Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Crow

Icouldn’t stop painting and drawing. I hadn’t done it at all since I’d brought Cyrus home, unable to leave him alone and definitely unwilling to share this part of myself with him. When I was young, Chosen had told me that my “doodling” was a foolish endeavor, a waste of precious time. I needed to be proving myself, bettering myself, standing out from the others in The Enlightened because if The Chosen’s son wasn’t worthy, it would reflect poorly on him. So I’d always done my best to work harder, worship harder, take pain better and more often than anyone else to make him proud. It had never been enough.

I brushed my finger over where I’d drawn the arch of Cyrus’s back, as if it was the same as truly touching him. I craved his skin beneath me all the time, yearned for it in a way that was unhealthy and Chosen would have tried to beat out of me. It was okay to fuck because that’s what men did, but the need I felt for Cyrus would have been a sin because we weren’t supposed to put anyone or anything over our love and devotion to Chosen and God.

I slept with Cyrus.

My guard was always up, of course. Had he moved from beside me, I would have woken. I’d learned to stay alert because sometimes Chosen would perform drills while we slept. Chosen and his handpicked elders would sneak into our rooms, test us. Take us to the Clarity room, which was where they inflicted pain or did a mock drill of outsiders coming to attack our compound so we could show how we would defend our Chosen.

He was first. Always first.

My pulse accelerated, so I concentrated on the curve of Cyrus’s ass, the way I’d drawn his cheeks open for me to take him.

The way he gave himself to me…there was nothing like it.

I worked until it was almost time to start dinner. I’d needed to draw even though it was hard to leave him alone for that long.

After cleaning and putting my supplies away, I locked the room and returned to the house. When I walked inside, I immediately smelled him. The sweet scent that always clung to his skin filled my home, and that made something inside me rumble.

I took off my coat, then went to the couch where Cyrus was curled into a ball, sleeping. His face was flushed slightly, which made his freckles pop against his skin. His hair was messy, sleep rumpled. He looked so content, like he was able to shed while he slept all the hurt and bad things that happened to him. I watched him breathe for a moment, studied each and every freckle that danced across his nose and cheekbones, mapped out a route on his pretty face that only I would know.

My eye caught on the purple mark on his neck, the one I’d put there with my mouth, staking my claim on him. Seeing it made my chest puff out, made me feel like the king of this mountain.

I didn’t know how he could do this, how he could sleep through my coming inside and standing over him this way. I yearned to touch him but didn’t want to disturb him, so I made my way into the kitchen as quietly as possible to prepare dinner.

Though it was better when I started the sauce early and let it simmer all day, I decided to make spaghetti. I put the sauce on first, adding all my favorite spices before chopping fresh garlic from my garden to add.

I was about to start the meatballs, when I heard Cyrus stir on the couch.

“You’re here,” he said softly.

Where else would I be? But then, I’d walked out on him again, hadn’t told him what I was doing, and was gone for over ten hours. “I’m sorry,” I said, wanting to find a way to continue to give him more words because Cyrus deserved them.

He got off the couch and walked over. “You don’t need to be sorry. You told me you had something to do, and you did it.”

I signaled for him to sit on the stool.

“Spaghetti?” he asked.

“Yes. Do you like it?”

“I do. Like I said, I’ll eat just about anything. When you don’t always know where your next meal is coming from, you learn not to be picky.”

Tell him. Give him a piece of yourself.

Without looking at him, I said, “I would be denied food sometimes.”

Cyrus inhaled sharply, likely surprised by what I was giving him. I was too. Blood rushed through me, my ears sounding echoey.

“I was expected to be strong.”

“How does that make you stronger? You need sustenance.”

“Mentally.” When he opened his mouth, I shook my head.

Cyrus got the message and said, “You have paint on your cheek. Were you painting?”

Yes. You. I was painting and drawing you.

I nodded. “Garlic bread?”

“Are you really eating spaghetti if you don’t have garlic bread?” he replied playfully.

I chuckled, and we both froze, our gazes snapping together as if neither of us could believe it. I knew I couldn’t, couldn’t make sense of the sound that had come out of my mouth even though I knew what it was. When was the last time I’d made that sound? Here or there at myself if I did something silly or saw an animal do something funny, but not where someone else could hear. Not since I was a child.

