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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Cassius

I love lazy Sundays.

Typically, unless there’s an event, Sundays are when Skylar and I both have off. We’ll usually spend it lying on the couch, all snuggled together while we watch one of Skylar’s guilty pleasures.

Western movies.

I have no idea what attracts him to the classic old Western. Maybe it’s the air of drama around it, the simplicity of the plot, the well-executed lines and movements. To me, they’re boring as fuck. But love makes you tolerate a whole lot that you usually wouldn’t.

Hence why I’m here, pretending to be interested in the film, while Skylar lies half-naked on my chest. He’s curled around me. One bare leg is tucked close to his chest, which puts his perfect little cock at the best angle to press against mine. His hand is draped over my neck, and he strokes it every few minutes. My hand securely rests on his ass, giving him tender kneads that make him purr.

It’s a perfect lazy Sunday.

“What was that?” I ask when a knock on our door interrupts the main showdown. I look down at Skylar with a furrowed brow. “Are you expecting anyone?”

He shakes his head in confusion. “No, not that I can remember. I don’t think—” he cuts himself off as his eyes widen. Scrambling off my body, he fumbles so he lands on his ass on the carpet. “Um, I’ll go get that. Yeah, it’s for me. Well, no. I’ll just go see what it is. Be right back!”

He ends with the highest pitch he’s ever let out. Sureeeee . Not suspicious at all. With the couch where it’s at, I’m able to sit up and lean back to watch him approaching the door. He unlocks all the bolts with trembling fingers, and I snap my head forward just as he looks behind his back. I hear some shuffling and a sharp little gasp before he closes the door.

“Skylar?” I question, eyebrows drawn together as he speed walks past me. My eyes narrow in on the discrete package in his hand. “What’s that?—”

“Nothing!” he squeaks as he full-on bolts into his room, slamming the door shut in the process.

Okay. That was a little weird. I try to remind myself that even though Skylar and I are attached at the hip, he does have a right to privacy?—

No, that’s bullshit. There’s no such thing as privacy between us. Not when he’ll walk in on me in the shower or insist on flossing while I shit. There’s never been anything between us, and I’m not about to start now, not when my plan to finally make him see me as more than a friend is working.

I mean, it is working…right?

After the cooking class a few days ago, we’ve been inseparable. Yes, it’s always been like that, but it feels like so much more now. And, yes, we’ve always been touchy with each other, but it’s on a whole new level now. Now our innocent little touches aren’t so innocent anymore. Everything is laced with a whole new layer of sensuality and closeness. The way his fingertips will brush mine like a promise for more. The way a gentle hand on the shoulder is laced with tension. Like the bond between us is so much stronger now that I’ve made him come several times.

There’s another gasp from his room—this one louder and almost shocked—and that’s about all I can take. I rise from the couch quickly and take three long strides until I’m in front of his door. Without knocking, I take a hold of the handle, and my eyes widen when it’s locked.

It’s. Fucking. Locked .

“Skylar,” I say, loud enough that I know he can hear me. “Sunshine, why did you lock the door?”

I’m not a creep. I’m also not a stalker. I’m never overbearing or controlling or anything remotely resembling a psychotic freak. People lock their doors. I get that.

Skylar doesn’t.

Suddenly, my throat is dry. He used to lock his doors. Back when…

With a renewed sense of urgency, I start jiggling the handle. “Sunshine, you have to let me in right now.”

What if he’s in there doing… What if he’s back into that old habit? He’s been happy and healthy, so adamant that… that is behind him. But what if he’s slipping back? What if he’s alone and scared and hurting himself and I’m out here like a damn idiot?

“If you don’t open the door, I’m breaking it in,” I warn him, taking a step back and jumping in place to prepare myself. After a second, he doesn’t answer, and I nod to myself. “Okay. If you’re by the door, move. I’m going to?—”

The door swings open, and Skylar emerges in his fluffy pink robe, eyes rolling in irritation as he waves me away. “Oh! Don’t be so dramatic! I’m fine .”

“Why’d you lock the door?” I ask, somehow keeping my voice steady, even though he scared the living shit out of me.

He rolls his bottom lip into his mouth. “I wanted privacy?”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes people want that?”

“Not us.”

“Cassius,” he says firmly, placing a hand on my chest to hold me back when I try to step into his room. “Leave me alone for a second. I promise I’m fine.”

