Forsaken Desires (The Deepest Desires 2)

chapter forty-seven

Knox

Six Weeks Later

“What time’s your appointment?”

“One,” I say, looking across the room where Aston is sitting on his bed. “You coming with me?”

“Yeah, of course I’ll go. How you feeling about it?”

“Fine. I don’t see any reason why he wouldn’t clear me. Maybe I can even talk him into removing this damn thing early,” I grumble, holding my casted arm in the air. I’m more than ready to have the use of both arms again. Technically, I’m not supposed to get it off until next week, but since I’m already going to be there, maybe I can work some charm.

“Don’t hold your breath, bro.” He laughs.

It’s been seven long fucking weeks since my dad beat me bad enough to put me in the hospital. Somehow it feels like it’s dragged on forever while also feeling like it’s flown by in the blink of an eye. My check-up is today to make sure everything is healing correctly. The bruising went away weeks ago, my nose doesn’t look jacked up anymore, my ribs are as good as new, and the migraines from my head injury have finally started to dissipate.

Haven’t been able to drink, smoke weed, or have sex, though, so I’m going fucking crazy. Aston annoyingly follows the rules and has barely touched me, aside from hand jobs and head, but that was only once.

Walking up to where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, weaving my fingers through his hair, I yank his head back so he’s looking right into my eyes. “Let’s see how much you’re laughing when I fuck the shit out of your ass later, Walker.” Before he can retort, my lips crash down on his, tongue diving into his mouth. He tastes like my bubblegum and tobacco.

He grabs onto my hips, bringing me closer to him, hand trailing down to squeeze my ass. My cock perks up instantly, loving where this is going. Ripping my lips away, I look down at him as he kneads my ass cheek. His neck and face are flushed, hair disheveled because of me, and his cock is straining against his gray sweatpants.

Smirking devilishly, I reach down to run my fingers underneath my waistband, grabbing my stiff cock and pulling it out. Biting my lip, I stroke myself from the root all the way to my glistening tip, eyes never leaving Aston’s. “You’re gonna suck it.”

“Is that right, Knoxy boy?” he asks, lips pulled into a sexy grin.

“Mmhm. Open up.”

A zap of pleasure shoots straight to my nuts when he listens, mouth dropping open, tongue sticking out. Sliding my cock across his tongue, my eyes roll back from the pleasure. Fuck, it’s been too goddamn long. He keeps his hot, wet mouth open while I shove myself farther into his throat, and only then does he close his mouth and suck. His dark, hungry eyes stay on me, reaching up to wrap his hot, calloused palm around my length, hollowing his cheeks to suck me harder.

“Fuck, Aston. Yes.”

His eyes glimmer as he smiles around my cock before picking up the pace, utterly devouring me whole. His head bobs up and down, hand following the same rhythm. I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again—his mouth is fucking godlike. His tongue curls around the underside of me, twirling around the tip, before taking me deep into his throat.

“You like that, baby? Like choking on my cock?”

“Mmmhm,” he incoherently mumbles, eyes rolling back. Reaching down with his free hand, he palms himself over his pants.

Fisting his short strands, holding him in place, I start roughly fucking his face. He gags so beautifully, eyes watering, spit dripping out the sides of his mouth, taking everything he’s given and fucking loving it.

“Fuck, fuck!” I sputter. “You suck my cock so… fucking good.” He moans around my length, vibrations shooting through my dick and into my balls. Tightening my grip on his hair as my balls draw up, my breathing coming out in heavy pants. “I’m gonna feed you my cum. You’re gonna drink it all up and say thank you, like the filthy cum slut you are, aren’t you?”

His heavily lidded, wet eyes widen, brows drawing tightly together at my dirty talk, and he moans louder, nodding his head.

“Fuck, that’s right. You fucking love this.” The warm, tingling sensation starts low in my spine, working its way up my back, into my balls, and up through my shaft. My load blows into his mouth in thick spurts. “Oh, fuck. Shit, Aston. Yes, fuck. Yes!” Dropping my head back on my shoulders, I let out a deep throaty groan as I empty myself fully down his throat.

