My hands still affixed above my head, Colson wrenches open my knees and buries his face between my legs. I pull at the belt with a gasp when I feel his tongue sweep my pussy from top to bottom. Then he pins my knees to the mattress while he licks and sucks every inch of me with agonizing precision.
Finally, Colson releases my legs and crawls over my writhing body until he’s hovering over my face. Planting one hand on the mattress next to my chest, he squeezes my jaw with the other to open my mouth. As soon as our lips touch, he opens his mouth and I feel a gush of hot liquid flow off his tongue onto mine. He holds my mouth to his as I swallow the salty fluid cut with his spit and the tangy bite of my own cum.
When he’s done, he lifts his head with a smirk, “See how good we taste together?”
Rising to his knees, he scans my body, splayed, bound, and bloody beneath him. Then he reaches across the bed, grabs his knife, and flips it open.
“I would keep you like this,” Colson covers my knuckles with his hand and jerks the blade up, slicing through the belt, “but I don’t think you’re going anywhere.” Then he reaches down and loosens the strap, making my wrists and fingers tingle as the blood rushes back through them.
And I don’t go anywhere. Not yet, anyway. Colson disappears into the dark hallway and strolls back into the room a minute later with a first aid kit. For the next five minutes, he kneels between my legs in silence and I watch him gently clean the smeared blood off my skin and patch up my six-inch knife wound with Neosporin and extra-large bandages. But it’s anything but silent; our eyes bounce glances off one another with subtle movements of the mouth, carrying on a conversation only we can hear.
Only once I’m lying on his chest, beneath his arm, listening to his heart beat, do I open my mouth to speak.
I crane my head against Colson’s chest as he swipes and taps his phone, “What are you doing?”
“Ordering some Thai,” he finishes what he’s doing and tosses his phone onto the sheets next to him.
I draw in an excited breath, “That’s my favorite!” I whisper with a grin.
“I know it is,” he reaches up with his free arm and stretches, arching his back, “Pad See Ew with tofu. But it’s not because you’re vegetarian, you just like the texture.”
How the hell does he know that?
I don’t even bother asking. I just slowly sink back down and settle my cheek against his chest again.
After a few moments in silence, I glance up at him, “I’m going to tell my parents what you did, Colson,” I say while tracing random curves over his stomach with my fingertip.
I don’t even have to look at him, but I know he’s smiling.
“Are you really, baby?” his baritone voice vibrates against my cheek.
I nod, “Yes. That way, they’ll know from the start how fucked up you are.”
He glances down at me, “By default, you’ll be admitting to them how fucked up you are, too.”
“They can’t say anything,” I shrug, “they got engaged after two weeks. They’re hardly responsible.”
“Two weeks, huh? What’ll they say when you tell them you said yes to me before I even took you on a proper date?”
I scoff at his arrogance, “You’re crazy…”
“You want to know crazy?” Colson chuckles, “I saw your mom the next morning when I came out of your house. She’ll probably recognize me when you take me home with you.”
My eyes round and I jerk my head up.
He nods, “I left from that walking path next to your house. Your mom was coming out of the garage to go on a run. She’s pretty hardcore. But she’s Canadian, right? She’s used to jogging in six feet of snow. Anyway, she said hi to me and I thought about stopping.” He looks down at me with a salacious grin, “Do you think she had any idea I climbed down from your bedroom a few minutes earlier, after I watched her baby sleep all night?”
It still makes my skin crawl, knowing Colson was watching me, in my bedroom, for an entire night. But I still can’t shake the idiotic feeling that goes along with it—the one where I secretly enjoy how deranged he is and can’t even begin to explain it.
“You’re nuts,” I murmur, furrowing my brow at him as he strokes my jawline, “You’re fucking nuts.”
He is wholly unfazed, “Is that why you love fighting with me while I fuck you? It makes you feel like you’re not complicit in my behavior?” His mouth twitches into a smirk, “If you act a little angry at first, then you don’t feel guilty when you’re riding my dick like your life depends on it?”
“How did you end up in my class this semester?” I ask abruptly, refusing to answer him.
But he’s willing to answer any question I throw at him, “The first day back, I followed you to class and just went in. Then I changed my schedule while I was sitting next to you.”
He also has an answer for everything.
“What if I didn’t like you?” I press, “Or what if I hadn’t given you another chance?”
Colson gives me a slow kiss on the forehead, “You would have.”
“What if I didn’t?” I don’t know what kind of answer I’m looking for, but I’m sure I’ll know it when I hear it.
Colson looks down his shoulder at me, “You probably think I’m your worst nightmare,” he states with nonchalance, “but I don’t need to be. Get over your weak, socially constructed hangups about how love should be expressed and let me be the rock you stand on to do all the great things you’re meant to do. That’s all that matters, anyway.”
That’s all that matters.
“But how do you know?” I ask, “How could you know that?”
“Brett,” Colson takes a deep breath and slowly exhales, “everything I believe comes from the natural world—the dirt, the trees, the water...and if you ever just stop and listen, away from distractions, and feel the connection you have with it, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Maybe that’s what people think God is, but it’s like you’re sharing a pulse and a heartbeat with the earth and all the elements around you. And when you feel it, you know it’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.” He pauses for a moment, “And the only human I’ve ever felt that with is you. When I saw you, you were all these great moments in my life somehow stitched together to create a whole person. I knew you were supposed to stay with me from that moment on, because I was exactly where I was supposed to be—with you. And, now, I can’t see anyone but you.”
I sit in silence for a minute, marinating on his words—on him.
“Colson,” I take a breath, “you are a nightmare. You can be scary as hell and you hide it perfectly. But, for some reason, I still like being with you. I still like sitting with you in your darkness.”
“If you like being with me, then stay with me.”
