Chapter Twenty-One (!)

(!) = smut warning; some jerking and slurping at the end is all 🤭 you can skip if you don't feel comfortable, nothing important to the plot happens during this

Y'all why did you let me publish this when it was unfinished and not one person said a damn thing 😭😭 fake!! 👎🏽👎🏽

-

Kian

When I wake, I feel as though I had been hit by a truck and that same truck is sitting on top of me. There's an odd ache all over me except it hurts inside. Not like a stomach ache or a headache. It feels as though something inside of me - like my soul - was taken out, beaten and burned, and then placed back inside. My heart feels too heavy in my chest and the pain makes me want to go back to sleep.

I can't, though, because as soon as I feel myself drifting off, I hear the click of a door. I sniff the air which causes me to take a huge gulp of air instead as if I hadn't been breathing. Filling my lungs with air is both painful and relieving. It feels as though I haven't breathed fully in so long. Letting my chest fall flat is what hurts the most and I release a low groan as I press myself deeper into the bed.

"You're awake," I hear someone say. I don't recognize the voice but I can't force myself to open my eyes either.

"Being rejected by an alpha and surviving as an omega is one big feat," the unknown person says. I can feel them next to me. Their voice is deep and they sound much older. "Oh Alpha Arron swore to the moons that you wanted this, I'd ask you if that's true but it seems you're busy playing sleep."

I crack open one eye and meet a pair of small blue ones. They belong to an old man with really white hair and a long mustache that falls into his bushy beard. He's wearing a white coat, indicating that he's a theta. On the breast, the coat says Dr. Minton Edkard.

"He rises!" the theta jokes as a warm smile spreads across his chubby face. "How are you feeling, son?"

"T-Terrible," I manage as I try to sit up in my bed. It hurts so bad.

"I figure, good thing the rejection didn't kill you," the theta says as he shakes his head. "I've witnessed many deaths and werewolves-turned-rogue because of rejection. You are simply a rarity and a lucky one for coming out unharmed - maybe a few scratches on your soul, but unharmed nonetheless."

"I-" I clear my throat, trying to find my voice. It feels like I've been punched in the throat. "I wanted to reject him."

The theta nods again. "So Alpha Arron said. Oh! I completely forgot I'm Dr. Edkard, I'm not a theta in this pack, I retired here, but they seemed to not have any thetas specializing in Rejection Healing so- here I am!"

"When will this feeling go away?" I ask, resting my head back against the pillow.

It hurts in the most weird way possible and suddenly, I feel like I might vomit and pull my hair out at the same time. Maybe I'm going insane. Bridger told me that nothing should happen, but he was wrong and now I'm going insane. It'll be easy for me to go rogue since I don't have a wolf. I should have thought this rejection out instead of just rushing through things. I'm sure Arron and I could have just existed as fated mates but not with each other. We were doing it fine before all of this.

"Since you're talking and all your vitals are fine - besides some high blood pressure but nothing a good diet, stress relief, and some medicine can't fix, you should get that checked - can you just tell me your name and why the hell you decided to reject an alpha?"

This man talks so much. He's not annoying by any means. His positive attitude and fat belly tell me that he'd be great at telling stories and giving hugs; he seems like a nice, over-energetic grandpa. Thinking about hugs makes me want Bridger and wonder where he is, if he's here. I hope he doesn't feel bad that I'm in the clinic now. He did tell me nothing would happen and I know that he might feel guilty now.

"Kian," I answer, "Kian Calter."

It feels wrong now, to say that last name. But I don't have any other name to put after my first. I wonder if I can change my last name, and pick something nice that would fit my name better and not carry so much weight. It was a big deal in my old pack to have a last name; it meant protection from others. Only the Calters could have me, hurt me, use me, no one else in the pack. But I don't want Calter after my name anymore. I don't want anything to do with them.

"I rejected him because...the Goddess made a mistake," I say carefully, hoping that he wouldn't get offended and suddenly attack me. He may be old and nice, but he's still a theta nonetheless. They were never nice in my old pack. They were just as evil as the rest, if not more. Mika's former owner is a theta and that man is sick.

Dr. Edkard only looks at me with an expression that reads understanding. He slowly nods his head while humming.

"She does that from time to time," he said, "one important thing to remember about ol' Goddess is that she is just like us - we're not perfect."

