My hands tremble as I unbutton his torn pants, then shimmy them down his legs, revealing his lack of boxers underneath. My attention zeroes in on his legs. There are more bruises, accompanied by what looks like road rash on his thighs and shins.
“Oh, baby,” I whine softly.
This is my fault. All because I’m selfish and wanted to be with him and some nameless person caught me in the act.
I grab the bowl of warm water, then wring out the washcloth and dab his face, cleaning off the smears of blood to reveal thecuts. They aren’t deep gashes. Nothing to go to the emergency room over.
Ryder doesn’t open his eyes as I clean him. His chest moves up and down with steady breaths.
He’s breathing. He’s fine. He’s not going to die.
I swipe away the tears blurring my vision and return to cleaning off the blood on his neck, then his chest and stomach. The whole time, I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from confessing everything to him, even in his unconscious state.
Because after I clean him up and make sure he’ll be okay, I have to leave. I have to end things with him. I don’t want him to die. Especially not because of me.
My hands tremble as I rinse the rag in the bowl of water that now has a pink hue to it. I wring it out, then continue cleaning him.
My gaze flicks to Ryder’s face, checking if he’s woken up in the time I’ve been tending to him. His dark eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks. His full, pierced lips tempt me to kiss him. He’s so beautiful, even while asleep. The tension in his features slackens, and he appears younger and less stressed.
I lose the inner battle to keep quiet. “I’m so sorry, Ryder,” I whisper. “This is all my fault. I promise I’ll make it right.”
I duck my head and apply ointment to Ryder’s cuts and road rashes. I look over his naked body one last time, intending on leaving afterward. Everyone is asleep and won’t catch me as I pack my bags. I may not have a bunch of money saved, but there’s enough for me to survive off of as I travel.
A smear of pink on Ryder’s ball sack catches my attention. I lean closer and check the area, making sure I didn’t miss any cuts. My eyebrows pinch together. Maybe droplets of water slid down his body while I cleaned him and I didn’t notice. I grab the washcloth again and reach out, then stop mid-way when an idea pops into my head.
It’s not right.
My gaze flicks back to Ryder’s face, ensuring he’s still asleep before I do something heinous.
He’s passed out.
I won’t see him after this. I’ll have to cut all ties with my old life and pray Dad and Justin won’t find me, because I know they’ll hunt me down and drag me back into this life. The unknown sender is watching me as well, and if I’m around Ryder after being dragged back home, I’ll be tempted to start our relationship again. This person will keep their promise, and I can’t have that. I love Ryder too much.
It’s blood; it’s unsanitary.
But I want to touch him one last time, even if he’s passed out.
Shaking away the nervous thoughts, I ease the bowl of water and cloth back onto the nightstand before I settle between his legs again. Warning bells go off in my head, and I can practically see the guy from the TikTok videos waving a large red flag as he remarks on how I’m making him more nervous than a salmon in a bear hug.
I lean in and circle the base of Ryder’s flaccid cock with my fingers, holding the appendage while I swipe my tongue up his balls to clean off the blood.
A small moan escapes me at the coppery flavor. I thought I’d hate the taste, but it’s not horrible. Musk and the salt of his skin burst on my tastebuds. I suck his left ball into my mouth and tongue the leathery skin, too lost in the moment to care that I’m doing this while Ryder is passed out.
His cock twitches and hardens in my palm.
Ryder will hate me if he ever finds out about this. Maybe it’ll help him move on from me.
My fingers tighten around his shaft, and I pump my fist up and down in slow strokes. I suck his right testicle into mymouth, showing it the same attention. Ryder’s low groan spurs me on. His ball sack pops out of my mouth as I lean back and stare at his cock, a bead of pre-cum leaking from the pierced hole.
My mouth waters as I watch the droplet grow in size as I continue working his shaft. With a soft groan, I lean down and lick the underside of his shaft, all the way to the tip, where I take him past my lips.
Ryder shallowly thrusts his hips, forcing more of his dick into my salivating mouth. I gag as he hits the back of my throat, but I don’t move away. My clit pulses like a heartbeat, demanding attention and relief. I stick my hand down my shorts and rub the sensitive nub in quick circles.
Ryder shifts, and I flinch as his hand winds through my hair. He holds me in place, his thrusts increasing in roughness and bordering on desperation.
I raise my watery gaze to his face and find his eyes still closed. His dark eyebrows pinch together, and his pierced lips part as he fucks my face.
Heat flushes my cheeks as my orgasm builds. My eyes roll into the back of my head as I get close, but I hold back. I want Ryder to come first.