“I like the way your laugh sounds,” Cyrus told me. “I appreciate your sharing it with me.”

Hearing him say that made me want to do it more. I wanted to please him, wanted to make him feel good in ways no one ever had before. “I like yours too,” I admitted.

“But mine isn’t something special.”

“Maybe it is to me.”

“Oh.” His mouth made a cute O.

“Just so you know,” Cyrus said, “I might start laughing all the time now. Just for no good reason, I’ll laugh so I can be cute to you.”

He would likely always be cute to me now, but I kept those words inside.

Cyrus started to tell me about the book he was reading, and I let him, even though I hadn’t read it. I finished cooking, made us plates, and we sat in the living room like we always did.

“You can sit by me on the couch,” he prompted, patting the cushion. I shook my head. We needed to discuss the plan for tonight and every night afterward because he was going to be here, staying in my cabin with me.

The thought both excited me and made my gut twist.

Cyrus moaned as he took a bite, and that was enough to get my mind off it and make blood head toward my groin. It was just a sound, but it felt like a mating call to me, like any noise slipping past his lips resulted in me needing him.

“God, this is so good. I’m definitely going to gain weight up here.”

“Good.”

He gave me a shy grin. “I called Melody and thanked her for last night again. She’s also going to get my car and take it to her place. I’ll lose my apartment, but I can deal with that.”

I frowned, brows drawn together. “Lose it?”

“I can’t afford to pay rent on it while I’m gone, which is fine. I don’t care. You brought me everything that matters, and I’m used to starting over. How do you make your money, anyway?” He stuffed another bite into his mouth, not knowing he’d just hit a sore topic for me. If it wasn’t for my mother, I wouldn’t have money. If I lived differently and outside my means, I would run out sooner.

“I’ll pay.”

“Huh?”

“Your apartment.”

“What? I can’t ask you to do that!”

“I’m paying!” I snapped, and when he flinched, I immediately felt guilty.

“Yeah, sure. Okay. If you insist. We can pay it online, but I need to do stuff around here to earn that. And I’m keeping track so I can pay you back.”

I nodded, though I had no plans for that to happen. I wouldn’t take Cyrus’s money.

We were mostly silent as we finished eating, and when he started to do the dishes, I watched him, always interested in everything about him—how his hands moved, the facial expressions he made, how he licked his lips.

“No TV?” Cyrus asked. I shook my head. “We can watch shows on your computer.”

“I don’t…do that.” I’d tried a few times, but they were strange and the people annoyed me. The humor didn’t make me laugh. Mostly it just made me feel stupid, though I knew I was smart.

“Oh my God! You have to. I’ll find good shows for us to watch. Maybe I can pay for a streaming service. You get the internet, right?”

“Yes.”

“How did you learn it?”

“I taught it to myself.”

“And that’s how you pay your bills and…connect with the world.”

I nodded, head throbbing. I rubbed my temples, needing a break. “That’s enough talking for a while.”

But eventually we would have to speak.

Cyrus nodded, then got his phone and played music while he cleaned the kitchen. I didn’t know who it was, but he definitely enjoyed it, dancing and singing with a spatula to a woman’s voice. My cabin was going to be much noisier with Cyrus here.

“Taylor is my girl.” He did a shimmy thing that made my dick harden.

You’re my boy, flittered through my head, and I didn’t shut down the thoughts.

After cleaning, he settled in with a book, and I got my laptop and searched streaming services. I’d spent years wanting to stay as disconnected as possible from the outside world while still having the knowledge to take care of myself, and yet, less than a week in my cabin and I was searching for the best way for him to watch shows.

When I finished, I chose a book of my own, preferring paper to e-books, and sat in my chair, trying to concentrate, but Cyrus kept drawing my attention. I wanted him naked. I wanted my dick inside him. I wanted…so many things I shouldn’t.

Cyrus looked at me over the top of his book. “What?”

I shook my head.

Something changed in his expression, and he set the book down, then stood and walked over to me. He stopped right in front of me, cheeks pink and breathing heavily. “Have you ever had a blowjob?”

“Yes. But I’ve never given one.” I would, though, for him.

“When I asked if you’re queer, you said you’re nothing.”

