Chapter 14
Robin stared up at me, his eyes full of expectant defiance. He also looked turned on as fuck, his lips still swollen, his cheeks all pink, his hard dick outlining his suit pants.
What are you waiting for? My body chugged toward yes, even as my logic said “hold up a minute.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. Not when you’re like this—”
“You always want to know what I need. I need this. I need you.” He stood, pulling his shirt off and unbuttoning his pants.
“Okay.” My body won that round but fast, but my mind still had doubts. “But slowly, all right? Maybe we should play more with a toy first?”
“Stop being so nice, Vic. Just stop. Fuck. Me.” He dropped his pants, leaving his clothes in a heap as he strode naked toward my bedroom, giving off a shit-ton of attitude.
“Wait.” I caught his arm at the door to my room. I didn’t have to fake my scowl or the gruffness in my voice. I was pissed that Robin had decided to use me for hate sex, and I was even more pissed at myself that I wasn’t ending this.
“What?” He looked up at me, his voice full of swagger, his eyes full of hurt. That. That was why I wasn’t throwing him out or calling this off. I would cut off my own fingers to spare him pain. Lord knew I’d do whatever he needed—even if it meant hating myself for it later.
“Who’s in charge here?” I glowered at him, the full-on stare down that made idiots like Paul turn tail and run and made Robin hot, but I wasn’t aiming to turn him on just then.
Robin looked like he might be about to protest, then bit his lip. “You are. But I—”
“But nothing. You are going to trust me to give it to you, okay?”
“I don’t want to be coddled.” His rebellious stare demanded action from me.
Anger and lust formed a potent cocktail, racing through my veins, making my steps unsteady. Oh, he’d get action all right, but on my terms.
“Fine. No special treatment.” I dragged him by the arm over to the bed, pushed him onto it, and stood over him. “But we do this my way. I am not going to hurt you. I am not going to let you goad me into hurting you. Understand?”
“Oh, yeah.” He was looking at my mouth. I knew I was frowning mightily down on him, but judging by the sway of his hard dick, that worked for him.
“You can have all the angry, rough sex you want, but you will feel good, understand?”
“I don’t want—”
“To feel good. I get it.” I stroked the hair back from his head. “But you will tell me if it hurts too bad or if you need to stop.”
“Goddamn you. Just do it already.” His whole body shook.
“Fine.” The word shot out of my mouth like a rocket, as nasty as any I’d ever spoken. I shoved him back on the bed, flipped him so that I was pinning him to the mattress. “This what you want?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“No prep? Just go?” I kept my voice hard and mean and leaned into him.
“Yes.” He shoved his ass up at me.
“Sorry. You’re not in charge.” I pushed him back down. “I am. And I’m going to play with you a while. Not because you like it. Or because it will make you feel good. Or because you deserve it. Nope. I’m going to play with your ass because I like it.”
I had never once fucked someone dry and I wasn’t about to start with Robin. I grabbed the lube and a condom from the drawer in my bedside table, set both aside. His whole body was wound tight as a roll of bakery twine. Beneath me, his ass clenched so tight I could bounce quarters off it—yeah, didn’t matter what bravado Robin was spewing forth, he was asking for a serious hurt if I tried to enter him right then, even with lube.
He rolled his head to the side, cursing softly. His mouth twisted, and in that moment, I saw the truth in his eyes. He wanted to fail.
He didn’t want rough sex because that turned him on, because a hard, dirty entry got him going. No, he wanted this because he wanted to fail.
He was asking for something he knew he couldn’t do. Maybe he wanted the pain and the begging and the disappointment and the having to stop because somewhere in his subconscious he thought he deserved to fail. Perhaps he couldn’t or wouldn’t let himself fail by relapsing, so he thought he’d come here and fail at sex again. However, I knew Robin, and behind all that was a deeper need—a need not to have to think, to be so overwhelmed with sensation that whatever else was going on in his head would shut off.
That I could do.
“On your knees.”
My tie still dangled from my collar and I pulled it loose before stripping off my shirt.
“You trust me, right?” Without waiting for an answer, I wrapped the tie around Robin’s head, blindfolding him.
“Oh, yeah.” Robin’s voice sounded breathy and far away. “I’ve never—”
“Me either, but this is what you need, baby.” I kept my voice firm, knowing that what he needed was me in total control, not me asking him if he was all right with it.
“Okay.” Robin’s head fell forward.
I stroked a hand down his back, doing that for several moments until I felt some of his tension ease.
“Only thing you’re going to think about is this.” I traced patterns on his back with my tongue, trying to keep him guessing about where my tongue would land next even though we both knew where it was heading. His skin tasted sweet, like cookies, with a hint of salt and something more primal.
Kneading his shoulders and neck with my hands, I bit him. The contrast in sensations got a long moan from him, and I kept that up—rubbing and biting. His back was going to be a mess of hickeys later, but I couldn’t say I was sorry about that.
“Fuck me.” He pushed his ass back into me, his feet tangling in the covers.
“Oh, I’m just getting warmed up.” I laughed, a low, dirty sound I’d never made before. I shifted so that his ass fucked nothing but air and he had to guess where I was.