This would be the point where I accept that. Despite being curious as shit about what he’s up to, I should just walk away. However, my feet don’t seem to want to cooperate. I stay still, staring down at my sunshine, and there must be something in my eyes that clues him in on how desperate I am to know, because he sighs.

“Fine.” He opens his door farther and gestures for me to come in. “If you must.”

“What’s going on? What was that package?” I question as I sit on the edge of his bed. With a wayward thought, my fists clench at my sides and I tighten my jaw. “It wasn’t one of those asshole exes sending you something, was it? Was it Ricky? I swear to God, that prick is?—”

“Stop it.” He giggles, but there’s an edge to his tone that I don’t like. He runs a hand through his hot pink hair. “Um, I ordered something the other day.”

“Okay?”

“And it came in.”

“I figured.”

“And, well, I was just…” he trails off and bites his thumbnail. “I’m going to return it, I think.”

I cock my head. “What is it?”

“I can’t show you,” he rushes out, face incredibly flushed now, almost matching his hair. “It’s?—”

“Don’t you dare say private.”

He huffs and bows his head. Fingers trembling, he reaches for the ties on his robe. With an unsteady breath, he looks up at the last second. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

I nod. There’s nothing he could ever do that would make me laugh at him. Laugh with him, maybe, but everything he does is perfect, so I don’t know what he’s so worried about.

That is, until he unties his robe and lets it fall to the floor with a soft thud.

Oh.

Fuck.

Me.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” he reminds me, planting both hands on his hips to feign confidence. “I know it looks ridiculous, but?—”

“Shut up,” I blurt out, my eyes still wide.

He frowns. “Excuse me. I don’t think that’s very polite?—”

“Sunshine,” I say, standing to my full height as I take him in. “ Politely , then. Shut up.”

He zips his mouth closed but still looks nervous. I don’t think I’m helping the situation because I just keep on staring. It’s like in those stupid kid shows where the cartoon’s jaw drops comically, and their eyes bug out of their sockets. I must be drooling.

Because my best friend is currently sporting the dirtiest, sluttiest, most perfect piece of lingerie.

My hands can’t help but reach out to touch the baby blue, lacy see-through bra to pluck at his tiny nipples. He sucks in a sharp breath as my fingers wander lower to the tight garter around his slim waist. When I reach his delicate hips, I take the strappy thong and snap it against his skin.

“Turn around.”

“Cassius,” he whispers, his voice shaky. “This is ridiculous. Let me just take it off?—”

Something courses through me. It’s not necessarily rage, but an overwhelming sense of urgency. My hand snaps out to encircle his throat. Not too tight. Definitely not tight enough to hurt him, but with enough pressure to get my point across. Skylar likes it because his pupils dilate, and his little cock starts straining against the lace.

“I said, turn the fuck around,” I command, letting go of him so he can follow my instructions.

With a lusty exhale, he nods. He turns slowly, giving me the perfect show, and when he’s facing away from me and my eyes land on his ass, I think I die for a second.

I growl as I surge forward, taking a handful of his tight bubble butt in my hands. He lets out a breathy gasp and whimpers when I pull his cheeks apart. There’s something so insanely erotic at seeing the lacy thong pressed against his hole. Using all my control, I don’t immediately push the fabric aside and fuck myself into him. Somehow, I find my words, but I don’t let go of him.

“Why are you returning this?” I ask through gritted teeth.

The back of his neck flushes as he starts to teeter on each foot. “Um, it doesn’t look good? It’s a bit silly, isn’t it?”

With one hand on his ass, I shove both my shorts and underwear over my ass. My furious cock is already leaking precum as I slot it between his cheeks. I dip down to seize his ear between my teeth and growl, “Does this feel fucking silly to you?”

“Cassy…” He squirms, sinfully pushing his ass back into me. “It’s just… I don’t know.”

Tenderness hits me and tampers my lust…only a bit.

Everyone thinks Skylar is so confident. Everyone believes him to be this untouchable beacon of positivity and light. Some call him extra and “too much,” like there’s nothing beyond the superficial layers he lets people see. He covers it up with sass and laughter, but he’s secretly one of the most insecure people I’ve ever met.

When he fishes for compliments, it’s because he needs to hear them. When he makes a sassy comeback, it’s because someone’s gotten too close to seeing what he hides behind. He’s not just a caricature; he’s a real person.

“You think it looks stupid too,” he says weakly when I go too long without saying anything. “I’ll take it off and return it, and we can pretend this never happened.”

