With or Without

10. Tong

I tried to scramble away from him but he had a hold on my cock now. Any misgivings that had their hold on me before were lost in the feeling of him expertly jerking me off.

"Ahhh...please."

"Do you know what you look like? When you're holding back even though I know you want to come. When you're waiting for me."

His hands were on me and then he was reaching for something in his pocket and I recognized the small bottle of lube. He stopped jerking me off long enough to open the brand-new bottle and coat my cock and his fingers with it. Pok was back to jerking me off and I was back to trying to act like I wasn't affected. Like what he'd said wasn't true. That I was capable of resisting him.

Until his fingers teased my hole. Slicking the lube around my entrance before entering me. I tried to get away from it but the move pushed my dick into his hand. Trying to escape that sensation I was drawn back onto his finger. He had me on both ends. Whichever way I moved I was consumed by him.

It was impossible not to react. My body would do it even when my mind could think of all the reasons I shouldn't. Those were getting fuzzier by the second. His shirt was gone and I wanted to touch him too but my hands were still bound behind my back.

When he took off his pants, I was actually relieved. I wanted him. I was ready to feel him but he continued teasing me. a touch, a kiss, a caress and all the while driving me crazy with the feeling of every part of his body that was touching mine.

"Are you still sore? Because..."

"It's okay. I want..."

"Tong, be careful." He admonished when I pushed down and his fingers went deeper.

"Isn't that what I should be telling you?" I was so breathless it came out sounding like five different sentences.

"As long as you don't stop me."

I didn't. I let him do everything he wanted. Everything I wanted him to do. As much as I would like to make it seem like it was about him, I wanted this too. He was gentle—slow. Except that was worse somehow. When he was rough, when he was fast, it was easy to get lost in my body. To just feel. Not to think. To exist on a purely physical level. But with this tenderness, it was impossible not to have my heartstrings pull that. when he kissed me slowly and I didn't just lose my breath, I lost every thought beyond how he was making me feel. Beyond how I could hold on to this forever.

When he stroked my cock, it wasn't just to get me off it was a reminder of all the things I felt for him—the good and the bad.

The position, with my hands behind my back, was uncomfortable. When I tried to tell him that, he just turned us to the side. The position was so completely different from anything I'd ever done with him before. Yet it was just as intense. The feeling of being filled up, the perfect angle to peg my gland, the delicious friction to send all my nerve endings into spasms of pleasure.

The way I cried out when he fisted my cock was nothing compared to what it felt like. I've been on the brink for too long. I don't even know how I held out. When I finally came there was nothing of me left. I was his in every way. It was terrifying as it was freeing. Maybe what I needed was to do nothing at all. I just needed him to make the decisions. I had already allowed him everything else, how was this any different?

I received my confirmation when I felt his own body find release. I had assumed that if he had lube then he would definitely have condoms. He hadn't used one. The feeling of his cum inside me, just as shocking as it had been the first time. Just as good. Just as intense.

"Don't move."

I couldn't have even if I wanted to. I was nothing more than a pile of goo.

He cleaned me of the lube and cum and sweat. He kissed my shoulder and pocked at the fresh hickeys that overlay the older ones in varied shades of purple and red.

"Are you going to untie my hands?" I asked after enduring all his ministrations with them still firmly bound.

"No, if you had a headboard tie you to it and keep you here for the rest of your life."

He said it with a laugh but the look in his eyes said he wasn't joking. I was reminded that only moments ago he had tried to rape me. Now he was talking about keeping me captive.

"Why?"

I thought he'd hedge. Act like he didn't understand what I was talking about. I wasn't entirely sure myself but he knew without explanation, what I was asking.

"Because I can't stand the thought of you being with anyone else." I couldn't believe he'd said it out loud. I didn't think he was capable of admitting how possessive he was, even when we weren't together.

"I haven't been with anybody else," I assured him

"Not even your senior?"

"No. He's been helping me."

"What do you need help with so urgently that he feels the need to come to your house in the middle of the night? Please tell me that you can see his interest in you?"

"He's not interested in me. I failed a couple of my class assessments. Which is bad enough when you only have three classes. I needed a little help catching up. He's been helping."

"And I bet you he's going to ask you for something in return."

"And when he does, I will happily give him whatever he wants."

"Even if it's..."

"Pok... not everyone wants me like that. Just you." Then I realized what I had said and amended it quickly. "I don't want anyone like that...just you."

"Then, maybe, you should tell him that."

"How is it even going to come up? Do you honestly think that people are constantly making passes at me?"

"Just because you don't notice, doesn't mean they're not interested."

"And if I'm not interested, I don't notice."

He growled in frustration. Like he was confounded by my inability to understand my appeal. But I knew what I was. I was OK and yes, I'm pretty sure I could have found someone if I wanted. But I didn't want anyone but him.

This is why it was so devastating when he decided he didn't want me anymore. Now he was back. Only that wasn't true. Not really. He'd been mad enough to stake his claim because he didn't want me with anyone else, that didn't mean that he wanted me. It was an unpleasant reminder. One that was in my best interest not to forget again.