Far From Home: The Tribal Chief's Mate- a M/M fantasy romance

5- Payment

JACOB—

My words, said in horror at the way I'd tackled Srin and fucked him like an animal in heat— gods, I'd lost control completely— had the younger man tensing against me so quickly I was almost worried his muscles would be injured at it.

"Get," he began, his voice hard, cold-edged, and nearly emotionless. Devoid of anything but pure, unadulterated hatred and a rage that scared me. "Get off of me, Jacob. Now."

I threw myself back, wincing when my cock slipped too quickly from his ass. It was still semi-hard, and I knew the too-quick departure had to have hurt him. But he showed nothing, only sat up and pulled his shirt to him from where I'd thrown it. He ignored the copious amounts of cum that dripped out of his ass and onto the couch, but I saw it, and the little thrill that went through me at the sight had me feeling even more shame.

My actions could only have complicated the situation. I never should have touched him, his body and submission weren't mine to take, and now I couldn't give that submission, that trust, back. He was confused, hurting, lashing out, and I'd given in to those self-destructive tendencies.

I should have had more control, but he'd been so hurt. So confused. So utterly lost, and when he'd said he thought of me, through his years as a slave to evil men, something inside of me had snapped. Something dark and primal and angry screamed for me to take what I knew he wanted to give me. It screamed for me to show him what it was to be loved and pleasured and used for pleasure, without the degradation or the shame.

But I shouldn't have. It was wrong. I was not the man for him, and I knew that. And I'd taken him so roughly, as if I was no better than the men he'd been raped by his entire life.

Srin stood and grabbed his trousers, and I tried to reach him again, terrified I'd fucked up too far to fix what we had between us.

"Srin, I'm sorry, pl—"

"— It's alright, Chief," he sneered as he tied his trousers and began to move to the door. "I just usually take the payment beforehand, so be sure to leave it in my room— somewhere easy to find. And I'll expect it beforehand if you ever want to dirty your cock again."

Then he was gone, slamming the door behind him, and I was left staring at the pool of wet where we had coupled against the couch, wondering where the hell I could go from there.

SRIN'YETE—

I packed quickly. I didn't have much, just the clothes Jacob'd had made for me over the months I'd been living under his roof. I wouldn't need them, where I was going, but I felt like it was a little more cruel than I needed to be, to leave them behind as a reminder of the whore he'd dirtied himself with.

I'd done what he'd asked. I'd given life a chance, and it had done nothing but serve me more pain. Different kinds of pain, to be sure, but pain nonetheless.

Some people just weren't meant to live and be happy, and I had accepted I was one of them. Denying it had only prolonged my suffering. I hadn't been accepted into the tribe, I'd forced Jacob to fuck me when the idea had him disgusted, and I'd realized how very impossible it was for me to escape my past.

So I wouldn't try anymore. Because trying meant pain and I was so fucking sick of pain. So fucking done being strong.

So I'd go back and finish what I started four months before, and I'd thank the gods that I'd been given one thing in the four months of anguish: for just a moment, the briefest of breaths, I'd experienced true joy. Bliss. In Jacob's arms, I'd been free.

And I'd discovered what real sex, real pleasure and making love, felt like. I'd learned what it was meant to be, not the abomination the Monster made of it.

For that, I would be grateful Jacob had talked me off the ledge of the cliff those four months before.

It wouldn't happen again.