“What if she ever wants me to leave?”
“She won’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
He squeezes our cocks and it takes everything I have to keep my eyes open. “Because she’s my good girl and she’s in love with both of us. Best of both worlds for her.”
I finally have to ask it before it burns a hole in me and starts to rot whatever this is from the inside out. “Why didn’t you tell me you married her? Why didn’t you tell me you guys were sleeping together?”
His expression softens and he releases our cocks. Leaning in, he kisses me again. “Because she was worried it’d hurt your feelings. When I told her my idea, she loved it. She didn’t know if she fell for you over me if you would have been open to this in the reverse.”
He teases me by lowering his mouth close to mine, pulling back before making contact. He does it several times until I realize I’m lifting my head to meet him for the kiss he still withholds.
The smile returns to his lips. “And because I’m kind of a bastard, as you yourself noted.” He lowers his lips to just over mine. “I always get what I want.” His tongue flicks out, tracing my lips. “I wanted you.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
With Carter staring down into my eyes, I’m not going to deny how nervous I feel with a weekend alone looming ahead of us.
No Susa between me and Carter as a buffer between us, or as an excuse for me.
No way for me to try to deny what’s going on.
I’ll be forced to face this head-on, instead of being able to lie to myself.
I’m going to be alone with Carter.
I realize I’m not opposed to the idea, either.
This confuses me on a number of levels, but then again, most things about this whole situation confuse me.
That means I’ll do what I’ve done to survive throughout most of my life and go along with everything. If I really get to hating this, and what we’re doing, then I can always…leave.
But the thought of that, of leaving Susa—and, yeah, okay, leaving Carter, too—fills me with something akin to dread. Like some weird inverse, and yet still negative feeling, of the foreboding that flooded me at the thought of having to return to my mother’s home at the end of every semester.
Besides, if I leave, who will take care of Carter if Susa isn’t around? Who will Susa have to own?
Who will soothe Carter’s nightmares if she’s not there?
Who will take care of Susa?
I realize I don’t want to leave. Not even when I know that the price I pay for staying is belonging to Carter. Because let’s be honest—I’ve always belonged to Carter, not Susa. Carter lets Susa play with me, but he’s in control of both of us.
Didn’t say I minded.
I’m just still trying to figure it all out.
Does this make me gay? Bi? Not that it matters, I suppose. I’m not going to be dating anyone anytime soon.
I’m not going to be dating, period. It doesn’t even surprise me to realize I don’t mind that, either. Not like I’m lacking for love and affection now. From that first day in the dorm, Carter basically adopted me. Adding Susa made what we have perfect.
Weren’t we already a family even before this development? Other than the time Susa went to Tallahassee for my birthday weekend, or the evening Carter and I went to Mom’s for dinner, I literally cannot remember the last time we weren’t together for at least part of the day.
Dinners together.
Studying together.
Time off together.
We’re blessed by the scholarships Carter and I have, and Susa’s blessed by her trust fund. Otherwise, we’d all be scrabbling to find time to sleep, much less curl up on the couch together to watch TV, because we’d all be working one or two jobs to pay our bills.
With Carter’s body stretched out over mine again I try to breathe, to relax. It’s difficult with my cock screaming for attention, though.
Carter starts kissing his way down my jaw, my throat, pauses to nip and suck my nipples. I had no clue before all this how sensitive they were.
It’s obvious where his eventual destination is, and he takes his time to tease me even more. His warm breath washes over the tip of my cock, but he doesn’t lick or kiss it yet.
“Watch me, Owen,” he says. “Eyes open.”
I grab a pillow and pull it under my head so I can do just that.
He works down my cock to the root, just breathing on it. Fuck, I’m so damn hard it’s literally painful.
Back up, his lips so close to the tip of my cock.
“Ask me,” he whispers, breath once again blowing over the head of my cock. “I know you want it.”
“Please, Sir,” I beg. I’m pretty good at begging now.
He smiles. “Please, what?”
“Please suck my cock, Sir.”
“Ahh, good boy.” He presses a tender kiss to the head and his lips feel scorchingly hot against my tender flesh. “For tonight, it’s Owen and Carter.” He slowly licks up the frenulum, making me moan. A sexy smile curves his lips. “But I still want to hear you beg me for it.”
I…beg.
Shamelessly, repetitively—loudly.
Desperately.
I beg and moan, and as he gives me literally the best blow job of my life—not that I’d had many to compare it to before now—I realize there are plenty of up-sides to this arrangement.
Point the first—Carter’s oral skills. He’s damn sure better than Susa, who I thought was amazing, but I expect he has plans to improve her talents there.
He pulls noises out of me I didn’t even know I could make as he slowly teases me. Even when I reach down and grab his head and start trying to fuck his mouth, he resists my efforts to rush.
I’m so horny I’m nearly in tears. “Please make me come,” I beg. “I’ll do anything.”
That smile.
Ohhhh, I’m soooo fucked.
That smile of his screams victory. He knows how horny I am. He knows how badly I need relief.
