Cravings of the Heart (Trials of Fear Book 5)

by Nicky James

  Touching me.

  My dick!

  Touching my freaking dick!

  My cheeks flamed as he set a steady pace, stroking me through the joggers. He never once remarked on the poor state of my arousal. Our tongues laced together while he continued his gentle assault, shifting his hand lower on occasion to cup my balls and massage out a moan from deep in my throat.

  Whether it was frustration at my body’s slow response or just hunger for more, I didn’t know, but Iggy growled and pushed himself to his knees before tearing my joggers down enough to expose me in all my glory.

  With my top hiked up and my bottoms around my thighs, I sucked in a breath, eyes widening as he devoured me with his shimmering amber gaze. Iggy’s attention raked over my exposed skin as he licked his lips.

  “Fuck,” he whispered. “Look at you.”

  I winced on the inside. Yeah, look at me. Little skinny Arden. Too bony and thin. Dick struggling to rise to the occasion. I’m attractive as fuck.

  Kill me now.

  Before I could apologize or die of utter humiliation, Iggy bent and took me into his mouth. All the way into his mouth. Right to the root without hesitation or question. I cried out, grasping his head, unable to properly cling to his impossibly soft, shorn hair as he bobbed and sucked and took less than thirty seconds to bring my stubborn dick to full attention. Holy fuck this was hot!

  But he didn’t stop there.

  Without removing his mouth, he slipped the joggers the rest of the way off and hooked one of my legs over his shoulder while he continued his attack. I was too blissed out to remember to be self-conscious or care. It was all Iggy, his tongue, his lips, his succulent sucking noises as he moved over me. Then, there was more…

  Not penetrating, he applied enough pressure to my entrance to bring my hips off the couch on a string of helpless moans and whimpers. I writhed underneath him, begging with a string of gibberish nonsense, pleading for more.

  How many times had I fantasized about this exact moment? A million? A billion? A trillion?

  It was like nothing I’d imagined.

  Iggy didn’t slow his pace or stop. His end goal was evident, and his determination to make me come drove him to amp up his game. Working his tongue and throat in a skilled way I’d never felt before, my orgasm was upon me before I could warn him. I dug fingers into his shoulders and cried out with my eyes pinched closed.

  For a moment, everything faded. My body’s temperature skyrocketed, and a steady buzzing rang in my ears. Fear I was on the verge of fainting stole some of the pleasure. I gasped and repeatedly blinked, trying to dispel the haze.

  Fighting sensations: one deliriously amazing, the other concerning, I tapped into the good coursing through my body as my vision slowly cleared.

  Iggy didn’t let up. He took me through every wave until I was spent and collapsed, boneless. My chest hurt as my heart worked harder to catch up with the experience, and all my energy drained away. The room rocked and spun, so I closed my eyes and worked on coming down and finding my balance.

  This wasn’t good. Something wasn’t right. I felt woozy and foggy.

  Iggy crawled up my body and claimed my mouth with more brutality than he’d shown since our first kiss. Hungry and raw and obviously aching for more. I pushed away the weird feeling inside me and stared into his heated gaze, still trying to catch my breath.

  “That was so fucking incredible,” he growled.

  He took my hand and guided it to his granite erection, letting me feel through his shorts how hard he was.

  “That’s all you. Feel how hard you make me?”

  Wanting to reciprocate but unsure how to explain not only my boundaries but the strangeness overwhelming me at the moment, I slipped a hand down Iggy’s shorts instead. Taking hold of him, I stroked slowly and watched as his eyes fluttered closed and his chin fell to his chest. He thrust into my hand, encouraging me to move faster.

  When I knew for sure he wasn’t going to push for me to return the oral, I relaxed and set a faster rhythm, implementing a slight twist on my upward stroke, encouraged by Iggy’s soft moans of pleasure.

  I pulled his face down and kissed him as I continued. Our tongues slid together, his breathing choppy and erratic the closer he got to the edge until he couldn’t kiss anymore.

  “Arden…” He rested our foreheads together as he jerked his hips in time with my pulls. “Close,” he panted.

