Chapter 32 Reaping The Benefits
REAPING THE BENEFITS
KNOX
ONE WEEK LATER
“If this is my reward for finishing with an A in Lit, I would’ve done it a lot sooner,” I say, rills of water jetting down my back from the shower head, a flash-steam of heat in my skull superseding what’s left of my patience.
I’ve got Staten pressed up against the glass, her ass nudged between my thighs, and her cunt choking the length of my erect cock. There was no appetizer to the main course—no foreplay. I needed to be inside of her before lunacy blowtorched all my senses.
After our reconcilement, studying for the last test of the semester came easily to me. In fact, I’ll probably sound insane for admitting this, but it was a nice distraction from all the shit of the past few weeks.
I gave it my fucking all. And my dad, well, he motivated me in a way that didn’t involve fear. I did it so I could be better than him. Now I’ll never let my self-worth be connected to that son of a bitch ever again.
Desperation oozes from Staten’s pores, and the liquid has primed her pussy for the ridges of my piercings, which tickle her internal nerve endings with each hurried stroke.
Nothing separates us anymore—no latex, no unremedied miscommunication.
She’s diligent on taking her birth control, and it was her request to do things… raw.
The glass door shakes each time our combined body weight slams against it, and I slither my hand around her side to palm the soft swell of her stomach where there’s a bulge in her anatomy, carved out to accommodate my pulsing girth.
“Glad my incentive worked,” she quips through a chopped string of words, bearing down on each one of my thrusts with premeditated murder.
A bruised sound rumbles from deep within the fallstreak hole in my chest, and I grind into her at a relentless pace, my heavy balls slapping against the backs of her thighs.
“Ace, if you think I wouldn’t go to the ends of the earth to feel that perfect pussy of yours riding my dick, then you underestimate how fucking obsessed I am with you. ”
There’s an insatiable creature pacing behind the bars of my ribs, hungering, grinding its fangs together in preparation to feast on soft flesh and an even softer artery. When I pry her open on my dick, I swallow her cries as residual tremors go off like artillery fire through my body.
“Fuck! Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she begs, the end of her sentence truncated by a cock-wetting moan, the heat from our bodies outlining her bust in a thin film of condensation on foggy glass.
The margins of my vision are occluded by steam, but that doesn’t stop an embroidery of stars from soldering themselves to the insides of my eyelids.
“No sane man would ever stop when his girl has the most perfect cunt on the goddamn planet. I don’t want you to be able to walk when I’m done with you. I want my cum to leak out of you for days on end so you can remember just how good I fuck you.”
I move my free hand to wrap around her throat—lightly indenting the sides to distribute the right amount of pressure—and my breath feathers against her cheek, earning me a little mewl that relights my euphoria.
“Think it’ll be kind of hard to forget,” she gasps through my grip.
“You can’t be saying stuff like that.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve got my dick in your pussy, Staten. I want to do things to you that aren’t remotely respectful.”
My fingers loosen incrementally around her neck, a cocktail of rapture emerging deep in my stomach, half-translated through a whimper that I contemplate vocalizing.
Each piston of my cum-slicked cock hits that tender spot inside of her, and I briefly lose my finesse when the mix of our moans pierces through a soft-spoken lacuna.
Tits recoiling, her cunt slurps around my shaft, wringing all nine inches of me like she’s hell-bent on receiving an A in sex ed. “You don’t need to be gentle with me anymore. I can take it.”
Oh, fuck.
I’ve always been gentle with Staten. Not because I’m scared she’ll break, but because I’m scared of my own reckless strength.
So, to hear her essentially give me permission to impale her on my dick without mercy has my thoughts offshooting in all different directions, more than delirious from life’s sick push and pull of pleasure.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that,” I growl, plunging inside her ring of muscle, my piercings catching each time she dilates in an attempt to lessen the pain. “Watch how you choke my cock, Ace. Watch how good we are together.”
Her head tips down so she can do as I say, and I make a conscious effort to slowly withdraw myself to the head before spearing back down to the root, the suction of our sexes echoing off the water-resistant walls.
