Page 34 of Contingently Yours

The moan he emits as he raises his other arm to clutch his pillow is music to my ears.

Quiet, restrained Lucas, who looks like he never indulges in anything, not even an overabundance of granola bars, looks good fighting not to let go.

Maybe revelations don’t often come from having your finger inside someone else, but this puts something into perspective.

As I tease his cockhead and his gland, I see a guy who always has to have it together.

A guy who needs to be strong for two little sisters and his mom, and probably has for a long time.

He’s the opposite of me in every way. I think I’ve exploited being the weak one in my family for so long that it became comfortable.

Let them think of me what they will. Never try because they don’t expect me to try.

I’m aware I should probably analyze that some other time, but right now, I can’t fix myself.

Lucas doesn’t need fixing in my opinion, but he damn well needs to stop fucking trying for everyone else so much.

He should look like this at least three times a week.

Who the hell can live like he has, silently swallowing every serving of misery I assume he’s been dealt?

“Drew…” he pants, his head thrashing between his arms.

My cock is in pain at this point from being untouched. It’s a welcome agony, though, snuffing out that sickening vulnerability his words in the sunroom exploded in my chest.

“Let go, Lucas. Let go,” I urge, bending down to capture one of his nipples. I have to release him from my grip to brace myself on the mattress. The feel of my cock bumping into his sends a rush of electricity down my legs. To hell with going untouched any longer. I can’t take it.

“Give me your hand,” I demand, even as I reach up and capture his wrist. I bring it between us as I straddle his thigh for a better angle to line us up without having to let up on his ass.

The second I get his palm wrapped around both of us underneath mine, my body jolts from the sensation.

I didn’t know a dick could do that to another dick.

“Shit, that feels good,” I slur over the groan he lets out.

His strokes are timid and shy, even though he sounds like he could go over at any moment. It’s both endearing and frustrating. I realize I told him to do nothing, but I reserve the right to change my mind.

“Show me how you stroke it, sweetheart.”

His gaze flicks to mine, and a hint of rose paints his cheeks. He sputters out a breath, but then looks at our joined hands, jaw clenched. His hand moves down our lengths and picks up fervor.

“Fuck,” he grits, eyes slamming shut, bucking his hips up into our grip as I tag his prostate again and again. “Fuck.”

“I’m going to come all over you and mark you up, and you can’t wash it away this time,” I growl, surprising even myself when his eyes flare open. The damndest thing is that I want it to be true. Badly. Lucas, marked by me.

He keens, his grip going slack, but I can feel his rigidity as my hand slips over the top of his. Body frozen, tense, his cry echoes throughout the room, and he spills over onto my hand.

Fucking hell. I just talked him into an orgasm. Talked him into an orgasm by talking about owning him. And that…just did it for me.

Squeezing us as tightly as I can, my arm is about ready to fall off from working us so hard through my own release.

I don’t know if I’ve violated Terry’s advice about whether I’m prodding, but as I pulse and endure full-body spasms, I keep my finger pressed firmly to that magic button inside Lucas’ warmth, desperate to hold him in this state of euphoria for as long as I can.

His neck is twisted, the cords in it strained from turning his head to bury his face in his pillow.

I’m disappointed he’s muffling the feral noises he’s making, but it’s probably best. My head is so light I think I might pass out if I hear any more of his sounds.

When my cock is spent, I slip my finger out and release him.

Falling onto my elbows, I cage him in with my hands in the air like a surgeon who just scrubbed up.

I’m not used to this many fluids during sex, but I’m not complaining.

It’s just another pleasant wonder. A welcome newness to an activity I thought could never surprise me anymore.

I have half a mind to run my hands all over him and mark him even further.

However, that might require us to leave the bed next.

Lucas isn’t going anywhere if I have any say in it.

Covering his jugular, I suck hard against his labored breaths. I don’t know why. I don’t even like love bites. He tilts his head back as though it’s instinct to yield to my touch. If he does one more thing that makes me want him, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.

Whimpering, he pulls away, so I release him and drop my head to his shoulder to catch my breath. The skin on his neck has a red spot the shape of my mouth that makes me smile.

I did it. I wrecked him. That strange, exposed sensation has been quieted.

As I lie here on top of this living, breathing moment, his warm, satisfied body beneath me, a sliver of dread embeds itself in me. I know he said he thinks there’s good in me, but what happens if I don’t have enough sunshine for him? I really want to have enough.

I think…I like having a fake boyfriend. Fuck me, though, if I know how to keep one.