Cutting Cords (Cutting Cords Series Book 1)

by Mickie B. Ashling

  His heartfelt apology worked and Juliana dropped the contentious attitude. She moved into his space and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing tightly against his naked body. “Don’t you know how much I love you?”

  “Do you? Nothing will be the same once I’m blind.”

  “I’ll take good care of you.”

  He pushed her away with a sigh. Pulling on his boxers, he went back to bed and covered his eyes with his forearm, hoping she’d disappear.

  “Cole?”

  He wished he could say the words, tell her to leave him alone, but he couldn’t do it. Lowering his arm, he asked, “What do you want?”

  “For you to believe I’ll be here for you. There’s no need to be afraid because you’ll never be alone.”

  “That’s just it,” Cole said, sitting up and giving her his full attention. “I don’t want you to nurse me for the rest of my life.”

  “But there’s only so much you’ll be able to do. I can pick up the slack.”

  “Dr. Butterman disagrees. He says I can have a perfectly normal life, in other words, fend for myself, if I’m willing to learn certain things.”

  “Like what?” she asked dubiously.

  “I have to learn Braille, for one thing. Seriously consider owning a guide dog, for another. Teach, after I get my master’s. Learn how to take public transportation, four. Have a vasectomy, five.”

  “Why on earth would you mention a vasectomy? We both want children.”

  “I don’t,” Cole said, adding. ”Let me clarify. I’d love to have a child but only if it doesn’t have my warped gene.”

  “We can have genetic testing.”

  “And you’d be willing to have an abortion if necessary?”

  “If it’s what you want, I guess I would.”

  “Juliana, listen to me. This is a life-altering decision, one we’d both have to agree upon and live with. Can you handle an abortion, because I don’t think I can?”

  Bemused, she replied, “Sure. If the baby will eventually go blind. I don’t want it to happen anymore than you do.”

  Cole raked through his hair.

  “You’re obviously stressing over this, sweetheart, and if agreeing to an abortion will help you overcome this final hurdle so we can get married, then I’ll do it. Besides, it won’t be necessary.”

  “Don’t agree with me to keep the peace,” Cole seethed. As the rest of her words sank in, he wondered, “How do you know the baby will be okay?”

  “I’m very healthy.”

  Confounded by her lack of understanding, Cole shook his head and muttered, “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Why?”

  “Haven’t you absorbed anything I’ve told you about retinitis pigmentosa? It doesn’t matter how healthy you are. I’m the one with the problem.”

  “Are you angry?”

  “A little”

  “But I’ve agreed to all your demands.”

  “I’m trying to work out what’s best for us and you’re not helping.”

  “You don’t love me anymore,” Juliana accused.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks and Cole felt sick. He had no idea why he was treating her like an enemy rather than someone he cared for. Seeing her so broken up moved him to say, “I do love you, Juliana, but we don’t seem to be on the same page anymore.”

  She began to cry in earnest and Cole reached for her, holding her in his arms while she wept. “Please don’t cry,” he said softly. “We’ll talk again in the next few days, try to figure this out.”

  “Then what?” she asked shakily.

  “Get engaged,” Cole said, making a snap decision. “Our parents will be overjoyed and you’ll be caught up in parties and planning. Life will go back to normal and everyone will be happy.”

  She smiled through her tears. “Will you?”

  “Of course.” He felt better already. Indecision was making him crazy, and he had to move forward instead of wallowing in this sea of doubt and self-pity. “We’ll get it right, okay, babe?”

  “Okay. Do you want me to stay tonight?”

  “Yes,” Cole agreed. He waited for her to strip off her clothes again, and when she was done, he moved to make room for her, taking her in his arms and holding her tightly. He wanted to make this work; he vowed to put Sloan out of his mind and concentrate on a future with Juliana. He owed it to her and his parents.