"I think she hates me," I say quietly and mostly to myself. It's true, though. All the stuff I've been through is evidence. The Goddess who, according to all the books, created omegas from pieces of herself and to be 'Her Chosen Ones' hates me and all the others. Why else would she allow all of this to happen and then give me a mate who doesn't want me and allow me to be cared for by someone who could have been my mate?

It's unfair. The Goddess...their Goddess is unfair and full of hate. She must laugh every time an omega is killed.

Dr. Edkard places his large, beefy hand atop mine. I stare at his blemished skin, at the hairs growing on his knuckles, his yellowish fingernails.

"It's okay to feel that way. Maybe She does hate you, who knows?" he says, "and you can hate Her too for the rest of your life. It's all up to you, son. She has bigger things to worry about."

He pats my hand before moving his hand back to his coat pockets. "It seems you're all good to go. You gave the beta quite a fright, I feared I'd have to get a room for him before he had a heart attack. I'll go get him for you and an iota will be in to give you some treatment options."

I watch him leave. I relax deeper into the pillows, wishing I was in Bridger's bed instead. His bed is much softer and more comfortable than this hard, hospital bed. His pillows are bigger and support weight better. My eyes widen when I realize how much of a complainer I'm being. Have I become so privileged in the almost two months that I've been here?

And what about Peyton? He is probably sleeping on a filthy floor without so much as a blanket yet here I am complaining and comparing one bed to another. It dawns on me now that I haven't even thought much about Peyton despite me doing most of this for him. His name is always in the back of my mind but shouldn't it be in the front? Shouldn't I be occupied with wanting to save him instead of all of this?

How can I just forget about him?

I don't even notice Bridger walk in until his large hand comes into my view and rests on my knee. My eyes trail up to his concerned green ones.

"I miss Peyton," is all I can say. I can't tell him that I was foolish for rejecting Arron or that I'm selfish for forgetting Peyton. He'd deny it all and try to convince me that I'm not a bad person.

But I am a bad person in my own right. Maybe not as bad as Jason or his father; maybe not as bad as Arron. And this must be why the goddess hates so me so much. Because she made me foolish and selfish.

I watch guilt take over Bridger's face as he sits down beside my legs.

"I'm a bad person," I say even though I just told myself not to.

His eyes widen and he tries to stop me but I just shake my head.

"I forgot about Peyton."

"You didn't forget about him," Bridger argues.

"I haven't thought about him at all."

"You haven't had time to."

Which is even worse, I want to argue. I can imagine all the pain Peyton is going through now, all the regret he must be feeling but goddess only knows what he's actually going through. For all I know he could be dead. They could have tortured him to death as soon as they reached the pack.

And will I ever know?

We can't finish our conversation because an iota walks in. She's much younger than Dr. Edkard and much more preppy too. She lists different treatments for people who survive mate rejections. She encourages me to surround myself with loved ones and to go to therapy when I get the chance. She explains different medications that I don't understand and don't really need to since I don't want medication before asking if I have questions. I tell her no and she works on my discharge papers. She returns with them just a few minutes afterward.

"Come on, let's leave," Bridger suggests, "how are you feeling?"

The weight of Peyton's possible death outweighs the pain from the rejection. It's hard to breathe but I manage, taking in a large gulp of air and forcing myself to lean forward from the pillows. I have to try to be strong for Peyton, I really do. Maybe he isn't dead and I will find him and he will forgive me for forgetting about him. He'll forgive me and praise me for being strong without him, for not needing him.

But I really, really need him. He's my best friend and the closest I've ever had to a real, loving family.

"I feel...heavy," I say. Heavy from a lot of things. There's so much weighing me down. I just want to lie down and sleep forever. But I can't.

"Do you need help up?"

I shake my head. I force myself up and move my legs to the edge of the bed. I release air I didn't know I was holding on to. Bridger moves from blocking my legs and I stand on weak legs. He holds his arm out and I hold it to steady myself, blinking away the black dots. I feel like the world is trying to pull me back down and I have to fight to stand against its force.

"I'm sorry for telling you that nothing would happen," Bridger apologizes, "I talk a lot when I care about someone, sometimes without thinking."

I look up at him and see his guilty expression. He cares about me?

"You didn't know," I say, "it's okay, I'm...at least okay."

He offers me a smile and I try to send one back. I don't know how convincing it is but Bridger doesn't try to get me to talk which I'm thankful for. I love talking to Bridger and having him give me advice or push my bad thoughts in the right direction. But I also know that I need to teach myself how to do it. Bridger won't always be here. Which makes our relationship all the more confusing.

