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However, I still held back, afraid of hurting him, since I didn’t know the edge of his limits. Not yet. It would take some time and a lot of exploration to discover how far we could take things and to find what worked between us and what didn’t.
We’d get to that point eventually, if that was what he really wanted. I would need to test just how rough he’d be comfortable with.
Thomas had a high pain tolerance and always wanted it as rough as he could get it. Now that I thought about it, all the brainwashing done to him when he was a teen could’ve made him believe he deserved to be punished. How many times had he been lied to by being told that God would punish him for being gay? Sadly, countless.
When in reality, that was farthest from the truth.
Me leaving behind welts and bites, scrapes and bruises, and everything else he begged me for whenever we had sex, could have fed into that without me even knowing.
When Thomas told me everything he went through during conversion therapy, he said he was told he’d go to hell for being gay. He had also been called depraved, a sinner, and so many other degrading insults and names. The participants promised if he complied, his life would be so much better. He’d be accepted, loved and welcomed into heaven. All he had to do was think and act differently. All he had to do was “change.”
An impossible feat.
They expected him to change into something he wasn’t. A person he’d never be. Instead, he was forced to fake compliance so he could escape the torture.
For shit’s sake, I should’ve recognized all of that, too. Unfortunately, it was one more thing I missed in a list of them.
I was determined to do better when it came to Rett. While I learned from my mistakes with Thomas, I realized I could do more. By being more aware. By being more present. It was the least I could do for someone I cared about.
Rett moving my hand from his lower abdomen to his cock brought me back to the present and the bed. He was hard again, the head slick from precum. I fisted it and began to stroke in time with my thrusts.
“Will you come again?” I whispered against his ear.
“Yes. Please make me come again.”
He began to squirm with every deliberate draw of my cock over his prostate. With every pump of his cock with my fist.
Closing my eyes, I pressed my nose to the back of his neck, sucking in air as quickly as I could. Being one with Rett, I got swept away to a new time, a new place, a new life.
This was home now. This town, this cabin, this man. I had finally found myself after being lost.
I no longer was drowning in guilt.
I had hope.
I had peace.
I had Rett.
My life was now becoming full again after being agonizingly empty for the past two years.
His hips twitched and his cock pulsed as he grunted and I captured the strings of cum in my palm.
Him coming rocketed me right to the peak. I slowed my thrusting, taking him more gently now. Grabbing his hair, I twisted his head to seal his lips with mine.
Then… I tumbled over the edge and went into a free fall.
My own grunt-turned-groan was captured between us as I thrust one more time and came.
When I finally landed, I reluctantly released his mouth but continued to hold him tightly with my cheek pressed to his, both of us simply breathing and sharing a space.
At first, I didn’t want anything to do with him. I wanted him to leave me alone. But now… We fit together more perfectly than I ever expected.
We fit together perfectly. Period.
For once I was the “big spoon” and I wanted that to last as long as possible.
I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to break our connection.
Unfortunately, I would have to.
When he twisted his torso a little more, I caught the soft look in his eyes and his very kissable lips curved into a just as soft smile.
I checked in with him. “Are you good?”
“Definitely.”
Thankfully, I hadn’t hurt him and had done the exact opposite. “Ready for me to pull out?”
He trailed his warm fingers over my cheek, across my lips and then scraped his fingernails along my beard. “No, not yet. Stay.”
“I won’t have a choice soon,” I warned.
“Wait until you have to.”
“I don’t want the condom to spill.”
“I’m not worried if it spills. Like you, I haven’t had sex with anyone except you for at least the last year.”
I already knew that, I did. But to hear it again warmed me from the inside out.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing warming me. Between the two of us, I swore our combined body heat was the same temperature as the sun.
