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16. Cain

16

Cain

Billie jumps as a bottle flies across the room. The glass shatters against the wall, leaving a trail of liquid.

Lars has trashed the room. Between the broken bottles and destroyed furniture, it looks like a motel doubling as a crack den rather than a five-star hotel in the Upper West Side.

“Look who it is,” Lars mumbles, picking up another bottle as he weaves toward us.

“This was a mistake.” Billie sighs.

I wrap my arm around her waist and hoist her against me before turning to Lars. “You’re a fuckin’ idiot, man. You think this shit is going to have her running back to you?”

“She’s never coming back to me. I could cut my primary artery and bleed dry to prove how much I love her, but that won’t do shit. Not only won’t she come back to me, but you’ll leave me too.” He brings the bottle to his mouth and takes a swig. “All I’ll ever be is a worthless piece of shit. Just like my momma told me. She knew what I was. She saw right through me, even when she was fucked up on whatever poisonous cocktail she shoved into her system.”

My heart stutters. Shit. Is he drunk for real? “That’s such fuckin’ bullshit,” I argue. “She was sick, Lars. I’ve never seen an addict like your mom, and I’ve been around a lot of junkies. Your mother’s disease had progressed so far that she was blind to everything, even the damn sun. She loved you, Lars. Deep down, she loved you more than anything.”

“Was your mom always a junkie?” Lars asked, packing my guitar in its case.

I lit a joint, taking a haul. “Yes. I was born addicted. My mom’s been an addict since she was sixteen.”

“I thought your dad had rules about not being around addicts,” Lars said.

“He does. He didn’t realize she was a junkie when he got with her. She showed up with one of her friends, and my dad almost tripped over his tongue talking to her.”

“Your dad was giving her drugs while she was pregnant? Doesn’t she have to hide that shit from him now?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Nine months later, my dad got a call from child services informing him that he was a proud papa to a bouncing baby boy. He got my mom clean for four years, but I guess a junkie shouldn’t live with a smack dealer.”

“You’re lucky,” Lars whispered under his breath.

Shots fired. I lunged for him, pushed him to the ground, and climbed on top of him. “If you were anyone else, I’d pummel your fucking face.”

Lars winced and threw his hands up. “What the fuck, man?”

I leaned forward, pinning his arms. “I’m lucky because my mom’s been a junkie for most of my life? I’m lucky to live this way? I assure you, it wasn’t lucky. My dad is a fuckin’ monster who beats the hell out of anyone who looks at him the wrong way, even his own kid. Why do you think I practically live in this run-down shed? It’s not because I wanna be some emo kid. I’m in here, busting my ass with music to get the fuck out of this town and never look back. Do you think I’m lucky? Did you know that the first time someone talked to me was two years ago, when I was sixteen? You know what’s really lucky, Lars? The first person who ever bothered to see me is the same guy who doesn’t know me at all because he just called my pathetic existence lucky.”

I wasn’t sure what came over me, how the moment went from me wanting to tear his head off to my lips crashing down on his. But the second we kissed, my world lit on fire. I would burn the world and everyone in it to keep the feeling forever. Lars didn’t push me away. His head rose, and his tongue clashed with mine in desperate need.

Lars moaned as I pressed my hard dick against him. I moved my hands from his arms beneath his head, yanking his hair as he pulled mine. A hiss fell from my lips as Lars’ hand glided between us and into my sweatpants.

The friction of his hand on my dick was a bolt of lightning flowing from my head to my toes.

“Fuck,” I moaned, lost in the sensation.

I pulled away from him and rose, desperate for more. Lars’ eyes widened as my cock sprang free, pointing like an arrow. I’d known I was bisexual for a long time. I’d been with other guys. But I wasn’t sure about Lars. As much as I wanted him in every way, I wouldn’t risk everything we’d built for a quick fuck. “If we’re gonna do this, we do it. No half-ass bullshit. You better be sure you want it for real. I’m not dealing with you changing your mind in the morning.”

Lars leaned on his elbows and nodded. “Yeah. I’ve jerked off to you. I’ve wanted to fuck you for a while. Didn’t expect you to be so huge.”

His admission shocked me. “You into guys?”

“I’m about the connection.” Lars rose to his knees, his mouth less than an inch from my cock. His tongue flicked out, and he licked the pre-cum from the tip. “I don’t care about gender.”

I gazed down at Lars. Images of him choking on my dick bombarded my mind. “I, um, like it rough. I can go slow the first time, but I’m into violent sex.”