  Max’s apartment was straight out of Architectural Digest. It was a loft, close to his studio, decorated in black, white, and red. One entire wall had a collage of his photographs, each one more amazing than the next, and I paced in front of them, trying to see if I could make out any familiar faces. There were movie stars, TV personalities, sports figures, and some people I didn’t recognize, which wasn’t surprising considering I was almost half his age. I kept moving down the length of the wall until I stopped in front of a picture that made my hair stand on end.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Queen?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You were a stranger.”

  “I asked if you liked them.”

  “And I said yes, didn’t I?”

  “You could have mentioned a personal connection with the band.”

  “My clients are my clients, Sloan. I don’t advertise, nor do I discuss who’s on my wall.”

  “What the fuck, Max. Do you have any idea how much I love them?”

  He laughed and said, “I do now. Do you like the original band or the reboot with Adam Lambert?”

  “Both.”

  He nodded. “Me too.”

  “Maybe I can meet them someday?”

  “We’ll see.”

  At the bar, Max poured drinks into heavy crystal goblets. They probably cost more than my entire monthly allowance. He seemed to enjoy all the finer things in life, which made me wonder again why he’d chosen me. I was inexperienced and would require a lot of training. Not to mention all my other issues. Did he have an ulterior motive I was too stupid to figure out?

  “To your future,” he purred, taking sips of his drink while skewering me with his gaze.

  “Why am I here?” I asked nervously.

  “Because I want you.”

  “What can you possibly see in me that you can’t get anywhere else?”

  “If you’re looking for validation, you’ve come to the right place. I usually see beyond the obvious and have the talent to superimpose my vision on the actual. Your eyes, for example. They remind me of a Michelangelo angel in their beauty and innocence, but there are underlying depths of pain and suffering that appeal to my darker side. I can enhance the dichotomy by means of lighting and proper lenses so designers and their agents will get into a bidding war for a piece of the action.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” I croaked, taken aback and at a complete loss for words.

  “Not at all,” he said, reaching for my hand and placing it on his erection. “The proof is right here.”

  I was drawn by his words and obvious attraction, plus, I was young and had a healthy libido. The weight between my legs sealed the deal.

  “Get on your knees,” I commanded, shocking myself. I should have been the one to suck him off, but I needed to see him humbled for some reason. If I was going to settle for someone other than Cole, I wanted it to be on my terms.

  He smiled wickedly and kissed me, sweeping the inside of my mouth with a forceful tongue. He tasted like whiskey, and when we broke apart, he labeled me in no uncertain terms. “You’re a brat, but I’ll concede and give you what you want for now. Next time, you’ll do as you’re told.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I pushed forcefully on his shoulders until he was on his knees, then lowered my zipper and released my cock, which bobbed obscenely in front of his face. I was oozing precum and he licked up and down my shaft like he would a Popsicle.

  I shut my eyes and savored his masterful technique. Max managed to take me in deep, almost to the root, and I was impressed. Most people stopped halfway, but he seemed to get off o
n my size, moaning and humming while he twirled his tongue around my shaft in maddening circles. He stuck the tip of his tongue into my slit and fucked me gently. My knees were about to give out on me, but I managed to lock them in place and let his throat muscles enveloped me. He grabbed handfuls of my ass and pulled me back and forth, allowing my cock to go deeper each time. The man had zero gag reflex, much to my delight, and I fucked into his mouth remorselessly. It was a stellar blowjob and undeniably one of the best I’d ever had.

  “Coming, Max.” I huffed, my balls tightening and my orgasm seconds away. It was offered as a courtesy, but he ignored me and sucked twice as hard. I shot ropes of cum down his throat, moaning his name as I convulsed.

  He managed to garble my name, despite the mouthful, and I sank down on the floor and gently pushed him away. He let go of my cock with a soft pop and turned his attention to my mouth, nibbling on my lower lip. I could taste myself, as well as the booze and Max’s unique flavor. It was all new, and I figured I’d better get used to it since he didn’t seem too eager to part with me.

