Page 40 of Bruised

Is that normal? Maybe not, but even if it’s not normal, it feels too good to stop it. I can’t stop it until I’ve fucked him, right? No way. We both want it too much to stop. I just have to be more careful, I guess.

I was close to kissing him last night, and kissing him would be taking it too far. I don’t kiss. Not on the mouth. Lane had his own rules when we first got started—like the clothes—but those, I was quick to override. I can’t override mine.

No kissing. No annoying boyfriend shit. Just fucking.

If I stay on top of those things, this will work out well.

Yeah. Super easy.

I don’t… like him. That would be ridiculous. He’s cute, yeah, but I wouldn’t want to fuck him if he wasn’t, right? I barely know anything about him. I just know his body. I just know what staring into his eyes feels like. I just know what it’s like to have him blush and moan so sweetly when I make him come.

I barely know what he looks like when he smiles, though. When he laughs. When his eyes glitter with joy. I’ve seen glimpses of it when he’s with Oliver, but he’s never been like that with me.

I groan and turn onto my side. I’m doing it again: thinking about him. Thinking about fucking him is okay, though, and with my overactive libido, steering my thoughts into sex is an easy task.

I reach a hand between my legs to palm my dick, imagining what it will feel like to sink it into his ass, just like I’ve pushed my fingers inside him. I’ve thought about it countless times while I jerk off—what he’ll look like, what he’ll sound like—so what’s one more? I roll onto my back with a grunt and fist my cock.

It won’t be long now until I get to experience it in real life. Last night was two. Tonight is three. Then I’ll fuck him. I’ve held out long enough, and so has he.

The soft tapping of his feet in the hallway reaches my ears. I was on the verge of falling asleep, but his presence wakes me right up.

When he opens my door, he’s dressed as always in a black oversized T-shirt, black boxer briefs, and his collar. He’s always shy at first, a little sullen, as if I’m forcing him to come here against his will. This is what he wants most, though, and he knows it.

I have him naked in my bed soon enough. This time on his stomach, like the first time I fingered him, but on his hands and knees this time.

I blanket his body with mine for a moment to whisper into his ear, “Know what’s coming tonight, puppy?”

Lane turns his head and gazes back at me, looking a little startled. “A-Are you going to…”

I tsk and shake my head. “I know you want the real thing, but you won’t get it just yet.”

“Then… three?”

“That’s right.”

He sighs in relief, letting out a little whimper.

“You think you can take it?” I ask.

He nods. “I can. I will.”

I smile at how verbal he is. He usually keeps to one-word sentences when he’s in my room—whether it’s because of overwhelm or embarrassment, I can’t tell. Maybe both.

I stand on my knees and put a hand on his lower back. “Legs spread, puppy. Just like that. Now arch your back.”

Soon enough, I have him face down on the mattress with his ass up, back arched in a tight, beautiful line. He turns his face sideways and gazes up at me, cheeks flushed.

I squirt some lube over his hole and spread it around his rim. One finger slides inside easily. At two, his hole offers a little more resistance, but soon, he opens up to me, and he sinks into my touch, almost fucking himself on my fingers. I watch him with great attention and great pleasure, feeling his ass pulse just once as his embarrassment catches up with his arousal, and he looks away.

He can handle two fingers no problem, but at three his hole clamps down, struggling to let me inside.

“Relax now, puppy.” I stroke his lower back in a soothing motion. “Gotta stretch you out so you can take my cock later.”

“Wh-When?” he gasps.

“When, what?”

“When do I get your… your…”