by Rowan Shaw
"It'll be fine," he said in my ear. "Relax and breathe deeply. It's just a ride, and I'm here. I'll protect you."
I closed my eyes and nodded. I so did not want to be here. Patrick wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me tight as we waited for more people to join. When the ride was half-full, the fairground entertainer's voice blasted over the speakerphones, and my heart nearly stopped beating. I tried to breathe, but the adrenaline was crushing my lungs, making my entire body shudder with goosebumps.
"Just a ride," Patrick repeated in my ear before kissing my temple. "Relax."
The nineties Eurodance music was loud when the ride began to catch speed and rise slowly. I closed my eyes, feeling like a damn idiot and yet unable to control myself. I couldn't watch. My fear of heights took over, chasing away all rationality. I knew on some subconscious level I wasn't going to die—probably—but it sure felt like I might.
Patrick tightened his arm around my shoulders and said something in my ear I couldn't understand over the loud song and the entertainer's voice pouring out of the speakers.
"Hope you're ready to scream," she said.
I wanted to scream all right. I wanted to scream and beg to go down, but the ride wouldn't stop. I pulled on the bar again to make sure it was locked. With each rotation of the seat, I slid and fell into Patrick, worried my weight might crush him. He never complained but tightened his grip on my shoulders instead.
The nightmare felt like it might never end, but at some point, the platform finally lowered, losing speed. I opened my eyes at last to look around me. We were still fairly high, but the lump in my throat was finally descending, allowing me to breathe normally. When the machine stopped and the bar went up, my legs could barely carry me. I didn't feel well. My head was spinning.
"Are you okay?" Patrick asked with genuine concern. "I didn't realize your fear was that bad."
I didn't give him time to finish before I pushed him away and elbowed my way through the crowd leaving the ride, barely making it to the side of the attraction before puking my guts out. As if it wasn't humiliating enough to have all those strangers staring at me, Patrick reached my side and caressed my back while I vomited. I didn't want him to see this. I felt disgusting. My stomach heaved a couple more times before it finally emptied. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and didn't dare look at him as I stood straight, slowly drowning in shame.
"Are you feeling better?"
I shook my head. My legs still felt like Jell-O, and I was so mad at myself.
"Let's go," he said softly. "This was my fault. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," I said, still refusing to look at him.
"I shouldn't have forced you."
I gave a shrug.
"May I take you to my place?" he asked.
I gave a noncommittal nod. My answer didn't seem to satisfy him. He grabbed my chin between two fingers.
"Brandon, look at me."
The worry filling his gaze triggered emotions I'd tried to repress. It dawned on me right then that I was falling in love with him. I'd been falling for him since that first night. I'd tried to deny it, but the more time I spent with him, the stronger my infatuation got. I had lost all control over the way he made me feel. He was so caring, so gentle.
"Let's go to my place," he repeated, caressing my face, his deep concern never leaving his eyes. "We don't need to do anything. I just...I'm not ready to say goodnight yet."
I gave a nod and let him take me to his car.
"What about my vehicle?" I asked.
"You can leave it here. I'll drive you back here later."
I didn't have the strength to say "no." I was still feeling dizzy.
Patrick drove us through the streets of Nancy. His clock indicated ten P.M. It was dark out, the gray and white façades of the buildings illuminated by the street lights. There wasn't much traffic at this hour, though some people were still out on the terraces of the cafés drinking alcohol or eating a late meal.
When we arrived at his street, I recognized the area right away. He parked by the curb and got out, almost running to my side for a chance to open my door. I stepped out and followed him in the cold, long corridor of his building. There was no elevator, just the stairs, but he only lived two levels up.
He pointed at the bathroom as soon as we entered his foyer. "Let's brush our teeth. I can tell you're uncomfortable."
