Page 59 of Dead Wrong

Cirian sighed, nodding his head and closing his eyes. Moving as quickly as I could, I stood, crossing the few steps’ distance between us and crouching back down into the water. Spinning my back to him, I settled under the suds, careful to keep as much distance between us as I could. His hand braced against my shoulder, and I shivered at his touch.

“Was that so hard?”

His voice was softer than before, given our proximity.

“Get on with it,” I ordered, growing increasingly worried now that he was out of my line of sight. Who knew what was going on in his head.

Cirian’s hand appears in my periphery, grasping a bar of soup and a washcloth from the side of the tub. There was only the sound of water sloshing to fill the space, then the scrubbing of cloth against my skin.

Cirian was gentle but thorough in his work. I couldn’t help but feel a bit like a child, having him pass over me with the washcloth and the rich amber-scented soap. A few minutes in, I allowed myself to relax. The tension melting from my shoulders, I no longer flinched at Cirian’s every touch.

I caught myself sneaking glances at the mirror, getting glimpses of Cirian’s body as he worked. His pale skin had gone ruddy in the heat of the bath, his flushed cheeks nearly matching the color of the locks pulled back from his head.

His attention was fully concentrated on me, and as his hands drifted to my hips, then around to my navel, I jolted at the sensation. Memories flared in my mind once again, the ghostly sensation of Cirian’s hands moving across my body, setting flesh alight with heat that threatened to burn me down to the core.

“Apologies,” he said, his hands retracting. “I should have remembered how ticklish you can be.”

I hated how much I missed his hand on my body, even just for that brief moment. But the crushing weight of what lay ahead of me—the reality of the slim odds of my survival—quickly quashed the hesitations that rose in my mind.

If I was honest with myself, I couldn’t deny the fact any longer: I wanted Cirian’s hands on my body.

“It’s okay,” I told him, reaching behind me and taking his hands in mine. I returned them to my hips, doing my best to hide the shudder that shot through me as his fingertips sunk into the flesh. My cock stiffened again, this time with a dull ache as if it mourned the release that never came.

Cirian sucked in a breath, his touch hesitant on my sides. He seemed… nervous. Which was a position I didn’t think came naturally to Cirian. To be honest, it gave me a thrill. Thrill enough to push things a little further.

“You interrupted me before,” I said, eyes trained on his expression in the mirror. “I was going to have the first and possibly last release of my second life.”

Cirian’s mouth opened, then shut again, his eyes boring a hole in the back of my head.

“But I guess there’s no time for that,” I continued, my hands trailing down my sides till they overlapped his around my waist.

He tugged then, pulling my body closer to him and pressing his chest to my back. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, holding me in place as a soft rumble emanated from his chest.

“You’re wicked, Tobias Greene.”

“You don’t have to remind me.”

One of his wandering hands drifted down my navel, running along the trail of fair hair till his fingers split around the base of my cock. My hips bucked instinctually, grinding out as much friction between us as I could, a sputtering gasp escaping my throat.

This wasn’t just a memory any longer. I wanted it to be reality. Wanted a moment of reprieve from the pain of my second life.

He paused there, waiting for me to give the go-ahead. Reaching down, I pulled his hand away, only to reseat it along my shaft, closing his fingers around it. He took the hint, pumping his fist down the length of me, causing a ripple of quivering pleasure to stir my bones.

“Yes,” I breathed, one of my arms reaching behind me to hook around the nape of Cirian’s neck and pull him closer. “Keep going.”

He did as he was told, stroking me with a comfortable rhythm that brought me back to the edge within a matter of moments.

My body was on fire with pleasure, heat radiating from my core, building hotter and hotter. With each stroke, my body ground against Cirian’s, pressing his stiff cock into the small of my back.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one enjoying themselves.

“Tobias.” Cirian’s heated breath in my ear nearly sent me over the edge. His voice was desperate. Like he was waiting for my permission. “I-I can’t take much more.”

I halted the movements of my hips, a soft whimper sounding against my ear. I stood, legs trembling beneath me as the slick water dripped from my stark body. Cirian looked up at me, an adoration in his expression that flared to life those memories in my head once more. Taking his face in my hands, I guided him onto his knees.

“Worship me, Acolyte.”

A sly grin spread across his face as he nodded, knowing exactly what I asked of him. Leaning close, he took me into his mouth in one fluid motion, sinking to the hilt as the head of my cock hit the back of his throat. My hands fell to his shoulders, gripping tightly to keep myself upright as Cirian took me again and again, the heat from his mouth bringing me closer and closer to melting.

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