Chapter 45
Tilian
Was it rude to laugh?
Brooks was actually a decent runner and he went for longer than I thought he could, but he clearly hated it. He liked to swim and used his body to stay fit in other ways. Pullups, pushups, sit-ups, and the like.
It was effective, obviously. He was perfectly lean with a beautiful amount of definition to his body.
I wanted to fuck with him, so I’d been teasing him by increasing the speed on mine. He kept up for a bit, but when I added elevation, he called me a string of names I’d never heard put together. I didn’t run more than a couple times a week, so I was really pushing myself to beat him, but it was worth it.
One thing he wasn’t was a good sport. He fucking hated to lose. A lesson in humility was far overdue.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I taunted as I hopped off the treadmill.
He glared at me as he stretched his hamstrings.
“This is stupid. I don’t even like your body anymore. I resent it.”
“Gonna tap out?”
“Fuck you,” he growled. “Why do you do this horrible exercise?”
“I abuse my lungs for a living, so maybe it’ll balance out. You’re also not the only one who needs outlets. It helps my anxiety. I don’t only rely on weed for that.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
“There might be something you’ll like more than running.”
“Unless it’s fucking, I say no.”
I grabbed his hand and threaded our fingers before I pulled him through the gym. For how massive it was, I was surprised more of the residents didn’t use it. I preferred to run outside, but if I didn’t feel like being in the land of the living, this was a good alternative.
Through one of the doors, there was a studio. I was pretty sure they used it for yoga classes a couple times a week. I steered clear of those.
At the far end, there were three punching bags hanging from the ceiling. Pulling my hand free, I playfully shoved him into one. He stumbled, then righted himself and narrowed his eyes for what must’ve been the hundredth time today.
“Take that anger and hit the bag,” I suggested.
“Maybe I’d rather hit you.”
“Go ahead. It might turn me on.”
He huffed and I had to hold back a smile.
“Have you ever hit something?” I asked.
He put both his hands on the bag and tapped his fingers. “Yeah. I faced off with a grizzly once. One hit to the snoot and he was out.”
“Impressive. If I knew you were such a badass, I wouldn’t have called you a bitch earlier.”
“Ha ha. Moving on.”
I pushed the bag toward him and flashed him a smile.
“Don’t we need gloves?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I only do this when I’m moody.”
“Like, when I’m being a dick?”
“Yeah.” Licking my lips, I trailed my fingers down his abdomen. He was drenched in sweat and it was too much of a turn on. “Get your hands wet with blood. It’ll make you look badass.”
“I’m never working out with you again. Fucking feral.”
With a grin, I held onto the bag and nodded toward it. He flexed his fingers, looking more nervous than felt warranted for the situation.
I hadn’t thought much about it when I brought him in here, but this could actually be a good outlet. Instead of breaking things or stabbing ink into his skin, he could punch things. In this environment, of course. It was harmless and he really needed a way to decompress. Any time he got to that breaking point, he just had to go up a couple of floors to take his rage out on a bag.
He hit it and shook out his hand. “I don’t like this.”
“We don’t have to do it,” I said.
He hit it again, then followed suit with the other hand. It was a bit awkward, but he continued to adjust to it. His hits became harder and more confident. Sweat dripped down his temple as his breaths quickened.
Focus took the place of his uncertainty. I wanted to stop him since he was definitely going to fuck up his knuckles, but I decided to let him get it out. Next time, I’d look up how to wrap his hands and probably insist on gloves. When we got back to the apartment, I’d put ice on his fingers and make sure he wasn’t hurt. Taking care of Brooks was sort of an addiction at this point.
After a while, he lifted his leg and kicked the bag. He dropped into a crouch, breathing heavily. I knelt in front of him and took his hands, which made him wince.
“You good?” I asked.
He nodded. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against mine.
“That felt good,” he said.
“Maybe you should do it more often.”
“I still think hitting someone would be more satisfying. Wanna call your stepbrother?”
“Funny. I’d rather die.”
He followed me back into the gym and sat on a bench with his heels perched on the edge.