Lars laughed. “I’ve seen your porn stash. I’m well aware of the shit you like.” He rubs the back of his head, his cheeks turning pink. “I choke myself when I jerk off, but I can’t keep it going. I’ve thought about asking people I’ve been with, but I don’t trust them enough not to strangle me to death.”

Fuck!

I stepped away from him, heading to the small table by the mattress. I didn’t sleep in the shack, but I kept blankets and other things handy in case Lars or Trevor needed to crash. Pulling the drawer open, I took out the lube.

I turned back to Lars. “How do you feel about spankings?”

“I like pain. I got into fights just to get the shit kicked out of me. My dick can take a lot, too. Punching, biting, all that shit does it for me. But I like to be the bitch and in charge.”

“I like my ass fucked, so that’s not a problem.” I grabbed my pocket knife from the table and presented it to Lars. “My thing is cutting and the taste of blood. I won’t cut you. It’s a little fucked up for other people, but when you top me, I want you to know I’m into it.”

My gaze moved down Lars’ body to his hard rock, straining to be released from his restrictive jeans. “Say the word ‘red’ for me to stop, ‘green’ to keep going, and ‘yellow’ to slow down.” I held up my index and middle finger. “If you can’t talk, tap any part of my body with these two fingers. These two only. I won’t stop if you use your entire hand. I expect you to fight back. It’s human instinct. You like dirty talk?”

“Yes, very much.”

I nodded. “Strip.”

Lars quickly shoved his clothes off his body, kicking them to the side. His body was a fuckin’ work of art. Lean muscles, and I was ashamed to admit it, but the scars inflicted in neglect had my cock ready to explode. In a fucked-up way, the scars on his body called to my need to cut up my skin.

With two strides, I grabbed Lars by the throat and slammed him on the ground before sitting on his face. “Be a good boy and shove your tongue in my ass. Prove to me that all you are is my pathetic little bitch.”

The tip of Lars’ tongue delved into my ass. His cock twitched as he ate my ass eagerly, like a man starved. Bending, I pulled him into my mouth, relishing the salty flavor of his skin. I loved sucking dick, having it fill my mouth, and knowing that the motion of my tongue could bring a man to his knees. But Lars’ cock represented more than the power I got from the deed. I lowered my head until my nose touched his soft balls, forcing myself to gag. I had an intense desire to flood my mouth with his cum, to taste him, swallow his essence, and connect us in a whole new way.

He moaned but didn’t let up on my ass. The deeper I swallowed his cock, the further his tongue pushed into my asshole. Pulling back, I drooled on his dick before lifting his legs, spreading them wide, and spitting directly on his ass.

“You’ve got a hot little asshole, baby boy.” I rubbed the tip of my index in a circular motion on his puckered anus, and Lars jerked. “I can’t wait to stretch it nice and wide with my big cock.”

“Please.”

Lars’ plea shocked me. Maybe he was dirtier than I thought.

I slowly pushed my finger inside, letting him feel the friction with the use of spit alone. “I love it when you beg, baby boy.”

“Aw, fuck. That hurts,” Lars whimpered.

“Color?” I asked as I slipped my finger back and forth in his ass.

“Green. Fuck, green. I told you I like pain.”

I continued fingering his ass and licked the underside of his ball sack.

“Add another finger.”

I moved to grab the lube.

“Don’t use the lube. Not yet. Just spit. I like the spit. Fuck, is it normal to want to be spat on? If someone did that out on the streets, I’d fuckin’ punch their face in, but with you. I like it. A lot. Why the fuck do I like it?”

“You like degradation. It’s more common than you think.” I spat on my finger in his ass before sliding in a second with methodical care. Lars might think he could handle an ass fucking with just spit, but that shit could tear him apart. As much as I enjoyed saying that shit in the heat of the moment, I’d never cause him actual harm.

“Fuck. Thank you.”

If someone told me I’d go feral being thanked during sex, I’d have called them crazy. But those words from Lars’ mouth were like a mind-altering blow job. “Whose ass is this?”

“Yours. This ass belongs to you, Master.”

Master. Jesus, Lars might make me blow my load right here and now. “That’s right, baby boy. This is my ass.” I swallowed his cock, taking him to the root. I grazed my teeth against him all the way to the tip before I allowed him to pop out. “And this cock is mine. I’m going to put it to excellent use.”

“Cain, fuck.”

I bit his thigh. “It’s Master to you, slut. Know your place, you worthless little fuck boy.”

“Sorry, Master. I’ve wanted this so much. Since last week, when I swung by and watched you jerk off. I wanted you to fill my mouth with all that cum. I came back that night and spilled in my hand, pretending I was fucking your mouth. Know what your pathetic little slut did after?”

“Tell me, slut,” I demanded.