“Because I’m not. It’s different for me. I don’t use terms like that. It’s men I want to fuck, but there’s nothing beneath it. No emotions attached.”

He winced, and not for the first time, I realized I’d hurt him. But I couldn’t make promises I wouldn’t know how to keep.

He said, “I’ve never been in love, and I’m still gay, but you have the right to claim or reject any label. That doesn’t matter. Right now, all I can think about is how much I want to suck you.”

My dick throbbed. Bruce had gotten on his knees to suck me off, Hillary had too, but those situations weren’t the same as this. They weren’t Cyrus.

“Take your clothes off first,” I commanded.

“You want to see me? You like seeing me, don’t you?” He ripped the T-shirt over his head, then tugged down his jeans.

His pretty cock sprang free, hard and leaking and…what would it taste like on my tongue? What would it feel like to bring Cyrus that kind of pleasure?

“Yes,” I answered roughly.

“Will you take all your clothes off too? I like to see you as well, Crow.”

I trembled. Christ, what it did to me to hear him say my name. I couldn’t hold back the rumble that pulled from my throat.

I shoved to my feet and ripped off my clothes too. All these pieces of me he was taking…I hadn’t known I had the ability to give. The short time we had known each other didn’t matter, only our connection did, the deep-rooted feeling inside me that said Cyrus belonged to me.

He dropped to his knees in front of me, hand around the base of my cock, and sucked it into his mouth. I hissed, ran my fingers through his soft hair while he bobbed on my dick. It had been so long since I’d felt this—a hot, wet mouth on my prick—and Cyrus’s was skilled, and perfect, and God, I could live in this moment, dick in his throat, forever.

He pulled off and kissed my balls, looked up at me as he lapped at them. I pushed my glans against his lips again, watching him take me like the perfect boy he was. I didn’t know how I would stand to lose this, how I would survive once he left.

Cyrus sucked in his cheeks, savoring me. I could see how much he liked this, how much he wanted to be good for me, how it seemed to give him a sort of peace too.

I thrust gently between his lips in a way I hadn’t done in a long time. Everything with Bruce was rough and hard, and while I loved that, this was incredible too.

I wanted him to swallow my cum, wanted to shoot it on his pretty face, every inch of his body, because he was mine and I wanted the evidence on him and in him.

I snapped my hips forward. Cyrus groaned hungrily around me, making noises like he was ravenous for me as he took me to the back of his throat over and over and over again. He choked on me, gaze telling me he needed more. My hand fisted in his hair, and I gave it to him. Was there anything in this world I wouldn’t give this man? I didn’t think there was.

He jacked himself off while I fucked into his mouth, and the second I saw him shoot, my balls drew up and released, spurt after spurt filling him. Cyrus took down every drop.

My little lamb continued to suck me, nursed on my erection, eyes pleading. I sat down, and he wiggled between my legs, cheek against my thigh, and just…kept me in his mouth, sometimes sucking, sometimes not, like he wouldn’t be content if he didn’t have me inside him.

I petted his head, found the map I’d made in his freckles, and this time, traced it with my finger. He needed care, my little lamb. He needed to feel wanted and comforted, and something about me did that for him. He inhaled deeply, breathing me in like he had done with my underwear the night before.

“You’ll sleep in my bed,” I told him. I couldn’t have him in the other room. Even though I tried to pretend it was because I didn’t trust him, that if he was in my bed, I’d know his every move or if he tried to get up and do something, it was really because I wanted him close. That was a truth I silently accepted.

He smiled around my cock.

And I think…I think I smiled too because something I’d done made him happy.

I picked up my book, opened again to the first page, and read to him while he sucked me. We sat like that for hours. When he started to fall asleep, I woke him and told him it was time for bed.

Cyrus watched while I locked up and turned off the lights, then went with me to my bed. I stiffened when he wrapped an arm around me, tried to cuddle close. This would take some getting used to, and I doubted I’d get much sleep tonight.

“I’ve never done that,” Cyrus said. “The cock-warming thing. I’ve fucked a lot of men, too many men, but I didn’t want them that way.”

I smiled into the dark as Cyrus fell asleep.

It was a restless night for me. Every time he moved, I woke up, but I didn’t regret it. I thought I might need it as much as he did.