“Do your parents pay for your school?” he asked suddenly.
“Why?”
He frowned. “Answer.”
“Yeah, they have some parent loan thing, I guess.”
“That must suck,” he said softly.
“That’s how college works. I hate the idea that they have to pay it, though. I want to help them when I graduate and start working.”
“You’re too good.”
With a smile, I came over to him. I brought his hand up to my lips and kissed each of his knuckles.
He got to his feet so quickly that I stumbled back. Putting my hands on his chest, I watched him. His jaw was tight and it looked like he was biting his tongue.
“Would it make you happy if they didn’t have to pay for it?”
I laughed a little awkwardly. “Obviously.”
“What if I take care of it?”
“Stop.”
“My parents give me three grand a month and I hardly touch it. I have, like, fifteen thousand in my bank right now.”
“Jesus, dude. That’s insane.”
“Is that enough?”
“I don’t fucking know, but you’re not paying for anything.” When he opened his mouth, I pushed him down on the bench. “Stop trying to control everything.”
“Stop being unnecessarily stubborn.”
“Stubborn? You’re the one who won’t drop it.”
“Just let me help.”
“Where is this coming from?” I asked. “You do this when something’s going wrong.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do. You can’t fix whatever’s happening, so you try to fix other things. My life doesn’t need fixing, Brooks, whether or not you have the money.”
He got up again and this time, he started walking to the door. I dropped my head back to stare at the ceiling.
Maybe I needed some more cardio, but I’d probably die. I really wasn’t all that fit.
Before he could leave the room, I ran in front of him and blocked the door. I wrapped my arms around his neck and raised up on my toes.
“You want to stop thinking for a while?” I said in his ear.
It only took him a second to relax against me. I tugged on his ear lobe with my teeth, applying enough pressure to make him dig his nails into my side.
“Get on your fucking knees.”
As soon as he released me, my hands flattened against his chest, then trailed down his abdomen. When I reached the hem of his shirt, I lifted it. He allowed me to take it off and touch his stomach.
Lowering slowly, I dragged my tongue down his body. It didn’t matter that he was covered in sweat or that we were in the gym where there were probably cameras. I took my sweet time.
By the time I was on my knees, his dick was straining against his shorts, begging to be touched. I continued to kiss his skin without going where he needed me. When my gaze lifted to meet his, he saw the game clearly.
With a dark chuckle, he shifted his shorts down. I watched him stroke his dick unhurriedly and it made me impatient.
“Back up,” he ordered.
I kept going until I bumped into a bench. He leaned me back so that my shoulders rested on the seat, then he came around the other side of it. With my head hanging slightly off of it and his knee resting next to me, my mouth was at the perfect angle.
He brushed my lips with his dick and I parted them. My tongue reached out to stroke the top of his head. It made a shiver run through him. I wanted to keep going, but he didn’t seem to want me to be in control of anything right now. He needed to use me, to tear me apart, and afterward, I’d make sure he told me why.
Toxic shit, then healthy shit. That was our thing.
Slowly, he pushed into my mouth. He didn’t stop, even when I couldn’t draw breath for a while. When he withdrew, I coughed a little. Once I recovered, he buried himself as deep as he could go. His fingers wrapped around the front of my neck lightly, applying just enough pressure for him to feel the bulge there.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he said as he continued to move back and forth. “You’re going to let me fuck your throat until you’re a fucking mess. You don’t get to touch yourself.”
I made a sound, then he thrust into me hard.
“If you don’t do as I say, I might let you pass out. Then, we’ll just have to start over.”
My lips curved as much as they could. The intensity in his eyes reminded me that he really fucking enjoyed the way I let him own me.
“You want me to hurt you?” he asked through a groan. My chin dipped slightly. “Will you help me take away this shit in my head for a while?” I hummed around him. “Fuck, I need you to take my pain, baby.”
Grabbing onto either side of my neck, he held me in place while he thrust into my throat, again and again. The position made him reach so fucking deep and I took everything he gave me.