  Blindly reaching between us, he slipped his shorts down further, giving me better access.

  His amber eyes locked on mine as I slicked my thumb through a thread of leaking precum at his tip. Using it to help lubricate the slide, I increased my effort. In two more strokes, he squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head on my chest, body shuttering as he groaned and spilled over my hand.

  For many minutes after, we lay in silence. Iggy consciously avoided putting too much weight on me while he feathered fingers over my hip bone. I reached blindly for a tissue box I’d seen on the coffee table and used a few to clean up.

  Neither of us spoke as we basked in the afterglow. We touched and shared a few sweet kisses. Iggy’s fingers mapped my body as they had before. However, with our flaring urges sated, my concerns returned. My unappealing body, my uncooperative dick, and the sudden weakness and light-headedness that followed me everywhere I went, bursting to life in the throes of orgasm.

  And what would Iggy think if he knew I may never be able to give him oral in return?

  Iggy lifted his head, his eyes bright and with a sex-drunk smile filling his face. “You okay? Am I crushing you?”

  “No. I’m good.”

  He shifted to the side and removed his shorts. Our legs tangled together as we cuddled closer. Iggy couldn’t stop touching and exploring me. When fingers weren’t enough, he lifted his head and kissed along my navel, slowly making his way up and over my ribs. I tensed, hating how intimately connected to my flaws Iggy had become. When he got to my mouth, he pecked once before frowning.

  “What’s wrong? Your color isn’t good.”

  Everything! I wanted to scream. I’m disgustingly skinny, my dick won’t always cooperate, I almost passed out when my orgasm hit me, and I’ve never given a guy a blowjob because I’m afraid of how I’ll react!

  How could I say any of it without raising suspicions?

  “Was that… okay?” I asked instead.

  “Are you kidding?”

  “But I didn’t… you know.”

  Understanding dawned on Iggy’s face. “That was fucking amazing, Arden. Believe me.” Then, he paused and narrowed his eyes. I cringed, knowing what was coming. “Have you ever? Shit, I should have asked. You’re so much younger than me. I didn’t think. And your family—”

  “No. Forget that. I don’t follow their rules. I follow my own. I’m not a virgin if that’s what you think. I’ve had sex… once—which wasn’t anything to write home about. I’ve just never, you know, given a blowjob.”

  If my cheeks got any hotter, I’d burst into flames. Of all people, owning up my inexperience with Iggy was about the most embarrassing thing in the world.

  “Hey,” he said, caressing my cheek, his gentle smile returning. “Don’t be ashamed of that. It’s not a big deal.”

  It was a big deal because it had nothing to do with opportunity and everything to do with an ingrained fear I wouldn’t be able to if I tried.

  It wasn’t the same as food. Logically, I should be fine. I didn’t have to ingest anything if I didn’t want to. I could be a spitter, and that would be fine. Except, what if it triggered my gag reflex? What if my mind when ballistic like it sometimes did and I had a panic attack midway through?

  I would never live it down. It would be too humiliating. Especially with Iggy.

  “I’ll never pressure you,” he said.

  When I didn’t respond, he continued to kiss me.

  A while later, we found a movie to watch and cuddled up on the couch under a warm blanket. I couldn’t hide how chilled I was
in Iggy’s air-conditioned apartment, and he held my shivering body tight, wrapping me in his warmth. It was getting late, and I couldn’t stop yawning.

  “Should I take you home?” Iggy asked, squeezing me against his chest and brushing his lips against my ear.

  The last thing I wanted to do was go home.

  “You don’t want to share your bed?” I asked, turning in Iggy’s hold.

  It was forward, but the idea of going home made me sad. With Iggy, I could almost be myself. Almost. I didn’t feel the need to be sarcastic or snarky, defensive or argumentative. That ornery man I had to be at home didn’t exist when I was in Iggy’s arms

  “I’d love to share my bed with you, but I work early in the morning. Like seven a.m. early. Not really conducive to having overnight guests.”

