Page 65 of Rent: Paid in Full
I don’t ever want it to end. I don’t. I can’t stand the thought. If I was with anyone but Ryan right now, I wouldn’t let it end. I’d stay like this, teasing and tormenting until he passed out. I can’t do that now though. I can’t because it’s him. I feel his need like it’s my own. It’s hot and omnipresent. It’s everywhere. Every cell is whining, asking, begging. There’s need everywhere.
I let go of him, and he quickly rolls out of my grip onto his belly and then onto his hands and knees. He arches his back impossibly hard, spreading his legs and showing me his pretty, freshly fucked hole. He grinds it against me, rubbing velvety hot skin against my aching erection. My vision blurs out, but I hold firm.
All night.
I have all night.
We have all night.
Then he looks back at me, dark hair tumbling into his eyes, and says, “Please, Miller.” His voice is hoarse. Layers and layers of him have been stripped back. All his bullshit lies on the floor, discarded like our scattered clothes. “Please, Miller. Show me the stars.”
Turns out, we don’t have all night.
All we have is now.
I thrust into him hard, filling him completely. My own cry is as raw and animalistic as his. He jolts forward, wincing and groaning each time I fuck him but fucking me back just as hard as I’m fucking him.
“Grab the headboard.” It’s a warning. A foretelling. A notice that I’m all but lost. “Hold onto it hard, baby. You’re going to need it.”
His delts and traps flex as he spreads his arms and takes the headboard in both hands, holding on to it like a man giving thanks. My fingers dig into his hips, pinching his skin, gratified but unsated by the feeling. It feels good, but mainly, it feels like more. Everything feels like more. I slam my cock into him.
It turns out that now is enough.
Now is everything.
Now is all I’ll ever need.
The world is molasses. Runny and warm. Sweaty and heavy. Great big folds of sweet, sticky liquid drizzled all over me.
No.
No, that might be Ryan.
He has an arm and most of his body thrown over me and his face is buried in my neck. Now and again, his tongue flicks out and he tastes my skin. He’s making soft little sounds. Little hums or grunts, depending on the whim of the breath that releases them.
I melt into him. Or I let him melt into me. I can’t tell which.
I’m dimly aware that I’m talking. Asking him questions, and when he replies with a sleepy “Mm,” I ask him another, or I answer my own question. I’ve talked in circles about his body and what I like about it. I’ve touched on how rude he is and what it does to me. I think I might have said something about how much it turns me on when he’s mean, but I’m not sure about that. I know I’ve told him I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want him. I’ve told him that over and over.
“Homoromantic,” I say several times. Mulling it over, relishing the way the word feels in my mouth. “I think I’m homoromantic. I think I only fall in love with men.” I pull him closer and hold him so tightly that I hear his ribcage adjust. He melts into me a little more. A little deeper. “No, scratch that. I’mRyromantic. That’s what I am. I must be ‘cause I’ve never felt like this about anyone else. I’ve never lo—”
His hand clamps onto my mouth, silencing me brusquely, muffling the words I was saying before they had a chance to become his reality.
“Don’t say that,” he says.
A book has been closed. The jarring sound of pages snapping shut sends a jolt through me. A chapter has ended. A spell has been broken. I’ve been treading water in the endless ripples of Ryan’s eyes for hours. Now, I find myself on my knees. Spat out. Cold and confused.
He extricates himself from me, disentangling his legs and then his arms.
“I gotta go,” he mumbles as he stumbles to the bathroom. “Need a shower.”
For the first time, I don’t love the rejection. It doesn’t do a thing for me. There’s no heat, no excitement. Just a rip. A tear that makes my eyes water.
“You’re wasting your time,” I call after him. “You can’t wash a night like tonight off you, Ryan.”
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Ryan