When I tried to touch my dick, he grabbed onto my hand and brought it above my head to his chest. I kept it there and every so often, I dug my fingers into him. It wasn’t when I couldn’t breathe or when he fucked my mouth harder. It was when he slowed down or gave me too little. I wanted more because I knew that was what he needed.
I let my head hang back further to demand everything he had. He gasped when I swallowed around the tip of his dick.
“Turn over,” he said.
I flipped onto my stomach, kneeling over the bench, then opened my mouth again. He made short movements, rubbing his shaft against my tongue.
“Fuck, Tilian. Fuck.”
A moan pushed through his pursed lips as I sucked on the tip of his dick. My tongue stroked underneath his head, pushing him to the brink of overstimulation judging by the way his legs shook. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and he thrust his hips a few more times until his dick swelled. He stopped moving, but I continued, forcing his mouth to fall open from the pure ecstasy of it.
“Don’t swallow.” My eyes narrowed and I wasn’t going to listen, but he tugged on my hair, pulling me off of his dick. Leaning down, he positioned his lips over mine. “Give it to me.”
He gripped my jaw until I opened my mouth and let him swipe the cum off of my tongue. With one finger, he motioned for me to turn onto my stomach. This time, there was no hesitation before I undressed and obeyed.
“Brooks,” I gasped when he yanked me backward, scraping my knees on the rough carpet.
Kneeling behind me, he spread me open and streamed spit and cum onto my asshole. He leaned forward and pushed it inside with his tongue.
“Fuck.”
“Don’t make a sound until my dick is inside you,” he said.
My forehead fell to the top of the bench. As he worked a couple of fingers into me, my breaths hitched and stuttered, but I was otherwise silent.
“Spit on it,” he demanded.
I twisted around and released spit onto his shaft. He grabbed onto my thighs and lifted me further onto the bench so my knees were on top of it and my hands were on the ground on the other side. I was all too aware of the fact that I’d probably end up on my face at some point.
Standing, he lined himself up with my ass, which was at the perfect height like this. He streamed more saliva onto it, then spread it around with his dick, making tight circles that had my legs trembling.
“I don’t know if this’ll be enough to make it smooth,” he noted. “Let me know if it’s too much.”
I shook my head and he laughed a little. He returned his fingers to my hole and thrust a few times to make sure I was ready. As soon as he removed them, he pushed his dick inside. Just like he told me I could, I let out a loud moan.
“God, Tilian. Your ass is so fucking tight.”
“More. Please.”
He gripped the front of my thighs to hold me in place while he thrust all the way into me. The force of his movements made my knees slide on the bench. At this rate, we might tear the vinyl. The legs came off the ground for a second, throwing me off balance.
“Give me your hands,” he said.
I reached one behind me and he grabbed onto it, then I gave him the other. He used his grip on them to lift me so that I was nearly against his chest. Automatic panic made my stomach somersault.
“Don’t… drop me,” I panted.
“Don’t you trust me?” he whispered in my ear.
“Mhm.”
He wrapped an arm around my chest and released my hands. I kept them behind me, holding onto him as he fucked me harder and faster. When my head fell back onto his shoulder, he bit down on my neck, then sucked on the skin. I felt proud to wear his mark everywhere I went.
After he pulled his teeth from my neck, he grabbed my throat. I held onto his sides with a death grip when he removed his arm from my chest. My knees supported me some, but mostly, I was at his mercy and the more I tried to move, the greater pressure it put on my trachea.
“Does it hurt, baby?”
“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Want me to let you go?”
I hesitated, then shook my head, even though it hurt.
“Give me everything,” I demanded.
“I am.”
“No, you need more. You’re trying to bury it. To forget. Just… fuck me the way you need to, even if it hurts.”
He lowered me so that I couldn’t hold onto him anymore. I cried out as he fucked me harder, but I could barely get sound out. My abs were tight with how much work I was putting into staying upright enough to breathe, but it wasn’t working. He was forcing the breath out of me which each thrust and the pressure on my throat didn’t allow me to draw in any more. When there was nothing left to give, my lungs were on fire.
I dug my nails into the hand on my throat. All I could do was mouth his name, there was no way for me to make a sound.