“Oh, Knox! It feels so good!” she screams, milking me in between sloppy ruts, the slack of her body either a result of the hellish temperature or the bittersweet endurance. My hand falls away from her throat, and it reroutes to the curve of her hip so I can guide and control.
“Wanna fill you to the brim, baby. Wanna mark my territory.”
“I’m yours. There’s no competition.”
On one of Staten’s downstrokes, I have to slap a hand against the glass for added stability. She’s the only girl who knows just how to blindside me, and I’m a fucking lovestruck fool for enjoying every second of it.
“That’s right. You belong to me. Nobody else is ever going to see this version of you, cock-dumb, begging to be creampied,” I drawl, bucking my hips against her, my dick fattening with more blood the closer I am to lofting over the whitecaps of my orgasm.
“Territorial much?”
“Keep mouthing off and you’re about to find out,” I promise, reeking of possessiveness, so overstimulated that the only thing on my mind is making my girl come so hard she needs two to three business days to recover.
My voice is shot from straining over the pressurized stream, and I deliver a series of rougher strokes to her sopping cunt, well-attuned to every minuscule twitch of her body that tells me she needs more.
A combination of sweat and water plasters her baby hairs to her temples, her back in a perfect arch that allows the water to mold to the curve of her spine.
She yields to my cock without riposte, reduced to a mess of mewls and untethered moans.
I falter through my sawing motion, finally feeling exhaustion catch up and trap me in a force field of bottled energy.
“Jesus, you’re insatiable,” she gasps, pushing her ass into my crotch with the same vigor.
All my thoughts jam like an overfilled garbage disposal. Staten Renault is the embodiment of perfection, and the prospect of being able to fuck her stupid every day gives me a needed push.
I gently tug her hair back, baring her neck to me, and I run my tongue over the brine that soaks into her flesh—feel her pulse accelerate in an evolutionary response.
“You have no fucking idea.”
She shivers underneath my touch, her legs the consistency of Jell-O and threatening to buckle at any moment.
I can tell she’s almost there, teetering over a precipice she’s determined not to succumb to.
Everything is amplified with her, and the territorialism inside of me seals over my more rational decision-making.
Another slam, another squeeze from her cunt.
She’s at my complete mercy, but she’s miles away from the girl who was terrified to engage in anything sexual when I first met her. She has this greed about her that wasn’t there before, far from well-behaved—an inner succubus that beguiles me to do unspeakable things.
“Fuck, you’re wringing everything out of me. I’m not gonna last. Never gonna last when you milk me like tomorrow’s not promised.”
“Please, Knox. I want your cum inside me. Do whatever you want to me. I just—I need to feel you,” she whimpers, slurring through dropped vowels, reaching her arm back so she can twine it behind my neck.
She pulls us closer—so close that I can’t tell where one of us ends and the other begins.
“You’re gonna feel me, baby. I promise. You’re perfect like this, stretching around me, using me just like you should,” I whisper, skirting the head of my cock around that sensitive spot inside her, dangling her release right in front of her before yanking it away.
Her walls tighten around my girth so hard that I momentarily lose airflow to my brain, and the heat in this glass coffin turns into a nuclear summer in a matter of minutes.
Our pace slows, but the passion is still there. We both bask in the torture—all sense of urgency extinguished—the internal hub of my body bracing for the throes of my cresting orgasm.
“Can’t believe I haven’t paid any attention to my two favorite girls yet.” I snake my hand over her tit, peeling it up from the glass and rubbing my thumb over her nipple.
Staten lets loose all kinds of animalistic sounds, and I realize that I’ve gravely neglected one of her most responsive erogenous zones.
My fingers knead the heft of her breast. “I would turn you around and suck those perky nipples until you squirted if I wasn’t so deep inside you.
Plus, the view is one in a goddamn million—arching your back like the dirty girl I know you are.
Don’t even get me started on this fuckable ass. ”
“I didn’t realize Knox Mulligan was an ass guy.”
“I’m a you guy.”
I’m hitting my limit and judging by the staccato-like sequence of her breaths, she is too. With the last of the fading firelight inside me, I pound into her over and over again, forceful enough to break the glass if we aren’t careful. In my defense, it’s a flimsy thing. Needs to be replaced.
