29. Talon
Talon
She stands there, eyes trying to look anywhere but at me. I realize last night was different for her. It was different for me too. I’ve never wanted a woman’s eyes on me, until she looked at me. I don’t know if it was the first time I saw her, or if it started last night in the pool, but right now, I’d give just about anything to have her eyes consume me.
What I do know is, last night changed something for me. I’m no saint, I’ll never be one, and she definitely could do better, but for some reason I want to try. Want to try and be better.
For her, I want to try letting someone other than my brothers know me.
Her eyes catch mine and I smirk, she wants to look, I know she does. She’s a curious little thing.
“You can look, Spice,” walking past Fern, who’s staring between the two of us now, “it’s your turn to watch me this time.” I whisper as I pass by, loud enough for Fern to hear.
Spin that one, Cinnamon.
Her face turns red, and the amount of joy it brings me is obscene. It shouldn’t be this fun messing with her, and I do want to gain her trust, but she makes it so easy .
Back in my room, I grab the few things I need and head to Toby’s room to change. My cock stands proud as I remove the towel from my hips. That blush on Cin’s face was so fucking hot, and since I know my brother isn’t going to burst in anytime soon, I indulge my newfound errant thoughts. The sudden need to ease the ache in my dick is strong, so I take hold of myself, stroking my hand over my tip, smearing the drop of cum that pebbles there and back down to the base.
Fucking my hand to the thought of Cin, especially when she’s right down the hall, feels wrong. But oh so good.
I tug harder, squeezing tighter, imagining it’s her hand strangling my dick. As I pump, over and over, I picture the way her blush spreads over her neck, under the bruises and travels across her jaw.
It shouldn’t be this erotic. The mere thought of her has my balls drawing up tight, ready to spill into my hand, but I hold out, testing myself.
Closing my eyes, I throw my head back and groan, bringing myself to that edge over and over without falling. It’s got my heart racing, chest shaking, the need to cum barrels through me, and I know this time I can’t ignore it.
Bracing my body against the door I move my hand faster, enjoying the burn and ache in my body before tumbling over the edge of ecstasy.
I finish all over the door, painting it with hot streams of cum as I smile, promising myself that the next time I do this, Spice will be watching, and I’ll shoot my cum all over her.
After cleaning up, I head back out into the living room where Toby, Banks, and Henry are still playing video games. They nod in acknowledgement and continue without interruption.
“So,” Banks says once the game is over and they relax on the couch, “what are we gonna do about New Girl?”
“Nothing,” I answer, because I don’t know how to articulate what I’m feeling.
I don’t want to make it a thing. Especially when I know these three will give me hell and bother Cin. I don’t want to hear their shit, so I know she won’t either.
“Nothing?” One of Henry’s eyebrows lifts, “did Mack kick your ass this morning or something?”
I laugh mockingly, “ha ha, very funny.”
The three of them sit there looking at me like I’ve got three heads, and I might because what I’m feeling for Cin is… unthinkable. I don’t like women, other than Fern, and occasionally Candace. I’ve never liked a woman enough to give her more than my dick, so why is she different? Why am I suddenly wanting to be better, be… hers?
Every thought brings another question, and I hate that I don’t have the answers.
Cin walks into the room, wet hair wrapped up in a towel, sweatpants that aren’t hers cover her legs, and a cropped t-shirt of Ferns draped over her body.
“What?” She says, and that pink blush starts to spread, setting my body off in sparklers. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
None of us answer, because yeah it is that bad. Purple, green, and yellow mark her tan neck and it fuels an inferno inside my skin as my eyes take calculated notes of every scrape, and cut on her.
I hate that the marks on her neck are from violence. That the finger prints purpling her perfect fucking neck weren’t put there by me in a moment where she begged me to take the very air from her lungs. I want to put bruises there, but I need her to want them, to crave them.
“Are you… wearing Creed’s sweatpants?” I ask, choking on the last bit.
She bits the side of her lip, and looks down where the string from the waist dangles exposed because of the cropped shirt.
I don’t need her to answer, I know they are, and God how I wish she were wearing something of mine. I mean, she’s in my fucking bed, she should be wearing my goddamn clothes.
“It’s okay,” Toby says, standing up and crossing the room to where she stands, “no one’s judging you. You look great.”
I hate the way he looks at her, like she’s a baby bird about to fly out of the nest too soon. He doesn’t know her, he can’t relate to what she went through, but he’ll try. And the thought that she will likely let him comfort her chews away at something I thought was long gone.
My fucking heart.