Page 61 of Obey

“You have been,” I protest. “You’ve been taking care of me so well. But right now, I want you to take care of me in a different way.” I take his hand and slide it down so he can feel my burgeoning erection.

His smile drops. “I haven’t. Not really.” He sighs and buries his head against my good shoulder while moving his hand away from my erection and to my side. “I used you and let out my frustrations on you and treated you like shit.”

He’s not wrong, and it would be a lie to tell him that.

“I let you,” I say, stroking his hair. “I could’ve walked away. I could’ve told you no.”

I hadn’t, and that had partially been due to my own self-hatred and plan for utter self-destruction. But I’d wanted him, too.

“You’re the only person who’s ever known how to handle me,” I tell him quietly. “Others have tried, but they’ve never even come close to you.”

“That can’t be true,” Knives says. He kisses my jaw. “I don’t even know what you like. I just forced you to take whatever I wanted.”

“If I’d told you I liked it that way, you’d have stopped,” I say wryly. “So I just never told you.”

Knives laughs and rolls his hips, dragging his cock against mine. I only wish we weren’t still wearing our pants.

“Fuck. I kept telling myself it was just teenage nostalgia. That what we had couldn’t have been that good, because…” Knives squeezes his eyes shut. “Never mind.”

“No,” I say, kissing him again, a little more urgently this time. “Don’t do that. Don’t block me out. Nayeem…”

“I can’t promise I won’t get resentful again.” Knives squeezes my side. “But I’m going to try, all right? So let’s… let’s try gentle.”

I want to insist, but he’s probably not wrong—and I’d rather not need the painkillers again. I don’t like how hazy they make me feel, and for all my talk about being relaxed and sure no one can find us here, I’m not a hundred percent positive that’s true.

Boar is still out there.

We stole his fucking boat.

There’s no way he’s not looking for us.

I don’t want to be in a headspace where I can’t react if I need to.

“Okay,” I tell him, nodding. I offer him a rueful smile. “It’ll be something new and different for us.”

Knives kisses me again, and it’s still slow, but the quality of the kiss has changed. Knives nips my lower lip gently, coaxes my mouth open, and teases me with a suggestion of roughness that never comes.

It’s both disappointing and titillating all at once. The idea that this is what we could’ve had together is a strange one, but it doesn’t seem fitting. Our lives are full of violence, and there doesn’t seem to be a place for romantic lovemaking in it.

But this is what he wants, and regardless, my cock is still up for it.

My cock will always be up for Knives, even when that’s felt treasonous at best.

Knives leaves my shirt on, and I hiss out a breath when he pulls my sweats down just enough to expose my cock.

I lift my hips to encourage him to remove them entirely. “I’m fine!” I say quickly when he looks at me. “Fuck, don’t stop now. It’s just a twinge! If you stop, I’ll shoot you.”

“With what weapon?” he retorts.

I scowl down at him. “The one in my pants.” I try to sound deadpan, but I end up laughing instead. “Fuck, sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

Knives shakes his head in amusement, then takes hold of my cock. I swallow hard, especially when he squeezes—and keeps squeezing, tight enough that it stops being pleasurable and shifts over to painful.

My erection doesn’t wane. How could it, with him touching me?

I grunt, though, and I settle back against the pillows when he slides down. “Wait, what?” I protest when I realize he’s planning on blowing me instead of fucking me. “Nayeem!”

“What?” he asks, glancing up at me. “You have a problem with how I’m running this show?”

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