Chapter 16
Noah
If he pulls away, I might just die.
Luckily, Colton doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, pinned as he is to the wall like a bug, his hand in my shirt shifting to my lower back, tugging me closer. I try to corral the groan that wants to break free, but I don’t quite manage it.
This man makes me unhinged. He brings me undone.
And I’m past caring about the repercussions. At least for now.
Colton tastes like whiskey, and somehow the harshness of it matches this man, who’s biting at my mouth as if he wants to make sure I know damn well I’m on his shit list.
I’m well aware.
I tighten my grip in his hair and slide my other hand down to grab his crotch none too gently. He stills, breath puffing out. Much better . I reclaim his mouth, not caring to dissect why his submission feels like far more than victory. It doesn’t matter. This won’t ever be anything more than exactly what it is now.
Blowing off steam. A chance, even, to have this man under my thumb.
I break from Colton’s lips as I rub his crotch, the hitch of his breath more visible than audible. “Do you want to give everyone here a show?” I ask, sliding my thumb along the length of his cock, tightly confined by his jeans. “Or will you be good and come with me out back?”
“Fuck,” Colton mouths, refusing to meet my eye, his gaze pinging from my lips down to my chest. I can see him trying to reconstruct his walls, and that won’t do.
“Let me rephrase that,” I say at a rumble, bringing my lips close to his ear. “Come out back with me. Because I’m dying to make you keen, little Colt, and I won’t do it with an audience.”
“Why?” he huffs out, his hips rolling against my hand, even as his voice sounds harsh. “Are you embarrassed?”
I pull my head back and raise an eyebrow. “Do I look like a man embarrassed to have a dick in his hand?”
“It’s not in your hand yet,” he shoots back, the contrary fuck.
“And whose fault is that?”
He doesn’t seem to have a response. His eyes flit around, as if he’s just now remembering where we are. Not that anyone is paying us much mind. We’re certainly not the only ones copping a feel inside the darkly lit club.
“Colton,” I nearly growl. His gaze snaps back to me. Finally . “Do I needa throw you over my shoulder? Would that make this easier?”
Easier for him to accept. To let himself have what he so clearly wants.
He doesn’t answer, his wide eyes and uptick in breath the only giveaway to how he’s feeling. I wait him out. Five seconds. Ten.
“Last chance to walk,” I tell him, letting my hands drop, giving him an easy exit.
His grip tightens on my shirt, but he doesn’t make a single move to go. Not one.
“All right,” I mutter, grabbing Colton’s arm and bending down. I maneuver him over my shoulder, much to his verbal shock.
“The fuck,” he croaks. “Noah. What the ever-loving fuck ?”
“I warned you,” I answer, weaving through the dense crowd at the edge of the room, folks stepping aside easily with amused eyes as I haul Colton toward the back hall. A couple hoots are thrown our way. One suggestive get it .
There are a smattering of people in the hallway. Some hidden away in dark corners doing who knows what. Several waiting on the bathrooms. I find the back door, breathing a sigh of relief to see it propped open already. Won’t be setting off any fire alarms.
Colton stops his squirming as I shove the door open with my hip, walking him through. The heavy metal clunks behind us as it hits the brick blocking it from shutting. We’re only a few steps outside when Colton makes his desire to be put down known.
The second his feet hit the ground, he’s coming at me, hair ruffled and cheeks red.
“You’ve got some nerve, you know that?” he barks, pushing against my chest.
I let him shove me backwards, around the edge of the building where it’s darker, the din of the club quieting the further away we get.
“You’re such a goddamn asshole ,” he persists, eyes darkly blue out here, the flush on his cheeks getting harder to make out. He shoves me again and again, his brow furrowing when I start to smile. “You think this is funny? It’s not funny, Noah. None of this is fucking funny . It’s messed up is what it is. You and me? In what fucking world does that make any goddamn sense?”
“It doesn’t,” I agree.
