“Right. Okay. How much do you weigh?”
“One hundred and four pounds.”
“We need to get that up.” Dashiell unwraps the protein bar and steps between my legs. “What about eating every meal with me? Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Your place or mine, or even going out, but we eat every meal together. That way, we condition you to respond to your body’s hunger cues.
“Okay.” The sugar is getting me high, along with the attention. Having Dashiell’s lips two inches from mine makes me want to eat him.
“And if you refuse to eat, I’ll force you.”
I nod in agreement, thinking he’s talking about sex.
I finish the bar and wipe my lips with the back of my hand. Dashiell hands me the shake and makes sure I down all of it. I love it when he’s attentive like this. It makes me feel cherished and wanted, sentiments that were wholly absent from my childhood.
“I don’t want to take orders from one tyrant only to be controlled by the next one,” I tell him. I think my relationship boundaries are fucked up. I wouldn’t know healthy from dysfunctional if it hit me in the face.
“Hold on one second,” he says.
It looks like Dashiell jams something in the door, and when he comes back, he rips his shirt over his head, bringing his washboard stomach with its lower abdominal v-cut into plain view. Then he shoves me back against the mirror and his fingers wrap around my neck in a chokehold.
“Do you trust me, Sam?”
I try to swallow but his grip is too tight. I nod my head because I can’t find the words to speak.
“I would never hurt you,” he says as his grip tightens around my neck. “I could break you in two right now if I wanted. Snap you right in half.”
I watch a bead of sweat form and roll down his temple. I know what’s coming; a brutal blow job where he makes me drink his cum.
“But I’d never do that, Sam, because you and I are far from done. I’ll never let you go. It happened once, and it’s not going to happen again. And until you can prove to me that you can take care of yourself, I’m gonna have to do it for you.”
He shoves me back so that my head rests against the mirror behind me. Then he grabs my hips, pulling me forward until I’m slumped with my legs dangling over the counter.
“Help me get you out of this labyrinth,” he says as he wrenches down my leotard.
In the blink of an eye, I’m naked and he’s fondling my breasts, pulling my nipples into pinched points.
I try to rally my reserve, readying myself for his sinful whims, when he drops to the floor in front of me, and suddenly, I can feel his hot breath on my thighs. I sit up in surprise and he shoves me back.
“Lie back, Sam. Close your eyes.”
I do as I’m told, but my body is rigid and stiff. I feel like I’m on display in public and anybody could walk in. But then his tongue is on me and he’s licking and sucking. He flicks his tongue over my clit in lazy laps, and my hips urge my whole body forward. When I groan in response to his teasing, he plunges his tongue deep inside me, and my muscles squeeze in hungry desperation.
Dash’s hands rest on the middle of my inner thigh while he tongue-fucks me dizzy, teasing my clit with tongue thrashes every few seconds. Eventually, I’m spinning, and the ache between my legs grows deep and wide, and in my mind’s eye, I can focus on nothing besides the memory of his massive veiny erection and how good it felt to ride it.
“Dash, please fuck me,” I gasp. But I don’t for a second stop riding his face.
With his tongue deep inside me, I spiral and moan into the hardest orgasm of my life. He never stops lapping at my clit but replaces his tongue with a few fingers, which I buck into shamelessly as I come.
“Oh, my God,” I scream as I orgasm, his tongue a silken demon tantalizing my swollen clit. He pinches my nipples as I start to descend, which only sends me rising again, lost in waves of lusty pleasure.
When he finally pulls his hand away, his fingers shine, drenched in my arousal. He licks them clean in front of me while I pant and clutch the edge of the sink, trying to recover.
“That’s mine,” he says, pointing casually at my sex. He mirrors my gesture and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “No one else can touch you, and if they do, they’re as good as dead.”
Then Dashiell walks out of the bathroom casually, saying he’s late for class.
I’m completely fucking wrecked.