As both my hands worked to bring him closer to his release, I felt a strange tightness in my chest loosen. All the voices that kept telling me I wasn’t good enough, that I was worthless, pathetic, all fell silent. I felt so goddamn powerful, in that moment, I was pretty sure I was bulletproof.
The fear, that had been my almost constant companion, fled before the burst of confidence that ran through me as I caressed this man in front of me. So many things in my life terrified me, but this… I could turn this glorious, wounded warrior into a whimpering mass of need. If I could do that with him, there was nothing I couldn’t do.
“Need you—” He gasped, rocking back and forth against my hands. “I’m so close. I need you inside me!” He managed to gasp. “Please, Mason!” he cried.
“How can I say no, when you ask so politely,” I said, grinning at him as I threw his words from our first night together back at him.
He chuckled ruefully, and groaned, slowing his movements but not stopping.
“I need to feel you inside me. I need you to fuck me. Fuck me and make me…” he paused, so I decided to help him finish his sentence.
“Make you… come?” I asked, adding a little twist over the head of his cock as I worked on him.
“No…” he gasped. “Yours. Make me yours,” he exclaimed as I again found his prostate.
“Baby, you’re already mine,” I whispered, high on the feeling of invulnerability he woke in me. I temporarily releasing his cock so I could move behind him to line my dick up with his hole.
"You're mine... and I'm yours," I whispered so softly, I was pretty sure he couldn't hear me.
"Oh god, yes..." he whispered as I gently slipped inside him. I groaned at the well of emotions that threatened to overtake me as I pushed slowly into Lee's body, not pausing until I'd bottomed out, then waited to give his body time to adjust.
I remembered what this felt like—the sharp, burning pain, the stretching, the fullness. I remembered it had always seemed like there was something just out of reach, some feeling, some explosion, that I never got to, but the tricks always seemed able to find. After the blow job Lee had given me the other night, I thought I could understand what it was they had all been seeking, what I’d always given them, but had never been able to feel in return.
I'd never orgasmed when I was being topped by someone, never had anyone work to find my prostate, or give me any pleasure, so I was flying more than a little blind on this. Everything I was drawing on to make Lee explode was based on reading and viewing internet porn.
"It's okay, Mason," he said, looking back at me over his shoulder. "I won't break." He said teasingly, that devilish smile flashing across his face as he looked back at me.
"I know," I said, overwhelmed by all the feels. "I just… I just couldn't stand to hurt you, Lee," I said, swallowing nervously as my voice broke. Goddammit, I sounded like a twelve-year-old. My thoughts flicked to when I was twelve, and my first experience with Ricky and Dreyven.
At the thought of the pain I'd experienced over the years, visions of all the pricks who had fucked me flashed through my mind. They flipped through my brain like some kind of perverse slide show, flipping faster and faster, until I felt like I couldn't breathe. Ricky and Dreyven figured prominently in the most painful moments of the show, but there were just so many more...
"Baby," Lee began. I could hear him talking, but my sight had started to fade out as the thought of causing him pain, being anything like all the assholes who had taken my body so viciously years earlier, started to smother me.
"Mason!" His sharp voice, calling my name, finally seemed to cut through the fog that had surrounded my sight.
"Shit, I'm sorry," I said, as I started to rock forward, but my erection had almost completely deflated when I'd been lost in my own brain, and I swore viciously as my cock slid from his body.
"Fuck!" I stroked myself, desperate to try and get hard again, the condom loose and slippery in my hand. I knew my face had to be beet red as my stubborn body refused to cooperate.
"Mason?" I heard Lee say. I could barely see his face, turning to look at me, his gorgeous ass still high, waiting for me to take him. It was as if I was hearing his voice from a hundred miles away. Tears stung my eyes as I gave up on my worthless body. Humiliated beyond belief, I did the only thing I was good at. I ran.
