Chapter 20
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I don’t know which one of us made the first move. It could have been him. It might have been me.
Or maybe it was both of us. Maybe the second our eyes locked across the dining hall, he felt the same hot, electric jolt ignite him into movement that I did.
A flash of something primal and desperate that let him know I was going to bend him over and own him in front of everyone if we didn’t get to somewhere private as soon as possible.
All I know is I’m on my knees, face buried in his ass, sucking and tonguing his hole like I might extract the last drop of lifesaving ambrosia. I’ve got a proprietary grip on his thighs, pulling him back against me while my mouth makes him squirm and push back on my face.
We’re in a stupid position, in the middle of the stairwell where he tripped and I caught his hips to tear off his pants and underwear.
His boxer briefs are torn and hanging off his ankle, pants strewn haphazardly on the stairs somewhere behind us.
Beck has one hand gripping the handrail, the other braced against a stair, one knee pushed up higher than the other, body bent forward in a way that makes every moan, gasp, and whimper echo off the concrete.
My knees feel like they’re bleeding from when I fell onto them so heavily when I tackled him.
But the way he’s falling apart, breaths heavy, and raspy voice breaking as he tries to keep his sounds inside him, is so needy and wrecked that I don’t give a single thought to the likelihood of us getting caught.
All I care about is making him say my name and marking my territory however I can.
Beck struggles to hold the railing as he rocks his hips, whimpering when his silent demands for more only result in me releasing him. I lean back, just enough to look at his glistening wet hole. One hand palms the curve of his ass, the other cups my aching dick.
I rest my thumb lightly against the center of him, not breaching, not giving him what he’s begging for, just circling lazily, admiring the way he trembles at the slightest touch. Leaning forward, I blow a soft stream of air along his crack and press a kiss to his hole.
“How did we end up here?” I murmur against his skin, breath warm.
He answers with a desperate sound that isn’t a word, pushing back towards my hand like he can’t stop himself.
“That’s right. You were being a brat. Isn’t that right?”
Beck groans. “It’s not like you weren’t doing the same thing, and you know it!”
“You started it. I was just proving a point.”
“Okay, well you did it. Point made. Now just… Nyghh—Please, Brody,” he growls, pushing back against me.
I let the tip of my thumb barely penetrate the tight rim of his hole, but don’t allow him to push back any farther. The frustrated little cry he lets out is delicious.
“You really think you deserve to come after that stunt?” I ask, using my other hand to reach into my pants and stroke myself. “Because I think what you deserve is to go back to your room soaked in my cum and go to bed dirty. Maybe then it’ll sink in who you belong to.”
Beck gasps, and his ass tightens around the tip of my thumb.
Goddamn his desperation is fucking me up.
It’s so hard not to give in and give him what he wants, what we both want because the only thing better than making him beg for me is making him come for me.
Hearing my name on his lips as he shatters to pieces.
But he did that shit on purpose. He was asking for me to punish him when his little girlfriend, with her perfectly polished nails and big-eyed innocent smile, sat next to him at dinner, and he pulled her right into his lap. Her pert little ass perched right on his big, strong thighs.
The very same thighs that I’d shoved myself between on the floor of a library study room so I could dry hump him to completion. My thighs. My lap.
That was my man she was sitting on, even if he won’t say it. Even if deep down I know she’s just his beard, a really fucking pretty beard at that, and they’re both pretending. They’re still pretending that he’s not mine, and I don’t like that.
He’s mine.
Mine. Mine.
Fucking mine.
I felt myself getting hot even though I knew he was doing it on purpose.
It was obvious by the way he cut his eyes to me while he was whispering in her ear, checking my reactions every time she giggled.
Or smirked like he’d won something when my eyes tracked his hand on the outside of her thigh as he played like he was teasing her.
Fuck that. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of letting him know he’d gotten to me. I might let Lincoln Beckett pin me on the wrestling mats here and there, but I’ll be damned if I let him win this game between us.