I followed him into the tiny space. Everything here was white, except for the walls that were painted a dark marine blue. Patrick bent down to rifle through the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a brand new toothbrush for me. He grabbed the tube of toothpaste and squeezed a line out. Then he began brushing his teeth as if this wasn't one of the most intimate things we could possibly do besides having sex. He looked at me through the reflection in his mirror and spat in the sink, cupping his hands under the faucet to catch some water and rinse his mouth. When he was done, I did the same before he handed me a clean towel to dry off.
Before I could get out, he held my arm and moved closer. "Would you let me kiss you right now? I've been waiting all evening. You can say 'no,' and—"
I cut him off by pressing my lips against his. He didn't wait to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me to him hard as he grazed my lips open with the tip of his tongue. His fresh peppermint breath filled my mouth before his tongue took over, exploring and caressing mine softly. His kiss turned ravenous with each stroke as he hardened against my thigh.
"I want you," he panted desperately against my lips. "I've been trying so hard to hold back and respect your boundaries, but this is torture. I can't stop thinking about that night. I think about you all the time."
I slid my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and drew him into me, kissing him with all the thirst I'd been unable to quench.
"I want you to do me," I exhaled against his mouth. "And I want you to do me now."
Within seconds, he had his hands under my thighs to lift me up against him. I wrapped my legs around his lower back and let him carry me to his room. Kissing me with fierce longing, he pushed the door open with his foot, turned on the light with his elbow, and pressed my body against the wall, his lips only leaving my mouth to explore the curves of my neck and throat.
"I want you so damn much," he said, his erection poking against mine.
Chapter 30
BRANDON
After another deep kiss, Patrick pushed me toward his bed. I fell onto his comforter, my eyes on him as he crawled on top and hovered over me, coming back for more, his lips firm, demanding. His velvety tongue pushed inside my mouth, interlacing with mine. His cologne made my head spin with fierce need as our kiss turned hectic, filled with repressed hunger. I cupped his cheeks as he tongued my mouth until I couldn't breathe. I was starving, waiting for him to feed me at last. It had been too long since his last touch. I wanted to be filled by him.
He pulled away but only to take off my sweater in such haste, I thought he might split the seams before he unbuttoned my shirt so expertly. I watched as he dropped to his knees and undid my pants, soon kissing me over my briefs. My dick twitched under the feel of his mouth, begging to be freed, begging for release. But Patrick loved to tease. I knew that all too well. He would drive me nuts before giving what my body was screaming for.
He spread my legs and licked the inside of my thighs. He had barely stroked me, but the simplest caress made me nearly topple over the cliff, my desire intensifying to the verge of ejaculation. All the frustration I'd felt from denying myself the pleasure of his touch built up as if to punish me. And God, did I want to erupt in his mouth already.
"Tsk tsk," he scolded, his lips stroking my briefs, so close to my shaft, I bucked my hips toward his face. "Someone is needy. You don't get to come until I say so."
The sultry tone of his voice made me close my eyes. God help me. I wanted him inside now, but he wouldn't give me what I needed until I begged.
Patrick curled his fingers under the rim of my underwear
and pulled it down, slowly liberating me. Pre-cum was already pearling at the tip of my dick, my arousal making him smirk as he looked into my eyes and licked his lips suggestively before lowering himself and swallowing me whole without an effort. I jerked back from the sensation, but he grabbed my ass to keep me in place while lifting it up so my back was arched. He ran the tip of his tongue over my crown and bobbed his head, his warm mouth encircling me tightly.
I tilted my head back as his fingers dug into my skin, his tongue twirling around my length before he pulled back, leaving me wanting, so hard I let out a small whimper. My overwhelming need to come left me helpless.
I begged him to release me and grasped the headboard when he resumed his torturous play, licking me before going for my balls. He sucked on them and pulled just enough that I let out a desperate moan. Grinning wickedly, he glanced at me and slid two fingers inside his mouth, thrusting them in and out, his gaze on fire. It was so damn hot, more precum pooled out of my tip.
"Please, Patrick, I can't hol—ah."
