Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Devon
Christian takes control of my ass like he owns it.
I'm basically a Slip ’ N’ Slide with the amount of lube he used, and it’s all I can do to grip the bedsheets while he pounds into me.
His cock fills me completely, stretching my hole wide as he tags my prostate with every firm thrust. I'm fucking leaking onto the bed, precum and lube dripping down my thighs.
“Oh god, oh fuck,” I cry out, trying to meet his thrashing hips, but he presses a palm between my shoulders to pin me in place.
“Nuh-uh,” he breathes. “Stay just like this, baby. Jesus fuck, your hole looks so pretty taking my cock.”
My eyes roll back at those words, even as a heat floods my cheeks. Pretty isn't something I'd associate with myself, especially my asshole, but damn if the way he said it isn't lighting me up inside. I'm so close to spilling my load that I reach down to jerk my cock.
Christian grunts and snatches up my arm. “What did I just say?”
“Fuck, I just… need to come,” I say through clenched teeth. “You're pulverizing my prostate right now.”
That has him halting immediately. “Does it hurt?”
“It feels like I'll die if you don't keep fucking me!”
“Shit, my bad.” He picks up speed again, though not as hard as before. “I always wondered what it felt like.”
I glance over my shoulder to see him intently watching his cock slide in and out of me. “What? A prostate orgasm?”
“Yeah.”
A slow, wicked grin spreads on my lips. “I can show you if you want, hot shot. I'll milk your prostate real good.”
His gaze meets mine, pupils blown as he continues to fuck me. I can see the curiosity in his features, but he doesn't respond, instead stretching himself over me. His weight presses me into the mattress, trapping my cock against my abs.
“I'm close,” he whispers against my ear. “But I want to feel you come first, pastelito. Can you do that for me?”
“Let me touch my dick.”
“Nope. Untouched, like last time. I know you can do it for me.”
Releasing a shaky breath, I bury my face into the pillow. “That was… I don't know how that happened.”
Christian hums, licking over my neck as he gently thrusts his hips. “I think I do. How about a kiss, baby?”
“Fuck no.”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating against my back. Each slow roll of his hips feels like torture. “Then I'll just fuck you like this, nice and slow, until you come.”
“Please,” I fucking whimper, hot with humiliation. My dick is so hard that it hurts.
“Kiss me, Dev. Then you can come.”
Goddammit. With a huff, I turn my head and take his mouth, already parting my lips for his tongue.
When he licks into me softly, I feel that tingle start in the base of my spine.
It spreads outward, up my back and down my thighs, until a final prod of his length against my prostate has me spilling onto the bedsheets.
“Fuck,” he groans into my mouth, capturing my throaty noises with another sloppy kiss. “Just like that, baby. I can feel you clenching around me, holy shit.”
The orgasm seems to last forever, wave after wave of cum warming my stomach. A euphoria I've never felt before yawns inside of me, radiating to every nerve and limb. My brain almost short-circuits as I squeeze my eyes shut and ride it out.
Only when I finally finish does Christian straighten up to grab my waist. “I need it rough, but I know you can take it, baby. Just let me use this pretty hole a little longer.”
I'm so fucking spaced out from the force of my orgasm that I can't even answer. My entire body is limp and relaxed, but I nod because that's all I can manage. At this point, I don't even care what he does to me; I feel that fucking good.
“Damn,” Christian laughs, lifting my hips, “fucked you speechless. If I'd known that's all it takes to shut you up, we'd have done this already.”
Mentally, I flip him off. He can't see it, but just know it's there.
A smile forms on my lips when he starts to pound into me again, and it only takes a few hard thrusts before he comes. The sexiest, dirtiest groan I’ve ever heard leaves his throat as his cock swells and pulses inside of me.
Once the orgasm ends, Christian collapses against my back. We're both damp with sweat and lube, but he doesn't seem to care. Neither do I, especially when he places a tender kiss on my shoulder and nuzzles into the back of my neck… before promptly passing out.
With a laugh, I settle in as best I can despite the cum drying beneath me, too exhausted to move. We can clean up in the morning. His weight on my body calms me, anyway—almost enough to banish the thoughts creeping in.
Was this a one-time thing?
Will shit change between us?
Why did I offer myself up like a booty call?
Christian's soft snores fill my ears, effectively drowning out most of those concerns. Forcing my mind to empty, I let my eyes fall shut to the feeling of his cock still inside me and drift off to the first restful sleep I've had in years.
“Here.”
Glancing up from the counter I'm currently wiping down, I gape as Christian drops a handful of cash into my palm.
“What’s this?”
He leans his hip against the bar and crosses his arms. “Your tips.”
“Uh… why? You always hold onto them.”
“Yeah,” he says, avoiding eye contact. “I know.”
He's been doing that all day. Not looking at me, being vague, hardly speaking.
I don't know if it's because we fucked last night or slept until noon wrapped in each other's arms, but he's been distant ever since we woke up.
If it weren't for the fact that I've been worrying about my court date tomorrow, it would have bothered me more, but I've been lost inside my own head.
“So what’s the catch?” I ask, slowly stuffing the money into my pocket.
Christian watches me from the corner of his eye. “No catch.”
I stare at him, contemplating whether or not I should tell him about the court date, when he sighs heavily.
“I can’t keep doing this shit, man. You're a grown adult, not one of my siblings. The choices you make are your own.”
A heavy feeling settles into the pit of my stomach. “You don’t trust me,” I say flatly.
He turns his head to meet my gaze. “I didn’t.”
That catches me off guard. “And now?”
We face off silently for a short moment. It's not until Taylor announces he's finished with the dishes that we finally look away from one another.
“Let's finish up and go home,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder.
My throat tightens almost painfully.
Home.
From telling me that I don't live in the apartment to calling it home, huh? Just like that?
“Christian, wait,” I say, wanting to get this court date shit off my mind. When he turns around and fucking smiles at me, though, it all dies in my throat. Shit.
How am I supposed to tell him that I might be going to prison tomorrow when he's looking at me like that?
Kingston Blake is certain the judge will take a plea deal, but still. What if the worst happens and I end up going away for the maximum? That's fifteen years. I'll be almost fifty by the time I get out, and all of this trying to do better will have been for nothing.
I can't. I can't take away the light in those hazel eyes or the soft grin on his lips. So instead, I simply whisper, “Thanks,” and get back to work like I'm not facing the end of my life as I know it.
Christian trusts me. Finally. Maybe he even forgives me for the shit I pulled last year.
But as the money weighs heavier and heavier in my pocket, I start to wonder if maybe I'd have been better off not knowing what that feels like when I'm on the precipice of losing it all.