  “I don’t mind. You can drop me off on your way to work.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, his smile growing. “You really wanna stay?”

  “Mmm… yes.”

  That was that.

  Iggy tumbled off the couch and clicked off the TV. Walking down the hall hand in hand was a dream. I never imagined there would come a day where I’d be invited to share Iggy’s bed. Wished, fantasized, and prayed, but never expected it to become a reality.

  Finding an extra toothbrush, Iggy let me use the washroom first. When I finished, I found him in his bedroom, turning down the covers on his massive, king-sized bed. Eyeing me from across the room, his radiant smile grew across his face. The implication of what we were doing and where this relationship was going was clear to both of us. His smile was contagious, and I ducked my chin, unable to stop my own but unwilling to share it.

  Iggy crossed the room immediately and tipped my chin so we were eye to eye.

  “Stop hiding.”

  I couldn’t help it. My fractured smile was just one more thing about myself I hated to my core. A part of myself I couldn’t willingly give up without a struggle.

  He pecked my lips and brushed the backs of his fingers along my left jaw, directly over the area that lacked any feeling. The odd sensation of pressure with no feeling was familiar after all these years, but I cringed nonetheless.

  “You’re gorgeous, Arden. The things you see as flaws are the things that make you unique and special. I don’t want perfection. I want you. Go crawl in. I won’t be long.”

  Iggy retreated to the washroom as I remained in place, his words tumbling around my head. A broken smile was one thing, but would he still want me if he knew how weak I was inside? If he saw the terrified coward I hid from the world? I couldn’t stand myself most days, it was hard to believe anyone else could see me differently.

  I stripped down to my underwear before shuffling under his heavy comforter, enjoying the warmth. When Iggy came back, he killed the lights and crawled in beside me. Tugging me closer so we lay side by side, Iggy wrapped his bigger body securely around me, weaving our legs together and cradling my face. Breathing the same pocket of air, we shared a few lingering kisses in the dark.

  “I’m gonna be so tired tomorrow,” he said, chuckling against my mouth.

  “How do you figure?”

  “Because I’m not going to be able to stop kissing and touching you. I won’t sleep a wink.”

  I wormed closer, enjoying his warmth and the firmness of his solid body. His hand trailed down my back and cupped my ass, dragging me closer.

  “So, talk to me,” he said. “I’m all about transparency in relationships, and since this is going in the direction I think it is, I want to ask you some things.”

  “Oh boy.”

  He kissed the tip of my nose. “You’re not a virgin, but you said you’ve only been with one other person and it wasn’t good, is that right?”

  I groaned. “Must we?”

  Iggy continued to massage my ass as he spoke. “I’m curious what wasn’t good about it because if we move forward—and I suspect we will at some point—I don’t want you feeling anything but satisfied.”

  I sighed, knowing I wasn’t getting out of it. “Okay, well, it was just rushed the first time, and it kinda hurt more than I expected. We didn’t know what we were doing.” My cheeks flamed, and I buried my face against Iggy’s chest, refusing to move.

  “You know, you just described probably half of all first-time gay, anal experiences, so don’t be embarrassed. How old were you?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Was it a boyfriend?”

  “Kinda. Catholic school. You know how that is. Neither of us was out, and his family was a lot like mine, so getting together was always hard.”

  “Did you only try it the one way?”

  I lifted my head and searched Iggy’s face. “You mean did I only try bottoming?”

  “Yeah.”

  I nodded. “He didn’t want to bottom at all.”

  “Some guys are like that. So let me ask you, if we took that step, how do you see it happening?”

  “I…” Flashes of endless fantasies blasted across my vision as I remembered the dozens of scenarios I’d pictured when thinking about Iggy over the years. “I guess I always envisioned me bottoming. I like the idea. Especially with you. Are you… Do you normally…”

  Iggy stroked my cheek, his smile never fading. “I’ve been in two serious relationships. Both were different. One, my partner and I flipped a lot. The other, I was a dedicated bottom because he refused. I was fine with that too. Honestly, I’ll be comfortable either way.”