Holding onto his shoulder while I catch my breath, I watch as he pulls his lips off my cock. Dark, glassy eyes look up at me as he wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb before pushing the finger into his mouth, sucking it clean.

I wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze, pulling him to stand in front of me. A mischievous grin slides across his face as our lips crash together in a messy, hungry kiss. His tongue dives into my mouth, tangling with mine, and I groan when I taste myself on him.

Dropping to my knees, I reach for his waistband, pulling his sweats down—or attempting to. His hand comes down on mine, trying to stop me. “No, Knox. You can’t.”

In addition to not touching me very often while I’ve been healing, he also isn’t letting me touch him at all. My hands itch to wrap around his hard, hot length, my mouth is dying to swallow him up, and he won’t fucking let me.

“Aston, it’s fine,” I spit out, glaring up at him.

“It’s not. What if I hurt you or make something worse?”

“Aston, my fucking mouth isn’t broken. I’m sucking your fucking dick right now. Move your fucking hand.”

The look I’m giving him must indicate that I’m not backing down, because after a few moments of looking at me, he finally sighs and moves his hand. “You’re the most stubborn motherfucker I have ever met.”

“You’ll get over it in about fifteen seconds. Now shut up and let me have my fun.” My hand resumes pulling his sweats down, rather awkwardly, since I’m still fucking one-handed. His cock has been hard as steel since before he sucked me off, and as soon as it springs free, my tongue darts out to lick the arousal off his tip. My taste buds sing with the flavor of him, my mouth instantly watering.

Running the flat of my tongue along the underside from base to tip, he hisses through gritted teeth, both hands clenching and unclenching beside me. Closing my mouth around him, I twirl my tongue around the tip teasingly before swallowing him up. The gasp that flies from his lips is loud, his hand finally coming to grip my hair.

He acts like I’m going to fucking break, and it drives me nuts. While I appreciate him being gentle while I was healing, I’m better now, wanting nothing more than for him to manhandle me and fucking own me.

“Fu-uck, Knox.”

His moans and shaky voice send a shiver down my spine as I grab his balls, rolling and tugging on them in my palm. The heavy feel of him on my tongue, the clean, manly taste of him in my mouth, being able to bring him to this place of euphoria, is something I’ve missed so much.

Intimacy with Aston is otherworldly. Spiritual. I’ve never experienced anything like it. He brings out a side of me I didn’t know existed.

“Fucking hell, Knox. Your tongue, your mouth, fuck.” His hips are rocking against my face as he shoves his cock deeper into my throat. My eyes roll back at the sheer fullness of him in my mouth. The gagging and slurping noises coming out of me are wickedly filthy, and the way his mouth is dropped open, panting, and his dark eclipsed eyes are watching me, it all has my cock thickening in my pants again.

“I’m gonna come, baby,” he moans, dark brows pinched together, beads of sweat lining his forehead. “Fuck, don’t stop.” He fists my hair tight, thrusting into my mouth a few more times before his body stills, cock pulsing, cum shooting down my throat. The groan coming out of him is low and sounds deep from within his chest, his hand in my hair unrelenting while his other hand grips my shoulder painfully.

Pulling out of my mouth, he puts himself back in his pants as I stand up in front of him. Stepping up, he places a chaste kiss on my lips—soft, gentle, appreciative. We’ve always been able to speak so much louder with our bodies than we can with words to each other, and now is no different.

“Love you, Knoxy.”

Smiling against his lips, I say, “Love you, JT.”

******

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you? I don’t mind.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” I say, looking up to meet Aston’s concerned gaze. “I need to do this myself. I appreciate the offer, though.”

My twenty-first birthday is next week, and with that comes a trust fund. I’m meeting with my parents’ lawyer and my mom this afternoon to sign all the paperwork. The last time I saw my mom was six weeks ago, at my father’s court hearing. Honestly, I’m surprised she could even be bothered to show up at all.