He starts to scratch his arms. It happens when he’s feeling low and unwanted. It happens when he thinks he isn’t good enough. He’ll get in his own head, and it takes everything to bring him back.

Skylar needs people to praise him, to worship him, to adore him. Not because he’s full of it, but because it’s enough of a distraction to make him forget about his past and that’s what people don’t see.

But Skylar also needs something else. Something a bit darker, something a bit more freeing, something that I’m now in charge of giving him.

Skylar needs to be fucked out of his own head.

I take a sharp step back and finish removing my shorts and underwear. I’m ready to give him what he needs. I’m ready to take control and make his mind blissfully blank, so that when he comes back to himself, he’ll do so with a renewed sense of confidence.

“Turn.”

I don’t leave any room for argument in my tone, and Skylar knows this. He turns obediently, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he gulps. There’s a sweet sense of pleading in his mismatched eyes, like he knows what’s going to happen, and needs it to happen fast.

“I love you,” I tell him, reaching out to run my finger down his cheek. “Remember that.”

He nods. “What do I do?”

With the understanding of what’s about to happen, I place my hand on his shoulder and shove him onto the floor. He goes knees-first and instinctively places his hands on my thighs to steady himself.

“Keep your hands right there,” I order, my gut already tightening at the view below me. So fucking perfect. Sexy as hell, tempting?—

And all mine .

He does what I say, swaying a bit as he adjusts himself. His cock pulses in his thong, the glossy tip peeking out in desperation to be acknowledged. I ignore it for now. We’ll get to that later.

Now it’s time to give him what he needs.

“Open your mouth.”

When his jaw drops only a microsecond later, I chuckle cruelly and fist the top of his head. Clicking my tongue at him, I drag him forward until his face is buried in the thatch of hair at the base of my dick.

“What a fucking cock-hungry whore. Look at you, panting against me. Fucking drooling for some dick.”

He nods feverishly, his tongue licking the skin he’s pressed against, fighting my hold so he can reach my cock and prove my words. I yank his head back and force him to look up at me. He’s rutting into the air, his eyes shining with desire as he sticks his tongue out.

He’s so fucking perfect.

“I’m going to fuck your face now and come down your pretty throat,” I tell him, tightening my grip on his hair until he whines. “After that, we’re going online and buying five more of these in every color they offer. Do you know why?”

As well as he can manage, he shakes his head.

“Because I like my slut dressed up for me,” I rasp, my cock already inching to be in that pretty pink mouth. “That’s what you are, isn’t it? Just a slut for me to use. A hole I can fuck until I’m satisfied?”

“ Yes .” Moaning his eyes flutter shut as pleasure vibrates through him. “I’m your slut, Cassius. Make me dirty. Hurt me. Teach me?—”

He’s cut off when my free hand connects with his cheek.

Let me clarify. I’d never hurt my sunshine. But this is the kind of pain he wants. The distracting kind. The kind that makes him feel fulfilled. If a light bitch slap is what he needs, I’ll give it to him any day of the week.

But it’s also entirely selfish, isn’t it? I need this too. It’s for different reasons, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I thrive on control.

And controlling Skylar in bed is becoming my biggest fantasy come to life.

“Don’t close your eyes,” I growl, tugging him forward as I hold my cock right in front of his open mouth. “I want to see your tears.” I lick my lips as I rub my cock against the tip of his tongue, groaning and dropping my head back. “Fuck me. If you need to breathe at any point, pinch my thigh. If not, fucking take it like the whore you are.”

And with that, I make myself a home in my best friend’s mouth.

It’s like heaven feeling him gag around me. One hand reaches down to grasp his cock, but I pull out and hold him at a distance before he can. “What did I say?” I growl and give him another light slap. “Were you supposed to move your fucking hands?”

“N-No,” he stutters, tears already in his eyes as he tries to chase my cock. “Cass, please. Give it to me.”

I click my tongue at him and smack his cheek with my cockhead. “Are you going to listen?”

“Yes, yes,” he cries, nodding diligently as he places his hands back on my thighs. “I’ll be so good for you. Please.”

The way he begs is just so… Fuck. It makes me chuckle darkly as I move my hand to palm the back of his head. “Such a dirty cockslut. You really can’t live without it, can you?”

He shakes his head once again, crying when I don’t give him what he wants.

“Say it, sunshine. Tell me what a whore you are.”

“I’m a w-whore,” he sobs, but the pleasure in his eyes is undeniable. His voice is throaty, desperate, and needy. “I’m such a whore, Cassy. All I need is a fat cock. Please, shut me up. Fuck my throat. Use me.”

