8

-MALCOLM-

A WARMglow fills me as North follows. Deep down I feared he might have come to his senses and decided to go for someone easier, more straightforward, safer, boring. That I might have been too late. But he still does as I say without question.

My heart thrums as I lead the way through the diner, out the back to the restroom. There, I pause and let him catch up, holding the door open, and he shoots me a look.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

I motion him inside with my head and he rolls his eyes and goes in, dripping milkshake behind him. I enter after him and he turns on me.

"What are you doing here? Are you ok?"

He's got milkshake all over him, his face is red, blond hair ruffled, ruined clothes clinging to his body where they're soaked, and his expression is somewhere between exasperated, confused, and worried. And in the dim restroom lights, he looks too fucking perfect to be real.

"I changed my mind," I say.

He blinks at me. "What?"

"You can't date Becki."

"What? Why?"

I want to lick the crease between his eyebrows as he stares at me, incredulous.

"Because I changed my mind," I repeat.

He throws his hands out. "You're the one who told me to do it. I wasn't going to come but you said I should."

"And now I've changed my mind. You can't date her." I lick my lips. Why is my heart pounding so hard? "You can't date anyone."

He opens and closes his mouth, shakes his head. I don't blame him. If I were him, I'd probably sock me.

"Why?" he asks.

The words are lodged somewhere deep in my chest, stuck like a spiky stone. I can't say it, I can't even think about it, because every time I try an alarm goes off, panic rings in my ears, and I have the urge to run and fight. Right now, all I can concentrate on is the fact that I don't want him to be with anyone else.

"Because I said so," I grit out.

He snaps his mouth shut, the flush in his cheeks spreading. He wants to push it, but the urge to do what I say is almost as strong as my urge to command him.

God, I need him right now. I need him to be mine, to claim him in a way that marks him as mine and no one else's. I get up in his space, pushing him against the closed door, one arm barred across his chest. There's no resistance here, and he melts against me. The uncomfortable urge to kiss him fills me, and my control is starting to slip away. Even now it's still hard for me to give in. I've spent too long resisting it. Instead, I tangle my hand in the hair at the base of his head and pull, exposing his throat. He gasps as I tug his collar open, and lean in, finding the place I marked him earlier and running my tongue over it. His flesh is warm and soft, and his smell is so individually him; body spray, mint and lemon shower gel, and the tang of smoke from the cigarettes he thinks I don't know he smokes when he's nervous. As if I can't taste it on him every time he sneaks off for one under the bleachers.

I mouth the flesh of his neck and he rolls his hips against me. He's hard, the length of his cock presses against my hip.

He wants me. He likes me. For some inexplicable reason. And because this is North, I know he needs more than just my instructions, more than just my discipline. So I try to loosen the vise like hold and let some unchecked words slip out. Because I know he wants them. And right now, I want to give him what he wants.

"Because," I say against his throat, my voice a low rumble. "I did not like seeing you with Becki. After the game. Just now. In class. Anywhere."

He lets out a needy whine, and I don't know if it's from the friction of his dick against my hip, my mouth moving on his throat, or what I'm saying.

"You're mine, and I never"—I bite down for emphasis—"want to see anyone with you like that ever again."

He groans, the vibration in his throat passing through my lips. The spot under my mouth is dark red now, but it's not enough. I slide a few inches to the right and work on the unmarked flesh there.

"You-said we weren't going o-out. You're not interested in me like-like that." His words come out in gasps and jolts.

I twist my fingers in his hair and bite down harder. I know what I said, dammit. And I was a fucking idiot. I want to take them back, but these habits are ingrained in my very bones, and the words twist as they come up my throat, reforming themselves in their struggle to self-preserve. Protect.

"I know, but you're not available."

"That doesn't-make sense."

I pull off his neck. He stares up into my face, eyes heavy. He looks debauched.

"I don't care. New rule. No dating, no flirting, no kissing. I don't even want to see you holding fucking hands."

I know I sound petty and petulant and really fucking stupid, but I don't care.

"You can't just keep making up new rules," he pants.

"Why not?"

He lets out a breathy laugh, still grinding against me as I twist his hair between my fingers and press my arm across his chest.

"So you're not my boyfriend, but I'm not allowed to date anyone else."

His eyes are too hot, too intense, and they bore into me. I feel like he can see right down into my soul to the hard kernel of words that won't budge. Can't he read what I'm not saying? What I can't say? I look away.