“I pretended the cum on my hand was yours, and I licked it up like a good cum dump. Does that make you happy, Master? I’m a cum-loving whore.”

That did it. I wanted to come, and the only acceptable place was Lars’ puckered asshole while I spanked him. I wanted to flood him with cum and watch it drip onto the floor before making him clean it with his tongue.

Getting off him, I ordered him to turn around. “Get on all fours like the bitch you are.”

“Yes, Master,” Lars said before he raised his knees, presenting that perfect ass to me.

My hand came down hard and fast on his right cheek, making Lars moan. “You like that, whore? You like having my handprint on your ass? Marking you as my cheap whore?”

“Yes, Master. More. Give me more.”

Picking up the lube, I poured it down Lars’ lower back before rubbing it in his ass crack. I lined my cock up with his asshole and pushed in slowly.

“Please, Master, fill me with your big dick. Make it hurt, please. I want it to hurt when I sit down. Fuck me so hard that I’ll feel you up my ass long after it’s done. Use me until you fill my asshole with your cum.”

My palm connected with Lars’ ass. “You’ve got a gutter mouth on you. Bet you’ve dreamed about me fucking this tight little ass.”

Lars groaned, the sound a mixture of pain and pleasure. I wanted the sex between us to be safe. For Lars to know that I’d accept and love him no matter what. A part of me wanted to be tender, something I’d never been before. Usually, I fucked and ducked out because my partners were just a warm body or a vacant hole. But with Lars, it was so much more. It was almost spiritual.

I bent, kissing the burn marks on his shoulder.

“Don’t do that,” Lars said as he pushed away.

I ignored his plea and traced my hand along the bumps and ridges. Some of the marks were circular from the cherry of a cigarette. Others were third-degree burns, creating dips that must have eaten down to bone, never to fully repair. “How did they happen?”

“The cigarettes are from an old boyfriend she had. He liked to use me as a human ashtray. Suppose I should feel lucky cause I’ve heard of pimps doing much worse to the kids of strawberries. If you think about it, those kids are perfect victims. A strung-out mom who cares more about her next high than if her kid eats, not a far stretch to think she’d sell her kid if she had to. Guess I should be lucky that my mom never got to that point. The others are from when she threw a pot of boiling oil at me because she thought I’d stolen her drugs. Stupid bitch had finished her stash the night before. I was nine. She held my head down and slowly dripped the oil at first. But when I kept telling her I didn’t have her drugs, she poured the rest. Held me down and didn’t get me help. Said if she took me to the hospital, they’d take me away, and we couldn’t have that. Did I tell you she was a nurse? She may have been good back when she was sober, but as a junkie, she did a piss-poor job.”

My heart ached for him. We both had fucked up situations, but at least my father protected me. He might have done nothing else, but he was adamant that his business and my mother’s addiction didn’t touch me. That was the moment I knew that the neglect I experienced, the lack of love, empathy, and compassion, could have been worse. It could have been abuse, terror, and violence.

“They’re ugly,” Lars whispered.

“These scars are evidence that you’re a survivor, and that makes them beautiful.”

Lars’ voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Can you go back to what we were doing before?”

“I’ll give you those parts, Lars. I’ll fuck you like an animal and treat you like a whore, but I’ll also love you.”

My body stilled as soon as the word left my lips. Love. A word I hadn’t used in twelve years since I was six.

“Love?” Lars asked.

His question was like a bullet tearing through my heart. I could brush it off. Act cool like it was a slip because I was about to nut. He’d buy it because tons of guys our age said idiotic shit to get laid. But it would be a lie.

Instead, I kissed his shoulder and admitted the truth. “I’ve loved you from the moment I talked to you. Something drew me to you. That’s why this isn’t a onetime thing, Lars. I want this for as long as you’ll allow me to have it.”

My balls tightened, and my body stilled with the most mind-blowing orgasm I’d ever experienced.

Lars was the first person I’d ever fucked that I cared about. I’d heard people say sex was better when emotions were involved, and I would’ve said it was drivel before tonight. But after being with Lars, I understood it was an absolute truth.

I pulled out of Lars. “Don’t move.” Bending, I pulled his ass apart, enjoying how my cum slowly trickled from his hole. I grabbed his cock and delved my tongue into his asshole, tasting myself while bringing Lars to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he screamed as ropes of hot liquid coated my palm.

Gripping his hair, I lifted Lars, placed him on his back, and presented him with my cum-stained hand before sucking my fingers dry.

“Can I please have some?” Lars asked.

I wrapped my hand firmly around his throat, restricting his breath. He parted his lips, and I spat our combined cum into his mouth before crushing my lips to his.

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