Page 1 of Tobias

Chapter One

Theodore

His thick, rigid length shoves deeper inside me, the husky voice telling me to breathe and let him in.

I’m trying.

I grit my teeth, burying my face in the soft mattress to stifle my moans and help with the pain. It burns and it aches, but it feels too good to make him stop.

He pushes the rest of the way inside, and nothing has ever felt so good. Never. I didn’t know sex could feel this way. Something you feel in every cell of of your body.

“That’s it. That’s my good boy,” the man behind me croons, running his large palm over my ass. “Now lie there and let me use your body how I need to get off.”

Fuck yes.

He pulls out and slams back in, waiting a second or two before doing it again. He does this a few times before moving faster, going harder, getting deeper. His thick cock strokes something inside me and I find my hips bucking along withhim, needing friction—needing to come. Even after I do, I’ll want more because I can’t get enough of him, of this feeling. I fear if it stops, I'll never get it back.

“You take me so well, Theo. I wish you could see your tight hole swallowing my cock. It’s so beautiful.”

My stomach heats, my dick gushing precum onto the sheets beneath me. I’m so close, and I’m not even touching myself.

“I’m-I’m close,” I sputter out, turning my face to the side so he can hear me.

“Yes, you are. Because that’s how good my cock is to you. Come for me, Theo. Come good and hard for me,” he says as he keeps slamming into me.

His words send me over the edge. The orgasm hits like a lightning strike, and my dick throbs, shooting cum all over the bed. I feel it puddle in the sheets, sticking to my skin. I groan loudly, faintly hearing him speak behind me. The words are fuzzy; the sound strange—like being underwater.

“—to wake up.”

But this feels so good. Everything feels so damn good. I want it to keep going. I don’t want him to stop. Even though I came, he can keep fucking me. It still feels so good… and Icancome again.

“Theo! It’s time to wake up.”

I jerk upwards, blinking so my surroundings come intoview.

A dream.

That’s the third one this month. Fuck.

“It’s about time,” Marianne says, shaking her head with a small smile. “You have to get going. My parents will be here for lunch soon.”

I push myself up from Marianne’s bed, noting the way the sheets stick to my body.Not again.

“Oh, Theo. Seriously?” Marianne says with a frown. My chest seizes, embarrassment heating my body. She comes over, pressing a kiss to my lips. “I’ll never understand how you can come so much. We just fucked last night.”

I let out a nervous chuckle, not sure how else to respond. I get off when we have sex but it’s never satisfying. It’s just never… enough. So it's no surprise I have so many wet dreams—they're no stranger to me. They happen all too often and seem to be getting more frequent the closer we get to our wedding. It’s something that’s happened to me for years, always making me questioncertainthings, but I ignore those things because that’s not what my life is set out to be.

Before looking for my clothes, I tear the sheet off the mattress, use them to wipe myself up, then toss them in the hamper. I grab my clothes from the chair to get dressed as I make my way to her closet to grab a clean set of sheets.

Thankfully Marianne doesn’t seem to care about me waking up in my own cum and instead takes it as a compliment. She loves my high sex drive and the fact I’m always sowilling. She’s a sweet girl. Too sweet. She’s beautiful too, and any man would be lucky to have her as a wife. Not only becauseshe’s great, but because her family is one of the richest in the state. Mine is too, which is how we got paired off to be married. Now, our families won’t call it an arranged marriage because that's so "outdated," but it was nurtured, suggested, and pushed. So, here we are, six months out from the big day. Each morning I wake up after a dream like that, I wonder more and more if I need to put off this wedding…

How can I marry a woman when I so clearly want something else?

It doesn’t matter what I want, though; it’ll never be accepted. That’s not how the Beaumonts do things. But I need to know…

If I knew what it would be like to have sex with a man, it would put my mind at ease. I mean, it can’t really be all that amazing, can it? It’s just sex. I have it often enough. Maybe the dreams are coming because I’m anxious. Maybe I’m not into guys at all, but it's code for something. I should be looking at the deeper meaning of being railed in the ass by some dominant guy who calls me a good boy. What the hell that could mean, I have no idea. That I need to speak my mind more? That I let too many people walk all over me? In my dream, I like it. In real life? It makes me furious. Yet, my mouth stays shut. Are my dreams telling me I should learn to like it? I have no—

“Come on, Theo. Hurry up!”

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