So I looked away. Tried to paint a cool, calm, aloof version of myself that Beck could be proud of. And as I did, I accidentally locked eyes with the baseball player I’d talked to the night of the Halloween party. Tripp Landon, who I now know is the shortstop for the Howlers baseball team.
Tripp is cute, and an unapologetic flirt.
So when he sauntered by to chat with me, I stood up and gave him the attention Beck was so obviously fighting for.
If I’m being really honest, I don’t even remember what he was talking about.
He was telling me something about talking up their team’s batboy in a bathroom the night before, and getting shut down by their catcher, who he thinks is far too involved in the other guy’s business.
I think I might have joked about the catcher and batboy possibly having something going on, which made him bark out a laugh that had Beck suddenly on his feet.
I could feel his stare drilling into the side of my face. Hell, I could almost hear the damage he was doing to his molars from clenching his jaw so tightly.
Very quietly, I told Tripp that I would see him around. Quietly enough that he had to lean in a little too close to hear me. And there was that flirtatious little grin he had no idea was putting him in danger of spontaneously combusting from the lasers in Beck’s eyes.
Then all of a sudden, Beck’s little girlfriend walked between us and pushed Tripp playfully as she admonished him. “What’s this I hear about you harassing sweet, innocent Ellis Hope?” But as she passed me, she gave me her own saucy smirk and whispered, “Well played.”
I chuckled, then cut my eyes at Beck.
We both stood there for a moment that felt long and weighted by the tense energy between us, while the rest of the dining hall seemed to go about their business around us.
Then Beck swallowed, and I tracked the motion of his Adam’s apple and realized I needed to get away from the general population before I ended up knocking everyone out of my way with the huge boner growing behind my shorts.
I suppose Beck realized the same, because he started moving at the same time.
One second we were staring at each other from opposite sides of a table, the next I had him tackled in a stairwell. And now I’m hovering over him, looking into his soul through his asshole, trying to decide which one of us needs to be taught a lesson the most.
He’s bent in front of me, breaths echoing off the cold concrete, whimpering that he’s sorry. His body is trembling, and there’s a puddle forming on the step his cock is bobbing over, dripping because his reaction to me in a state like this is always so helpless.
Oh, fucking hell. He really did do this on purpose.
“Tell me, baby. What kind of reaction did you think you were going to get out of me, huh?” I ask, pulling my thumb from him and caressing my hand over the roundness of his muscular cheek.
He opens his mouth to answer, or possibly to mouth off, I don’t know. Whatever he was about to say quickly morphs into a high-pitched shriek that adds to the reverberation of my palm smacking against his skin.
His whole body stiffens, then shudders, and melts in one fluid movement.
Again. SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK!
With the last crash of my palm against his ass, Beck moans out unintelligible gibberish that includes words that sound like, “Oh my God, I’m going to come.”
I reach around his body to take his cock in my hand, and Beck pushes against me, murmuring, “Yes. God. Yes. Please.”
I pinch the head of his dick hard enough to make him yelp again. Enough pre-cum slicks my hand that I’m almost worried it was too late, but the way he’s cursing me lets me know I was able to stop his orgasm.
I know, I’m awful.
But he asked for this. He wanted this.
Because getting each other off nearly every day isn’t enough. It isn’t enough and it’s too much at the same time.
I curve my body over Beck’s back and speak against the shell of his ear. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I thought we were done with these kinds of games, but I see now that you still want to play.”
Wrapping my now slick hand around my cock, I jerk myself hard and fast. I’m so on edge after this whole ordeal, that it doesn’t take much before I’m shooting all over Beck’s ass. It drips down his crack onto his balls, and I smear the rest of it around with my hand.
Massaging my cum into the hot, red handprints I left on his ass.
“Tell me who you belong to, Becky.”
“Y-you,” he whimpers immediately.
I’m floored. I was expecting him to keep playing the game, to make me force it out of him. But he doesn’t.
“I’m your good girl,” he whispers.
I’m your good girl.
