Fable of Happiness (Fable 1)

My heart pounded so hard, I heard it in my ears, I felt it in my veins. I swore he could hear its rapid rhythm, slamming drums against the basement walls.

Suddenly, he shot to his feet.

His bare toes planted onto the damp concrete, kicking away his mostly empty plate without thought. Taking two steps toward me, he stood over me. Towered above me as he reached down with his left hand and dug strong fingers through my leaf-tangled hair.

Cupping the back of my head, he stared into me as if he was seconds away from shattering. With our eyes knotted, he used his right hand to work the button and zipper of his slacks.

He fumbled and yanked, splaying the front of his trousers to reveal the bareness of his cock. No underwear. No modesty. The hard length of his arousal sprang upward as his unfastened slacks fell to his ankles.

His fingers dug deeper into my hair, asking for something.

I waited for him to jerk me forward. For him to fist himself and shove the thickness past my lips.

But he did neither of those things.

He trembled harder, his cock weeping pre-cum, his balls drawn up so tight they were almost invisible in the dark thicket of hair.

His lips drew back in a snarl, baring his teeth as a growl echoed in his belly.

I waited for instruction.

I needed to be told what to do.

Didn’t he get that? I wouldn’t willingly touch him. I couldn’t. He had to make me do this. He had to release me from the shame of using sex for longevity.

His right hand fisted by his side, swinging slightly in time to his raging heartbeat. His drummed as fast and as heavy as mine, a chaotic song that made the cell pulse around us. Made the air spark with danger and longing.

He breathed hard. He groaned low in his throat. His hips rocked in time to his quaking. And still, he didn’t touch himself or drag my mouth to his cock.

Why?

What is he waiting for?

Was this all a challenge to him? I’d given myself over to him, but he’d still found a way to win. To make me bow to his demands. To rip that fight from me even while I’d done my best to avoid it.

His right hand opened and closed by his thigh as his cock twitched with another bead of pre-cum. His jaw worked as he clenched his teeth, and his fingers closed around my hair, pulling painfully.

“Your choice.” He bit out each word. “Live or die.”

My knees dug into the cold concrete as my palms turned damp with fear. The thought of touching him, licking him, sucking him made my empty stomach flip over with acid. It made my mouth water for anything else but him.

He pulled me closer, his slacks rustling on the floor.

That was his only instruction. His only guidance. Not once did he touch himself. Not once did he even acknowledge the hard thickness throbbing between his legs.

My baby brother popped into my head.

An awful moment to think of my darling sibling but a potent reminder of why I’d made the offer in the first place. I wanted to see Josh again. I wanted to joke with him. Hug him. Let him scold me for ever going out of reception and finding a hidden house that was never meant to be found.

I couldn’t die like our father. I couldn’t just disappear.

I have to live.

My eyes snapped up to his, then dropped to his impressive erection. I’d pleasured only two other men this way, and each time, I’d despised it. They’d shoved in too deep and come down my throat without warning. I’d felt used and dirty and unappreciated.

And somehow, even with this monster looming over me, using my life as a noose to dictate forced pleasuring, I felt more wanted than any other encounter.

I knew I was beautiful to him.

I knew I was everything he wanted in that moment.

I knew I had the power to shatter his world with just a single touch. One touch on his cock and he would break. That wasn’t a secret he could hide. His stark confession blazed across his face with a thirst that made me wet despite my hatred.

One touch.

One touch and I could be free.

Sucking in a harsh breath, giving myself over to the galloping beats of my heart, I swooped forward and wrapped my fingers around his hot erection. Not letting myself think, I opened my lips and sank his heat onto my tongue.

And

Everything

Changed.

He crumpled over me.

He let out a bone-aching grunt.

He stumbled and steadied himself, using me as support as his entire body became mine.

I was the one submitting, but somehow, he became my prisoner.

A crest of agonizing heat rushed through me, arching through my blood and pooling in my belly. My core clenched around nothing, drunk on his lust, becoming infected by his hunger.