Make Me Moan Mr Therapist. Chapter 68: Be gentle you bastard! (18 )

"What do you an by I should help you, Damien?" Fred asked, confusion threading through his voice as he turned to look at him and froze.

Damien was already standing behind him.

Fred startled so violently he nearly fainted, stumbling forward on instinct. His hands shot out to steady himself, but instead of air, his palms landed against sothing solid, warm, and unmistakably alive.

Damien’s chest.

Well-crafted. Hard. Solid beneath his fingers.

Fred’s breath hitched as his eyes lifted despite himself, locking onto Damien’s face....sharp jaw, defined lips, eyes dark with sothing dangerous and burning.

Fuck.

"I...." Fred swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

I’m never going to have sex with you! he scread inwardly. You literally said you’re going to kill . If I help you now, you’ll definitely kill !

His hands were still resting on Damien’s chest. He didn’t dare move.

And then....

That night ca crashing down on him. The heat, desperation and that kiss.

It was no doubt hot, consuming and of course wrong.

Stop it.Stop thinking about that night. Fred scolded himself harshly. That was the worst night of your entire life. Damien isn’t a mory....he’s the king of death standing right in front of you.

He forced himself to straighten, stepping back just enough to create distance.

That was when he felt it.

Sothing hard pressed insistently against his lap, unnatural, solid, almost like steel.

Fred stiffened.

Slowly, dread pooling in his stomach, his gaze dropped.

And landed directly on Damien’s length.

Fred choked on his own spit, snapping his head away so fast his neck hurt. His face burned as the image seared itself into his mind, refusing to leave.

That was what was poking ? Like... seriously?!

Behind him, Damien scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, equally unsettled by his own reaction.

So huge, Fred’s traitorous mind whispered.

"Help ," Damien said suddenly, his voice rough, strained, his body trembling as though it were on fire. "Get a clean oga, Fred."

Fred blinked.

Oh, he doesn’t know.

Relief flooded him so hard his knees almost buckled.

Thank goodness.

But the relief quickly turned into irritation.

Didn’t this bastard say he hated ogas?

So why does he suddenly need one to ’relieve the heat’ in his body?!

"You’re an alpha," Damien continued, breathing unevenly. "I know you have ogas under your care. Just bring one to please....before I end up dying."

As if to punctuate his words, Damien staggered, coughing violently. Dark red splattered onto the floor.

Blood.

Fred’s eyes widened in sheer panic.

"Just what the fuck is wrong with you?!" he exclaid, rushing forward and gripping Damien’s arm. "Vomiting blood?! Even oga pheromones shouldn’t cause this!"

Damien shook his head weakly, sweat rolling down his temple.

"You wouldn’t understand," he panted. "And I don’t expect you to. Just... go. I’ll clean myself up before you get back."

He lifted his gaze, eyes dark and desperate.

"And tell the oga I’ll pay him. Any amount. I just need...." his jaw clenched, voice dropping lower, rougher, "....to fuck soone right now."

"Fine. Fine!" he said quickly. "I’ll go. Just lie down before you collapse."

Damien gave a faint nod, allowing Fred to guide him to the bed. The mont Damien lay back, his eyes fluttered shut, his breathing still shallow and strained.

I really am going to get him an oga, Fred thought grimly as he turned toward the door. Bastard or not, I can’t just watch him die.

He stepped out into the hallway....

"Sir?" The female attendant from earlier approached, concern flickering across her face as she took in Fred’s pale expression. "Are you not enjoying our services?"

"I’ll be right back," Fred replied quickly. "I just need to get sothing outside."

Without waiting for a response, he hurried away.

Minutes later, he reached the parking lot, located his car, and climbed inside. The engine roared to life as he pulled out, disappearing into the night street with his heart pounding, thoughts racing, dread coiling tightly in his chest.

But wait... where am I even supposed to get an oga?

Fred’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he slowed his car in front of another club, neon lights flickering against the windshield. Laughter and music leaked out into the night, but instead of comfort, it made his chest feel heavier.

I don’t even know how to approach one, he thought bitterly. Talk less of asking an oga to follow back to a hotel.

And even if he sohow managed that....

All the ogas in places like this would be considered dirty to Damien.