Aston’s dad fought hard for me in court. He wanted to make an example out of my dad, someone who is wealthy and important. He ended up getting sentenced to four years in prison for assault in the second degree. My mother had the audacity to cry in court, as if she gives a single shit about him—or me, for that matter. It’s all about her fucking image.

I’m thankful as fuck for the timing of this trust fund, otherwise I don’t know how I’d pay for college. My parents were paying for it, but my mom told me at court that they wouldn’t be doing so anymore. Not that I’d want them to anyway. I’d honestly prefer to just sever ties all together with both of them.

“Want me to at least drive you?” With the cast still on for another few days, the damn doctor refusing to take it off at my appointment the other day, I’m not able to drive. Another reason I can’t fucking wait for this thing to be sawed off. Relying on him or Uber drivers is beyond fucking annoying.

“It’ll probably take at least an hour. I can just Uber. I don’t want you waiting for me that long.”

“I don’t mind. Really. I’ll bring my sketch pad and draw in the car. Let me drive you.”

“Yeah, okay. Thank you. I’m sorry you have to be my chauffeur everywhere.”

“Hey,” he says, placing a kiss on my forehead. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I enjoy taking you places and being with you.” I can’t help but smile at that. He’s never once made me feel like an inconvenience throughout all of this.

“Thank you. Let’s go before we hit traffic.”

The ride to the lawyer’s office takes about thirty minutes. Neither of us say much the entire way. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about how this was going to go. Not the trust fund itself—because that’s a sure thing; I just need to sign the papers—but about the confrontation with my mom.

Aston parks the BMW in front of the law office. He turns the engine off, leaving the stereo playing, turning to face me. “You sure you don’t want me to come inside?”

“Um, actually, yeah. Can you?” Rubbing my sweaty palms on my jeans, I look over at him.

“Yup,” he says, turning the car all the way off and removing his seatbelt. “Let’s go, babe.” My pulse is racing as I get out. Rounding the front of the car, Aston takes my hand. “It’ll be okay. I promise.” His ability to calm my nerves is astounding.

As we walk into the building, it occurs to me that we’ve never held hands in front of others before. Somehow, this one simple act grounds me, flooding my body with warmth. Right before we make it to the reception desk, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can do this.

“Hi, do you have an appointment?” the snooty receptionist with the nasally voice asks. Her dark brown hair is in a ponytail so high, she looks like she belongs in Bring It On and her blazer is about two sizes too small, probably on purpose to accentuate her tits in hopes of snagging some dumb, rich fuck to be her sugar daddy.

“Yup. Knox Finnegan.”

Her nails tap, tap, tap on her keyboard and it makes me want to throw the fucking thing across the room. Seriously, how do women not annoy themselves with those long ass fucking nails? Aston squeezes my hand, and when I look over at him, he mouths, “You okay?” My nerves must be showing, based on the way his brows are pulled together and his eyes roam the features of my face slowly. Nodding at his question, I offer him a smile, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. It’s the best I can do right now.

“Okay,” Nasally Nancy says. “Please take a seat. Mr. Jefferies will be out to grab you shortly.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, turning and making my way to the seating area. This office is pretentious as fuck. The mauve colored furniture, that looks like it’s in never been used condition, feels like real leather, everything is in perfect order, including the magazines—not a single thing out of place—and there are dozens of old, thick law journals on the shelves surrounding the room.

Not even five minutes after we sit down, a man who looks to be in his early fifties comes out, black Armani tailored suit on and a thick salt and pepper beard covering his face. “Mr. Finnegan?” he says, looking between the two of us.

“Yup, that’s me.” We both get up, making our way over to him. He shakes my hand first, then Aston’s. “This is Aston, my, uh,” I say, looking over at him. “My boyfriend.” That’s the first time I’ve ever said that out loud, and a flutter makes its way to my gut.

Glancing over at Aston, his neck and cheeks are flushed pink, and he’s chewing the inside of his cheek, trying—but failing—to hide a smile. Our eyes meet, and now it’s my turn to try and hide a goofy smile. Fucking hell, I need to get it together.

“Nice to meet you both. Right this way, Denise is already here.”