I look up to Bridger. "Bridger...are we a couple now?"

His eyes widen a bit. The corners of his mouth raise and I think I know the answer before he says it.

"Do you want to be a couple?"

"What happens when I leave?"

"We'll...we'll cross that bridge when we get there, for now, let's just try to keep peace."

Once I start walking, I feel a little better. It doesn't hurt as bad as I expected and my steps become steady enough so that I don't need to lean on Bridger for support. Inside, I still feel shaky and short of breath but I can't tell if it's because of the rejection thing, Peyton, or the whatever it is between Bridger and me. I don't let go of Bridger though; holding onto his arm gives me the comfort I really need and want right now.

When we step outside, it's almost dark. The sky is a warm, dark blue and the stars are slowly coming into view. I stare up at the moon as we walk. I think about mine and Dr. Edkard's conversation. I'm surprised how relaxed his words make me feel considering all he did was agree with me. He didn't try to tell me that I shouldn't hate goddess or that goddess doesn't hate me. He just agreed with me.

I like that theta no matter how wordy he was.

"Does Dr. Edkard work here?" I ask, "he told me he's retired."

"Theta Edkard is a traveler," Bridger explains, "he hops from pack to pack, he's been here for only 4 months. He's retired in the eyes of the Elders, but he can still treat within the pack with alpha's order. I don't know how long he plans to stay, Arron doesn't really like him because traveling means he's not loyal. Arron thought he was an Upsilon for a while."

Despite living in a pack for all my life, I only ever really interacted with the higher ranks. I try to rack my mind for the title Upsilon and assume that maybe Bridger meant spies since my pack had a lot of those. Jason's father didn't like spies because he thought they were unloyal by nature - he would always whisper about them at night when he thought he was alone.

"I like him," I say, "I want to ask him, before I leave, if he'll come with me."

Bridger looks down at me, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. I don't know why he's smiling so I just stare at him.

"Replacing me already...with an old man at that," he shakes his head and clicks his tongue.

My eyes widen and I gasp. He has to be joking.

"I'm joking," Bridger laughs, "I thought you were about to slap me!"

I relax a bit, but I don't laugh. I just glare at him and slide my arm from his.

"I was just thinking that because Dr. Edkard specializes in rejection, he might be useful if - when - omegas start moving into the pack. There may be many rejected omegas."

I don't want to get my hopes up about this. I'll be happy living in a safe place with the little family that I do have: Jenna, her pup, Katie, her mate, Mika, and eventually Peyton. But Bridger has managed to get me a bit excited about growing a pack for omegas to live freely and safely. It feels good to think about the pack, too...my pack. It feels good to think about my pack.

"That's actually a great idea," Bridger says, "Theta Edkard is both a theta and an omicron - we don't use that title anymore though, we just call them psychiatrists. So he'd be a great addition if he chooses to go."

"What's a psychiatrist?"

"Mental health professionals - they're doctors and can prescribe medicine to treat illnesses in the mind."

I nod. Maybe I need that. Maybe I need someone to help me stop being a bad person because maybe it's all coming from my mind. Whatever hatred or curse goddess has on me can be reversed and maybe then I'll be okay. Maybe it'll help me stop remembering everything that's happened to me too.

"I'll ask him tomorrow...will Alpha Arron let him leave?"

"Arron will be glad to let him leave. He's been talking about how much he doesn't like or trust Edkard for so long - Edkard's first name is Minton, by the way, we call him Mint."

'Mint Edkard' I say to myself. I'll remember his name and find him tomorrow.

---

When we arrive at Bridger's cabin, he immediately begins caring for me. He has me lie on his couch in his living room while he cooks dinner. The idea of eating something heavy made me a little nauseous, so he happily agreed to make us soup instead. I really like soup; it's filling and easy to make. In the past, when I wasn't feeling well and the Calters never specified what they wanted to eat, I'd make them soup since it's so easy to put together.

While Bridger cooks, I relax against his couch, allowing my slightly aching body to enjoy the feeling of the soft cushions beneath it. His cabin is much warmer than the clinic. The warmth makes my eyes heavy and tries to pull me into sleep. I don't want to sleep, though, so I try to fight it by sitting up and focusing on Bridger's low humming in the kitchen. That only makes me more sleepy.

