Chapter 7 #2
“Tell me,” I murmured, rocking toward him, craving more of his touch.
He released my hands so he could slide his palms up my wrists and arms until he came to my shoulders, where he hooked his fingers under my leather cut and slid it off.
I let it fall from my arms to the floor and watched as he grabbed the bottom hem of my shirt.
He paused, as if waiting for consent, and I swallowed around the excitement that lumped in my throat before I nodded.
Once my shirt was on the floor next to my cut, he brushed his fingers across my ribs and grimaced.
After I’d woken up from the accident, I’d learned that each one of my ribs had broken off from the cage, floating in my chest. There was nothing the doctors could do and my bones healed by themselves, but because they couldn’t reattach how they’d been to begin with, they were a mess.
Touching them was weird—as I’d experienced myself—and they resembled a box of spilled matches when they rejoined to the cage.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his face contorting.
I winced away from him and went to take a step back, but he caught me around the waist and dragged me closer.
“Don’t.” He fell to his knees, fingers dancing across my abs and up again.
He dipped in and laid kisses over my ribs, and I shuddered under the delicate touch of his lips.
I couldn’t remember a time when PD did anything so gentle.
I was caught between craving his cock shoving roughly into me and enjoying every moment of his exploration of my body.
“Don’t hide from me, Will. Never fucking hide from me. ”
He tilted his chin up and looked at me, and I swallowed hard. Fuck. I was doomed. He could say anything and I’d eat it up like an addict.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he said.
I didn’t know what to make of the words.
I didn’t think there’d ever been a time in my life when someone had called me beautiful.
Handsome, sure. Fucking hot? Yeah, okay.
But beautiful? I was a man with a thick beard, tattoos, and a hairy chest. That wasn’t a word the guys I slept with used.
Especially now that my body was all fucked up, with weird ribs and pain that contorted my entire being.
I wasn’t the man I used to be.
I wasn’t Dallas with his pretty eyes or Destiny with his soft appeal. I just wasn’t sexy anymore.
“You are,” PD urged, as if my thoughts were said aloud. Maybe something on my face had given away my disbelief. “You fucking are.” He placed his hands on my hips and squeezed, and I shivered.
What was I supposed to say? I had no fucking idea. The awkwardness made me an idiot, and I hated feeling brain dead. I was already suffering with my mind being a mess and he was making it worse. I didn’t want to feel this way.
I grabbed his wrist and yanked him to his feet, ignoring the sharp pain in my ribs and down my spine.
He frowned at me, but I couldn’t look at his face anymore, couldn’t stand this strange adoration I’d craved for years.
Right now, I wanted to forget I was injured.
Instead, I needed him to fuck me until I remembered who I once was.
I slammed my mouth against his, and he groaned as I scrabbled at his clothes, desperate to get him out of them. I’d seen him naked plenty of times, but this was different. We were going to fuck. All my filthy fantasies about him were about to come true.
His shirt went first, then his belt. I shoved down his pants and underwear at the same time, and he toed off his boots before he bent to get rid of his socks and the clothes tangled around his ankles. Finally, he was bare for me to stop and appreciate.
PD was a work of art, sculpted by Michelangelo—except his dick size, which was fucking spectacular, thank you very much. I was a Picasso, a mess of lines joined in all the wrong places. I kept in the snort that nearly made its way to the surface.
His hands went to my belt, and I startled out of my trance.
I helped him by removing my boots, and then he was on his knees again, tugging at my pants and boxer briefs and socks until he slid them off my legs and past my feet.
He gazed up at me with awe that should’ve been reserved for something stunning. I wasn’t that thing.
“What are you doing? Get up here.” My gruffness made me cringe.
“Why? I like it down here.” He grinned and placed a kiss on my right hip, eliciting a shudder from me. He smoothed his thumbs across my waistline and around my hips until his fingers dug into my asscheeks so he could drag me closer. I went without a fight, eager to have his mouth on me.
I wasn’t disappointed.
He kissed the underside of my cockhead, nuzzling my hard-on before darting his tongue out to taste my slit.
I trembled so much I nearly tumbled over, and I would’ve if PD hadn’t grabbed my hips so tight his nails bit my skin.
“You okay?” PD murmured.