"Yes," I say.

I know it doesn't make fucking sense and I hope like hell he doesn't push it because right now I don't think I could give him a logical reason.

"Fine. But that works both ways. You can't get with anyone else either."

I don't want to get with anyone else.

"Fine," I say.

"Fine," he repeats, and I can hear the smile in his voice, like he's making fun of me.

Guess I'm not as subtle and complex as I think I am, but right now I don't care. I just need to make sure he knows he belongs to me and only me. I can work out my issues later.

I dip back down and latch onto his neck again until it's almost covered, sucking, licking and biting my marks across his skin. But it's not enough. I need to own all of him. While I suck, I fumble with his fly. He makes a surprised noise as I yank it open. As his pants pool around his ankles, my hand brushes something hard in his back pocket and I catch a glimpse of his EpiPen.

He has it with him. That makes all sorts of complicated things happen inside me, threatening to crack my composure, and I have to swallow them down hard.

I crouch, eyes level with the erection tenting his briefs. They're musty with his scent, and I breathe it in deeply, savoring the essence of him. Then I take the warm flesh of his inner thigh into my mouth, suck, and bite. He makes a startled groan.

I spread his legs to get better access.

"Tell me you belong to me," I say between sucks.

"I belong to you," he stutters, without hesitation.

"And no one else."

He nods his head eagerly. "MmmMmMM," he warbles, as I take a particularly sensitive part of his inner thigh just under the seam of his underwear into my mouth. I pull his top up and lick up his navel, tasting his skin and the pull of the fine hairs that mark the trail down into the top of his briefs that hide his erection. It tastes like spilled milkshake.

"Give me your hand," I say. He does, and I spit into it. "Jerk off while I mark you," I say against his stomach.

He does it without hesitation, slipping his hand into his briefs and then taking his cock out. He grabs himself hard, working the length of his dick with my spit. As he does, I trail along his skin methodically, pulling the material of his underwear aside as I go; I suck his flesh into my mouth and bite down, working it until it's stained pink and blotchy, then I move on. I work my way across his belly, over his thighs, between his legs, and then I turn him around. He leans his forehead against his arm on the door, hips angled to push his ass out as he jerks off. I snap the waistband of his underwear down under his cheeks. God, it's such a fucking great ass. Firm, sculpted, so fuckable. I suck over the curve of it while he whimpers, making small noises and grunts that only spur me on to bite down harder, claiming him as mine. Mine. All of him. Until his skin is raw and I've laid claim to all his most sensitive, intimate places.

He's thrusting hard into his hand, toned body tight, working himself up to the brink.

"Say my name while you get yourself off," I say.

"Malcolm," he gasps.

But that's not right. That doesn't hit the spot. "No. The name you call me."

He opens his eyes and looks at me, biting his lip, and then groans, "Mal."

My chest tightens. Yes. That's it. Only he can call me that. That's his name. It belongs to him.

"More," I say.

"Mal. Mal. Oh fuck, M-Mal."

I spin him around again and work up his stomach to his chest, pushing his soaked top up around his shoulders. As he gasps my name over and over, I take his nipple into my mouth, working the soft bud between my teeth, and he cries out. I keep him there, driving him to the edge until he's writhing and making that face that means he's going to come. I pull off.

"Stop."

He whines as he bucks into his fist a few more times, and then manages to drop his hand to his side with visible effort, pressing it against the door, leaving his cock standing livid and weeping.

It's so hot I want to get right back on my knees, swallow him down and finish him off.

I smile. "Good boy."

Wiping my hand over my mouth, I take in my work. He collapsed against the door, chest heaving and eyes heavy, bare from thighs to shoulders, his cock leaking heavily. And all over his tight body my marks glisten. My signature, claiming him as my territory. He's perfect like this. If anyone gets near him now, there'll be no denying it. No hiding it.

I lean in and lick one long stripe from thigh to nipple, and his body curves against me with a moan as I go. He tastes so good. I need more, but not here.

I tear his loose underwear off in one sharp jerk and fist it in my hand. They're mine too. Another trophy. Then I pull his pants back up. They tent over his crotch, painfully obvious. I lay my hand over it, feeling the hard length of his cock underneath the fabric.

"Don't touch this," I say. "It's mine, and I'm not finished with it yet."

He nods, his mouth hanging open, hopelessly aroused. He looks so fucked out. My perfect golden boy.

"Let's go," I say. "We have a date to cancel."