Page 71 of The Prodigal Son

His anger only grows as he leans closer and practically shouts. “Iwill be the one to say what I deserve.”

“Good,” I reply flatly from the floor.

Suddenly, his anger starts to dissipate into sadness, and I find myself reaching for him. The moment I touch his face, the anger is back.

“I’ve been alone for a long time,” he mutters. “I don’tneedyou, not really. I just…want you. And I am so fucking tired of people telling me they love me and they care about me, and then they fucking leave. I’m sotiredof being alone.”

Tears well in his furious eyes.

“Take it out on me,” I whisper. “I’m yours, Isaac.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he snaps.

“No promises. I can’t make a single promise to you.”

He winces, throwing his head back as he fights the urge to scream or cry, but it’s the best I can do. I hate it as much as he does.

“Is this what you want?” he asks in anger. “You want me to treat you like another hookup? A guy I fuck who means nothing to me?”

“No.”

“Neither do I,” he replies sadly.

To my surprise, he leans down and kisses me. I taste his rage and his hurt. And the harder he kisses me, biting and dominating my mouth, I realize he’s doing what I told him to. He’s taking it out on me.

His hands grip my hair again, pulling hard as he groans into my mouth. I savor every ounce of the pain. After breaking away from the kiss, Isaac stares down at me. His cock is still throbbing, resting on my chest. He glances down at it for a moment.

Then he starts to work his way up my body. Still holding my hair in his hands, he lifts my head and guides his cock to my mouth. I take every inch eagerly.

Isaac has come undone, and I adore him for it. He fucks my mouth, making me choke as he hits the back of my throat, and I know that if he didn’t trust me, he would never let himself do this. He’s comfortable with me, and it makes pride swell in my chest.

I want him to use me as much as he wants. I’m dying for him to make it hurt.

The harder he goes, the more it means to me.

Isaac’s thrusts pick up speed, and my jaw and throat begin to ache. I’m ready for his release. I need it.

His breathing starts to get shallow and tight. His face is contorted in pain, and I ready myself for everything he has to give me.

A moment later, he goes silent. Then warmth fills my mouth and I start to choke and spit while trying to swallow him down. He pulls out and strokes himself quickly through the rest of his climax. It’s degrading as his cum lands in spurts on my tongue, but there’s something intimate and sexy about that.

Isaac’s spine curls around me as he continues to unload into my mouth. He’s racked with pleasure and pain, shivering through his arousal.

My own cock is still stuck in my pants, throbbing with need, but I don’t care. I won’t touch it. This isn’t about me getting off. It’s about atoning for what I’ve done to him.

When he doesn’t have another drop left, he rolls over and collapses onto the floor next to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot my shirt, so I grab it and wipe my mouth. Then I turn and stare at him. He’s gazing, unfocused, at the ceiling as his chest heaves with the exertion he’s just spent.

Finally, he turns to look at me. When our eyes meet, the moment feels far more tender than it did a moment ago. With a deep sigh, Isaac rolls toward me. He presses his face to my chest as I wrap my arms around him. My hand strokes up and down his bare back.

“I didn’t mean to be so rough,” he whispers.

“You weren’t too rough. I wanted it that way.”

Neither of us speaks. We’re lying on a rug in his living room with nothing but the silence around us. He’s completely naked, but there’s a blanket on the couch nearby, so I just have to reach up to grab it.

Draping it over his body, I hold him close and kiss his head.

Then, with a shudder deep in my bones, I tell him everything.

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