He swipes it onto my left cheek, near the outside, almost on my hip. I flinch hard, but not because I’m scared. It takes everything I have not to reach down and start touching my dick. That’s not what this is about. But I can’t help it, it’s just so hot for some reason. And I know he knows I’m rock hard, my cock embarrassingly full and ready for action.
My emotions wobble for a second, but this isn’t meant to be sexual and all Young-gi is doing is taking…taking care of me. I don’t know why it’s different, but my dick stays hard and I just…let him do this for me.
Young-gi spends a few more seconds than necessary applying the medicine and checking everything over a second time, but before I’m ready for it, he’s reaching for my shorts and pulling them up. The elastic waistband gets caught on my hard dick, and I groan.
He pauses, then carefully pulls the shorts up around my cock without touching it, smoothing his fingers around the edges of the waistband. His hands don’t stray anywhere intimate, but I groan again anyway, loving the way his big hands wrap around my hips.
He presses himself against my back, lays himself over me like a blanket. He peels his hands off me like it’s difficult for him, and grips the counter on either side of me.
“Do you need something, Tommy?” His question is rumbly and deep.
“No,” I gurgle the word, pushing back against him because I love the way he feels.
“Are you sure?” And this time, he sounds amused.
“Yep.”
“Hm.” He backs off.
I hang my head on my shoulders, breathing hard, trying to pull myself together so I can face him without a tent in my pants.
He lets me have my moment, doesn’t rush me, as I try to work through the emotional roller coaster that he puts me through every time I get turned on. It was delayed this time, happening after instead of during. And the shame spiral seems muted, less catastrophic, less sickening. It’s not gone, but I handle it.
“Actually,” I say quietly, still facing the granite countertop, “I think I do need something.”
Silence, perhaps surprised silence. I said it so easily–Ineedsomething–but I gave it a sarcastic, teasing drawl. A little spin on the tone to imply that I don’t really, truly, need anything, that I’m just being a smart ass. But he must know. He must see right through me, because he lets that silence sit just a few seconds too long, like he’s making me acknowledge what I just said.
I grip the counter, but let the words stand.
“Oh?” he finally drawls, and I turn. He’s sitting in front of the food, but hasn’t started eating yet. He’s just staring at me, watching me, like always. He waves his hand in an invitation to continue. “Well, go on then. Tell me what youneed, Tommy.”
Bastard, he’s so elegant and fucking hot. Sexy, dominating prick. Why do my mental insults feel so fond and affectionate? I don’t do affection!
Ugh.
I huff, feeling oddly…lighthearted. “Next time, give me more bruises.”
Heat flares in his gaze like I just lit a match. And the promise in his slow nod, the way he beckons me to my chair with a finger, the way he makes me sit on the hard stool despite my soreness, gives me pleasant, excited shivers.
“Eat,” he says sternly. “We’ve got meetings tomorrow, so I want you back in bed soon to rest up.”
We. He casually makes it clear that where he goes, I go.
I wait for annoyance or indignation, even fear, but it doesn’t come, which surprises me. I was never allowed to be alone when I was a kid. So, naturally, you’d think I’d want to be alone all the time now.
But…
That’s never been true. I’ve never wanted to be alone, I’ve just never had someone around that Iwantedto be stuck with. At least… until now.
I take a big bite of my food to hide my smile, but maybe Young-gi sees it anyway, because before he starts eating, he smirks and says, “Good boy.”
Chapter 23
Young-gi
Did I really think I was obsessed with Tommy before now? I was a fool. That’s nothing. A drop in the ocean. Now? Yes, this is obsession. Before? A mere curiosity, a mild fixation.
I keep him in my line of sight, turning slightly in my chair as he bounces around the spacious office. We’re in the tower of my legitimate business, and I vividly recall the last time I had him here. The way he revealed a little more of himself, the way he submitted to my demands, to my stare.