I put him out of his misery by shoving my cock back into his mouth. This time, he listens. He doesn’t move his hands as I completely wreck him. I don’t show him any mercy, because that’s not what he wants. He wants to forget, he wants to let go, and he wants to be free. The way he whimpers around my length confirms that. I’m trying to last, I really am, but it’s so goddamn hard.

Because I start thinking about the other men Skylar has been with. Weirdly enough, it doesn’t make me jealous or furious. Instead, I feel… powerful . Almost smug. I don’t have any reason to be angry. Not really. Especially not when I look down at Skylar.

He’s beautiful.

Tears streaming down his face, snot pouring out of his nose, drool seeping from his open mouth. It’s not just the knowledge that I’m fucking him when others aren’t.

It’s the way he looks at me. Like he’s so grateful that I’m doing this for him. Like he’s been missing it this entire time.

Like no one else has ever or will ever be able to give him this.

I said I would hold back, but I can’t. The hot, wet suction of his mouth is driving me wild. The whines and the whimpers are turning me insane. I’m tunneling in and out of him, and it’s what I’ve wanted for years.

“F-Fuck,” I choke out, now using my hands to bob his head on my cock. “Gonna come in this perfect fuckhole, sunshine. Fuck— Yes — Jesus! Fuck! Take all of it, Skylar. Fucking take it!”

Surging forward one last time, I feel myself hit the back of his throat as rope after rope of cum jets out of me. I’m breathless as I let go of him and take a step back, struggling to stay up. I compose myself just long enough to see Skylar desperately shuttling his hand on his cock. His mouth is still open, tongue still panting with the remains of my cum. He’s wild and lost, in such a daze, he doesn’t even realize he’s grinding on the floor as he fucks himself.

I stagger back and sit on the bed, just watching as his tiny body curls in on itself. He comes with a broken sob, cum spurting out of him and landing on the hardwood floor. He sags, holding himself up with trembling arms, but I’m not done yet.

“Skylar?”

“ Nghhh .”

“Sunshine, look at me.”

He’s groggy as he lifts his head, his jaw slack with a smile. “ Ughhh .”

“I know. I know you’re tired,” I say gently. Raising my eyebrows, I point at the floor. “But whores clean up their messes.”

It doesn’t even take him a second to bend down and lick one long stripe of his cum off the floor. I thank myself for being so diligent about cleaning because this is too hot to not watch. His pink tongue flicks out and he moans as he swipes the floor clean. As soon as he’s done, his shaking arms reach for me, and I lean down to pick him up and set him on my lap. The minute he’s settled, he bursts into tears, but I’m not worried. I know that must have been a lot for him, so I just hold him through it.

“My perfect princess did such a good job,” I praise, petting the back of his head as I sway us side-to-side. “Such a good job. That’s it. Let it out. I’m right here.”

Nodding, he holds on to me like an anchor as he continues to weep. We sit like that for almost an hour with me praising the fuck out of him until his sobs subside. Once he’s more settled, I pull his head back so I can wipe away his tears and kiss him soundly.

I pour all my love and devotion into the kiss. Pour every ounce of me into the embrace. Show my dedication and loyalty with the way I flick my tongue gently against his.

“Fuck me,” he whispers against my lips. “Cassius. I need you to fuck me.”

I suck in a sharp breath. While I’d love that…it’s not the right time. I shake my head slowly and fall back until we’re both lying on the bed. “Just sleep.”

“Cassius,” he whines, already trying to reach for my hardening cock. “I need you inside me.”

I stop his wrist and shake my head again. “No. Go to sleep, sunshine.”

He goes to protest, but then yawns, and I laugh as he rolls his eyes.

“See, I wore you out.”

“Your cock did,” he clarifies, yawning again as he snuggles into my chest. “Jesus, Cass. You’re packing a monster dick. I can’t wait to feel it splitting me open.”

He talks as if this isn’t temporary. Like fucking is a natural progression to what we’ve been doing. I mean, it is. I want to fuck him more than I want to breathe, but it’s more than that. I don’t just want a dirty, quick fuck where I degrade him. I want to… Jesus Christ, I want to make love to him. When I slide into him for the first time, I want it to be because he can recognize my feelings for him.

Because he’s realized that I’m the one .

So, until then, I’ll settle for this.

Little by little.

Because he’s worth the wait.