He leads us down a long hallway before opening the last door on the left. The room is decently sized, with a long table in the middle with at least ten chairs surrounding it. A water cooler sits in the corner, and the wall opposite of the door is all windows. Aston and I take our seats in the two chairs closest to us at the table.

My mother is sitting across from us. She’s wearing a scowl on her face as she looks from Aston to me. “Who is this?” she asks, not hiding the distaste from her voice.

“This is Aston.”

“So, it’s true?”

“Is what true, Mom?”

“You’re gay?” She whispers the word, clutching her metaphorical pearls.

My lip curls into a grin as I peer over at him. “For him? Very much so.”

Aston coughs to hide his laugh while my mom gasps like I just told her I sold half a kidney for some beef jerky. The attorney comes and sits at the head of the table, hands clasped together in front of him. “Alright, shall we get started, folks?”

He explains the process, going over each document, and having us sign. The whole thing takes about thirty minutes from start to finish. Once we’re all done, he shakes our hands and excuses himself, leaving Aston and I in the room with my mother.

We all remain quiet for a few minutes, the room thick with tension. My mom’s the first one to speak, and my blood boils at her words. “Well, I hope you’re really happy with yourself, Knox. Look at what you’ve put our family through.”

Aston stiffens beside me, and I can only snort. “What I put our family through? What about what dad put me through?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You have always enjoyed egging your father on, getting the last word, and pissing him off. What did you expect was going to happen when you told him you were a goddamn faggot?”

Her words make me wince before I can school my features. In all the years I listened to my dad be a homophobic prick, I’ve never heard her use language like that, and it being directed at me stings more than I’d like to admit.

“You’re un-fucking-believable, Mom. You know that? He’s treated you like fucking garbage for years—talked down to you, pushed you around, fucking cheated on you, for Christ’s sake—and you’re still standing up for him. I don’t fucking get it. What about me? What about me, Mom?”

“What do you mean, what about you?” She actually looks confused by this, and I shake my head.

“Don’t I fucking matter?” I ask, pushing my chair back and standing, hand rested on the table. “I’m your goddamn son, your only child, Mom. You have never once stood up for me, protected me from him. Never once put me first.”

“Knox, you’ve always been so dramatic. Your father has never done anything you couldn’t handle.”

“Never done anything I can’t handle? Mom, he fucking hired a hooker to take my virginity to ‘fuck the gay out of me,’ burned me with cigarettes numerous fucking times if I got aroused watching gay porn, and he just beat my ass so hard that I ended up in the goddamn hospital for days with several serious fucking injuries. All that and the countless other times he’s hit me for no goddamn reason. It doesn’t fucking matter if I can fucking handle it. No child should have to go through that at the hand of their fucking parent!”

I’m aware I’m yelling, but I’m afraid if I speak normally, I’ll end up breaking down and crying. The backs of my eyes already burn with the promise of tears and my throat is tight, clogged with emotion. I refuse to break down in front of her.

She has the audacity to roll her fucking eyes. “You already got him sent to prison, Knox. What fucking more do you want?”

“You know what?” I say, laughing dryly. “From you? Nothing. I don’t want shit from you or him ever again. You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother. You never should’ve had a child because all you care about is yourself and what the other rich bitches think of you. I lived my entire life in fear, hiding who I was from my parents. That’s done. You’re both fucking dead to me. Have a nice life, Denise. Or don’t. Better yet, have the fucking life you deserve.”

Her mouth drops, her eyes are wide. She doesn’t say anything, and I don’t really care to stay and hear what she has to say anyway. Aston stands and we make our way out of the conference room and out of the building. Once we get into the car, I realize my hands are shaking and hot tears are streaming down my face. Fuck.

“Hey,” he says soothingly, reaching over and taking my hand. “What you did just now was brave as hell and absolutely fucking necessary. You don’t need people like that in your life, blood or not, and they certainly don’t deserve someone like you in their pathetic lives. You did the right thing.”

“Thank you for coming with me. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Yes, you could’ve. But I’ll always be there.”