucks me up tremendously. His stern demands, and tender touch keep me suspended in this constant state of confusion, and I don’t like the way it feels living here.
