I couldn’t delay it any longer. I pushed my face into the pillow and screamed out my release. Wet warmth erupted under my stomach, soaking the cushion beneath me, probably destroying it.

Claude fucked me gently through the last of my orgasm. “That’s it. Fuck, Sonny, you’re so... Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck—”

He stilled... Held my hips firmly. His cock swelled inside me, pulsated with his climax.

After a few moments, he pulled out of me and undid the tie around my wrists. Then he eased me onto my side, pulling mywrecked body into his big spoon. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my shoulder, my neck, my ear.

“You did so good,” he whispered as he traced circles on my hip with his thumb.

I still couldn’t muster any words, so I simply closed my eyes and let his warmth pull me under like a rising tide.

Eventually, he leaned up onto his elbow and ran his fingers through my hair. “I’m going to get rid of this condom, and I’ll be back to clean you up. Don’t go anywhere.”

Not that I had anywhere to go, or even planned to stand up. Pretty sure my legs had stopped working, anyway. Plus, everything down there was so... slimy.

Claude came back moments later with a damp facecloth, rinsed through with warm water—making my insides cramp with something achy and undefinable—and he wiped down my stomach, my thighs, my hole. Then he carefully, and without any further words, dried me with a clean, soft, fluffy towel. He tossed the ruined pillow onto the floor, unfurled a different, much larger towel over the wet patch, and climbed into bed with me.

He lay on his back and held his arm out, inviting me into the gap. I didn’t think. I just snuggled into him again, my head on his chest.

“Sonny?” he said, his voice a whisper.

“Yes?”

“I . . .” Claude hesitated. “Thank you.”

That hadn’t been what he’d planned to say.

I knew because I felt those exact words on the edge of my lips, too.

Beautiful Torture

Claude

Okay, well, I accidentally fell in love with Sonny. So, yeah, that might present a problem. For me though, not for Sonny. I wouldn’t let it affect him.

In three weeks, he’d be heading back to Remy and leaving me for his old but very important life. I couldn’t let anything dissuade him from that.

It was his calling. His destiny.

And mine was here. I knew that now.

Fucking him had been a mistake. But let’s face it, I’d already fallen in love with him before I’d fucked him. It wouldn’t have made one iota of difference.

I wasn’t sure when I figured it out, or what was the tipping point. I had wanted to fuck him from the front so I could watch his face as he fell apart. I’d wanted to see him bouncing up and down on my cock, wanted him to shower me with his release again, but a thought popped into my head at the last second—we wouldn’t be fucking, we’d be making love. So I flipped it... him. Flipped him over and took him from behind.

It didn’t work, didn’t stop the rising emotions. Though I wasn’t sure anything would have.

And now I was truly fucked.

I’d thrown myself into a well of feelings for him, no ladder or rope to climb out with. I was likely stuck here forever.

I had three weeks. Three weeks until the twentieth. And three weeks left with him.

I shouldn’t encourage any kind of sexual encounter. It would unfailingly make things worse. But how could they be any worse? I was setting myself up for heartbreak no matter what. Why shouldn’t I enjoy the last few moments of Sonny’s almost undivided attention?

He was still asleep. Naked in my bed, half on his side facing me and half on his back, his knee bent, jutting up towards the ceiling. The sheets were curled over his one flattened leg, his hip, and his stomach. His hair fanned out on the pillow, shining blues and greens and purples like a pretty little oil spill. His mouth was parted, and he was snoring. Loudly. And it was fucking annoying. I was glad for it.

I tried to tell myself I couldn’t put up with that gods-awful noise every night for the rest of my life. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to utter those words out loud. It would have been a lie.