“Then what the fuck are you smiling about?” he asks, nearly frantic. “What are we doing , King?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly, grabbing his arm when he tries to shove me again and pulling him close. His breath stutters out, his chest colliding into mine as I grip his ass to hold him steady. I use the purchase to grind him against me, my hold rough, and Colton’s eyes shutter. “Feels fucking good, though, doesn’t it?”
“God fucking damn it,” he hisses, head dropping forward, his hair brushing the side of my face. His hold on my arm is tight, as if he doesn’t know whether to pull me closer or push me away.
“You tell me to stop, and I will,” I make sure he knows, needing him to know. “But you wanna fight this a little? I’m all for it, Colt. I have no problem making you mine.”
“I’m not yours,” he grits out. “Will never be yours.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Colton tries to tug away, but all he succeeds in doing is rubbing himself against me, the moan that follows surely not meant to be heard by my ears. “Fucking touch me already.”
I click my tongue. “Try again.”
He uses his shoulder to shove me backwards, but I tug him with me, spinning at the last second so he’s the one who ends up against the side of the building. He grunts, eyes flashing.
“Pinned again,” I tell him with a grin.
“Fucking. Touch me,” he repeats, fire and gravel in his voice. “ Please .”
“Such a quick learner,” I praise, tugging his waistband away from his skin, the backs of my fingers skimming heated flesh. I pop the button open. “Are you gonna be good, or should I hold you down like last time?”
In answer, he growls and tries to hook my foot with his own, but I block the move and press him back into the wall.
My chuckle is hoarse. “You got it,” I tell him, slowly wrapping my hand around his throat, the curve a perfect match for my palm. Colton’s eyes slip shut, his hands shaking where he’s holding me. “You could just ask for it, y’know.”
“Fuck you,” he says, although it lacks any real venom.
I let out a sigh, slipping my other hand beneath his underwear to curl around his dick. “Like I said, maybe if you ask nicely. Now open my jeans.”
His eyes pop wide, surprise there. Curiosity, definitely. A little trepidation.
“Don’t make me ask again,” I say slowly, figuring the edge of demand will help him past his nerves.
It seems to do the trick. He grits his jaw, eyes on me as he fumbles for my waistband. He gets ahold of it, easing down the zipper as I rub my thumb over the head of his cock. His breath comes in short pants through his nose as I toy with him.
“Now pull me out, little Colt. And be nice .”
“Hate your hair,” he mumbles, sliding his dominant hand—the left—inside my pants.
“That so?” I ask, my stomach tightening as Colton’s fingers wrap around me. He maneuvers my dick out of my briefs, managing to look like a disgruntled cat every step of the way.
“And your fucking voice,” he adds. “Grating.”
I hum, grabbing Colton’s hand off my dick and bringing it up to his mouth. “Spit,” I tell him.
He looks affronted.
“It’s either a dry rub or spit, little Colt. Unless you brought lube with you?”
He shakes his head, eyes pinging down to his waiting palm. I loosen my grip on his neck just so and raise an eyebrow. Finally, Colton works his jaw and spits into his hand.
“There you go,” I say, wrapping his palm back around my dick. “You can listen to direction.” I ignore his answering scowl and squeeze his hand, running his fist down and back up again. “ Fuck .”
His expression turns to one of subtle smugness, as if he’s proud to have caused my composure to crack just a little. And while I like that look on Colton Darling a hell of a lot more than I thought I would, it’s not the surrender I’m aching for.
Letting his hand go, I pull his cock out from his underwear and step in close. Colton sucks in a breath when I swat his hand off my dick, replacing it with my own to wrap both of us in my grip. He tries to look down, but my hold on his neck doesn’t allow for it.
“Do you like that, little Colt? The feel of my dick on yours?”
He looks as if he wants to say no but can’t. I give us a couple jerks before flexing my hips, causing my cock to slide alongside his.
“Fuck,” Colton says on a gasp.
“Do you wanna see what it looks like?”
“Why’re you doing this?” he croaks out, his eyes going hazy as his dick starts to leak. I swipe my thumb through the precum.
“Getting you off?” I question.
“Tormenting me.”
