Page 47

Story: Master of Pain

10

DANTE

Ihave to carry Ethan from the couch to the bedroom upstairs in the middle of the night so we can both sleep comfortably. I can’t help but stare at him as he lays in the bed, naked and so incredibly fucking hot. His neck and shoulders are covered in hickeys and bite marks that I put on him.

He’s mine now. Regardless of what happens now, that isn’t going to change. That much I know. It can’t change.

I feel an almost overwhelming sense of fear at the idea of losing him as I fall asleep next to him.

Some hours later I wake up to the feeling of wetness along my neck and a slight sting on the surface of my skin.

I pull my heavy eyes open and start to process what’s happening.

“Ethan,” I mumble. “What are you…?”

Before I can get the rest of my words out, he shushes me.

“If you won’t go to the hospital, at least let me clean your wounds,” Ethan insists. He dabs a warm washcloth along the cuts on my neck.

“It’s nothing. I’ve had way worse,” I tell him. Still, I let my eyes close and don’t object more than that.

“I can see that,” he says. I feel the fingers of his other hand drag along the scars on my back and side. I shiver and slide my hand onto his naked thigh from behind.

It’s quiet for a few moments. I look toward the windows. The curtains keep the light out, but I can still tell that the sun hasn’t risen yet.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” Ethan finally asks.

My brows furrow. “What?”

“That I’m yours.” He pulls the washcloth away and I roll over to face him, my lower half still under the covers.

“Yes,” I say, looking into his eyes in the dim light.

He stares back at me. I see uncertainty in his eyes…and fear. He hangs the damp cloth over the headboard and slides back down so that he’s lying across from me. There are just a few inches separating us.

“We barely know each other,” he reminds me.

“So tell me about yourself.” I scoot closer and slide my hand from his thigh to his hip, and then wrap my arm around him, tugging him closer.

Ethan’s breath catches in his throat as his hands plant themselves on my bare chest.

“This is so new. I don’t know where to start.” Ethan’s voice is shaky.

My eyes trail down to his lips, his neck, and back up. He’s trembling and his eyes are shiny.

“You’re scared,” I whisper. “What are you scared of?”

Ethan’s throat bobs as he swallows. “Everything.” His fingers curl against my chest. The feeling of his nails against my skin makes me bite my lip. “What this means…about me. Who you are, your family. What my family will think.”

I tighten my hold on him and bring my face closer, leaning my forehead against his.

“What does it mean about you?” I ask. I know, but I need him to say it.

Ethan’s lips quiver. “T-That…I’m gay.”

I press my lips to his shaky ones once, then twice. “Fuck what anyone else thinks. How does it feel when I kiss you?”

I kiss him again, dragging out it this time, and slide my hand slowly up his back.