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“Make sure it’s enough to drown your balls, Franky,” I panted. “Just like in the sketch.”
“Ughhh!” he shouted, neck snapping back as he violently bridged into me one last time, nearly cleaving me in half, holding me down on the weapon he called a cock as his cum shot into me.
My own dick jerked without direction, painting us white. “Fuck, Franky,” I breathed as my cum flew between us.
Our cocks twitched and eventually sputtered to a stop as I continued to grind on him. I ran my hand through the puddle of cum on my stomach, feeding it to Franky and sitting patiently as he held my wrist so he could suck every finger clean, even getting around my cuticles.
“What are we doing here, Leland?” he asked through a shredded voice, sinking a possessive hand into the wet hair at my nape. The rough touch felt like a stacked claim, like ownership. Like an answer to his question. Those feelings were too dangerous to have.
“I was hoping you knew,” I said.
Franky’s eyes went from confused to angry again, and a hand cracked against my ass cheek hard enough to send me forward, screaming out from the jarring pain. Only his hold on my hair kept me steady, and I struggled to read the sudden change in him. Struggled to comprehend what had brought about uncompromising and unfeeling Franky. It was his version of a wall, I told myself, because I knew him that much.
“You know what I want,” he said in a monotone voice.
I popped off his cock, hissing from the vast emptiness left behind, then crawled onto the coffee table, assuming the position. I almost lost my balance when Franky knelt behind me and yanked me onto his face, eating my ass like it wasn’t connected to my body. Like he didn’t need to be careful or caring at all.
Even in this he could do no wrong, because while I enjoyed it when he touched me like I was more precious than all the stars in the sky, Ilovedwhen he treated my body like a soul didn’t exist within it. Like my heart wasn’t included.
I stared at my sublime reflection in the glass wall, mouth parted to release shallow breaths, eyes brimming with moisture as my cock thickened, filling to the brim with blood.
Franky and I were driving nowhere fast, and at some point, we were going to crash and burn. It scared the shit out of me, but not enough for me to smash on the brakes. Not enough to make me stop.
Once done, Franky hauled me up and off the table by my throat, the scent of sweet musk sighing over my lips as he spoke dangerously close to me. “Why do I need you again after just having you?”
“The feeling is mutual,” I whimpered, trembling through my need for him. Franky screwed his eyes shut, his frustration tickled my skin, the ache in his heart reached for the ache in mine. When he opened his eyes again they were blank. He’d won the battle in the fight for distance.Lucky him.
“You’re going to tell me no,” he said, voice chilling. “And I’m going to take you anyway. Do you hear me?”
“Fuck. Yes. Loud and clear.”
“Do you want me?” he asked, testing me.
“No.”
“Do you want my cock, right now, Leland?”
I peered down at his intimidating dick covered in drying cum. “No,” I said adamantly, backing away only to be ensnared by him again.
“Too bad.”
Franky fucked me across the cold, hard floor like we were nothing more than strangers, and I’d lost count of how many times he’d interrupted my sleep to demand I hand over my body.
Each time he fucked me, the foreboding sense that things were coming to an end grew like weeds in the pit of my stomach, expanding until every corner of me had been touched and poisoned by it. Yet I didn’t want him to stop, and after each time, I prayed there would be another. Another chance for me to say no, another chance for him to use my body anyway. And as the sensation grew, so did my hunger for him, until my mind and my body were at an impasse, both wanting different things and refusing to bend. My body would win, though, because that was where my heart resided, and my body would always follow my heart.
He didn’t say a word to me, only took and expected me to accept it. I’d died and gone to sexual nirvana.
As the next thirty nights passed, we grew closer in a way we didn’t know how to prevent. It mostly went unacknowledged, by either of us, and I often wondered if Franky had his own mantra, similar to mine, that he chanted daily inside his head.
We were locked away from the rest of civilization here on the ocean, and without any outside interruption—aside from the stress of what waited for us out in the world—it was easy to pretend we’d never have to actually face it. Too easy. And the more we fucked, which turned out to be always, the more blinded I became to the line separating our friendship from our friends-with-benefits-ship.
Franklin Kincaid was highly flawed, uncivilized, possessive, and entitled when it came to me and my body, but he was also good, and I’d go down fighting anyone who believed differently.
I wasn’t the only one forgetting about the promises he didn’t make and the regrets he assured me he’d have. Forgetting wouldn’t make the inevitable go away, though. Forgetting would only make us kick ourselves harder when the end finally hit us in the face, because we’d tell ourselves we should’ve known better, we’d ask ourselves:how could I have been so stupid?
We’d make love during the day, or something similar to it, something not as soft, because we weren’t the tender types. Not when chasing orgasms and inner demons.
At night, though... At night our fucking became a history lesson in decadent violence as it became clear with the setting of the sun that we’d used up another day. Time moved way too fast for us.
