Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men #9)(85)

Shit, this was bad.

“Colton,” I said very slowly. “Why don’t you even want to try a blow job? Every guy wants to experience a blow job.”

He just kept shaking his head, not looking at me. So I touched his cheek, and he melted, closing his eyes and sighing his defeat.

“Fine. Here’s the deal. I saw something once, and it put me off wanting to try them ever. It’s not a big deal. I just…I don’t want one. Okay?”

Yeah right. Now I knew it was a huge deal. And he still wouldn’t look at me. I started to freak out a little.

“What did you see that put you off blow jobs?”

He speared me with a quick irritated glance before looking away again and admitting, “A boy. He was just a kid.”

I nodded. That was a start; it didn’t tell me much and didn’t seem so bad, but I knew it had to be worse, so I asked, “How old was he?”

“Thirteen,” he whispered. “I was eight. But he was thirteen.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “So…what? You saw this thirteen-year-old boy get a blow job when you were eight?”

“No.” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “I mean, yes, but he didn’t want it. She was forcing him. He was crying and she—his mom—had him backed against this wall and—”

“Holy shit!” I screeched. “His mom? You saw a boy get molested by his mother when you were eight? What did you do?”

He pressed his hands to his temples. “Nothing. I…I didn’t do anything. I ran to my room and hid under the blankets in my bed. I didn’t tell anyone, I didn’t try to get help, I didn’t try to stop her. I just ran away and hid while he was just down the hall, getting—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” I soothed, grabbing his hands and kissing the palms. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“No. That’s the thing. It’s not f*cking okay. I didn’t help him. I never helped him, and that f*cker said he forgave me, like…like I actually deserved forgiveness, which I don’t. How could he possibly forgive me?”

“Maybe because you were only eight years old,” I suggested. “And you’re not the one who actually molested him.”

He looked up. His eyes were rimmed in red but he wasn’t crying. “Served me right that I’m the one who ended up with the nightmares. Not him.”

I smiled as I stroked his face, picking up pieces of his bangs and smoothing them where I wanted them to go. “But if you’d never had nightmares then you and I wouldn’t have had a reason to connect in the first place.”

His brown eyes shifted to me. “You’re right,” he admitted quietly. Then his hand found its way under my nightshirt and blindly smoothed its way up to where a major portion of my dream catcher was embedded. “I should get a tat of a rabbit’s foot and breath spray.”

I laughed. “A dream catcher would be prettier.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Probably.”

He looked so morose; I sifted my fingers through his hair again and kissed his ear before making up my mind. I was fixing my wounded man. Tonight.

“Can you do me a favor?” I asked.

He glanced up. “Anything.”

I bit my lip, hesitant, before I took the leap. Then I said, “Would you at least try to let me give you a blow job?”

When his features immediately withdrew, rejecting that idea, I held up a finger. “Just hear me out. I’m really f*cking pissed right now that some child-molesting whore traumatized you and gave you nightmares. And I would like nothing more than to give her the metaphorical finger, proving that she didn’t get the best of you, that you were strong enough to move past her filthy influence, and you can have a completely healthy sex life with blow jobs and any f*cking thing you want despite what she did. I want it so bad, I can taste it. So will you please just…”

I begged him with my eyes, and I swear a tinge of green flushed his skin. But after a moment, he nodded. “Okay.” He grabbed my wrist. “But you’ll stop if—”

“Of course,” I reassured him, cupping his face in my hands. “Baby, I just want to make you feel good and show you that she didn’t limit you in any way. If at any time, you don’t like a single thing I do, that’s it; it’ll be over. No questions asked or pushing to get you to try for more.”

His gaze swirled with unease, and he didn’t look excited at all about the prospect of getting his junk sucked, but he nodded, allowing me to continue.

Determined to rock his world, I grinned my thanks and crawled into his lap, grinding down on his cock with my core. He groaned as I peppered kisses along his jaw and neck. Clutching my hip, he announced, “I’m on board so far.”

I laughed and lavished his chest with kisses and licks and little nibbles. As I worked my way down, he gripped the sheets at his side. “Still liking what I’m feeling.”

When I reached his shorts, there was a nice bulge growing under the cloth. I traced it with my fingers, making him arch his hips up toward my touch before I grasped the hem of his underwear and peeled the cloth down slowly.

The man was ready for me. His cock was as big as I’d ever seen it and dripping out the end. I picked him up and wrapped my fingers around his warmth before licking his balls.