Page 11 of Unfaithfully Yours

“Oh, God , you're touching yourself,” he gasped like he couldn't believe it and I nodded, pulling back to kiss his tip, taking only a second to stroke myself for a moment before putting the attention all back on him, on his incredible body.

I slid my hands up his hips, luxuriating in the fact that I was touching him and then held him down.

This time, when I closed my lips around him and swallowed him down, tongue dragging down his length and touching his tight balls, he could barely contain himself, moaning and gasping like he was actually about to break apart, like he was barely holding himself together.

“Ryan,” he groaned, one last desperate syllable before he started to come.

I held him steady while he convulsed, his body jerking up, cock spilling into my throat and onto my tongue.

It may have been a minute since I'd sucked dick, but there was no way in hell I was wasting any of it.

I swallowed it down, every drop, not releasing his cock until it was softening in my mouth, completely spent.

Slowly, I drew back, releasing him with an appreciative sigh.

I glanced up, meeting his gaze.

He was laid back on the couch, limbs loose as spaghetti, lips parted for air, watching me like he didn't recognize me with eyes that were glassy with unshed tears.

My heart sank.

“What is it?” I asked in a tremulous whisper.

I was still crouched between his knees, palms resting on his bare thighs. His cock was still wet from my saliva, and I knew he already regretted it.

“It's just been a while... since someone touchedme,” he said in a small voice, “and I—I didn't think anyone ever would aside from, you know, my wife ...”

He reached up, suddenly covering his face and taking a shuddering breath.

My hands were shaking, so I finally pulled them off of him, sitting back so that I wasn't so fucking close to what I had just done, but it turned out that pulling away hurt .

“I'm fucking married. What the hell am I doing?” he demanded.

I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting to happen next, but this clearly wasn’t it because I didn’t know how to take it.

He was the one who had come to me.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you showed up here,” I said.

He pulled his hands away, meeting my gaze and to my surprise, instead of anger, it was like I'd shaken him back to reality.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Ryan. I'm sorry. I—I'm just freaking out, okay? This isn't easy. It isn't about you.”

I snorted defensively, pain and anger welling inside me.

“It kind of is, Kamran,” I said, biting my lip, unable to look him in the eye.

Kamran groaned and bent forward, pulling his pants back up his hips. Then he sat there for ages before I finally chanced a glance up.

He looked completely despondent. Like he was a million miles away and didn't know what to do next. My heart went to him, but at the same time, I couldn't help feeling used.

“I dragged my best friend into my divorce,” he whispered finally. “I'm a fucking tool.”

I swallowed. I wished my heart hadn't leaped at his words, but it had and was sitting securely in my throat right now, cutting off my air.

“Divorce?” I asked slowly.

He shrugged.

“I guess so, right?” he asked, and he looked at me as though I was the one who should tell him what to do next.

I’d promised him I would too. When we’d left the bar the other night I’d promised to help him figure out the next steps. But how was I supposed to tell him to leave her in good conscience? How, when it was for selfish reasons?

Ollie and David's belief that Kamran would do what I told him rang in my ears, so I kept my lips firmly shut until I couldn't any longer.

“That's for you to decide,” I finally said firmly.

I hoped it went without saying that if he was practically begging me to hook up with him while still married that probably meant something…

For a long time, we watched each other, then Kamran turned his gaze down to the floor and I knew we were done here.

“I should go,” he said.

My eyes flew shut. It was some sort of defense mechanism, I guessed, to block out what I didn't want to face.

“Sure. Whatever,” I said.

I was so fucking mad suddenly. I didn't think I could ever look at him again. I probably wouldn't. Not anymore. That was it now. Eight years of friendship and the person I was closest to in the world, gone, just like that. All my fears were coming true.

With that thought, my anger deflated. Sadness times a million doused the weak sputtering embers of anger like a flood.

“I'm sorry,” Kamran said, but he was standing up, moving around the room. I heard him grab his keys. I couldn't look. I just stayed where I was, face turned away, still sitting on the floor, pants still hanging open, pathetic and unable to look at Kamran's retreating back.

He opened the front door, but it took a while for it to close. I imagined that he was standing there watching me, maybe wanting to say something else. Goodbye , my mind supplied and that thought undid me.

Tears suddenly slipped down my cheeks and a moment later, the door shut.

I crumpled like a paper bag.

Tears soaked the carpet.

Why had I been so stupid?

I'd known that Kamran couldn't really want this, that he was confused and lonely. Why hadn't I been stronger? Why hadn’t I said no?

If I couldn't have him as my everything, I at least wanted him as my friend. And now, even that was gone.