14. Maddox #2
I hold back a sigh. Of course he wouldn’t take the hint and hang up. It’s Killian. This is weird as fuck though—I can’t be talking to him while my cock’s this hard and leaking, while I’ve got something pushing up against my prostate. It’s wildly wrong.
And also so fucking hot.
“We’ve got an away game next Wednesday, so I can’t come to our tutoring session,” he tells me. “You should come to the game, though. Do you have classes that day?”
I hear a door being shut, and it’s no longer noisy on the other line. Maybe he’s in his room now? His voice is softer, and I wonder if he put me on speaker and placed his phone aside or something. I also hear some shuffling noises, as if he’s removing his clothes. His coat, probably.
Maybe his shirt, too? My cock leaks at the thought because it clearly exists to torture me. Biting down on my lip, I reach down and wrap a hand around the base of my shaft. I tighten my grip to get it to behave.
“That’s fine,” I say when I realize Killian’s waiting for an answer. I’m vaguely aware he had another question, but I can’t get my brain to function at its full strength right now .
“You okay?”
I blink at the ceiling. “Huh?”
“You sound kind of breathless.” He chuckles. “Oh my god, are you at the gym? That’s a surprise.”
“I was napping,” I remind him.
“Oh, right. You coming down with something then? Because you really do sound out of it. Need me to get you dinner or some medicine? I really like the chicken soup at the diner just outside of campus. Mabel’s. You ever been there?”
I need him to shut up. I need him to please hang up, but I don’t know how to tell him that.
My thighs are beginning to ache from how I’ve got them tensed up, with my knees bent and the toy stuffed too far into me.
The sensation’s too much, and with Killian talking and talking and talking, I don’t know what to do.
He’s right, though. I am getting breathless, and there’s a pressure in my chest that’s also intensifying by the second.
I want to shout. I want to cry, too. Frustrated, I bite down on my knuckles hard enough to almost pierce my skin, and when I let go, there are crescent marks on my hand.
Killian keeps talking, and my eyes flutter closed. His soft voice is a huge contrast to the turmoil happening on my side, and… insanely enough, his voice lulls me. Calms me. Makes my breathing even out.
And my dick stays hard.
Maybe I can just slip the stupid dildo out and throw the damn thing on the floor—
With one hand still wrapped around my cock and staving off my impending orgasm, I grasp the base of the dildo. My fingers are trembling. I pull it out, but then it nudges against my prostate, and I suck in a breath.
“You sound awful,” Killian says. “I’m heading over—”
“No!” I shout. I moan.
Silence.
“Maddox,” he says, carefully. Gently. I swear his voice drops an octave. It’s almost as if he’s talking right by my ear. I can imagine his warm breath against my skin, and it makes me bite back a sob. Killian murmurs, “What are you doing?”
“N-nothing.” I shift the toy out further, biting down on my lip so hard I’m sure it’ll bruise. I just need to get it out of me.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing.” He lets out an awkward laugh. “You getting rid of your pent-up stress right now? It’s no big deal. I’ll hang up and give you your privacy.”
This man. This goddamn man and how sweet he is. I can’t believe how unreal he is. How can someone be so understanding despite how idiotic and deranged I’m acting?
“I’m not doing anything,” I lie.
“Okay.”
Letting out a breath, I yank the dildo out of me in one swift and final motion.
There. I’m safe now, and empty and cold and want to break down.
But I’m safe now. I loosen the grip I have around my cock, though it’s still rock-hard and begging to be touched properly.
Furiously, I wipe away the tears on my cheeks. I didn’t even realize I was crying.
I want to come. Badly.
“So what do you think about what I was asking about the away game?” he asks.
“What were you asking?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds. Did he forget his own question? I lay back on my pillow and wait.
“Do you want to come?” he asks, and I’m sure I’m not imagining the huskiness behind it. The raspy way he says it. How his voice hitches on the last word.
Fuck me. I can’t do this.
“I need to hang up,” I blurt, ignoring his question completely.
He lets out a shaky laugh. “Got it.”
My lower lip trembles, and I close my eyes, attempting to slow down my racing heart. Controlling myself. Getting a handle on this mess I’ve put myself in. My voice comes out low but surprisingly calm when I say, “Please don’t forget to study for the upcoming test and the one you need to retake. ”
“Okay,” he murmurs. “Bye, Maddox.”
I don’t answer him. I simply end the call and sit up.
He knew. There’s no doubt about it.
And because I’ve got no concept of self-preservation, I curse myself and wrap my still-slick hand around my cock. I thumb at the slit and spread the pre-cum down my shaft, my chest thundering as I stroke myself.
It’s the memory of his words— Do you want to come?
— and the way he said them that sends me right to the edge.
I no longer tell myself to stop thinking about Killian.
To stop imagining that he’s here with me, that he’s the one touching me.
My orgasm hits me all at once, strong and sudden and disarming.
The pleasure blooms inside me, spreads all over and takes over every part of me.
And Killian’s face is in my mind the entire time, even when I’m panting and catching my breath and getting myself together.
Fuck.
He was right before when he said he doesn’t even need to touch my dick to get me there.
I collapse on my bed, boneless and out of it, with my shirt and stomach sticky. My mind is clearer but still not there. There’s still something missing. It was close, especially with the memory of Killian’s voice, and it was good, but it wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t what I needed.
A hookup app won’t solve anything for me. My own hands or a toy won’t do the trick, either.
I need Killian inside me.