Without a warning, he pushed a finger inside me, the intrusion taking my breath away. He pushed deeper while licking my balls, then teasing my taint before swallowing me whole. I couldn't hold back anymore. His lips tightened around my dick, then released before squeezing again, mimicking the orgasmic muscular grasps of penetration. I let myself go.
I grabbed the top of his head to hold him in place, fisting his soft hair as I rode the strongest orgasm I'd ever felt during a blow job. I came in his mouth, and he swallowed it all. When my body gave one last jolt of convulsion, Patrick stilled but kept playing his tongue over my cock. My crown was so sensitive, my shaft jerked in his mouth as I gasped from the pain.
A smile rose on his face when he pulled away and moved over me to drag me into a hot kiss, the taste of my cum mixing with the peppermint flavor of his lips. I was feeling woozy, completely high on him, unwilling to fly back down. Somewhere in my daze, I registered that he was still fully dressed, and I proceeded to take off his clothes. He raised his arms above his head to help me pull off his black turtleneck and long-sleeve shirt before he stood and undid his pants himself, dropping his boxer briefs to his feet.
I couldn't stop staring. Patrick's entire body was gorgeously sculpted but not overly muscular. Uncut and standing, his hard dick was long, but not too thick. I wanted him in my mouth, in my ass, anywhere I could take him. I began to kneel, but he grabbed my chin between two fingers, raising my head toward him.
"Non, mon chou." He shook his head and pushed me back down on the bed. "Roll around."
I did as he said, my softening dick pressing against the comforter of his bed as he moved over me and pushed his cock against the crack of my ass. His body lay over mine without crushing me, his skin hot and soft against my back. His mouth found the crook of my neck, his kisses, licks, and soft bites casting shivers down my spine as his shaft slid up and down my crack with each rocking movement of his hips.
"How much do you want it?" he panted in my ear.
"I want it."
"How much?"
"Please, I need you inside."
"Tsk tsk, you didn't answer my question."
"I want you inside. Please. So bad," I croaked, feeling myself harden so shortly after my release.
He smiled against my neck and pulled away, his warmth giving way to a sudden, intense cold that nearly made me panic. But a quick look over my shoulder proved he was only sheathing himself and lubing up. My heart raced when he came back to me and licked my earlobe, shooting chills all over my skin.
"I want you to scream my name when you come."
I nodded. I was so desperate, I would have done anything he asked. Anything for him to fill my core.
Pressed against my back, he guided himself to my entrance and pushed inside, just the tip at first. I gasped and bit the pillow to stifle the cry of pain.
"Nuh uh, I want to hear it all," he teased against my neck as he pushed further in.
"Mon Dieu."
"There is no god here, mon lapin. There is just you, me, and my cock inside you. But I'll make you glimpse heaven soon enough, don't worry."
With that, he gave one deep thrust that tore a shout out of my mouth, and he stopped to let me adjust to his length and girth. My nerves were on fire, screaming for him to bring my torment to an end.
"Relax," he ordered in a sweet murmur against the lobe of my ear. "Let it go."
I closed my eyes and let myself feel all the sensations when he began to slide in and out slowly until the pain subsided, giving way to pleasure. He never failed to locate my prostate. His every motion brought me closer to the intense pleasure I knew was coming. Everything else stilled around us. It was just him, me, and the strong delight warming me, radiating through every part of my body.
"I'm gonna make you come hands-free. If I see you touch yourself, I'll stop and you won't find your release. Understand?"
The command in his voice made my dick throb against the soft fabric of his comforter. His movement pushed me harder against the material, my cock rubbing against his bed. When my body began to tense and shiver out of control, Patrick pulled back, sitting on his knees and dragging me to him. His arm wrapped around my chest, holding me firmly against him, my back to his front, my legs on either side of his while he ran his tongue along my neck and nibbled on the shell of my ear.
"Move when you feel comfortable," he panted against me, setting my skin ablaze.