I decide to join him in the kitchen to keep myself from sleeping. His back is to me as he stirs the soup around in the pot. The soup smells amazing and makes my mouth water as I sit at the table quietly. I watch him work, his back still facing me. I don't know what he's humming, but really in the zone so much so that I don't think he notices me watching him.

'He looks very handsome like this' I think. When he's doing his job as a beta, he seems stiff and uncomfortable but when he's here, taking care of me, he seems much more relaxed and happy. He's always very confident, but when it's just us alone, his confidence really shines through. It makes him even more handsome than he already is and I'm not sure how that's possible.

Before he started cooking, Bridger changed into a blue T-shirt and red and black checkered pants. The shirt isn't super loose and when he moves his body in certain ways, the fabric tightens a bit. It shows off his build and I know I shouldn't stare, but I can't help it. That along with his messy hair makes it hard to look away.

Bridger suddenly turns and his eyes widen. "Oh, I didn't even notice you were here."

"I almost fell asleep," I say, "the soup smells really good."

He hums as he serves some into two bowls. He grabs two spoons before walking over to me. He doesn't sit down, instead, he says,

"Come on, we're going to eat in the living room. We're going to have a Disney Night since you said you've never seen Disney."

I don't know why he loves this "Disney" so much, but I don't argue. I get up and follow him back into the living room. He sits the bowls of soup on the table in front of the couch before grabbing the remote and turning his big TV on. I stiffly sit beside him and watch him use his remote to type stuff on the TV: Mulan.

"What is Mulan?" I ask.

"It's about a Chinese woman named Mulan who basically pretends to be a man so she can fight the war in her sick father's place," Bridger explains as he plays the movie, "though she's not technically a princess at all, she's considered part of the Disney Princesses which we will watch eventually."

I can tell he's very passionate about this. It's not like I haven't heard of Disney. The pups in my old pack would occasionally mention it and I'd overhear them talking about it. It's just that my pack isn't nearly as modern as this pack; many members didn't own TVs or computers. Not to mention, omegas aren't allowed to use any technology there since it's "useless" for us.

Bridger sits back against his couch with his bowl in his hands. I quickly reach down to grab mine before slowly scooting closer to him until our thighs are touching. When I sit back, my arm is also touching him. He doesn't move or make any noise to make me move so I relax and begin eating my soup.

As the movie progresses and we finish our soup, Bridger's arm finds its spot across my shoulders. Before I know it, my body is pressed against his, my head resting against his chest and his hand very gently caressing my arm. It feels nice, I've grown to like it when Bridger holds me in any way.

Mulan has a lot of music in it, but I can't deny it's very nice music. Bridger hums loudly and occasionally sings along with it. I listen since I don't know the words and laugh every time he dramatically sings something. Bridger really likes the man song and he sings it with his entire chest. At some point, I have to lift my head so he can move as he gets in the zone and belts out the song as if he is Shang himself.

"I should train you the way Shang trains Mulan," Bridger jokes and I laugh while shaking my head.

"I wouldn't be able to climb that wooden pole thing at all or run up hills with sandbags."

"Oh nonsense, I'm sure you could."

When Mulan is outed for being a woman, my eyes go wide when it seems Shang is about to kill her. He can't just kill her, I thought he liked her- my shoulders relax when he doesn't go through with it. Instead, he lets her go. I still find it unfair. She proved herself to be just as worthy as the rest of the men if not more! She climbed the whole wooden pole with those gold plates and became one of the best warriors! If I were Shang, I would have kept her in my army. Even after the army abandons her, she stays loyal to them and rushes back to tell them about their enemies. Very admirable of her. I like Mulan.

"So did Shang start liking Mulan when she was pretending to be a boy?" I ask slowly as the movie comes to an end when Shang visits Mulan's pretty home.

He sighs loudly. "Debate of the century, I say he was disappointed when he found out she was a woman, but that's just me. Anyways, people just think he's like bi or something."

I hum as I continue watching. The movie ends shortly after, but neither of us moves. I don't feel like leaving Bridger's side and he keeps his arm tightly around me while he flips through channels on his TV. I tilt my head back to peek at him and he glances down at me. I get the sudden urge to kiss him and now I know that I don't have to ask him to kiss so I lean up to do just that. He meets me halfway and I close my eyes once our lips are pressed together.