  I reached down and felt him straining against his pants, the wet spot clear evidence of his need. I pulled him toward a closed door. He followed silently so I assumed I was heading in the right direction.

  “Leave the lights off,” I whispered as we started to undress. He was amazingly calm, considering he was on the verge of blowing his load. I was the one who was shaky, convinced he’d argue and insist on spotlights. I didn’t want him to see my scars and ruin the mood.

  “This time,” he conceded in his take-charge voice. He directed my hand toward his cock, which was long and thick. I fondled him until beads of moisture oozed through his slit, making him nice and slippery as my thumb did small circles around the rosy knob. Impatiently, he pushed my hand away. “I must have you, Sloan. Has anyone ever penetrated you before?”

  Somehow he knew I was a newbie. Despite my cocky attitude, he knew—which kind of sucked.

  “Twice.”

  “When was the last time?” he asked, grabbing the bottle of lube and slicking my asshole as he fired off his questions.

  “Umm, several nights ago.” I gasped when I felt his fingers stretching and curling inside me, tapping my prostate and turning me into a wobbly mess. My arms automatically wrapped themselves around his waist for support, and I pressed my face against his neck and quivered in anticipation.

  “And before then?” he demanded.

  “Three years ago.”

  “Ooh… you’re practically a virgin. Come on, Beauty.” We stood at the foot of an enormous four-poster bed. It could have easily slept four grown men and was high enough off the floor to require a little step stool. There were chains and cuffs dangling off the wooden poles.

  “Care to explain?” I asked, pointing at the stuff I’d only seen in pornos.

  “I’m about to show you.”

  Chapter 20

  Max helped me up on the bed, and I landed on cotton sheets as soft as marshmallows against my skin. He was a good kisser, his style of lovemaking very much like his photography, precise and nearly perfect. There was a part of me that could observe this coldly, as if I were a filmmaker watching actors going through their scripted moves. I had hoped to forget Cole while lying in Max’s arms, to obliterate my obsession and move forward with my life, but despite my enthusiasm and Max’s experience, something was missing.

  Sensing my inner conflict, Max redoubled his efforts. To be fair, it wasn’t all bad. He was playing me like a guitar and I was enjoying every strum of his sexy melody, but it was purely physical. My romantic nature, the integral part of me that had been searching for love since I hit puberty was screaming in protest. This wasn’t right, I kept telling myself. It was Cole I wanted.

  Deep in my heart, I knew he cared. His father’s prejudice was deeply ingrained in his psyche, and expecting him to admit he was gay at this early stage was unrealistic. I wanted to hear the words because I was so damned needy, but actions spoke louder, and I should have been content. Now that I’d been offered a taste, I wasn’t going to settle for Max long term, no matter how good a lover he was.

  In the meantime, I made an effort to enjoy every bit of my interlude with this fascinating man, who was getting ready to put his tongue where no one had ever gone before. I’d read about rimming and imagined eating out someone’s ass, or having it done to me, but there had never been anyone I cared to try it with. Random hookups didn’t merit the special attention. I would have done it to Cole, but the one night of sex we had after his subway accident was more about comfort than exploration.

  I gasped when Max’s warm tongue explored the soft skin between my balls and asshole. Blood rushed to my cock despite the earlier blowjob. Compared to what was happening right now, it seemed like an appetizer. Spreading my legs apart to give Max better access, I whimpered and squirmed with pleasure.

  “Look at me, Sloan,” he demanded, lifting his head for a moment.

  I lifted up on my elbows and stared into dark eyes glittering with purpose. His lips were swollen and shiny with saliva and god only knows what else. I should have been revolted, but I was more turned on than ever before.

  “Do you want me?”

  I wrapped my fingers around my engorged cock and pumped until drops of precum slid down the length. “Does this look like I might be having second thoughts?”

  Max knocked my hand out of the way and sucked me down his throat to the hilt. His nose was pressed against my pubes, and he was humming the whole time. Cradling his face, I pushed him away gently, not wanting to come in his mouth again.