My hand moves up from her chest, and I crook my thumb into her mouth, letting her suck on it to hold her over.
My girl strangles my dick, a rendition of squelching and slapping rising over the consistent pitter-patter of water.
On my last thrust, my balls draw up tight in pretense, and I have no idea what’s happening until my climax crashes over me like a power line collapsing in the middle of a storm.
Hot cum shoots directly into her pussy—barricaded in by my softening cock—and the gush of warmth triggers her to come all over me, drenching my length in semi-white fluid and mingling with my tacky release.
She melts against the glass—ravaged by both the heat and the well-intentioned fuck—and I don’t waste any time pulling out of her so I can finally see her face.
When I gently flip her around, postcoital tears dwell on her waterlines, and her cheeks are redder than the tender innards of a blood orange.
My tone curls with concern, and I reach for the shower knob to turn down the temperature. “Are you okay?”
She nods. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”
“Get used to it, baby. You can have me in any position you want during any time of the day.”
Trickles of arousal slather the insides of her thighs—converging into one stream that races downwards—and I push my cum back up inside her with two fingers.
Staten interlinks her arms behind my neck, pulling me flush against her body, my belly pressed against hers, and my cock finally hanging limp. I can tell there’s something bothering her—it’s in the way her eyes dart downwards and her bottom lip bleeds under her teeth.
I caress the side of her face. “Hey. What’s wrong? Did I go too hard? Was that too much?”
“No, I just…I can’t stop thinking about Leif,” she confesses.
“That’s one way to kill the mood,” I joke.
“I told him that I don’t want anything to do with him if he can’t respect our relationship.”
Oh, Staten. My Staten. The girl who has a big enough heart for everyone.
I tip her chin up so she’s forced to look me in the eyes, and I’m not sure whether her tears are sepulchral or a drowsy aftereffect. They fleck her long, curled lashes, clinging to the fine bristles like the water droplets that cling to her goose bump-scattered body.
“You don’t have to worry about him, okay?”
Refractory guilt makes a guest appearance. “He never used to be like that. He was so kind. I pushed him to become a person I don’t recognize.”
I shake my wet hair, chasing away a fallen tear with the pad of my thumb.
“It was his choice to react the way that he did. You can’t blame yourself for the decisions he made.
The only thing we both have in common is how much we care for you, and if he wants to get back into your good graces, I’m not going to stop him. ”
“Why would you give him a second chance? After the way he’s treated you?”
“Because you gave me a second chance when I definitely didn’t deserve it. You taught me that forgiveness isn’t weakness.”
Her chest rises and falls with a sigh as I turn off the water for good this time, letting the percussion peter out into much-needed silence. The steam begins to evaporate, and the outline of our bodies on the glass mists into nothingness.
“I guess I am a pretty good teacher,” she says.
I nudge her with my nose. “The best. We’re meant to be celebrating, remember? No ex-friend talk.”
This time, when she looks up at me, she regards me as if I’d hung the moon and stars just for her. “Thank you for showing me that life is more than just good grades and unrealistic expectations.”
Love snaps, crackles, and pops inside my belly. “Thank you for being the first person to believe in me.”
“Trust me, you’re an easy person to believe in,” she replies, a smile weaving onto her lips.
As much as I love hockey, it doesn’t define me anymore. It doesn’t define my capabilities. It doesn’t define whether I’m worthy of respect or love. I know I am, regardless of my future career.
“I wasn’t always. You took that chance on me.”
“And I’d take it again in a heartbeat. Though maybe we can skip the whole near-death experience this time.”
I pull her into me for a final kiss, letting the pressure of her lips grind my senses like a mortar and pestle, and the rest of my bothersome worries vanish with each timid swipe of her tongue.
When I close my eyes, a Maldivian blue pulls me under, drifting my boneless body downriver, unanchored by the mistakes of the past. I don’t fear the inevitable fall—nor the cairns of jagged rocks that want to impede my journey—for I know that Staten Renault is going to be there to catch me before I fall off the deep end.
I only pull away enough to rest my forehead against hers, hating even the smallest amount of distance between us. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”