Since I first kissed him, I've found it all the more exciting every time I do it. It's like my body wants to be nervous, but when Bridger takes control and I give in, all the nervousness fades away because I know that he won't hurt me. Bridger likes taking care of me and it makes something in my body ache in a good way. Like now, when he presses his tongue inside my mouth and pulls me closer by my waist, I let myself melt into him and follow his lead.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks once he breaks away, "with the rejection?"

My body still aches all over and deep within, but aside from that, I don't feel terrible. So I simply nod my head and close the gap between us again.

He pulls me onto his lap and my back is pressed against the arm of the couch while my arms wrap themselves around his neck. His hand is pressed tightly against my back as his fingers bend to curve around my side. His other hand is closer to the top of my back, keeping me from moving too far away from him.

I feel his fingers creep against my skin underneath my shirt and I jerk back. I regret doing it so dramatically because he looks as though he thought he hurt me.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

We're both a little breathless. My body aches to kiss him again and forget my distress, but I'm just not comfortable with him touching me in certain places yet and I guess I should let him know.

"I-" Even though I know Bridger won't hurt me, it's still hard to speak about my feelings, "It just startled me when you touched me. Sorry."

"I'm sorry, I should've asked," he says it like it's normal and no big deal or normal for me to be uncomfortable; as if, in the past, when I had the nerve to deny a higher-rank my body, I would get beat and they'd take me in the end anyway.

"I got ahead of myself," Bridger says as he pecks me on the lips.

It's small and I know I shouldn't fall head over heels for a gesture that shouldn't even be a question, but I can't help it.

"Come on, you need to get ready for bed," Bridger continues as he pecks me again before pushing my legs off of his lap.

He holds his hand out after he stands and when I take it, he says with a wink, "And then we can continue where we left off."

If I wasn't blushing then, I am now. I let him guide me to his room and I notice how my heart simply swells and my body heats with pleasure - something I would have never felt if it were Jason leading me to his room. I'm surprised by the excitement that courses through me at the thought of kissing underneath him in his bed with his strong arms wrapped around me like before. I don't try to push away the thoughts either because I know that they're good thoughts and this excitement and his actions earlier only mean that Bridger truly is a safe person to do these things with.

He's showing me that these things aren't bad or meant to be painful or scary. They're good and they're meant to feel good with someone who makes me feel good all over. And Bridger makes me feel really, really good.

So when I'm lying on my back in his bed, I let him take my mouth in his and he asks me if he can touch me to which I nod. His cold fingers on my warm skin are shocking at first but they quickly warm as he slides his hand up and down my torso while balancing above me on his free arm.

We've kissed many times before for long periods, but this time, it feels different and...heated. I don't want to be scared when I feel his hips press against mine, but I can't help the sudden jolt that courses through me when it happens.

"Is that okay?" Bridger asks, "is it okay if we go a little further – not too far?"

I let my thoughts catch up with my actions before I take a shuddering breath and nod slowly. "Y-Yes."

"I'll go slow," he promises as he uses his hand on my body to pull one of my legs up. I'm wearing pants like his but he doesn't seem bothered by them as he presses himself against me. I didn't realize until now that I was hard down there until he starts rubbing his own hardened member against mine.

I breathe hard as he rubs us together, my mind fading from reality and soaking solely in the pleasure. I peek open one eye to look at Bridger and his expression makes my stomach tingle as wetness starts to spill out of me. My eyes go wide when I feel it and I'm pulled back to reality as I'm reminded of how much I hate slick.

"B-Bridger," I whisper, "I'll ruin your bed."

"How?" he asks before realizing what I meant. "The slick?"

I nod and try to close my legs a little but his large body stops them. I'm too embarrassed to say anything further. It makes me feel disgusting. I hated how my body reacted when those evil people did those terrible things to me. It made it seem like I wanted them to touch me, but I didn't. It didn't make it better that they also pointed it out and how disgusting it was – how gross or ugly my body looked or whatever my body did.

"I can wash the sheets. If I hated slick, I wouldn't want to do this," Bridger says as he places a kiss softly on my neck, "can I touch you there?"

I know I can tell him no and the word is at the tip of my tongue until he accidentally rubs himself against me and suddenly, all I want is for him to touch me. So I let him and he slips his hands beneath the waistband of my pants and underwear. I gasp when his large hand grabs my hardened member and he begins stroking. Up and down, up and down -- my breath picks up again and I suck in my stomach as it begins to tingle.