“Fuck. You.”
“Not on the agenda. I’m in charge, sweet thing. Only me.” Capturing his mouth in a kiss, I teased him a little more. Moving around again, I kneaded his ass, watched him shiver as he guessed what was coming. I drew it out, rubbing and tugging his ass cheeks, blowing softly on his hole.
“Oh, God, Vic. Do it.”
“When I’m ready.” I gave his ass a light slap. Then, holding his ass open, I ran my tongue up and down the crack, barely skating over his hole until I felt the muscle quiver. I attacked him, licking and sucking and working him with my mouth until I gradually felt his tight hole soften, let me in. His whines were high-pitched, feral sounds as he rocked back onto my face.
My hands shook as I reached for the lube. Even after rimming him until he was incoherent, he was still so tense. I circled his hole with my lubed-up index finger, putting a little pressure on it until he rocked down to meet it.
“Jesus. So tight.”
“Sorry.”
I slapped his ass again. “No apologizing. Feels good. Gonna feel so good on my cock.”
“Yeah.” The bed squeaking, he rocked his hips, fucking himself on my finger. I lined up a second; with all the fooling around we’d done, I’d never given him more than the one finger because he’d tensed up both times I’d tried to go to two, and I hadn’t wanted to hurt him. But this time, with me biting his shoulders and whispering encouragement, he slowly rocked back on both fingers.
“Yes. That’s it, honey. Take it. Take it so good.”
“Ready. Oh, God. So ready.”
I got the condom on and myself slicked up, then positioned myself right at his entrance—
And he immediately went full-body stiff, his shoulders shaking with tension.
My heart squeezed, every bit as tense as his body. I had to resist the urge to tell him we’d stop. No. I wasn’t letting him fail and I wasn’t stopping until he’d proven his inner fears false.
“You can do it.” I used my slick finger to tease his hole again. “I’ve got you. Slow, okay?”
Removing my hand, I tried again with my cock, pressing forward, soothing his back with my free hand, making reassuring noises. He rocked his hips tentatively back.
“That’s it. Just take what you can.” My cockhead finally breached his tight ring of muscles, his ass gripping me like a vice. It was just this side of painful how tight he was. Holding myself still took every ounce of concentration I had, but I did it, my thighs burning, my lower back clenching under the strain of waiting.
It was worth waiting to watch Robin’s spine undulate, his head stretching toward the ceiling as he arched his back, working himself down my cock by millimeters.
“Vic. Oh, God, Vic. Vic.” He whimpered my name over and over as he slid farther back. “I need . . .”
“Yeah, baby. Take whatever you need.” I stroked his neck, his sweat-drenched back, his ass, anywhere I could reach.
“Move. Oh, please, move.” Sweat rolled down his back and he made little grunting noises as I rocked into him. “Oh, God. Like that. Please.”
I thrust more, feeling the tension ebb, the clench of his muscles lessening enough to let me slide back. Slowly, oh so slowly, I built a rhythm. A few times I felt him start to go on edge, but I wrapped an arm around his chest, my hand over his heart, steadying him. Through it all, I kept up a constant stream of praise.
“So good. Can you feel? You’re taking my whole cock now. Doing so good.”
I wrapped my other hand around his waist, searching for his cock, relieved to find him still rock hard.
“More.” He rutted into my fist. “Need more. Harder.”
“Mmm.” A low hum of pleasure escaped my throat as I picked up speed, choosing an angle that nailed his gland over and over.
Body quaking, he let out a series of low moans. His body kept tightening—not like pain, more like he was thinking about coming but backing off each time he got close.
“You feel so good. Just let it go, Robin. Just feel. No thinking.” I held him close to me while I thrust.
“Oh, God, Vic. So close. I want to come. Need to come.” His voice was broken, each word punctuated by a deep shudder.
“You can do it, sweetheart. It’s right there for you.” I sped up my hand on his cock. “Letting me fuck you so nice. Taking it so hard. So fuckin’ perfect.”
“I can’t . . . I can’t . . . I can’t.” His body arched and strained.
“Yes, you can.” I soothed him with words and hands and kisses along the back of his neck. I was trying to hold back myself, but the flutter of his muscles, sucking me back on every upstroke, made my heart pound.
“Oh, Jesus. Vic. I need this. Need you. Go hard. Please.”
I obliged with deep, pounding thrusts that made the bed shake and him cry out. I stroked him faster, trying to get him to tumble over before I did, but I was fast hurtling to the point of no return.
“Vic. Oh. Jesus.”
The broken, ragged sounds coming from his mouth undid me, made me crazy and unhinged. I felt my orgasm start in my toes, build itself up, need rising higher and higher with each thrust, restraint dropping, until I couldn’t hold back any longer. Pounding into him, I came in a furious rush.
“Oh, hell. Sorry.” I dropped kisses all down his spine as I came back to myself.
“It’s okay. Don’t think I can anyway—”
“You can,” I said firmly.
“I don’t need to . . .”
“Shut up,” I told him bluntly as I pulled out. “I’m in charge. I’ll tell you what you need.” I flipped him over so that he was on his back now, with my fingers pressing against his hole, finding their way in much easier now. “And what you need is this.”
