Blood Bonds: Chapter 11

STARING at the same four walls for days on end is enough to drive me insane, especially in a room as barren and poorly designed as the sedate spare room the Dravens shoved me in when I arrived here. There’s too much blue, terrible fucking shades of it, and the bed is uncomfortable as shit. If I manage to fix things with Oli, I’ll be buying a new mattress.

I don’t want to think about what I’ll be doing if I can’t fix it.

There’s nothing to do in here except stare at walls, do homework for classes I’m repeating anyway, or jerking off at the thought of the perfect Bond I’ve managed to alienate, even though I tried everything to avoid it.

It might be wrong, but I go with jerking off.

There’s two ways we could look at this; either I’m a creep for doing it while thinking about a girl who probably thinks I betrayed her in the worst fucking way, or I’m a devoted Bond who couldn’t even get it up for anyone else at this point. Both of those things are true. I’m done trying to make sense of this.

I feel her the moment she pops into my head.

How can you feel an out-of-body experience when it’s not happening to you? Fuck knows, but one minute I’m lying there with my dick in my hand by myself, and the next I can sense Oli’s shock and confusion about where the hell she is and what she’s seeing. It’s as though I’ve summoned her here with the sheer force of my longing for her.

The spike of lust that comes from her is a great ego boost, not that I needed any help.

How the hell did I end up here?

I grin, hoping she can feel that I’m doing it even if she can’t see it. I’d guess you got a little power bump, Sweetness. But however it happened, I’m glad you’re here.

There’s a throb of longing there in my chest, a sign she’s been missing me just as bad as I’ve missed her, and it makes me angry.

If you need me, I’ll break down this door to come find you. I’ve been toeing the line because I didn’t want to start an argument and put you in the middle of it but, baby, if you need me, I’m coming to find you.

She glows inside my chest, preening about my need to be with her, and sends back, It’s okay. I’ve mostly been sleeping. I’ll come find you when I’m awake properly again… if I can get back out of your head, that is.

The grin turns into a smirk. Well, while you’re here, I guess I better finish what I started, Sweetness.

She sends through a feeling of fake outrage that has me roaring with laughter like a crazy man, but then she moves my hand, stroking my dick for me, and the mechanics of it don’t mean a fucking thing. I don’t care that it’s my hand, I nearly blow my load knowing she’s a part of this.

Don’t you dare make me come so fast and shame me, Sweetness.

Her answering giggle is fucking perfection, and I want to lock the memory of it down forever.

I don’t like to be kept waiting, Bond. If you want to show me how good you can be, then get a move on.

Who thought having a wank could be this erotic, but the emotions and little threads of lust she sends to me only stoke the fire as my fist slides up and down my cock. I can feel her testing me, checking what I’m doing and how I’m moving, like she’s taking notes for later. Fuck, I hope she is. I need her to come find me and take over because this might be the best fucking experience of my life, but having the real deal here?

I’d take that over this a million times over.

I hold out for long enough that she’s not going to have doubts about my stamina and not a second longer, her presence watching as I spill out all over my fist, grunting and trying to hold back a roar that would have Gabe banging on the wall.

It’s the best fucking orgasm of my life, a small taste of what I’ll have if I ever get to have my Bond.

The moment the lust clears, I can feel her hesitance and awkwardness creep in. She’s here, in the possible traitor’s head, while no one else in the house knows it.

I leap to reassure her.

You can see everything here. Whatever you need to believe me, take it.

She hesitates and my heart breaks a little. I don’t blame her. I don’t blame her for a fucking thing, but I’m so fucking desperate for her to believe me that the chance that she doesn’t want to look into my memories breaks me.

I try again, trying to keep the desperation out of my tone. There is nothing in my life that I want to keep from you. There’s a lot of ugly, a lot of bad shit, and shit I’m ashamed of. But I would never hide it from you, not even if I thought you might think less of me. I’d rather you hate those parts of me and never doubt what I’m saying, than for us to live with this thing between us. Not having you and your trust isn’t an option for me, Bond. It’s not an option.

She grows even more quiet in my chest, and I leave her alone. I can’t push her, no matter how much I want to, because if she doesn’t come to the decision herself, then what’s the fucking point of it?

I grab a towel off of the ground next to the bed and wipe myself down. I get up and walk into the bathroom, avoiding the mirrors because I don’t really feel like staring into my father’s face right now. He’s the entire fucking reason I’m in this mess, and the fact that I could be his slightly-younger-looking twin grates on me.

Oli stays quiet through the entire shower, her mind just sitting with me while I get myself clean. After I’m dried and back in a pair of clean boxers, I put a movie on, something mindless that I’ve seen a thousand times, and climb back into bed.

Once I’m settled, it’s clear that Oli has something she wants to say, but she stays quiet throughout the movie. I don’t want to fall asleep and miss out on her being here, but there’s something so comforting about her presence that the fatigue of countless shitty sleepless nights slowly creeps up on me.

Right before I pass out, she finally speaks.

I don’t want to look. I want you to tell me yourself. I want to hear it from you.