19
Lee
One minute I was on cloud nine, getting myself ready for a man who was coming to be very important to me. The next minute, the door to my room slammed and I was all alone. Fuck. What the hell just happened?
“Mason?” I called, moving from the bed to the door, wincing slightly as I did. It had been years since I'd bottomed, and the delicious burn had been something I missed terribly. I’d never trusted a hookup to top me.
I opened the door to the hallway and ran out to the kitchen area. The kitchen was dark, the only light the small night lights I’d placed in outlets to keep me from stubbing my toes in the dark.
A glance at the front door showed the door was still closed and locked, fortunately. I really didn’t want to be running naked through the national forest in the middle of the night. Desperate, I flipped on the living room lights.
Mason was curled up in the corner of the room, squeezed behind an end table and the wall. He was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them. He rocked back and forth, his face hidden by his hair. He was saying something over and over, but I couldn’t make out what it was.
“Mason, baby… it’s me… Lee,” I said in what I hoped was a soothing voice. He just kept rocking back and forth. As I got closer, I could make out the words he was saying.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he cried, over and over.
“Hey, Mason… Mason!” I called his name as I got down on my hands and knees to get close to him. I’d noticed before that sometimes my drill sergeant voice got a reaction from him when nothing else did, but this this time he didn’t respond.
The need to hold him was overwhelming, but I knew there was no way I could physically move him out of that spot, in the condition he was in. Ruthlessly, I pushed the furniture out of my way, then crawled over to him.
He jumped when I touched his shoulder, but his rocking continued, and he just kept repeating the phrase over and over.
“Shhhh… baby, it’s okay! It’s okay! I’m okay!” I whispered, sliding an arm behind him and pulling him to me until I was able to wrap my legs and arms around him; not caging him, but letting him know he wasn’t alone. “I’m not hurt. No one was hurt. Everything is fine.”
I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, but it was a long while. My hip was stiff and uncomfortable. Mason kept whispering his apology as he rocked back and forth, me with my arms around him.
After a very long time his voice started getting softer and softer, his rocking slower and slower. I just kept holding him, whispering to him, letting him know I was here for him and that everything was okay. Eventually he stopped and I thought he had fallen asleep. I remembered him saying something about how his panic attacks always made him super tired afterward and I just hoped he was able to find some kind of peace in sleep.
I let him drowse for a while, just stroking his hair, still muttering to him that I was there. His curly black hair kept falling in his face, and I kept moving it away so I could watch for any sign that he was having any other issues. After a few minutes, I decided the best thing I could do was put him to bed.
As I went to stand up, I had to take my arms from around him. His hand shot out and grabbed my arm, and he started whimpering again.
“Shhh… baby, it’s okay, I’m here…” I said, letting him keep my hand as I stood. I reached down and managed to awkwardly pick him up, holding his slender body against mine. He was so light in my arms I was a bit alarmed. I needed to help him to put on some weight. A couple of weeks of high calorie meals and workouts in the dojo would do him wonders.
I went to take a step with
him in my arms. That, of course, was the second my hip decided to lock up. We swayed perilously for a moment as I struggled to regain my balance, willing the pain away while holding Mason until I was able to stabilize us. I had to stand there and wait until the muscle spasm passed and I was able to move again.
I carried Mason into the bedroom and laid him down on the bed. He was quiet now, his sobs stopping. I brushed the hair back from his face, which was wet with tears. Anger burned inside of me at all the men who had hurt him over the years, but most especially at his uncle’s friend, Dreyven. If that son of a bitch ever showed his face again, I would have no qualms about killing him.
I went around and snuffed the candles, waiting to do the one next to the bed last. I blew it out and crawled under the covers next to Mason. His breathing was deep and even. I wrapped my body around his, and after a very long time, we both slept.
20
Mason
I woke in Lee’s bed as he climbed in beside me. I vaguely remembered him getting out of bed a few minutes earlier. The morning sun was pouring through the sliding glass door onto the deck. The light was on in the bathroom, and the air was a bit humid, so I guessed he had taken a shower.
