Page 46 of Dance of Defiance
I cry out, moaning and twitching and shaking as my sticky cum explodes into his mouth—over and over, burst after burst, rope after rope, until I’m quite literally gasping for air.
Slowly, his eyes still locked with mine, Val slips his mouth off my cock. He stands, and before I know what’s happening, he’s grabbing my jaw and slamming our mouths together.
Hot cum floods across my tongue. At first, I try to recoil, but Val doesn’t let me. He just keeps me trapped between his mouth and the wall behind me, kissing me and feeding me my own cum, mixed with his that was coating my dick.
When he pulls away, the moment hangs suspended in time. Like a freeze-frame of my life that I never want to move on from.
“Now, was that really so fucking bad?” Val chuckles.
Then, the house of cards comes crashing down.
And all I feel is abjecthorror.
Val’s opening his mouth to say something else when I quickly push past him without a word.
“Roman?”
I’m silent as I awkwardly bend down to grab my shorts and t-shirt up off the floor. I yank them both on, facing away from him and feeling a crawling self-loathing spreading all over my skin.
“Hi, hello, what the fuck’s happening?” Val growls.
“I have to go.”
“Uh…”
I don’t turn around. I just finish tugging my sweaty t-shirt back down over my torso, still facing away from him.
“Okaaay?”
“Bye.”
I start to reach for the door.
“Do you want to, like, talk about this? Like, to process?—”
“I’m fine.”
Val snorts behind me. “Um, yeah, no, you’re not. Roman?—”
“I said I’mfine,” I snap, still not looking at him.
“Jesus, Roman?—”
“I’m not fucking gay, okay?!”
The steam room goes silent for a few long seconds, until I hear the slow exhale of his breath and a mirthless, brittle chuckle.
“Wow,” he says dryly. “Then somebody should give you a goddamn Oscar for that performance of ‘Best Subby Little Gay Bitch’.”
I whirl on him with murder in my eyes and a snarl on my lips.
“Fuck you.”
Val rolls his eyes. “Look, you’re processing. Hey, I’vebeenthere. If you just want to talk...”
He reaches for me, probably totally innocently, maybe to rest his hand on my shoulder. But before he does that, I flinch away.
A survival instinct.