  “Oh. Good. I mean… you probably have a better handle on things and know what you’re doing. Not that I’m opposed to flipping… eventually.”

  “I’ll make sure you get a better experience if that’s what you want.”

  “I do.”

  He kissed me then and rolled so I was beneath him. Things escalated fast, and with little more than underwear between us, Iggy’s hard length was evident before long as he rutted against my thigh.

  Mine… was struggling to join the party.

  Flooded with embarrassment, I tore from his mouth, panting. “Iggy?”

  “Not tonight,” he assured me. “I want more time when we do it. I don’t want to have to run out on you the next morning because of work or worry about how late it’s getting because the alarm will be going off in a few hours. I want it to be perfect.”

  He attacked my neck, licking, sucking, and not once stopping the friction below.

  I silently begged my body to cooperate as I lifted my hips and slid our covered lengths together. Iggy groaned and rocked his hips in time with mine. His hand smoothed down my side and found its way between us. He shoved both our underwear out of the way and took us both into his big, gentle hand.

  That connection woke things up, and thankfully, the slacker who was my dick decided to take part.

  Iggy’s mouth collided with mine again as he jerked us together. It didn’t take long before Iggy groaned against my mouth and spilled between us. The heat of his cum, the new slick feeling of his hand moving over us both did me in, and I joined him a minute later.

  What should have been an exciting, euphoric moment of blissful sweet surrender as I climaxed turned ugly fast.

  The moment I peaked, a high-pitched ringing shrieked in my ears. It was swiftly followed by a cloud of inky darkness that surrounded and encased me, sending my world off kilter. Dizziness followed. My body grew hot, and then I was falling into the abyss. The last thing I remembered was Iggy calling my name, a thread of sheer panic in his tone.

  Then nothing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Iggy

  “Arden? Shit! Arden!” I called louder, fumbling off him, ignoring the mess we’d created.

  He’d gone completely limp and unresponsive. One second arching into his orgasm, crying out his pleasure, the next, clutching me in desperation before he fell back against the bed unconscious. The last thing I registered from him was fear behind his eyes.

  I clicked on the light and shuffled to my knees, patting his cheek and calling his name. The deathly pa
le color of his skin looked worse in the dim yellow lamplight. I threw the covers back and immediately made sure he was breathing.

  His chest rose and fell, albeit slowly, in a steady pattern. When I found his pulse, I frowned, knowing from experience it was weak.

  I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and flicked through to find a stopwatch setting so I could properly calculate his heart rate and know for sure.

  After a minute of listening, counting, and refusing to understand the readings I was getting, I called 9-1-1. His pulse was scraping the edge of only forty beats a minute which was frighteningly low. Low enough I wasn’t convinced I was getting an accurate reading. Low enough, however, his unconscious state made sense.

  “Arden. Arden, wake up.” I stroked his cheek as the call connected.

  “9-1-1. Ambulance, police, or fire?”

  “Ambulance.” I recited my address as I pressed an ear to Arden’s chest, listening for his breathing and taking comfort in the weak thrum of his heart while I spoke to the operator. “I have a twenty-year-old male. Non-responsive. I’ve taken his pulse repeatedly, and I’m only getting about 43 BPM. I don’t know if it’s right. He’s been showing signs of weakness all afternoon and had a fainting episode earlier lasting less than a minute. Severely underweight. Hasn’t eaten much today. Shit, I don’t have gear. I can’t check his BP or anything. I suspect—"

  “Iggy?” the operator asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought that was your voice. I’ve got Chris and Jasmine on their way. Hang tight, and sweetheart, breathe. You’re panicking.”

  “I’m sorry. Shit, I know. I’ve got this. I’m okay. How far out are they?”

  “About seven minutes. Iggy—"

  “I’m hanging up. I’ll unlock the door for them. I’ll be okay. Tell them we’re in the bedroom.”

  Ordinarily, it was advisable to stay on the line, but the operator didn’t argue with me. I was trained, and she knew it. I hung up and flew down the hall to make sure the team could get in then I returned to Arden who was still unresponsive.