As he slipped his arms around me, I could smell the most amazing scent, a cross between vanilla, amber, a touch of clove—something I was certain I had smelled once before in my life, but my exhausted brain couldn’t quite make the connection.
Beyond that scent, I could still smell the candles that had burned the previous night, and heat crept up my face as I remembered what had happened.
Fuck. I was a worthless piece of shit. I’d had a gorgeous man laid out for me, and I couldn’t even keep it up long enough to seal the deal. The shame of it was overwhelming. Growing up, Ricky had sometimes forced his whores to try and “make me a real man”, then mocked me when I couldn’t get an erection.
Ricky and Dreyven would sit nearby and mock me relentlessly, until they grew tired of the game and let me go after fucking me, or letting someone else do it. They’d repeatedly told me being fucked was the only thing I was good for anyway. Once Dreyven even threatened to cut my dick off, since my hole was the only thing useful about me. I’d still not been able to do what he wanted, and it had been one of the worst beatings I’d received from him. But the very worst had been the night he’d turned the tables, and instead told me if I didn’t get an erection and fuck the woman he brought me, she would be the one who got the beating.
I was all of fourteen maybe, when that happened. Despite her best efforts, I couldn’t get hard. He’d made me watch as he beat her senseless. He’d kept her close to us for the next several days, making sure we both knew that she was suffering because of me.
I felt a single hot tear slip down my face as I remembered the hollow, accusing look in her eyes. More tears followed as I lay there. This was different, I told myself. I'd wanted this god damn it! I wanted Lee. And he wanted me, but my fucking past had reared its ugly head, and I’d proved Ricky right, again. Even wrapped in Lee’s arms, I felt cold and numb.
I must have made some noise or movement, because suddenly I felt Lee’s arms tighten around me. He was awake, and he knew I was, too.
“Shhhh…” he whispered, his hand stroking up and down my arm as he held me tight. “It’s okay, Mason. It’s okay…”
His voice was husky and low, fatigue turning it into a low rumble. The feel of his chest against my back and his arms around me in a protective cocoon was too much. His understanding, his acceptance, the care in his voice, it was all too much. I needed a little distance.
I sat up slowly and swung my feet over the side of the bed. He released me, but I knew that if he’d really wanted to, he could have kept me lying down. Only then did I realize I was still naked, my morning wood bouncing against my thighs. I shook my head as I looked down at my traitorous dick. Fuck. Now you get hard?
“Talk to me, Mason,” Lee said, sitting up behind me. I could feel him lay his face along the back of my neck, his morning stubble scratchy and stiff against my skin. He peppered my shoulders with small kisses. “You’ve seen my scars,” he reminded me. “You can show me yours. What happened last night?”
I took a deep breath, trying hard to focus on the here and now, instead of the past. I wanted this damn it, and if it took some pain and humiliation to get there, it wasn’t like I wasn’t used to it.
“I… was afraid of hurting you,” I managed to get out through gritted teeth. “Hurting you… like I'd been hurt,” I whispered, running my hands through my hair.
“Oh, baby…” he said, a sigh escaping him. “It was so far from hurting, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
I nodded my head, desperately wanting to believe him, but the words tumbled out one after another.
“I started… started seeing them…in my head. All the men over the years. The ones who used me, the ones who hurt me. I saw all their faces. Then something… changed. It wasn’t their faces I was seeing, it was mine. I felt like I was just like the men who’d… who’d…”
I couldn’t keep the tears back any longer and I started to sob.
“…the men who’d… raped me.”
I could hear Lee whispering my name over and over, feel his hands running up and down my back. I’d expected him to be angry—or at the very least disappointed in me. I mean, it practically made me the world’s biggest tease. I got him all hot and bothered, then didn’t—couldn’t—follow through. I mean, seriously, who gave up the opportunity to fuck an ass like Lee’s? Me, apparently. Stupid, stupid, fucking Mason Malone!