“Does it hurt?” he growled in my ear.
My eyes were fucking heavy and my body started to go slack. When he let me go, I barely caught myself on the edge of the bench. I coughed as I struggled to draw in enough air.
He swung one of my legs over the side so that I was straddling it with my feet on the floor, then lifted my hips. Thrusting his fingers through my hair, he gripped it and wrenched my head back enough for it to hurt.
“Brooks,” I rasped, the words feeling like glass in my throat.
I held onto either side of the bench as he pounded into my ass. The sounds coming from my mouth were loud enough that if there were people in the hall, they’d be able to hear me. Each one hurt after the way he’d choked me earlier, but I couldn’t stop making them. I was lost in a flood of pain, pleasure, fear, and complete ecstasy. I knew he’d always bring me back, but it was the anticipation of never knowing how far he’d let me fall before he did.
He pulled all the way out, then pushed only the tip of his dick inside of me. Continuing like that, he groaned each time he moved in and out. He thrust in further and angled himself so that he rubbed against my prostate repeatedly. With all of the sensations I’d already been experiencing, it was enough to make me grip the vinyl hard. My nails sunk into it, tearing it beneath the intensity of how he made me feel.
“Fuck,” I moaned. “I need…”
“Tell me, baby.”
“I…” My words devolved into a moan that sounded and felt like a sob.
“Tell me, Tilian.”
“Jesus fucking… Just… God, please. Let me… I want to finish.”
He spit into his palm and the sound made me whimper before he reached underneath me to stroke my dick. Unintelligible bullshit came from my mouth when he tightened his grip.
“Brooks, please… I need to feel you… cum.”
“You want me to cum in your ass first, baby?”
My nod was fast and jerky. He brushed his thumb over my head, making it more difficult for me to hold back while I waited. His hand coming down on my ass cheek drew out a desperate whimper. He dug his fingers into the spot, intensifying the sting, then thrust into me with so much force that it made me drop to my elbows. My body jolted when I felt him cum inside me and I finally let myself finish with a long hum that was completely out of my control.
We stayed like that, both of us catching our breath for a few minutes. That orgasm was enough to make me want to curl up in bed and fall asleep while Brooks held me. It was only two floors down, but it felt too far away. Maybe he’d carry me.
“My parents are coming this weekend,” he said.
I was shocked by his statement, not only because of the details. Every time I asked him to open up, it was a fight. I was surprised that he’d offered the information without me having to ask a few more times.
What was most on my mind was that we were leaving in the morning. On a trip that we planned weeks ago. That he called me to talk about, even though he was only thirty minutes away at the time.
I tried not to be mad. He hadn’t lied and, at the time, we were in a different place. It was still extremely new. The fact that he told me was good, even if it took a while, and I didn’t want to discourage that.
“Um, okay,” I began, turning over to look at him.
He traced the line of my navel with two fingers, avoiding my eyes.
“Look at me.” When he did, I touched his lips. “You’re not happy about it.”
He shrugged, then moved away from me. I watched him get dressed and tried to read his expression. It was incredibly guarded, even for him.
“You planned the Portland trip so we wouldn’t be here. You don’t want them to meet me, do you?”
My stomach felt really fucked up about that. I’d asked if they’d like me and he hadn’t answered it plainly. I might not be what they expected, but would they hate me?
After putting his shoes on, he turned to me. I finished with my clothes and sanitized the bench while I waited. Nothing could be done about the ripped vinyl.
“I don’t want you to meet them ,” he corrected.
“What if I do?”
“Is that what you want?”
“It’s inevitable if we stay together. But if you’re not ready, that’s okay too. Do you still want to go to Portland?”
“Yes,” he answered immediately. “I’ll think about the rest later.”
“Thank you.”
He took my hand and cocked his head at me. “For thinking about it?”
“No. For telling me.”
“I hated every second of it.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop myself from smiling, especially when he motioned for me to get on his back. It still amazed me that he was so willing to pick me up when I wasn’t much smaller than him. No complaints here.
Baby steps. They still got you to your destination, even if the journey was more tedious.