22. Kieran
Chapter 22
Kieran
Maybe it had been inevitable for us to end up here, like this. I liked to think that every decision, big and small, that we made before now had led us to this point. Like Fate had a compass and we were her true north.
Beneath me, Clay trembled. I wanted to kiss away his fear, his apprehension, and leave him with only want. And I did my best to do just that. Pressing my mouth against his, I swept my tongue inside and caressed every inch of him I could. I consumed him. Devoured him until he was nothing but breath and desire. Until his trembling stopped and his wriggling began.
“Is there something you need?” I asked, kissing the curve of his neck. His skin was soft and impossibly hot. Laughter huffed out of him in response.
“I need you to hurry up.” Clayton squirmed around, grinding up into me.
“But I’m just getting started.”
Clayton let out a tortured groan and went still beneath me. “You’re killing me, Kieran.”
A laugh rumbled out of me. I loved how faux-dramatic he was sometimes. Every time we were alone, it was like another chip of his shell cracked and the real Clayton shone through .
“You win.” I stretched over to the nightstand to grab the lube and a row of condoms. I tossed the condoms on the bed next to Clay and he looked at them, then looked up at me, arching his eyebrow.
“Someone’s ambitious.”
“Hopeful,” I corrected. “Once won’t be enough.”
He whimpered and pulled me down into a searing kiss. I loved the taste of his want, the feel of his desperation as he kissed me like he owned me.
No longer willing to wait, I broke the kiss. Clay looked up at me with a softness in his gaze that I was sure I hadn’t seen before. It was like all his walls finally crumbled down and he was defenseless for the first time. I rolled off him and lay next to him instead. His legs eased apart for me as I lubed my fingers. I could barely look at him for how fucking beautiful he was. It was like staring into the sun.
We kissed and my fingers found their way between his legs, into the crease of his ass. Lube-slick, I teased his rim and kissed him harder, swallowing every whimper that escaped. They belonged to me. Clay took a deep breath when I pressed the first finger inside him. If he thought I was going to make this quick, he had another thing coming.
I teased his hole, sliding my finger in and out slowly, until he was soft and pliable. His body shook against mine and sometimes he got so caught up in feeling that he forgot to kiss me back. He panted against my mouth, breathing me in. A long, low moan tore out of him when I inserted another finger. His hole was impossibly tight around the new, thicker intrusion and I wondered if he could take three fingers. Or four.
“Kieran… God.” Clay sighed, clinging to me, rocking on my hand, fucking himself on my fingers. He was stunning. Debauched. His pupils were wide and black and threatened to overwhelm me whole. Red, kiss-swollen lips parted and a tongue darted out to wet them .
His gaze tore away from mine and he twisted around to grab the row of condoms. He tore one off and handed it to me. Clay asking for what he wanted made my dick twitch. He was hot. Forceful without being overbearing. Demanding, but only because he was desperate.
He still whined in complaint when I pulled my fingers out of him. I’d planned to finger him until he was a sobbing, writhing mess, but Clay’s insistence made it hard to resist doing things his way.
I rolled the condom down my cock then slathered it with more lube. I didn’t know when the last time Clay had been fucked was, and I wasn’t going to ask. It didn’t matter to me when he’d last had sex or who it was with. His past had no place between us right now.
Clay was too beautiful, stretched out underneath me like some prince waiting to be served. There was a curve to his mouth that looked like happiness. A warmth in his eyes that looked like affection. A tenderness in his touch that felt like hope.
Going slow, I slid my cock into him. I watched his every reaction. Every twitch of his mouth, every gasp and pant and moan. The way his eyelashes fluttered when I pressed inside, deeper and deeper until there was no more of me to go in him.
Like an unspoken agreement rippled between us, we met in the middle for a kiss. Our tongues tangled, battled. Clay sank his hand into my hair, the one with the cast lay against my thigh, a stark reminder of everything he’d been through before now.
I rocked against him to give him time to adjust, time to be driven wild with need. I kept it up until he was begging me. Writhing and moaning and grasping, arching up into me, trying to get me to move.
And when I did, he shivered. Sighed. Grabbed on to me however he could. Wrapping one good arm around my neck, he kept me close to him so he could kiss me. Our foreheads were pressed together and the whole world shrank down to just him and me and the way he made me feel. Like I was important. Essential. Worthy. Wanted.
“Kieran,” Clay gasped my name. “Fuck me, please. Need it. Need you. Want to feel you for days.”
I wanted to feel him for forever. An eternity wasn’t long enough.
His wish was my command and I increased my pace. Dragging my cock out of him almost all the way, I slammed it home. Folding myself closer to him, I tucked my hands under him, behind him. I gripped onto the tops of his shoulders and snapped my hips. My face was buried in the curve of his neck and I sucked up a hickey, unwilling to leave him unblemished in some way. It was primal and primitive, but the bloom of purple on his throat shone like a beacon of ownership. Clay was mine in every way that mattered.