I shake myself out of my shock long enough to get my bearings. But I manage to get myself together enough to wrap my hand back around his cock, shove two cum-slicked fingers inside him, and growl as I make him come all over the concrete stairs.
“That’s fucking right you are.”
Competition days are my favorite. There’s something more in the air than just the smell of sweaty bodies and antiseptic cleaner.
It’s more than Coach’s voice echoing off the rafters of the Huntston wrestling facility, calling us to order with a pep talk that wavers between awkward and violent.
There’s an electricity that hums beneath my skin and gets passed between teammates.
Today is even better, because it’s our first quad meet.
Huntston is hosting three other teams for an all-day competition.
As an upperclassman and one of two people in my weight class on my team, I’ll have three matches ahead of me before the day is through.
Some of the guys are understandably intimidated or exhausted by the idea, especially the newer guys who haven’t competed in a quad meet before. But to me, it’s invigorating.
Getting ready for this meet has been more fun than usual. The one thing that sucks about wrestling is cutting weight, but when it involves getting sweaty with a certain grouchy submissive asshole, I don’t mind it so much.
I’m feeling energized. I’ve been buzzing all morning.
Although it feels like I’m always buzzing lately, whenever he’s in my orbit.
Since the other night in the stairwell, things have been intense, to say the least. I’m not sure what this is exactly, and I can tell he’s still trying to play with me as if it puts more space between us, but I don’t mind the games when the prize is so fucking sexy.
Like finding creative ways to make Beck desperate for my cum before he even thinks to beg me for his own orgasm, like he did less than an hour ago when I helped him with his refueling after getting weighed in this morning.
“Jesus, Miller. What the fuck?!” Cade screeches, shielding his eyes. “Put that thing away, you’re scaring my ancestors!”
I shake my head and laugh as I finish pulling on my uniform. “My dick isn’t even out, Cade. And I told you not to worry about it, it doesn’t want to hurt you.”
“Well thank fuck for that, but why you gotta be swinging it around like that, man? Did you forget to feed it or something?”
I laugh into my sports drink and finish the bottle. “Can’t help it. I was just thinking about this real pretty girl I know.”
Cade starts to nod, but stops. I chuckle, winking at Beck as I walk past him and out of the locker room. I hear Cade’s confused questions as I’m pushing through the door. “Wait. What did he say?”
I’m almost expecting the sharp push that comes from behind me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
Beck tries to look stern, but I can tell from the twitching at the corner of his mouth and the pink flush of his cheeks that he doesn’t hate it.
“What? Should I have told him about how that pretty girl got down on her knees for me and—”
Beck smacks a hand over my mouth and whisper-shouts, trying to hold back a laugh. “Shut it! Shut up!”
“Okay, okay! Geesh, Becky. Who knew you were such a prude?”
Beck rolls his eyes, and I snicker as we make our way to the main gym floor. The other teams are each set up in opposite corners of the gym. Today we’re hosting three teams, UNC, Greensboro, and Davidson College. The wrestlers from Davidson College are set up closest to us.
I hear the snide laughter before I register who it’s from. And in the few seconds it takes to look over my shoulder, my good mood plummets.
Pierce is halfway across the divide between us and the Davidson team, chatting and laughing with yet another familiar face from my past. Gregg Thompson was another rich douche who followed Pierce and his brother around like they were holding court.
And if I remember correctly, he was one of the jesters.
Gregg loved to play stupid pranks, trip me in the halls, and insult my family as loudly, and publicly, as possible.
The more people around to hear his bullshit, the more he got off on his own sick humor.
There’s some more laughter, and a few of the underclassmen who still follow Pierce around join them. I don’t miss the way they’re jeering at me as they snicker and whisper.
Beck snaps at Pierce to knock it off and take the meet seriously, and Sean calls the underclassmen over to him to discuss some last-minute strategy before the first matches begin.
Pierce shoots a look back to Gregg that I don’t like at all.
It’s like I can feel things going sideways before it even starts.