His hand tight around me picks up pace and before I know it, I'm cumming inside my pants. I rise up a bit from his bed, arching my back as Bridger keeps his hand on around my member and slowly moves it up and down while I shake underneath him.

I don't know how long I last, but when I finally come down from the fuzziness that blurs my mind, I open my eyes and see him staring down at me. Just that look itself almost makes me cum again. He crashes his lips against mine and I press myself into his bed as he lies over top of me, deepening the kiss in an almost painful way. I can feel his member against me and my mind screams at me to please him; not because I have to, but because I want to.

I break the kiss and ask, "Bridger, can I...can I touch you too?"

"Only if you want."

He did that to me without any expectation that I'd give back. It feels weird actually wanting to please someone in this way, but knowing that he wasn't expecting me to only makes me want to do it more. I want him to feel pleased by me and while I don't think I want to fully have sex with him yet, I do want to try my best to please him as he did me.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask as I lift up to make him get off of me. He moves away and lies down on his back as I sit up and stare at the dent in his pants. I don't mean to stare, but he's big and I can tell just from the shape it makes underneath the fabric. It makes my stomach tighten.

"Anything?" he asks and I narrow my eyes at him. He laughs and grabs my head to bring it close to his. "Just kiss me," he says and I eagerly do as told. It's hard to ignore the wetness in my pants, but when he guides my hand to his member, I focus solely on that.

I try to do just as he did, tightly forming a fist around his member and sliding it up and down, getting my hand covered in his own precum. However, I'm not sure from his face if I'm pleasing him to the degree that he did to me and I want him to be just as pleased – if not more. I look away from him and my hand wrapped around his member and an idea flashes in my mind.

As I remove my hand and replace it with my lips, it's easy to push away all the scary thoughts as I tell myself that I want to do this and that Bridger will love it and isn't forcing me to do it. I know Bridger loves it because his low moan that makes me hard again and mt stomach flip over itself tells me so – that noise makes me want to burst. And I so badly want to please him right now.

"Fuck, Kian–" Bridger groans as I hollow my cheeks and tighten my lips.

It gets messy as saliva spills between my lips and coats his member but I keep going, moving my head up and down at a steady pace. His scent is the strongest down here – earthy, like the forest or his cabin. I feel his hand in my hair. First, he's carefully running his fingers through it before he grids my hair and pulls my head away from his member. Once my mouth is empty, I take in gulps of air as I look up at him, wondering why he stopped me.

"Stop me if I get too rough," he says and I nod. He pushes my head back down to his member and I readily open my mouth. I can't take him all in – not unless I gag – so I use my hand to handle what I leave off.

He groans lowly, spreading his legs a bit wider as he controls the movement of my head. His hand in my hair tightens as he thrusts his hips upwards, surprising me as his member goes deep into my mouth, almost hitting the back of my throat. I try to keep up with his pace with my lips tight around him. I can taste his precum on my tongue as I drag it out of my mouth and against his thick shaft.

"Kian, Goddess, Kian," he moans. I moan around him – it feels so good to hear him moan my name like that.

His groans get lower and longer and before I know it, he's cumming in my mouth. I keep going, slowing my pace as he explodes in my mouth. When he's done, I slowly lift my head, my mouth making a pop noise when I release him. His cum sits on my tongue and he watches me as I swipe my tongue against my lips, coating them with the white substance. I swallow the rest and his eyes turn dark as he pulls my head close to his and crashes his lips against mine.

I close my eyes tight as he gropes me through my soaked pants.

"Kian, that was incredible," he says breathlessly, "you're amazing."

My face burns at the praise when I come down from my high. I'm still straddling him as I try to catch my breath, shivering over him. His hands find my waist and I feel his thumb gently rub my sides.

"Are you okay? Was that too much?" he asks, his eyebrows creasing with worry.

I shake my head quickly. "I-I've just never...I liked it."

I can't say that I've never done it before because I have – against my will, of course, but I've still done it. I don't know how to explain that this experience is only different because I wanted to do it and that he's slowly teaching me that wanting to please someone sexually or otherwise should be something I want to do and not something I'm expected or forced to do.

It feels good to think this way and to know that it won't ever be.

"We should get you new pants," he says,  breaking my thoughts, "then we can cuddle."

It feels good to be wanted in this way.

---

Word Count: 6123

Long ahh chapter