Chapter 7 #3
I groaned in frustration at my outburst. “I want it. If it hurts, I don’t care, I’ll even welcome it.
I’ve been in pain since this accident. Maybe for once, I want to decide where it hurts.
Maybe I want control of my body. If getting your cock into me here and now means a little bit of discomfort and pain, then I don’t care.
Fuck me. I’m not a fucking princess who needs you to make everything feel great. ”
PD assessed me for a long moment, too long, before he gave me a sharp, understanding nod, and that was what I hated and loved the most about him.
He was good at following the dominos down the path I laid out and watching them fall into place.
He cared. As annoying as it was when he pushed, the rational part of my brain—if that even existed anymore—knew I’d do the same for him if he was in my position.
He opened the top drawer and rustled through the contents until he found my bottle of lube, the only real item I’d unpacked from the bag I’d brought here. “Condom?”
“Nah. Don’t need it. I’m negative. You’re not stupid, and I trust you.
” I shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.
PD was careful about everything he did. He was careful when it came to his tattoo parlor and had always been safety conscious, even if he was a biker like the rest of us.
His mouth quirked into a quick smile and he gave me a short nod before he settled in behind me.
I closed my eyes and focused on my other senses.
The warm musk that was part cologne and part his natural scent.
The way his strong chest touched my back.
How he breathed heavily with lust. As we got closer to being together, everything became more real.
The lid of the lube clicked and sounded loud in my ears, creating a symphony with the beating of my heart. His touch to my hip set my body on fire, and I bit my lip to hold back a demand that he get on with it. My impatience teetered on the edge of an outburst, but I held it in.
He grabbed my knee and pushed it up so it was bent, giving him more room. Wet fingers nudged my entrance. It’d been years since I’d fucked someone—before my accident. More pain would come from the stretch, but I welcomed it, especially remembering the pleasure that would come with it.
The first finger in was uncomfortable but didn’t hurt.
The burning sensation was an old friend, one I was happy to feel again, especially when it came from PD.
He kissed my shoulder, and I clenched my eyes tighter as I contemplated the physical feelings.
When he pressed the second finger in, there was a bit of pain, but nothing much.
Dealing with my ribs and back was a lot worse than this.
He laid butterfly kisses across my neck and shoulders. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Will. Fuck, you make me so hard.”
I shuddered, the gruffness of his tone sending pleasure spirals south to my cock, which jerked.
“Want to fuck you so bad.”
“What are you waiting for?” I bit out, finally opening my eyes as I glanced over my shoulder at him. “I want your cock.”
He swooped forward and slammed his mouth against mine, and I groaned into the hard kiss. He tasted coppery and sweet. “You sure?”
“Stop asking me and just put your cock in my hole.” I forced myself to smile despite the nervousness that struck me. How much would it hurt? Pain wasn’t anything new, even before the accident, but all at once, the fear of it weighed heavily on me.
The sound of lube squirting reached my ears.
I licked my lips, chasing the taste of PD on them.
He looked down while I kept my gaze on his face, unable to tear my attention away.
Then, the head of his cock was at my hole and his hand was at the back of my knee, raising my leg to give him more access.
“Tell me if you’re in pain, all right?”
I rolled my eyes but offered him a half smile. “I’m always in pain, but yeah, sure. Stick your cock in.”
“That’s a nice slogan right there. Just stick your cock in.” He grinned, then the pressure at my entrance grew as he slowly pushed inside.
As the first bar of his piercing entered me, a strange sensation tickled my insides—not quite discomfort, but not enjoyment, either. It was new, and I couldn’t help but squeeze around him as another bar went in me.
“Okay?” he murmured.
A shiver slid through me. I managed to make a sound of agreement. Tilting my hips back an inch or so, I continued to stare at him as more and more of his cock pushed into my hole. Soon he was balls deep and nudging my prostate.
He squeezed my knee and buried his face against the back of my neck. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” His breath fanned across my skin, teasing. He rocked his hips, and we both groaned.
“Kiss me,” I demanded over my shoulder, and while he chuckled, he did as I’d ordered.
He slanted his mouth over mine and pressed in closer, his chest hot against my back.
We kissed like this was our last day on Earth, like the accident never happened and the years between then and now were nonexistent.
In this room, there was me and him. Rook and PD.
I never wanted anything to change. I didn’t want to be the injured King, I needed to be Rook again, and it felt as if I was stealing my former self back.
Then, he began to move.
The whole world narrowed on him, and us, and his cock inside me.
I shoved the agony in my ribs and back to the dark recesses of my mind, focusing solely on the drag of his Jacob’s ladder in my ass, the stretch of his cock.
I reached around to grab the back of his head and force his lips against mine.
We kissed with a bright burst of passion I’d never experienced. It was as if he wanted to consume me, and all the years of yearning amounted to this moment, this need.
He moaned into my mouth, and I nipped his bottom lip as he thrust into me, hammering my prostate. He played my body with the finesse he used on one of his tattoo guns. I was quickly tumbling into an abyss of satisfaction.
He let go of my leg and spat in his hand before hooking his elbow under my knee again and grasping my cock. He stroked up my length, then dipped lower to fondle my balls and play with my guiche piercing.
The bastard gave the ring a tug.
I threw my head back against his shoulder, trembling so hard I expected to vibrate off the bed. It’d been too long since I’d had a cock in me, but PD’s? Fucking hell. I’d dreamed of this.
He kissed a line across my shoulder and sucked a bruise into my neck.
“Come for me,” he whispered, desperation thickening his voice. “Make a mess.”
It was hard to argue with him when I was already tumbling into my orgasm. Between him hitting my prostate with determination, the strange feeling of his piercings scraping my sensitive hole, and his hand around my cock, I was already too far gone.
Me and him.
Will and Paris.
Rook and PD.
That’s who we were, are, and would forever be.
How could I ever walk away from him?
“Come, Rook. Take. This. Dick. Come for me.”
How could I deny him?
My toes curled with tension as he growled and angled his hips slightly differently.
A few thrusts sliding just right into my ass, and my orgasm hit me hard.
Sparks sizzled through me. The intensity ripped me apart, leaving it difficult to breathe for a moment as my cock jerked, painting the bed and PD’s hand with cum.
I shuddered through the force of the feelings, making sounds I’d be embarrassed to remember later.
PD was right behind me, though, in more ways than one. He bit down on my shoulder, and I moaned as his warmth spilled deep inside me. He muttered nonsense around my skin between his teeth until he slumped against my back.
“Fuck.” He laughed quietly, then pressed a kiss to the indentations he’d left on my body. “That was fire.”
I smiled, for once feeling like myself again. “Yeah.”
“You okay?”
And the moment was ruined. I sighed, too tired to make a fuss about it. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Let me clean you up.”
I stayed quiet as he slid out of bed.
Tonight, we could sleep in peace.
Tonight, I didn’t want to think about him babying me again.