A burning need to see his face when he came had me sitting up, looming over him. I grabbed his hips and lifted him, changing the angle of my entry slightly. Clay’s brow furrowed and his eyes rolled back. Forced to let go of me, his good hand wrapped around his cock. I could tell he still wasn’t used to jerking left-handed so I batted his hand away and took over for him.
Every muscle in my body protested the vigorous pace, but I had no intentions of stopping until Clay was a messy puddle of satisfaction. It wasn’t going to take long. Clay’s cock already wept a steady stream of precum and I used it to slick my strokes. My breath caught when Clay clenched around me, gripping my cock with his ass.
Every time he reached for me, my heart sang. He pulled me down to him. It was barely a kiss. Barely anything but lips grazing, but it was enough. It was everything.
I came so hard I saw stars. A white wonderland overtook my vision. I jerked Clay until he whimpered against my mouth. Until he arched into me, and still writhing on my cock, he came too. In thick ropes splattering up his chest. Even more of his sticky release coated my fingers. I kept touching him until he laughed and pushed my hand away.
“God, you’re an evil bastard.” He smirked up at me, not looking the slightest bit put off by my apparent evilness. He let his arms flop out to his sides like an extremely satisfied starfish.
“I should get something to clean up.” I held my hand up and Clay grinned like he knew all my secrets. He grabbed my hand and tugged it toward him. I watched, enraptured, as his tongue darted out of his mouth and he licked his spend off my fingers. He held my gaze as though he were daring me to look away as he cleaned in between my fingers.
“I still have to get up to take care of this.” I motioned to where we were still connected.
Clay sighed and released my hand. “If you have to.”
I leaned down and stole a kiss. “I’ll be quick.” I kept hold of the condom and eased out of him. Unable to resist, I reached down and gently teased his hole with my fingers. It was still soft and supple and were I ready to go again, I could probably slide right back inside him like I’d never left.
I tore myself away from him before I got any bright ideas. In the bathroom across the hall, I threw the condom away and washed my hands. I wet a washcloth and gave my junk a cursory wipe before going to the bedroom.
Clay was on the bed right where I left him, and I liked the look of him there more than I was ready to admit. I stretched out next to him and gently mopped the mess off his chest, then tossed the cloth at the laundry basket, not caring if it missed or not .
“I like being in your bed.” Clay wriggled closer and rolled onto his side. He lay his cast over my chest. “I can’t wait to get this thing off me.”
“I broke my arm when I was about twelve or so. It’s been a while, but I can empathize with your plight.”
“How did you break your arm?”
“Doing stupid shit Shane encouraged me to do. It was during my very brief skateboarder phase.”
“How long did the skateboarder phase last?”
“About three hours,” I confessed the sad and painful truth.
“Three hours is…”
“Pathetic.”
“Commendable.”
“If you say so.”
Clay tilted his head and kissed my chest. “I definitely say so. Now you need to tell me the rest of the story.”
“There’s not a lot to tell, really. We were at the skate park the day after my birthday. I’d gotten the skateboard after months of nagging my mom for one. Shane was convinced that I could do anything. He’s always been this gung-ho, extra supportive cheerleader type guy. I’m sure he thought he was helping. I wasn’t comfortable on it yet, but he wanted me to go down one of the ramps. He harassed me all afternoon and I eventually gave in.”
Clay hissed in a breath like he knew what was coming.
“Well, I went down the ramp. Only, after about the first foot, the skateboard shot out from under me and went on without me, and I went down. Snapped my wrist. Shane cried all the way home like he was the one who broke his arm. On the bright side, he did all my chores until the cast came off. ”
“He’s a good guy.” Clay mused, suddenly quieter. “I hope I can pay him back.”
“I don’t think he intended you to have to.”
“He’s never mentioned it, but…” Clay went silent, clearly unsure how to finish that thought. Or maybe he was afraid to. “But I want to. I’ve been talking a lot to my therapist about accountability, among other things.”
“We can talk to Shane if you want. He is a good guy. I’m sure he’ll be reasonable about the whole thing.”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” Clay yawned.
I should take him home. Back to Mom’s house. Back to where he wasn’t such a constant temptation. But I didn’t want to part with him yet. Not seeing him for a week didn’t mean I’d ignored him. It probably felt that way to him, but he was on my mind all day, every day.
I didn’t know what it meant for us or for the future. What it would mean tomorrow, but I asked him anyway.
“Stay the night?” I held my breath and waited for his answer.
“Yeah.” He sounded happy that I’d asked, and maybe also relieved.
Whatever it meant, we could tackle it tomorrow. Together.