Making It Personal by Wells, C. (best non fiction books of all time txt) 📗

bed, stretching out beside him, moving his hands restlessly over Blake’s body as his tongue thrust into Blake’s mouth, Oli’s heavy cock pushing insistently at his hip.

Blake couldn’t breathe. It was too sudden, not what he’d anticipated at all. And although it was undoubtedly erotic, Blake was shocked by the thought which slammed through his brain. But it’s not Will. I wanted Will’s kiss. A second hand stroked up his thigh to wrap firmly around his cock. He stared into dark brown eyes set in a tanned face. Ben. Fuck, the man was ripped. Oli broke the kiss and Blake watched as the couple met over him to kiss passionately, Ben’s hand never ceasing in its motion over Blake’s cock while he tugged at his own, seven inches of thick flesh which reared up toward his navel, pre-come already showing.

“Oh, you’re going to feel so good when your arse is tight around my dick,” Ben breathed. Blake thought his accent very sexy. “Yeah, me fucking you, while you fuck Oli.” Beside him Oli let out a mewl, making it plain he really liked that idea. Blake’s heart hammered, his breathing erratic. Something felt wrong, but what, he wasn’t sure. He only knew that all of a sudden he didn’t want this, knew that with absolute certainty. He started to panic as the two men bracketed him, their heads moving lower until their mouths met at his shaft, two sets of lips sliding over his cock. But by now, far from turning him on, Blake felt dizzy. He was breathing so fast, he thought he was hyperventilating, and his chest felt as if a steel band had been tightened around it.

What the fuck is wrong with me? And then it hit him.

Where the hell was Will?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Will knew how Ben and Oli played. They didn’t mess around but simply plunged into the action, working together like a predatory well-oiled machine. The number of times he’d watched them work their magic on some unsuspecting twink at the club, mesmerizing him, working him into a frenzy of lust until he was begging for them to take him home and fuck him. What Will wasn’t prepared for was the way it made him feel as they kissed and fondled Blake.

Will couldn’t take it. In fact, he couldn’t bear it a second longer.

Blake wanted this, remember?

Well, Blake may have wanted it, but Will didn’t want to see him get fucked by Ben and Oli—or by anyone else, for that matter. And he wasn’t about to stick around and watch it happen.

As Oli moved in position, Will caught sight of Ben, gazing at the couple with gleaming eyes as he moved to join them on the bed. That was it. Will extracted himself from Blake’s embrace, Blake too caught up in what Oli was doing to notice, and moved toward the table where he’d left his clothes. He struggled to slip into his jeans, his hands trembled so much, and hastily tugged his sweater over his head. He grabbed his trainers and heavy winter jacket and headed for the door which led into the hallway. As he passed through the doorway, Stephen caught up with him, grabbing him around the arm. His eyes were filled with concern.

“Will, what on earth is wrong? You’re as white as a sheet.”

Will shook his head. “I’m sorry, Stephen. I can’t do this.” He glanced back into the room. Blake was hidden from sight by Oli and Ben. “If Blake looks for me, just tell him I left, all right?”

Stephen stared. “If he looks for you?” His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, boy?”

Will’s leg’s suddenly felt weak. The heavy pulse of the music was overwhelming.

“It doesn’t matter.” His heart was like a leaden weight in his chest. “Sorry, but I’ve got to go.” He shoved his feet roughly into his trainers and slung the jacket around his shoulders. He had to get out of there. Stephen opened the door.

“Are you sure about this? You really want to leave him here?”

Will snorted. “Trust me, Blake can take care of himself. But I think Ben and Oli are doing a pretty good job of that already.” One last glance back and then he plunged out into the darkness, his feet loud as they crunched along the gravel drive.

Just get to the railway station, get on a train and go home. That’s it, it’s over.

Will had never been so miserable in his whole fucking life.

Blake pulled away from the two gorgeous men who looked set on devouring him whole, and gazed around the room in a panic. “Where’s Will?” There was no sign of him.

“Chill, babe.” Oli gave the room a cursory glance. “Can’t see him.” He turned back to Blake. “Now, where were we?” He grinned.

Blake couldn’t chill. He glanced toward the corner where they’d stowed their clothes and his heart almost stopped. He couldn’t see Will’s clothes anywhere. He shrugged off Ben’s hand on his arm. “There’s something wrong.”

Ben spoke soothingly. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.” He stroked a warm hand down Blake’s back, but Blake shook him off.

“For God’s sake, leave me alone. I have to find Will.” His heartbeat raced and his mouth dried up. His gaze darted rapidly around the room. He got off the bed, ignoring the entreaties of the couple to calm down, and ran into the hallway, pulling up his briefs as he did so.

“Whoa, slow down, Blake.” Stephen stopped him with a firm hand to his chest. “You need to calm down. You’re shaking like a leaf.” He lead Blake back into the playroom. “Let’s get your clothes.”

Clothes. Blake’s fevered brain latched onto the word and he nodded, following Stephen. He grabbed his clothing and pulled them on, fingers refusing to cooperate. Stephen stood by his side, watching him. Blake picked up his jacket, feeling in his pocket for his car keys. “Got to find Will.”

“Blake, he left, about ten