  “As much as I’m enjoying your spectacular blowjob, I want you to fuck me now.”

  “May I tie you up?”

  I’d read about this but, again, never experienced it. I found myself intrigued by the notion and my cock twitched in approval. “Yes, please.”

  “Good boy.” He positioned me so I was spread eagle and attached soft leather cuffs to my wrists and ankles. “Does this feel too tight?”

  “No.”

  He nodded approvingly. Suddenly the idea of being completely at his mercy was intensely erotic. Kinky sex was high on my bucket list and trying it with a man I trusted—new friendship notwithstanding—was a huge benefit. My life was literally in Max’s hands, and for some reason, I wasn’t afraid.

  Darkness surrounded us, the only bit of illumination spilling in from the bathroom vanity, which Max had left on, enabling him to see what he was doing. For the moment, I could bank my fear of being revealed as a cutter. I knew he’d find out eventually, but it wouldn’t be this night, and I could enjoy the wild ride while it lasted.

  “How do you feel about pain, my darling?”

  The question caught me by surprise. My life was filled with pain, mostly self-inflicted. “What do you mean?”

  “Have you ever felt the sting of a flogger?”

  “No.”

  “Would you like to try it?”

  “What does it look like?”

  Max practically jumped off the bed and opened up a large wooden bureau on the opposite side of the room. I was too far away to see what was in it, but he came back to bed with a short stick wrapped in leather, with lengths of suede dangling off the end. He brushed it gently against my torso, down my stomach, and then swirled it around my groin. My cock was responding nicely to the sensation.

  “If that’s a flogger, I like it.”

  “This is one variation, but it’s not meant to tickle, dear boy. It’s designed to hurt.”

  “How?”

  I watched him raise his hand and lower the flogger on my legs. My body jumped in response. There was a whisper of pain, but one I could certainly handle. I also didn’t expect my body to practically hum with the blow. My cock was pressing hard against my stomach.

  “More.”

  “You are fucking beautiful,” Max said softly. His smile was radiant when he heard my plea.

  He struck me several more times, on different parts of my legs, and
each blow stirred something inside I didn’t know existed. Max must have reached the end of his control because he tossed the flogger aside and rolled on a condom. He slicked up and thrust home in one expert move. I gasped when he nudged my gland and he cried out in triumph. My muscles squeezed his prick in their velvety vice and Max paused for a nanosecond, hovering over me, pinning me down with an expression on his face I couldn’t read. “You are perfect for me, darling.”

  I knew better, but disagreeing at the height of our fuckfest wasn’t in my best interest. Instead, I raised my hips and begged, “Please, Max.”

  Energized, he picked up his rhythm again, pushing in and out at a steady pace. Changing angle slightly, he poked my prostate with the tip of his cock while I twisted like a kite in a storm. Max’s total control was wildly exciting. The binding on my wrists and legs heightening my feelings of complete and utter surrender. He was in charge of my body and I was loving every second. Pleasure turned into pain when he squeezed the base of my cock to prevent me from coming. I begged him to let go, but all he did was laugh maniacally. I cussed and thrashed, clearly on the brink of insanity, when he took pity on me, loosened his tight grip, and ordered me to come. A splash of warm cum painted Max’s chest and neck even as he shuddered through his own orgasm. He collapsed on top of me, but not before he rewarded me with a deep kiss.

  “You’re such a good boy.” He sighed with deep satisfaction, resting his head on my chest. “I think you’ve found your true calling.”

  “What are you talking about?” I had no clue what was running through his devious mind. I was wrung out and depleted of every drop of fluid in my body.

  We lay like that for several more minutes until he pulled away and untied the cuffs. He massaged my wrists and ankles to make sure the blood was circulating properly before he headed toward the bathroom. I was too exhausted to move. When he returned, he had a warm washcloth and thoughtfully wiped off my torso.

  “What in the hell just happened?” I whispered.

  “You got a sample of my loving brand.”

  “Whoa.”