I was so near the edge, I could feel the orgasm coming when I descended upon him, the wave rising, ready to take me on a surge so strong, my entire body might break as I reached the shore. In this sitting position, Patrick was filling me so completely, I could feel every inch of him. He was in to his hilt. I couldn't stifle the moans cutting out of my throat as I leaned back against his chest and moved slowly, taking him in and out. I wanted to jerk off so badly, but when I lowered my hand, he grabbed my wrist.
"What did I say?"
"Hands-free," I croaked as he rolled his hips against me to plunge in deeper.
"That's right. Hands-free."
"I need to. Please."
He shut me up by grabbing my jaw between two fingers and drawing me into a sideways kiss. I closed my eyes and relaxed further into him, sliding up and down his shaft until it rubbed against my prostate one last time and pushed me over. I shouted in his mouth as cum came out, spurting all over his bed. The orgasm hit me so hard, stars exploded in front of my eyes, my mind whirling from the forceful climax.
"Patrick," I let out desperately.
"Louder."
"Patrick!" It was like the orgasm was never-ending as he never stopped pounding inside me. The waves kept coming, and I kept releasing all over his comforter. His growl in my ear undid me completely when he followed me down the ride and came, groaning in my ear. His soft nuzzles against my neck contrasted with how hard he was taking me. When he was done, he wrapped both his arms around my stomach, no longer moving, and kissed the angle of my jaw.
"I'm gonna spend the night inside you," he whispered.
A chill danced down my spine under his sweet murmur.
I could barely catch my breath long enough to reply. He pulled me into a kiss, tender and affectionate, before pressing his temple against mine.
"Let's go have a snack. I can't keep going without some kind of fuel."
He unlocked his arms from around my waist to let me go. My body was still shaking so hard, I could barely stand to my feet when I got off the bed.
"You okay?" he asked and removed his condom.
"I came all over your comforter."
"I can see that. Don't worry about it." He grabbed a tissue from his nightstand table and cleaned off my mess. "I'll give it a wash tomorrow. This isn't the only time you're gonna jizz on my bed tonight."
His words made me dizzy. He grabbed my wrist when I went for my pants, and he shook his head. "Don't bother."
He yanked a condom from the box on his nightstand table and jerked his chin toward
the door before leading the way to his kitchen without a word. He had drained me of all my energy. I had no idea how he could even consider another way to fuck me already. I couldn't remember why I'd even denied him for so long. It was my loss, but I'd learned my lesson well. I wasn't going to make that mistake again. Not if these were the kinds of euphoric nights awaiting me.
Chapter 31
PATRICK
A loud "Fuck!" escaped my mouth when I woke up the next day at one P.M. to the ringing of my phone. Brandon opened one lazy eye. His arm, wrapped around my chest, dropped to my stomach when I sat up to grab my phone. He rubbed his eyelids and yawned, then turned on his side to look at me.
"Salut," I yapped after pressing on the FaceTime icon.
"T'es où?" Enzo asked out loud while signing at the same time his face appeared on my screen.
"I am so sorry," I signed back. "I..."
Brandon's yawn grew much louder this time.
Enzo creased his forehead and pursed his lips. "Let me guess. You're with someone."
"I totally forgot we were supposed to meet. I am so sorry."
He'd texted me yesterday morning to arrange lunch with him and Jean-François. But spending the night with Brandon had made me lose track of time.
"Jean-François and I have been waiting for thirty minutes, just so you know. The waiter is being rude, and I don't feel like sticking around to deal with his attitude."
"Can you give me about forty-five minutes?"
"The restaurant closes at two," he signed, clearly upset.
"How about you two have lunch without me, and I'll meet you somewhere else?"
"I don't see that we have a choice. The waiter will tear our heads off if we don't order something soon."
"Where are you?"
"Rue Saint-Catherine," he signed before telling me the name of the restaurant.
"Eh ben, mon coco, tu te refuses rien," I joked. The meals there averaged seventy euros per menu per person.
"You're the one who picked the restaurant..." he reminded me unhappily.