I snorted. “Don’t ask me that while you’re sucking my cock.”
He laughed and the sound worked down to my bones.
“I’m not sucking your cock yet. But here we go.
” He took the head into his mouth and hollowed his cheeks.
My whole world narrowed in on him on his knees in front of me.
This had been my fantasy for so long that it was hard to believe it was happening.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away, and I didn’t want to, either.
He blinked up at me, smiling around my cock as he slid more of the length inside the warmth of his mouth.
I shuddered, pleasure curling at the base of my spine.
He cupped my balls in the palm of his hand, squeezing, ever so gently, with just enough pressure to make me see stars.
My knees trembled and I cursed him under my breath.
He was going to break me before we began.
I’d wanted this for too fucking long, and I wouldn’t last if he kept going at this slow pace.
“PD,” I growled out, grabbing his shoulders. “Get up and fuck me.”
He gave me a particularly hard suck, and I cursed, bowing over at the shot of pleasure that streaked through me. He licked a stripe on the underside of my length, then grinned up at me.
“Let me take care of you,” he whispered.
“Fuck no.” I grasped his arm and yanked him to his feet, ignoring the fiery hot pain that tore through me. Luckily, he didn’t fight as I shoved him back toward the bed, and his grin widened when he fell on his ass on the mattress.
PD held out his hands. “Come here.”
I took a breath and stepped forward, slotting between his thighs so he could lay kisses over my abs. My cock tapped him under the chin, and he chuckled before placing another kiss on the tip. I shuddered.
“How do you want to do this?” PD asked, staring up at me with his big gray eyes.
“Well, it’s usually a couple of cocks and an asshole. Insert tab A into slot B and add in some thrusting,” I drawled. I laughed when he shot me a mock glare.
“Very fucking funny. You know that isn’t what I meant.
” He laid another kiss below my belly button, and I hummed as lust swirled low in my stomach.
His scent permeated my nose and I couldn’t get enough.
Inhaling his smell was my drug, and I was past the point of addiction. I was a full-blown junkie.
“I want you to fuck me,” I said.
He smirked. We’d known each other so long, I was pretty sure he knew I preferred to bottom.
I took a moment to study him, taking in the inked lines of the tattoos scattered across his body.
His cock was shorter than mine, but thicker with a large head.
The small metal balls from his Jacob’s ladder piercing glimmered, and I couldn’t tear my attention away from the line of silver bars along the bottom of his cock.
He smiled up at me as he stroked my thigh before he shifted his hand to my balls, rolling them in his palm again and giving them a good squeeze.
I shivered, and his grin widened as he slipped his hand back farther to my guiche piercing that he’d given me about five years ago.
He petted the skin around the ring, gentle and teasing, and I cursed the fucker under my breath.
His face softened. “We need to talk about how we’re going to do this, Will. You’re still in pain and I don’t want to make it worse. If you’re on your back, it’ll probably hurt your ribs. Same on your stomach, but I want to see your face.”
I cringed. Fuck. If I hadn’t been injured, this wouldn’t have been a conversation. We’d fuck like it was the end of the world. I went to step back, but he grasped my hips and gave me a narrowed glance.
“Stop. I want this and I know you do, too, but I’ll fucking stab myself in the heart before I hurt you more.” He stood and dragged me closer. Cupping my face, he kissed me with enough emotion to nearly send me crashing to the floor again.
All the years of want were centered on this moment, on this kiss.
He pushed me toward the bed gently. “Lie on your side. I’ll fuck you from behind.”
I hesitated for two seconds before deciding not to argue. I’d wanted this for too long. If getting fucked meant appeasing PD’s instinct to protect me—which I didn’t need—then so be it. I was careful as I slipped onto the mattress, then wriggled to the side, giving him room to slide in behind me.
“There’s lube in the top drawer,” I said over my shoulder.
Concern warped his face as he stared down at his cock.
“What?” I asked.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “My piercings will probably hurt. I’ve been told they do.”
I gritted my teeth at the thought of him with other guys. Someone had to tell him that, after all.
“I’ll take them out—”
“Don’t you fucking dare, Paris.”
He froze. I rarely used his first name. He didn’t hate it, but he didn’t particularly enjoy it, either.