I still for just a second before resuming the slow up-and-down glide of my fist. Running my nose up Colton’s stubbled jaw and cheek, I stop at his ear. “It’s not torment, and we both fucking know it. Look down.”
I release Colton’s neck, and he does, his hand gripping my arm tight as I lean against the wall. His chest bounces a few times, quick breaths in and out, his cock jerking against my hold.
“Nice, isn’t it?” I say, knowing the word isn’t enough. It looks obscene. Our cocks pressed together, his with a gentle curve, mine straight, our cockheads the only thing peeking out above my partially closed fist before my hand glides down again.
A groan is his only answer.
“If I’d known all it would take to render you speechless was this, I’d have tried it ages ago,” I tell him.
“Liar,” he pants out, exhaling heavily when I return my grip to his throat. He meets my eye, unable to hide the force of his want .
And there it is. Exactly what I was aching for.
Colton’s surrender.
My chest feels hot as I start stroking us in earnest, angling Colton’s head to the side. I run my lips over his cheek, the sharpness of his jaw, smelling leather and citrus. When I bring Colton’s face back around, he doesn’t hesitate. He meets my lips, all fire and whiskey and a sharp edge of desperation that’s a match for my own. His breath stutters when I buck against him, the added friction of our dicks rubbing together feeling too fucking good to keep up for long.
I kiss him hard—once, twice—before pulling back. “Come on, little Colt,” I urge, my hand taking us closer to the edge. “Let me hear you keen.”
“Fuck off,” he mumbles, panting hard now.
I nip his ear. “Whinny for me, baby.”
Colton lets out a laugh, and it’s so unexpected I rear back and stare at him in shock.
But then his eyes are rolling up, and his body is tensing. “Ah fuck, fuck ,” he mutters, his cock swelling in my fist. I have just enough time to move my hand from his throat to the top of our dicks before Colton is shooting against my palm.
He does moan, a beautiful, pained sound that grabs me by the balls. I don’t know if I truly do like his torment or it’s simply the satisfaction of seeing Colton Darling brought to pieces, but I follow him over the edge immediately, catching my release before it can coat our shirts. I bury my face against Colton’s neck as my body is wracked in spasms, imagining I can taste the bruise I left against his skin. It’s enough to have a final throb passing through my dick, my hand unmoving now, my other cradling most of the mess.
“Fuck,” Colton says. And then again. “Fuck.”
His eyes meet mine blearily when I pull my face from his neck. He looks wrecked. And that . That has a smirk tugging at my lips.
I hold up my hand like an offering. “Take care of this for me?”
“Oh, fuck off,” Colton says, shoving my arm away.
I huff a laugh, not having expected him to actually swallow down our cum, and fling it unceremoniously onto the ground. I wipe my hand on the side of the building as Colton balks.
“What? Did you have a better idea?”
“No,” he admits, taking my cue and shoving his softening dick back in his pants. His eyes flick up to mine before dropping back down again.
I zip up my jeans. “Don’t freak out.”
“I’m not freaking out,” he bites back.
“It’s just orgasms.”
“I know,” he says haughtily, brushing his hair off his face.
I groan a little, unable to help but step forward again, wrapping my hand in the strands. “Say thank you,” I tell him softly, mapping the way his scowl draws his brows together and the pinch at the corners of his mouth.
The expected “Fuck you” comes swiftly.
It takes concerted effort not to laugh. Fuck . Since when do I find Colton goddamn Darling amusing ?
“Fine,” I mutter, drawing him forward. Colton tenses when I bite his lip, but then he’s melting into my touch, a heady fucking thing a guy could get addicted to. I draw back, enjoying the slow blink of his eyes as they reopen. “You’re welcome.”
Colton elbows me off of him, and, this time, I do laugh. He shakes his head, looking around as if trying to figure out where he is or what he’s supposed to do now.
“Door’s that way,” I tell him.
He flips me the bird before heading off, grumbling all the while.
“See you at home,” I call.
He doesn’t deign to give me a response, but his frustrated yell is music to my ears.