Page 36 of For Your Heart
Then his mouth is off mine and he spins me around. We shuffle, but I’m so lost and I know the only thing holding me up is his hands on me. He pulls me to his chest and spreads my legs. His legs stretch between mine as he leans back on something.
His dick presses at my ass and I nod. It doesn’t take more than a little nudge to move his cockhead past the tight muscled ring at my ass. Then his hands cover mine on my hips and he pulls me down hard.
My entire body convulses as I cry out. Everything in me shakes at the heat and burn as I grip him tightly, my body writhing on top of his.
“Take a breath, Sage,” he murmurs at the shell of my ear. He repeats it until I do. “That’s better. Now ride my dick with all your anger and energy. Use my cock in any way you need.”
“Can I come?” I ask.
He chuckles, the sound moves through my body and circles in my balls. “As many times as you want.”
For a second, I remain just like that. Keeping his hard dick inside me. But then I move, putting myself upright, taking a couple experimental bounces. The way he spears me through is good. How hard he is. How deep he goes.
Groaning, I lean forward and brace my hands on the opposite wall. Using my leverage and our position, I begin bouncing on him in earnest. There’s rhythm at first but his words keep ringing through my head.Use my cock.
I let go. I let my frustration and anger come out through tears as I squeeze my eyes shut and ride him with abandon. The sting is delicious. The way I keep hitting everything and nothing is dizzying. I ride him until I can’t hold myself anymore and nearly topple over.
There’s no cum yet. Apparently, I’m not good at giving myself an orgasm this way.
Damon’s arms circle me, and he holds me to his chest. “What do you need?”
For it all to go away. I want it to just… never have happened. No mom. No Sammy. I don’t say any of that because I don’t want him to leave. I want him to fuck me until I don’t remember anything else.
Maybe I said those words. The next thing I know he has me face down on my couch as he fucks my ass with all the force and exacting thrusts that I needed but couldn’t manage on my own. I come hard, crying out into the cushion beneath me.
It’s not much longer when he pulls out and I feel the hot spray of his come on my back. No condom? Should I be upset about that?
Fuck, I don’t have it in me to care right now.
His breaths are hot on my cooling skin, his hands still pressed to the backs of my shoulders, holding me in place. After another minute, he stands and walks away. Though he’s only gone for a minute, I begin to feel like I’m falling again. Damon’s hands letting me go make me feel unbalanced. Unanchored.
Then he’s back and gently cleaning me. My back first, then he rolls me over and cleans my stomach, my cock, and then the couch under me. He tosses the dish rag onto the counter before climbing on the couch with me.
I’m bigger than Damon. I outweigh him by at least twenty pounds. I’m stockier, too. His body is lean and hard, not built to show off muscle but to maintain the shape he’s in. I love his shape. Mine is exactly the opposite. Where Damon’s worked on keeping himself trim, I’ve concentrated on gaining muscle mass.
But when he lays on top of me, tangling his fingers into my hair and pressing his face to the side of mine, I feel like I’m the smaller one that he’s holding.
For a while, we lay in silence until I give a deep sigh.
“Want to talk?” he asks.`
I shake my head but then words come spilling out anyway. “I’ve forced myself to be my mother’s perfect straight son my entire life. She didn’t want a gay son. She didn’t sign up for a queer. She wanted a straight son with a pretty little daughter-in-law, and many grandbabies by them. I just… I couldn’t take it anymore. For so long, I hated what I was because it made my mother disappointed in me. My entire being offended her. She gave me life! How could I not be what she wanted? But it was too much. I tried and tried and tried but it was never enough. Maybe I finally snapped one day, and I broke it all off. No more pretending to be straight and liking women. I hate it. It’s gross. It does nothing for me. I’ve even pretended that I’m just not into sex so I can get out of it. That was a year ago and they—They just don’t… They won’t stop. They won’t let it go. I can’t live with them hanging over me like a storm cloud.”
His grip on me tightens and for a second, I think I’m going to sob. I promised myself when I first broke off my relationship with Sammy that I would allow myself to cry once. For the stress and relief. For the way I hurt someone who didn’t need to be hurt; it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know. I allowed myself to cry for the way my mother looked at me—betrayal, disgust, disappointment, anger, hurt. I cried because I knew that no matter what I did, no matter what I do, I will never have the love and support from my mother that I’ve always craved. Because the woman in my mind,thatmother, never existed.
But that was it. Once. I’d allowed myself one time to cry over this.
To be fair, I cried for a very, very long time. And I’d never needed to again.
I don’t know what made it all boil up this time. I don’t know if it’s just that Damon cared enough to follow me home or that I just reached another tipping point. Maybe I was more stressed than I thought. Whatever it was, my tears were right there. Threatening to fall.
“I’m proud of you,” Damon says, and my breath catches. I can’t take another breath. “You’re very brave, Sage. I’m so proud of you for sticking up for yourself. I can’t imagine how hard that was.”
That’s it. Tears streak down my cheeks. Besides my therapist and Jordan and River,no onehas ever told me they’re proud of me. Not for this. Not for something that matters.
For the first time in my entire fucking life, someone new sees me for who I am. For my struggles and my strength. And my weakness. And they’reproud of me.
I grip Damon tightly and let my tears fall silently. Fine, I’ll give into the tears but I’m not going to sob like a damn baby.
