Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
When he jerked off—and he jerked off a lot these days—he didn’t think of Will bossing him around in bed. More often than not, it was the other way around. His favorite fantasy involved tying Will up and then forcing him to suck his cock and eat his hole. He wanted to ride Will’s face. He wanted to choke him with his hole. He wanted to force Will to lie back and take it as Gadiel rode his cock to oblivion. He wanted to make Will utterly addicted to his hole, until he started worshipping it voluntarily, until Will couldn’t live without putting his tongue and his cock inside of Gadiel.
He was, quite possibly, fucked in his head.
The fantasies felt bizarre and depraved, considering that outside of sex fantasies, Gadiel often felt like kissing Will’s hands and begging him for scraps of his attention.
Like, Gadiel wasn’t a naive virgin who didn’t understand kinks. He respected kinks. Having kinks was totally healthy and normal. But he’d have preferred for his body to make up its fucking mind about what it wanted. It all was just so weird.
As if his life wasn’t weird or frustrating enough.
Fuck, he couldn’t do this anymore.
He needed to get laid, or he’d go mad. Madder. Being stuck in a tiny apartment with the unattainable object of his sexual fantasies wasn’t good for his sanity. He needed some space from Will, or he’d fucking explode and do something he would regret. Something that would push Will away for good.
The mere thought was unbearable. Unacceptable. He couldn’t lose Will. He just couldn’t.
It couldn’t go on like this.
So as soon as they finished eating, Gadiel said, “I’m going out tonight.”
Will stiffened. “You can’t go anywhere. It’s not safe.”
“Oh, come on!” Gadiel said, getting to his feet. “I’ve barely been outside for weeks! You’re just being paranoid! Even my brother said that it’s probably safe to go out.”
Will got to his feet too. “Your brother said no such thing. What he actually said was that the people who are threatening him are from the Italian mafia, and they have a big presence in this city.”
“It’s not the same mafia,” Gadiel argued.
“Maybe not. But they likely have connections to the Sicilian mafia. It’s too risky, Gadiel.”
“I don’t care!” Gadiel snapped, frustration making his voice sharper. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to live with—” He cut himself off before he could humiliate himself. His face hot, he glared at Will and ground out, “I want to get laid. I want to feel wanted, to feel good. I’m finally in a city where there are openly gay men and clubs where I can meet them. So I’m going out to get laid, all the mafia in the world be damned!”
“No.”
“No?” Gadiel repeated incredulously. “How are you going to stop me? You can’t stop me.”
A series of emotions flickered through Will’s face: anger, frustration, concern, and then anger again.
“Can’t I?” he said, crossing his muscular arms over his chest and stepping between Gadiel and the door.
And Gadiel saw red, his frustration morphing into fury.
With a growl, he slammed his fists into Will’s chest, but Will quickly grabbed his arms, preventing him from hitting him again. Breathing hard, Gadiel headbutted him, but Will shifted his arms, pulling him into a headlock and trapping his flailing arms. “Let me go!” Gadiel yelled, bucking and trying to free himself.
“Enough,” Will growled into his ear.
Gadiel went still, all the blood in his body rushing to his dick. His stupid, traitorous dick that didn’t care that he was angry.
“You have no right,” Gadiel bit out. “You can’t just lock me up here and take away my rights!”
“You little idiot,” Will gritted out, shaking him roughly. “Is getting your dick wet more important to you than your life?”
Gadiel laughed. “My life is worth nothing.”
Will’s arms around him tightened. “Don’t say that,” he said quietly.
“But it’s true,” Gadiel whispered, an ache starting in his stomach and creeping into his throat. “I’m getting married next month. My life is over one way or another.”
The thought was nauseating. Nauseatingly real.
Ever since they’d moved here, he’d been so caught up in the domesticity—or perhaps he had been avoiding thinking about it—but it was March already. His wedding was next month. Next month he would be married to a girl he had barely exchanged two words with. And Will would be gone from his life.
It made him feel ill.
Will would be gone. And he would be alone. All these weeks, he had been deluding himself, allowing himself to get used to the intoxicating intimacy and domesticity, allowing himself to be happy here, as if this life with Will was something he could have. It was just pretend.
An idiot. He was such an idiot. A stupid, foolish kid.
“Let me go,” he managed through the lump in throat.