Page 12 of Requiem Of Him (Of Solace And Sin #1)

LEVI

‘lovely liar’ Stevie Howie

I don’t allow myself to believe I deserve anything good that’s ripe for the taking, but Cortland offers himself up to me time and time again. And for him, I am a weak man.

He hasn’t shied away from me when I’ve given him numerous reasons he should run like hell. No, he keeps digging his heels in and fighting like hell the same way he did when he was riding one of the rankest bulls on the circuit, holding on for eight seconds.

The familiar roughness of his jeans presses against my cheek when I burrow my head in his lap, making myself at home in his warmth.

I nuzzle further into him, seeking as much of him as I can possibly reach from this angle.

His cock twitches as I nudge him gently and inhale his scent.

Cortland always smelled of my favorite things that became synonymous with him each time I caught their scent—black cherries, chocolate and tobacco smoke—but his sweat and musk that were unique to him were beyond comparison.

It was dark and rich, decadent almost, and I was a glutton.

I would never be satisfied with moderation if Cortland was on the menu.

Cortland’s hand settles on the back of my head, applying the slightest pressure until I give in, burying my face in his crotch.

His breathing becomes erratic when I wrap my lips around his dick, mouthing the hard length through his jeans until his head falls back against the couch.

I watch in fascination as his mouth falls open when I press my tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the wet spot he’d already created.

The moment his flavor burst over my taste buds, I knew I would never get enough of him.

A pathetic whine escapes me as I seek out more before I can stop it and I freeze, shame halting my movements, but Cortland stops me from pulling away before I even start, forcing me to take what is given.

I’d never felt shame with any of my previous partners because we either never saw each other again, or we understood each other’s desires, but with Cortland, I worry I will embarrass him or myself by the things I want and he never had a chance to experience.

It makes me wonder if we aren’t compatible, and we are only holding onto old wounds and stolen moments.

I don’t have time to question it before Cortland makes the decision for me. Instead of allowing me to sink further into my head, he pulls me into his lap and grabs my jaw, bringing me so close I can feel each of his next words on my lips.

“Stop hiding from me, baby. I’m sure you could smell what I like doing to boys on Nyx’s skin.

” Rage spikes in my veins, but the pain radiating in my chest is so much worse.

It may as well have been a physical blow to my solar plexus hearing Nyx’s name when Cortland has me like this, in his lap and practically begging for his touch.

I sure as hell don’t want or need the reminder, but I do my best not to let it show.

Looking down at his smug face, I give him a smile he’d seen more times than he’d like before making him a promise I hope he never makes me follow through with. “If you mention another man when you have me in your lap again, we’re done. Got it?”

His brows furrow slightly. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Even as he says the words I want to hear, it doesn’t change how I already feel, whether it’s his fault or not.

In some ways, he wasn’t to blame for the insecurities I had unknowingly fostered over the years, but they were there, and it seemed like they only made themselves known when he was involved.

“If you say so,” I shrug, but the tightness in my chest isn’t going away. “Who you fuck is your business, not mine.”

He rears back as if I’d slapped him, but rather than letting me go, he pulls me impossibly close and whispers in my ear, “When did I ever give you the idea that I’d be fucking anyone other than you, Levi?”

I tremble against him, a deep tremor going through my body at his words. I shake my head, refusing to answer him, and he lets out a low growl, but rather than letting me go, he does something I never thought he would.

As his tongue meets the heated flesh of my neck, I can’t help the moan filling the silence for me, but he doesn't stop until he licks up the side of my face like a fucking freak, and arousal seeps into my briefs. It had taken every bit of restraint I had to not immediately wrap myself around Cortland and use his body like a blowup sex doll when he’d pulled me into his lap, but now he’d given me an invitation.

I drop down into his lap like he’s my favorite saddle, not shy for a second about giving him all of my weight.

I’m not exactly the skin and bones mess I used to be when I was under careful watch of numerous trainers and my father.

I’d packed on as much muscle as my body would allow, but it took time to stop hearing their voices taunting me.

They’d creep back in if I let them, causing more damage every time now that I wasn’t hiding behind a life meant for someone else.

Cortland’s groan pulls me back to the present when he lifts his hip, seeking me out, and I can’t resist grinding my cock against his with a roll of my hips.

The air conditioning kicks on, sending a chill down my spine and causing goosebumps to break out across my overheated flesh as the frigid air bursts the cozy bubble around us.

Another whimper forces its way up my throat while I shiver in his lap and every little movement hits my core, increasing my need for his hands on me by tenfold.

A dark chuckle meets my ears as his arms snake around my waist, preventing me from bucking into him. He doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of our position and flips us, so I’m seated and he’s now between my legs, forcing them apart with his bulk.

It’s been a long time since I let anyone take the reins, controlling the pace, but more importantly, me.

With Cortland, it comes naturally. Outside of the handful of times we’d fooled around, I didn’t defer to him, and I wouldn’t now, but I needed him to take control.

He seemed to always know it and easily stepped into the role even when I didn’t know what it meant, and we never had any formal conversation or means to explore what we could be.

Every stolen moment was rushed and at the time felt more than worth the risk.

But here I am, sinking into it with him without prompting, without any regard for my safety. It’s dangerous and downright reckless.

I could hear my mentor’s, Isaiah, voice like he was standing in the room with us, a look of disappointment evident in his eyes before admonishing my behavior with a single tsk and the use of my name like he hadn’t spent years training me in both roles, dominant and submissive, and the implications of not playing safe.

He’s one of the very few people who I hated knowing I’d disappointed him in some way.

Not that he would show it—it was something I just felt, charging the air around us when we were in a scene.

He always moved on quickly, never harping on anything, but it was hard to keep focus when I knew I had fucked up.

One would think I learned something from the man in the many years I’d been burrowing myself under his wing, but clearly, I hadn’t if this is the situation with Cortland I let myself fall into.

With Cortland firmly between my legs, making himself right at home, I watch and wait for him to make the next move.

Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long, but where his hands are headed brought back the same hesitancy I’d felt a few moments ago.

He pulls back slightly, his hands leaving a scorching trail along my skin where my shirt has ridden up my back and abdomen before settling on my shorts.

His fingers tease at the waistband as though he's asking for permission, which feels strange. Cortland is not a man who uses caution for much—he’s a bully like that—but whatever he saw when he looked at me made him pause, waiting for some indication that I’m ready.

It isn’t as though he isn’t aware. He knows.

I’d let him touch me before, but that was before I’d been on testosterone.

Back then I wasn’t any different, and I knew his track record.

He fucked anything with a pulse to keep up appearances, especially with his father, so I wasn’t nervous and didn’t feel like I had a reason to be when I hadn’t started transitioning.

I had been like any other cis woman he’d fucked, but now as a fully transitioned man who wanted nothing to do with bottom surgery, I felt unsure.

So many questions and doubts swirl in my mind until a pit of anxiety forms in my chest, and I feel like I’m running out of oxygen.

He starts pulling away, and I immediately feel the loss of his hands on me deep in my bones, but he doesn’t deprive me like I feared.

He takes my face in his hands and looks me in the eye for what feels like a lifetime while his thumbs slowly trace over my cheekbones, and I give in to him trying to give me comfort until I feel like I can breathe again.

He repeats the same words he’d said to me before, and the tightness uncoils in my chest, and the rest of my body relaxes as he holds my gaze hostage, refusing to waiver.

“Levi, you have nothing to worry about. Never with me.” When I don’t respond, he shakes me a little and clings to me.

“Do you hear me?” The biting edge to his voice and fierceness in his eyes paired with the almost brutal grip he has on me is almost too much to handle.