Clubs were the only places Fred knew where ogas gathered openly, yet Damien would never accept them.

"So where the hell am I supposed to get a clean oga?" Fred muttered, exhaling sharply.

His shoulders sagged as reality sank in.

Soone at death’s door shouldn’t be this selective, he reasoned, frustration etched on his face. But that bastard is selective. But then I still can’t do it. I can’t just walk up to a stranger and....

No. He shook his head. I’ll go back and tell Damien to call one of the ogas he knows himself.

Dirty or not, that would be his problem.

Especially since neither Gabe nor Alex was answering their calls.

Decision made, Fred pulled away from the curb and sped back toward the hotel, unease crawling up his spine the entire drive.

*****

The mont he reached the hotel, Fred rushed inside, barely acknowledging the front desk as he took the stairs two at a ti. His heart pounded louder with each step until he finally reached Damien’s room and pushed the door open.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

"Why is it so dark?" Fred thought uneasily. Why did he turn off the lights?

A chill ran down his spine, but he forced himself forward.

He moved toward the bed and stopped.

Damien was lying there, utterly still.

"Sleeping?" Fred whispered. Then dread crept in. "Or... unconscious?"

Another thought slamd into him like lightning.

Or dead?

"No....no, no, no," Fred muttered as he rushed forward and touched Damien’s arm.

Cold.

So cold it stole the breath from his lungs.

"Damien?" Panic surged as Fred shook him gently. "Hey....are you okay? What’s wrong with you?!"

No response.

Even in the darkness, the full moon spilled silver light through the window, illuminating the room just enough for Fred to see. Damien’s body was bare, unmoving yet unmistakably tense, as if caught in so cruel contradiction.

He’s cold... but....

Fred swallowed hard.

He’s not dead.

His pulse was weak, but there. His body reacted, even if his mind didn’t. His dick was still hard, think long and veining pointing towards the roof, making Fred swallow hard.

"I can’t get you an oga," Fred whispered hoarsely. "Just wake up. Please. Let’s talk first."

Silence answered him.

Then....

Maybe... I can save him.

The thought struck suddenly, terrifying in its clarity.

Going out again might be too late but I’m here.

Fred’s chest tightened painfully.

"I hate you," he whispered, voice trembling. "And you hate ogas. But I can’t just stand here and watch you die as it seem like you might actually die."

Before fear could stop him, Fred made a decision he could never take back.

He stood, fingers shaking as he unbuttoned his shirt and let it slide from his shoulders. The air felt cold against his skin, yet his body burned as if ignited from within. He shed the rest of his clothes chanically, his thoughts spiraling wildly.

I’ve never done this before, he thought desperately. You’re going to be my first, you bastard.

And if this kills later... so be it.

He climbed back onto the bed, hovering over Damien’s still form. For a heartbeat, he hesitated then leaned down, pressing his lips against Damien’s.

The kiss was clumsy, frantic, fueled by fear rather than desire.

Fred moved instinctively, desperate to wake him, to anchor him back to the living. His breath shook as he pressed closer, every nerve screaming with panic and resolve.

Please, he begged silently. Live.

Without wasting much ti....he guarded his asshole to Damien’s length and then....

Pain flared, sharp and overwhelming, ripping a cry from his throat. Tears welled up instantly, sliding down his cheeks as his body reacted violently to the intrusion.

It hurt.

Damn, it hurt so much.

But Fred clenched his teeth and pushed through it, refusing to stop.

"I can’t...." he gasped, then forced himself onward, breath hitching as the pain slowly turned into pleasure.

His body burned hotter, scent spilling into the room before he could stop it.

"Oh....fuck..." he moaned weakly, the sound slipping out against his will.

Warmth spread where there had been cold monts earlier, and Fred sucked in a sharp breath, his movents faltering.

Just as he began to slow so as to get off as he was tired....

A strong hand grabbed his waist and slamd him back against the bed.

Fred froze.

He’s awake.

Panic surged instantly. Please don’t recognize . It’s dark. He won’t recognize right?....

"It’s you," Damien murmured hoarsely, eyes still shut. "Your pheromones..."

Before Fred could speak, Damien moved, taking control with brutal urgency as he slamd into Fred.

"Ah...fuck!" Fred cried out. "It hurts! Be gentle, you bastard!"