“I’m going to spend all weekend making you come, Owen,” he promises between licks and sucks. “By the end of this weekend, the only regret you’re going to have is that I didn’t seduce you the first night we met.”
His gaze meets mine again. “I’m not going to lie and say there won’t be plenty of times you hate my guts, because you will. As you yourself noted, I’m a bastard extraordinaire. But I will promise you that for every one of those times, there will be countless times just…like…this.” Between each of the last three words, he lightly swirls his tongue around the head of my cock.
Considering I’ve had more orgasms over the past couple of weeks than I think I’ve had during the rest of my life combined, I’m not exactly unhappy about that.
Point the second—for the first time in my life, I truly feel loved.
Like I’m not an inconvenience.
I feel…
Wanted.
Even before all this other stuff developed.
Which leads me to point the third—after the initial shock of all this wears off, I have to admit I am, overall, happier than I can ever remember feeling in my life.
I miss Susa, sure, but I know I’m not going to be alone or feel lonely this weekend.
Hell, if Carter gives me more than five waking minutes where he isn’t climbing all over me or we’re studying, I’ll be shocked.
Again, didn’t say I minded.
Could I have stopped all this, said fuck this shit, and walked away?
Yeah, but why? Why would I?
He is stubble and muscles and pure need.
I need Him.
I need this, all of it.
I need the bite, the edge, the sweet, hot pain.
I need to be owned.
Loved.
I need Him, and I’d be lying if I said otherwise.
He goes deep and sucks, triggering my orgasm—and yes, he swallows. My hips buck and I fuck his mouth as pleasure spirals throu
gh me. This is unbelievable.
This is the kind of pleasure I never realized existed before.
This is the kind of happiness I never thought was within my grasp.
This is everything I thought I wanted swept away by the reality of what I have.
I have them—Him.
Carter crawls back up the bed and draws me into his arms. It’s the only place I want to be right now.
“What about you?” I ask.
“What about me?”
My turn to smirk at him. “You said you wanted to fuck me in about twenty different positions before the chicken finished cooking.”
“Then I guess we’d better get started.” He laces his fingers behind his head and smiles up at me.
I know what he wants. As weird as it sounds, one thing I’ve been reluctant to do is ride him. I feel self-conscious when Susa’s there. I know once I’ve done it a few times it’ll be like every other step of this journey and become no big deal. But the first time he was going to have me do it, he seemed to sense my hesitation and made it look like he’d changed his mind and wanted me on my back. At the time, I thought maybe it was just a coincidence.
But as he smiles up at me, I’m certain now that it wasn’t.
“Bastard,” I playfully mutter as I reach for the nightstand, where we keep condoms and lube on hand in the drawer there. That first time he fucked me, he did it bare. Later, he admitted it was because he wanted to mark me like that. Usually, he uses condoms with me or Susa when he fucks our asses, as a matter of logistics.
When I belatedly realized I wasn’t using condoms with Susa, they calmed me by telling me she’s on the pill.
“Bastard extraordinaire,” he reminds me as I grab a condom pouch and the lube.
“Got that right.”
I sheathe him and use plenty of lube, because that’s for my benefit. He finally moves his hands, skimming them down my thighs as I straddle him. His gaze on me nearly has physical weight and substance, intense, and I pause.
He wants me.
This isn’t just a game to him, or fun, or even sex.
He’s never pushed me away.
Maybe he can be a bastard, but truth be told, that’s one of his charms.
The more we do this, the more I realize that when he looks at me like that, it’s pure hunger in his gaze.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Not a damn thing.”
Fuck my mother, fuck what people think, fuck everyone.
I never wanted to live my life in a miserable closet, pretending I was someone I’m not.
I never counted on Carter and Susa. It also means I only need to pretend some of the time. When I’m alone with them, I can be exactly who I am, and it’s all they expect me to be.
I don’t have to pretend for them or around them.
His hands glide up, over my abs, back down to my cock which, of course, is already twitching again with renewed interest.
I suppose there will be a day when we’re not going after each other every time we turn around, but today is not that day.
Leaning in, I kiss him and love the feel of his hand tangling in my hair and holding me in place. I reach behind me and find his cock, taking my time as I savor the kiss and line things up. When I press back, he swallows every groan I make, adding a few of his own to the mix. His fingers dig into my head while the sharp intake of breath from him tells me he’s mine in this moment.
Not Susa’s—mine.
This moment seems to freeze as we kiss. Meanwhile, I cage his head with my hands braced on the bed and slowly take him in.
“Fuck yeah, baby,” he breathes against me. “Fuck me.”
Somewhere in my head and heart, everything got mixed up and turned around and perfection fell into my lap. He gave me what I never really knew I needed, much less thought I could even have in the first place.
He took away what I thought I needed in my life and showed me the truth behind the lies.
Taking my time, I ride him slowly, wanting this to last. “Number one,” I joke as I sit up.
His fingers clamp around my hips as he arches up into me, his gaze sharp and piercing. “I think I like this position the most,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because I can look up and watch you.” He plays with my cock before his hand returns to my hip. “And that.” He smiles.