I dropped my head and swallowed him deep, pressing against his gland with my fingers, working his head with my tongue. I glanced up; the tie had gotten all twisted up in his hair. His eyes were still squished shut, though, with moisture leaking out the sides. He was building toward something, something bigger than just an orgasm, something that was threatening to rip him to pieces.
And I knew instinctively that that’s what he needed—he needed me to send him soaring, to force him to accept this release, to see him through to the other side. To not give up on him. He bucked against my hand and mouth. His body tensed, like he was about to shoot, then went slack right as I thought he was about to go.
“Come on, baby. You can do it. It’s right there for you.”
“Don’t have to . . . We can stop . . .” Tears were rolling down his cheeks now, but his body kept fucking my hand.
“No one’s stopping. I’m here just as long as you need. Only thing you need to worry about is fucking my mouth. Fuck my fingers too, honey. Make yourself fly.”
I swallowed his cockhead again, using every trick I knew and some I invented, as my tongue worked the sensitive underside of his shaft. Curving my fingers, I pressed up hard on his spot until he howled.
“Unnh. Vic. Fuckfuckfuck. Vic.” Heels digging into the mattress, hands yanking my sheets loose, whole body arching like a bow, he went off, stream after stream filling my mouth. It was too much to swallow in one go—I had to pull back and work him through the rest of it with my hand, but I kept stroking until he was completely still.
My chest pounded like I’d climbed Mount Hood, and I felt that kind of victorious. Stretching out next to him, I took him in my arms. As soon as his head hit my chest, he started shaking like a baby bird. His face was wet with tears and I rubbed him all over.
“Sssh. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“Oh, Vic.” His voice cracked and he trembled in my arms, tears spilling faster. He scrubbed at his eyes. “Crap. I’m sorry. I don’t mean—”
“It’s okay. You’re fine.” I pressed a kiss on the side of his head. “You go on now.”
It seemed like that was it—like his tears had been waiting for permission to fall freely. Sobs wracked his body, and I knew without asking that this was the first he’d cried. Knew it wasn’t about me or the sex—all that was just a conduit, a way for the fountain of grief inside him to find the surface.
My own eyes burned and stung. All I could do was hold him and let him sob it out. Seeing another man weep like this was profoundly humbling; seeing strong, capable Robin reduced to a sobbing mess gutted me. My chest was damp where his face lay and my hand cramped where he was clutching it, but I kept holding on. I held on through his sobs, through his curses, through his sniffles and whimpers as the tears ebbed. Held on tighter as he started to talk.
“Why, Vic? Why? Why doesn’t Zach get a second chance?”
“I don’t know, baby, I really don’t.”
“But I did. Why me?” Robin sat up, scrubbing at his hair.
I had to think on this one; part of me wanted to tell him it was because he was special, because God had other plans for him, because it wasn’t his time. But instead, I went for the truth. “Because you were lucky.”
“I don’t want to be lucky,” he whispered. “It was supposed to be me. I should have died. Me. Not my friend Tim. Not Zach. Me. I should have died.”
“But you didn’t, Robin. And that’s good—”
“There should be a reason, right? A higher purpose why them and not me? And Vic, I’ve spent three years since Tim died, and I still haven’t found the purpose. I’m not good enough.”
“Yes, you are. You’re one of the best people I know.” I pulled the covers up from the foot of the bed, draped them around his shoulders. His skin felt clammy with tears and cooling sweat.
“Tim was the funniest guy I knew. And so good with animals—he could get alley cats to cuddle up with him. And Zach was an amazing musician. I never knew until his mom told me, but he used to write songs on their piano. They should still be here.”
“Yeah, they should.” The sting in my eyes intensified. Manny should still be here. And my dad and Uncle Mauro and everyone else taken too young.
“I thought . . . I thought maybe Zach was my purpose,” he whispered. “I thought if I saved him, if I got him off the streets, that would be a sign that I was on the right path, that I was here for a reason.”
“You are here for reason—you’re here for you.” And me, I silently added. But I knew it would be too much to add that right then. My love for him was a physical ache. I felt each pained breath of his, each tug on his hair, each tear.
“It just sucks.” He punched one of my pillows.
“Yeah, it does.” I took a deep breath—so much emotion coursing through me, it was hard to talk. “It’s never fair. Ever. Manny taught high school. He talked about getting his PhD so he could be a principal. Look at me. I bake things. Manny changed people’s lives.”
“Zach was so young, Vic. So young.”
“I know.”
“It could have been me.” And then he was crying again, softer this time, and I held him tight. He sagged in my arms and I laid him down on the bed, cuddled him against my chest.
After a while he was silent, and I thought he might be sleeping, but his eyes were open while he held on to my arms.
“Sorry.” He caught me staring at him.
“No more sorry.” I brushed his hair out of his face.
“I should probably go.” He didn’t make any move to remove himself from my arms, so I squeezed him tighter.
“No. You can go back to hating me later if you need to, but let me love on you a bit right now.”
I expected an argument, but instead he yawned. “Okay.”