Page 1 of Bound to Him
1
NOAH DIVINE
Saint Noah.
That’s the snotty name Christian Bloomberg called me whenever I was out of the room. I didn’t have to hear him for others to tell me about his trash talking, though, and while I should’ve been pissed at him for being a jerk, I brushed off the nickname. I didn’t care what people thought, especially not the guy I gave hand- or blow jobs.
Christian was only mad because I wouldn’t let him have sex with me.
We often found ourselves in the same conversation after I’d wiped the spit from my mouth from the latest blow job I’d given him. Today I’d made it all the way to the sink where I stood brushing my teeth before he started in on me. He lay on the bed in my small studio apartment, staring through the bathroom doorway at me in frustration. “Why won’t you eat my load?”
I sighed. Having my toothbrush in my mouth gave me a good reason not to answer him, but I could only put it off for as long as it took to rinse. His frown slowly morphed into a scowl as I dragged out every step of the process, but finally I dabbed my face with a towel and turned toward him. “Because.”
“Really? That’s your answer?” He huffed out a long breath of frustration and ran a hand down his face.
I refused to let myself be baited into an argument. He thrived on conflict, and I wasn’t the type of person who enjoyed fighting. His furious questions were always the same:
“Why won’t you let me fuck you?”
“Let me come in your mouth?”
And my personal favorite:
“Why the hell do you want to stay a virgin? No one our age wants to be a virgin.”
That’s the one he chose to jab at me with today. I exhaled loudly and forced myself to walk back into the shadowy bedroom. The curtains were open, and the night sky twinkled with bright stars that looked whimsical in the dark atmosphere. I’d much prefer to be out there sitting in the chilly air on my small balcony than in here with him. I didn’t know why I bothered with Christian. Maybe because I felt a little freer around him. We both came from the same world. His father was friends with mine. He understood the pressures of my name and who I was meant to be one day—Noah Divine, heir to the Divine Conglomerate.
The problem was that Christian made me feel pressured inotherways.
“I’m twenty. I don’t need to rush into anything.” I stopped in front of him and stared down at the golden expanse of his naked skin. No one could say Christian wasn’t handsome, with the muscular planes of his chest, a strong jaw, brown eyes that lied and said he cared when he didn’t, and dark wavy hair. He had Greek heritage that gave him a rich complexion, but I usually preferred lighter-haired men. That wasn’t to say I didn’t enjoy my time with Christian. He’d been my friend from the first day I started art school, and if his attitude wasn’t so hellish, he could have been my muse. He went to New Gothenburg State for now, which was close by, until he figured out what he wanted to do with his life. We’d kept running into each other at a café we both enjoyed, and as soon as we’d discovered we were living in the same area... the inevitable had happened.
It didn’t take long before I was either giving him my mouth or hand.
But the bastard couldn’t be content with that.
Christian threw his head back and laughed. “Exactly. You’re twenty. You should’ve lost it by now.” He shoved himself up into a seated position in my bed and wriggled closer to me. His feet met the floor and he grabbed my hips. “I was fifteen when I first fucked someone. Come on, baby, let me into that tight hole of yours. I’ll be really gentle with you.”
He dragged me closer, and I let him, but when I pressed my hands on his shoulders to stop him from toppling me onto him, he sighed. He knew my answer before I said a word. “No.”
“Why?” Christian released his hold on me and fell onto his back, bouncing slightly, then grabbed his cock in his hand, jerking until he was hard and flushed at the tip. One thing I could say about him was he did have nice junk—uncut and wide—and I always imagined when I did lose my virginity, my guy would have a cock just like his.
Christian wasn’t “that” man, though.
He never would be.
Nothing about him excited me the way I imagined “that” man would.
“I told you before, I want to wait until I get married so it can be special. I want to find the right guy.”
“And I’m not him?” His eyes narrowed on me. “So, I’m good enough to put my cock in your mouth, but not in your ass, right?”
My gut clenched and I crossed my arms, knowing what it made me look like—weak—but unable to stop myself. “I told you from the start how it was going to be, and you agreed.”
“I could fuck any slut in this city,” he snapped, rearing up again. His cheeks flushed, and I had to move to the side to stop him from headbutting my stomach. “Any of them!”
I shrugged. “Then, do it. Christian, we’re not exclusive. You’re the one who gets the blow jobs out of this. I’ve never asked you to be faithful.”
I got off, of course, but he never put his mouth on me. The most Christian agreed to give back was a hand job. It felt very one-sided, but I didn’t care about that, either. He wasn’t important enough to me. Most of my enjoyment came from pleasing him. It was strange, but I liked seeing his mouth fall open in pleasure more than I wanted to come.
