I suck air in.
“Do you like this?”
With his finger still buried in me, he kneels in front of me, spreads my legs a little wider, and begins to lick me. I’m trembling and panting in one heartbeat. Clutching at his shoulders. Hansel. “Oh God.” Hansel—yes!
What’s his name he uses now? My head spins. All I can think is ‘Hansel.’ His stage name reminds me of Edgar Allen Poe.
He starts to add a second finger to his onslaught, and I cry, “Raven.”
His fingers still, and I’m surprised to hear his smoky laughter as he raises his head. “You think my name is Raven?”
I peek my eyes open. Oh no. “I’m sorry. I forgot…I guess.”
He slides his fingers in and out of me, teasing, even as he looks puzzled. “Why did you try out to be my sub?”
“I was…curious.”
His eyes are still wide. “How have you never been fucked?”
“I’ve been fucked. But it’s been a while. A long while,” I admit.
He seems to accept that answer, leaning back down and licking me up and down, pumping his fingers into me, stretching as his tongue strokes my core. He runs his tongue up my wet, swollen slit and laps around my clit.
“It was a good idea you had, for pain,” he says against the inside of my thigh. “You’re so tight that it would probably hurt you, too.”
“I don’t mind,” I pant as he teases his tongue against my core. “A-at least I…don’t think so,” I gasp.
He kisses the inside of my thighs, looking up at me with assessing hazel eyes, and I’m tossed back.
*
Ten Years Ago
The marvelous seconds that I first beheld the boy I love are gone too soon. He’s on his knees, his head hanging, his hands held out. Blood drips down them, staining the green rug. His eyes rise up to mine, and those I know. I’ve seen this look before, after he returns from those times he leaves his room. I’ve seen his eyes look blank before, but never quite like this.
I hesitate only a moment before flying across the room. I don’t care what happened, or whose blood it is. I just know I need to hold him.
Hansel.
My Hansel.
I sink down in front of him and wrap him in my arms. My hand goes to his nape, but I don’t have to press. He drops his face onto my shoulder instantly, giving me all his weight. It feels so good to touch him. At first, I’m too overwhelmed to speak as we cling to each other.
“Hansel—are you hurt?”
He shakes his head. “It’s…not mine.”
His voice is thick. His face presses harder into my neck. Then he’s getting up, moving away from me.
His eyes are wide, his face blanched white. He’s still holding his hands out. They’re shaking. So is his voice. “I killed her, Leah. I killed Mother.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.” His voice is deep, but the word is half sob. He turns around and sticks his hands in my little porcelain sink. He pumps some soap, and washes, gets more soap, then washes his hands and arms again. He moves faster and faster as I stare at him, dumbstruck, until I go over, move his arms, and turn the sink off.
“Come with me.” It’s so surreal to lead him to my bed. I’m ashamed by how dirty it is, but my need to hold him easily outweighs that. I’ve dreamed of this a million times.
He goes down easily, his eyes clinging to mine.
“Oh my God, are you okay?”
“I am now that I can hold you.” He wraps his arms around me, locking me against his chest.
“Hansel. Oh, Hansel.” I stroke his hair, and his hands stroke up and down my nape.
“I’ve wanted to do this for a year,” he rasps.
Then he lifts my face and presses his mouth on mine.
I pull him down with me to my bed, so we can be more comfortable. We’re tangled in each other, our hands roving everywhere. Our mouths move hungrily, tongues tangling as he starts to pant and tears gleam in my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he says breathlessly. His breaths are short bursts between hard kisses. “Shouldn’t have come. With blood. I didn’t know. What to do.” He tugs his breaths in, struggling. He moves his mouth off mine and puts a hand over his face.
I stroke his arm, his hair, and then I pull him back to me. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you. I won’t let go. I could sing?” I offer.
“Sing,” he orders.
I open my mouth, and he presses it to his.
CHAPTER NINE
Lucas
I want to fuck her.
Now.
Because I know the pain would be exquisite.
Because she looks like Leah.
“Think about it. Think hard,” I say, rubbing my hard cock against her wetness. “Be sure you want to do it my way. Once I start, I don’t trust my ability to stop.”