He lets me ride him like this for a few minutes, until my cock completely recovers and is ready for more.
That’s apparently the key point for him. He gives me a squeeze, then urges me up and off him, spooning me against him for position number two. On our sides, he can kiss me while he fucks me and strokes my cock for me.
We only make it as far as number six, with me on my back and my ankles over his shoulder as he plows me, when he gasps. “I can’t hold it any longer.” He finishes, buried inside me, his forehead resting on mine for a moment as he catches his breath. “Stay,” he says.
I’m a good boy, so I do.
He gets out of bed and I hear him cleaning up in the bathroom. I haven’t come yet, but that’s not up to me anymore.
When he returns, he grabs another condom from the drawer and is smiling down at me when he straddles me. As he rips the pouch open and rolls it down me, it finally dawns on me what’s going to happen.
I smile. “This can be number seven. I say it still counts.”
He takes his time, his gaze never leaving me as he slowly sinks my cock inside him. He’s tight, and hot, and I’m not going to last long at this rate.
“Hands over your head,” he says.
I comply, already close to coming.
He reaches down and pins my wrists with one hand and cups my face with the other when he leans in to kiss me.
Mental vapor lock kicks in. Pure pleasure, need, hunger engulf me.
Carter nibbles on my lower lip. “Give it to me.”
We find a rhythm. Before long, I’m cresting and falling, unable to keep my eyes open as my cock throbs inside him and fills the condom.
His lips slant over mine, nibbling, exploring. “How’s that?”
“Thank you, Sir. Much better.”
He chuckles. “Let’s see if you’re still feeling like that by the time Susa gets back.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
We end up wearing each other out before the chicken is finished cooking. He helps me clean up the kitchen after we eat. Both of us sleep great, and the next morning when I check my phone, I have a deposit alert.
Mom hasn’t cut me off yet.
I don’t know what Carter’s been saying to my mom, but the allowances continue to appear in my bank account despite my reduced texting schedule.
Whatever he’s saying is working, so I don’t rock the boat. I follow his orders and let him tell me what to do in terms of dealing with her. Then again, after what I’ve found out about her, part of me is hoping for a chance to confront her.
When I wake up Saturday morning, Carter is spooned along my back, his arm and a leg draped over me, the warmth of his skin against mine an addictive sensation.
Skin hunger. It is a thing—I looked it up. It sadly helps explain why, even early on, I responded so well to Carter’s attention. One of the reasons, another being, obviously, that I was an unowned and adrift submissive and Carter was the perfect Master to draw me in and draw me out of my shell.
I pull his arm a little tighter around me, hoping I don’t wake him up.
I don’t understand why I’m not panicked, why I’m not frantic, why there aren’t a million thoughts and recriminations racing through my brain at this moment.
Before all this, I couldn’t enjoy simply lying in bed and slowly waking up on a weekend morning, because my brain pecked at me, hard and painfully.
It shocks me to realize that’s not been happening anymore.
Sure, there are still thoughts in my head, but they’re calmer, more rational.
Wondering what’s up Carter’s sleeve.
/>
Wondering what Susa and I will do today. Well, not today, but in general, you get the idea.
Thinking about my upcoming tests.
Reminding myself to do laundry.
It wasn’t uncommon, before, for the top three or five thoughts out of ten to include something about my mom.
“You’re thinking too loudly, boy,” Carter rasps as he nuzzles his mouth against the nape of my neck and kisses me there.
I’m surprised he’s awake. “What do you mean, Sir?”
“You tense up. Your whole body. Your breathing gets fast and shallow.” He feathers his lips across the nape of my neck and a delicious shiver races through me. “When you’re relaxed, your body is relaxed, and you breathe more deeply.”
I turn so I can look him in the eyes. This man truly knows me better than I know myself. I don’t know why that surprises me after all these months, but it does.
“How do you do that?” I ask.
He smiles, but it’s sleepy. “If I tell you, will you promise to relax so we can keep cuddling, and let me go back to sleep for a little while?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He closes his eyes and snuggles against me again, his face now pressed against my shoulder. “I pay attention to you, boy. That’s how. You were raised by a narcissist you always had to pay attention to, which taught you to pay attention to everyone else. You never learned how to pay attention to yourself.”
I lie there, wide awake now as I ponder that, while Carter, the bastard, drifts back to sleep.
Sonofabitch.
He’s absolutely right.
* * * *
The next weekend, we’re all together again. While I’m expecting Carter’s really going to put me through my paces when we’re not moving stuff from the dorm, he does something Friday afternoon after we’re all home that catches me off-guard—he orders the two of us to get dressed in shorts and be ready to go in five minutes.
Susa and I don’t have time to argue or question the order. She looks as confused as I feel, so I know asking her for info won’t prove fruitful. We get into Susa’s car, with me driving and Carter riding shotgun. He gives me directions as I drive. Twenty minutes later, we’re pulling into the parking lot of an upscale shopping center in New Tampa.
Governor (Governor Trilogy 1) Page 29
