Reasonable Doubt ✔ | Open Novella Contest 2020 | Complete

Twenty-Eight - Colt

"Goddamn," I heave, leaning my head against his shoulder.

I hear the smile in that husky voice. "Was it good for you?"

It was better than good. It was terrifying.

What the hell did I just do?

Letting him drop down like that, face-fucking him, making him swallow. It was like some sex-crazed demon took over. A bull in a china shop. All my carefully placed wards and lines smashed.

I'm despicable.

I was too caught up with being conflicted that I forgot about the HIV. In that moment, I didn't care about keeping him safe. I was too focused on feeling wanted, pleasured.

I should have stopped him, made sure he understood the implications. I should have –

"Earth to Colt." Alex taps my chest. "I see what you're doing. Stop it."

Framing his face, I search his gaze. "We can't – "

"We can." He insists, green burning almost neon with their intensity. "I want us. Together." He gestures at the bottle. "I've been taking them for a week. Same time. Every day. Just like you."

"You..."

"Why are you still fighting me?" He takes my hand from one side of his face, drags his teeth gently over the pad of my thumb. "Do you not want this anymore?"

I thread my fingers in his hair, run my knuckle over the scar splitting his lip. The one he got getting sucker-punched. Just because he was involved with me.

"I want this," I confess on a low breath. "So badly. But – "

"Then let me." He presses a gossamer kiss on my palm, the inside of my wrist. "Is hurting all you know how to do after seven years? So used to pain you're scared of anything else?"

I shudder against his teeth on my earlobe. He's right. I know he's right. I'm scared to feel again, scared of what it might do. There ain't many pieces of me left to put back together.

He leads me toward my mattress and threadbare sheets. "Let me make you feel good."

Our kisses this time are slow and exploratory. Fingers caressing, pressure soft. Alex's shirt joins mine on the floor, the gold cross like a brand against my skin.

I've seen him bare chested plenty. Now I take the time to admire the lean muscle and dark hair. Physically flawless, even outside the steel and cement of prison.

He gives me the same long, appreciative look. From the tears in my jeans to the rising sun tattoo. I've never felt more desired.

We lower together onto the material, mouths fused, starting to grow hungrier. How could he think I didn't want this?

"This okay?" He murmurs, shifting us so that he straddles my hips.

I palm his ass, grind him against my reforming erection. When he gasps, I do it again. When he groans, I grin.

I know he's worried about my ribs. It's sweet. I just need the spice to balance it.

We both shuck our pants and boxers. Alex descends on me once more, teeth marking trails down my chest. He comes to my nipple, laps, circles, and blows. The icy sensation makes me moan.

Sliding my hand between us, I palm his cock. It earns me a choked gasp, a sudden collapse. "Mierda." Another jagged groan before, "Do you have lube?"

I gesture at the milk crate. "Left side. With the condoms."

He disengages me to retrieve it, emits a deep chuckle. "If we're doing this, we're doing this right. Nothing held back."