As my mind wandered, Lee continued speaking to me, but it was like I heard it from a distance. My fingers clenched in my hair, my nails digging into my scalp as I tried rein in the whirlwind of emotions inside me.
I could hear Lee’s voice take on a kind of panicked urgency, but I couldn’t seem to reply.
My only warning was a slight shift of the mattress, and suddenly I was on my back looking at the ceiling, which was quickly blotted out by a worried-looking Lee leaning over me and… surely he wasn’t going to…
His lips landed on mine, his hands grasping my own. For a moment I was too shocked to respond, but then I felt something dark and hungry grow in my chest, and the kiss that had started out gentle and sweet grew until it was a hungry, clashing need, all tongue and teeth and heated breaths. We kissed upside down, for what seemed like years. Finally, we came up for air and I could admit I was more than a little out of breath. I gasped up at him.
“Is this, like, our thing? Spiderman kisses?” I babbled.
A huge grin broke over his face. Watching Lee smile, his face going from worried concern to sexy relief was one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen.
“Yeah,” he nodded, still upside down to me. “Definitely our ‘thing’,” he rumbled, leaning in for another kiss.
“I’m sorry….” I began, but he stopped me with another kiss. “No, seriously, I’m sorr—” and another kiss stopped me.
“Every time you try and apologize for something that was outside your control, I’m going to kiss you,” he said.
“Sounds like a lot of positive reinforcement,” I grumbled. His brow furrowed.
“Good point. Maybe I should spank you instead,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me. Oh, my fucking god, the man was so fucking sexy. My morning wood, which had abated slightly as we’d talked, was suddenly at attention again. He could spank me any time, and he was apparently far too adept at reading me, because next he said, “Hmmm. You might like that a little too much. We’ll need something else…”
He got the cutest little divot between his eyebrows as he wrinkled his forehead up in deep thought. “I know!” he said, his face lighting up in evil glee. “I’ll make you do… Algebra!”
A surprised laugh burst from me at his unexpected answer.
“Algebra? Noooo! You’ve found my one weakness!” I laughed, clutching my chest and rolling on the bed. “Superman has kryptonite, I have Alge
bra and Geometry. How did you know I hated math?” I demanded, stopping and staring at him in mock accusation.
“Easy,” he answered smugly, his green eyes twinkling like mossy green gems in the morning sunlight. “You’re an artist. Everyone knows artists suck at math.”
“Hey! I don’t suck at math,” I said, my voice taking on a pouty tone. “I just hate it.”
Lee leaned in and pressed another kiss to my lips, this one slow and gentle.
“That’s okay, whether you suck at math or not, I like you just the way you are,” he said.
I paused, looking up into those gorgeous green eyes, watching the sunlight play through the strands of golden hair on his head.
“You might want to think twice before you say that. That’s… that’s taking on a lot,” I said. “I’m sorr—” he started to lean in to kiss me again, but I held my hand up and he stopped. “Please. I need to say this, Lee.”
He leaned back a little, eyes studying my face, lips pursed as if ready to kiss me at a moment’s notice.
“I’m sorry about last night. Not about… about what happened, because I couldn’t control that. I’m sorry about how I reacted to it. I should have told you what I was thinking and feeling, and what was going through my head. I’m… as clichéd as it sounds, I’m not used to anyone caring what I think or feel, especially in bed. But I shouldn’t have run.”
“No,” he said after a few minutes. “You shouldn’t have run, and you should have told me what you were feeling.” He agreed. “But… I get it, Mason. I really do. You should have seen me…” His voice grew thick with old grief. “You should have seen me the first time I was with someone after Mack died. Similar issue, similar result,” he said ruefully, smiling, but a certain wryness pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Except, he was just some guy at a club. I never saw him again,” he said, his voice low.
Mason's Run Page 25