Page 259 of Satan's Spawn
I’m not in the business of pushing a traumatized person past their limits, but if we’re talking inner shame, then Crayton’s got to learn to let it go too.
“What did you just tell me?” I question when I reach his zipper.
“There’s no part of you to be ashamed about,” he grates.
I turn to face him. “Well, the same goes for you.”
Pulling his pants down to his ankles, I notice his cock still solid in spite of his nerves.
“Trust me, okay?” I tell him when I drop to my knees.
He shifts uncomfortably. “This is different.”
“Is it?”
“You know why I can’t do this.”
“Well it’s time I prove you can.”
I reach for his cock but Crayton stops me.
“Rebecca,” his voice cracks, the damaged little boy inside him breaking through. “I promised myself I would never allow any woman to do that again.”
I empathize so much with his point, but if Crayton never lets go of his past, he’ll stay trapped there forever.
“Am I just any woman to you?”
“You know you’re fucking not.”
“Okay, so technically you’re not breaking your promise.”
Unresolved pain distorts his gorgeous features, but I know how much facing it can help you move on.
This is no longer about wanting to suck his cock, I mean—I do, obviously. But this moment is about Crayton releasing his demons.
Giving his pain over to me.
I reach his trembling hand. “If you’re truly not ready I would never force you.” Squeezing it tight, I add, “But if you can find it in you to believe I would never hurt you the same way, then please let me prove it.”
I keep holding him, waiting for his decision.
After a long stretch of silent deliberation, he nods.
“If you need me to stop, Crayton, I will.”
I’m met with a subtle twitch in his eyes. “Yeah…alright.”
“Stay with me, okay?”
Crayton clears his throat as I wrap a hand around his girth, closing in on him, making sure to take it very slow.
His eyes blink wide as I hover his tip, and when my tongue darts out to flick the ring, Crayton jolts like he’s been shocked.
“Fuck…I can’t.”
“Okay.” I gently raise my hands. “Enough said.”
The look of agony on his face tells me he’s torn between hurting himself and hurting me, but I refuse to let him make the decision.
