“Not yet, my love,” I said in my own native tongue. He couldn’t understand me, but he didn’t seem to notice I wasn’t speaking English. I pressed my fingers deeper, spreading them wide, and when he shuddered and moaned into the pillow, I lifted my hand and smacked him on his right ass cheek.
“Oh Jesus, oh fuck,” he gasped, voice thready, on the edge of control. “Vanya. Vanya, please,” he sobbed.
I smacked him again. Then again.
I was becoming an expert in his body. We had not established a phrase that he could say for me to stop, so if he ever even uttered a syllable that sounded like no, or enough, it would end immediately.
For now, I would pay attention to what he needed. What he craved.
The world was too soft on him. His mother had pushed him to his limits and yet had shielded him from all the little bumps and bruises life handed out to teach children how to be strong.
He had been robbed of who he was by too many people in his life. And if I could give him this one small, significant thing, then I could go to my grave feeling like I’d done something important.
And, if after all this was over, he let me keep him, I would also go to my grave happy.
“Vanya,” he begged again as I grazed his prostate with the pads of my fingers. “I need to come. I really need to come.”
“Yes,” I told him. I used my free hand to turn him onto his back without pulling out of him, and he nearly kicked me in the face, but it was worth it to see his expression.
His brows were high on his forehead, beads of sweat decorating his ruddy skin. His lips were parted, nostrils flaring, hands spasming like they didn’t know what they were supposed to do.
His cock, flushed, small, head pulled fully out of the foreskin, was leaking all over his lower stomach.
“You are so beautiful,” I murmured.
“I need you,” Micah answered back.
I would have fucked him, but tonight wasn’t for me, so I shouldered his legs a little further apart, then sucked the head of his dick between my lips.
He gasped, then cried out as I took him all theway into my mouth. He fit perfectly, fat, heavy, throbbing in the center of my tongue as I curled it around his shaft. His hips began to buck as he fucked my face, and I pumped my fingers in and out in the same rhythm.
When he slowed, so did I. When he went faster, I echoed him.
It didn’t take my brilliant, gorgeous little goalie long to pick up on that, and he set the pace. He teased himself, fast then slow, slow then fast. A deep, hard thrust into my mouth, which I followed up in his ass.
I felt it when he realized he was ready to let go. His hips began to slam, a rhythmic thrust over and over, his thighs squeezing around my ears as he fed me his climax.
I swallowed heavily and gave his prostate a hard rub, milking him of everything he had left, and when I licked him clean, his hands had fallen to his sides, fingers loose, mouth open with his soft breath. I watched the pulse in his neck as it began to slow and fade back into his skin, and only when I was sure he was ready for me to let go did I pull away.
“Don’t leave,” he whispered.
“I will just clean you up.” I eased off the bed and fetched a cloth with cold water because I couldn’t stand to be away from him for too long.
He curled in toward me as I knelt on the bed, and he didn’t move much as I swiped him clean of come and spit. Dropping the cloth beside the bed, I tuckedus both under the sheets, then let him rest his head on my chest as his arm fell over my waist.
“Where are my things?” he murmured.
He hadn’t asked me that before. I had to assume it was because he was still feeling afraid and lost. “Clothes are on dresser, beside the bathroom door. Shoes in front. Phone on the nightstand. Cane beside it. You are safe here.”
“I know,” he murmured. He didn’t nestle. This wasn’t cuddling.
He was clinging, and I held him back just as tight.
“You are safe here,” I repeated. Maybe he knew, but I wasn’t sure he’d believe anyone in this moment. “Get some rest.”
“I…” He didn’t finish his sentence, and I didn’t ask him to. I lost myself in the rhythm of his breath, and though I didn’t expect it, I found it impossible to resist the darkness creeping at my edges, and I gave in.
He was leaving.
