Page 90 of Obey

And how he leans forward to kiss the back of my neck, how he’s whispering, “Mads, Mads, Mads,” over and over.

“Nayeem,” I answer, just to say his name.

It’s hard and rough and I’ll be feeling this for days. I’ll be feeling him for days.

Right now, it’s perfect, everything I want, and the harder he drills against my prostate, the more I moan and cry out until I’m sure everyone in the damn club can hear it. Let them. Let them all know that I’m not ashamed about letting Knives completely overwhelm me like this.

I get closer and closer to climax, every thrust pushing me a little closer to the edge, until I’m right there on the precipice. It only takes a handful of harsh jerks of Knives’s hips before I’m coming all over the floor, and he groans as my entire body spasms.

Then he’s spilling, too, right into my ass—bare, nothing in the way this time, as heat floods into me.

I’ve needed this so much.

My cock is oversensitive as it rubs against the floor, but I don’t care. I’m a fucking puddle, and I couldn’t care less about any residual discomfort.

He nips the back of my neck, breathing hard against my skin, then slowly withdraws out of me.

I let out a disgruntled sound, and he only chuckles.

“Fuck. Fuck, Mads.” Knives pulls me closer to him. “You’re so… I’m….” He laughs and kisses the side of my jaw. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I can’t stop smiling.”

“You, smiling?” I manage after a moment. I laugh, too, feeling sleepy and happy and utterly spent. “World must be ending.”

We lay quietly, enjoying each other’s warmth, until Knives says, “Fuck. We need to get up. I need to take care of you.” He goes quiet. “Like I should have been taking care of you this entire time.”

It’s hard to form words, let alone entire sentiments, but it’s important that I get this across. “You did when it mattered most,” I say. When he’d taken me home, when he’d taken care of me in New Valence… He’d been there for me when I’d fallen hardest.

Maybe I’m being too forgiving. Maybe I just hate myself too much. But all I know is that I don’t want Knives to feel a fraction of the self-loathing I’ve felt all these years.

“Lily’s been giving me shit for how I acted,” Knives admits. “She says it was obvious I still had feelings for you, and that I could have skipped the abusive parts to get to… here.” He lets out a long sigh. “She’s right. But I did have my head up my own ass, and I couldn’t see beyond my hurt and betrayal.”

Abusive parts?

That knocks me out of subspace faster than anything else he could’ve said, and I struggle to sit upright. “You weren’t abusive,” I say. “A total dick, yeah, but I wouldn’t go as far as abusive.”

Knives gives me a look. “I dragged you into closets and fucked you without even asking. And I know, I know. You could have said no, and you could have fought back harder. But I did also start a fist fight in this very club because of, well, my head being constricted by my ass.”

I sigh, facing him, and I touch his bearded cheek gingerly. “Well, I won’t argue with you about that,” I tell him. “But I get it, Nayeem. I do. I’ve hated myself for years over this. How could I expect you not to be pissed too?”

He laughs bitterly. “Guess we both had issues. Anyway.” He sits up and kisses me softly. “Let’s clean up so we can go home. To my place, since it actually has decent furniture.”

I slide back to the floor on my back, wincing as the marks on my back flare up in pain. “You can clean up,” I tell him. “I’m just gonna lie here and watch.”

“Sure.” Knives goes to the cabinet in the corner of the room, which has cleaning supplies both for humans and toys. The floor will need a good wipe down too, judging by how my ass is smearing cum across the tiles.

He meticulously wipes himself and me down before getting to work tidying the room. It’s while he’s putting all the supplies back that I’m suddenly struck by how young he still looks, despite everything we’ve gone through.

“I love you,” I blurt out.

Knives freezes. “Uh, you’re still high, huh. Just rest up, Mads. I’m almost done here.”

The lack of reciprocation doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should. “I’m not,” I insist. “I mean, I’m high, but I know what I’m saying.”

He’d sort of killed a little bit of the buzz when he’d called himself abusive, after all.

Knives ducks his head, and it looks like he’s counting to ten before he looks back at me. “Mads… I was going to wait a few months and take you on a romantic date somewhere and then we’d have a whole sunset of mushy feelings. Probably not an outdoors-y date, but one of the restaurants with a private balcony dining room. During sunset. And there’d be fancy desserts before we talked about feelings.”

“You were going to take me on a mushy date and talk about feelings?” I repeat, sure I’m hearing him wrong. “Are you secretly a romantic, Nayeem?”

---