Chapter 4 #2
I stare at the man before sliding onto the leather seat. As the car moves down the road toward the frat house, my hand lands on the door handle, and for a moment, I wonder if I should roll out and escape. But I don’t. And five minutes later, I’m standing in front of the frat house door.
My heart beats in triple time as I stride inside, not making eye contact with anyone as I move through the living room and up the stairs. No one says anything, although a few eyes swing my way. I could be a murderer for all they know.
But no, I’m just here for Colton to murder my mouth with his tongue.
My cock hardens as I make my way to his door, a jockstrap hanging on the handle. And before I can reach out and twist the handle, it swings open, and he grabs onto my shirt, pulling me inside.
The door shuts behind me, and I hear the snick of the lock before his lips find mine. He wastes no time. His tongue pushes into my mouth, his hands moving under my shirt, tugging it up.
“You bring the jersey?” he asks, and I groan as he grinds against me.
“No.”
“You so did,” he says with a smile, biting my chin and reaching for the bag slung over my shoulder. He grabs the jersey from it and holds it up.
“Put it on. Nothing else. Just this.”
I try to resist, I really do, but in no time, I’m completely naked, the cool fabric of the jersey rushing down my chest.
Colton groans, adjusting himself as he watches me. My cock is sticking out, the tip visible under the fabric, and he reaches for it, stroking it roughly.
“So fucking hot. So fucking big.”
He leans into me again and kisses me fiercely, his body rocking into mine.
We groan in unison, his hands grabbing onto my ass and squeezing.
It’s only a matter of time before he walks me toward his bed and we fall onto it, his body climbing over mine.
His hair falls over his face, and I reach up to push it back, making his eyelashes flutter.
“I’ve been watching porn,” he tells me, tilting his head to the side and sucking on my wrist. “There’s a list of things I want to do to a man like you.”
“What kind of man is that?”
“A greedy bottom.”
I glower at him, and he kisses the resistance right off my face.
I just lie there while he rocks into me, sucking on my lips, plundering my mouth with his tongue.
I’m sweating and moaning by the time he peels his clothes off, leaving him naked above me.
My hand moves to his back, sliding up his tan skin until they’re tangled in his hair.
We’re both hard, our cocks pressed against each other.
“I want to fuck you,” he says as he leans down and sucks a hickey onto my neck.
“Don’t leave marks there. Not where people can see.”
He chuckles and tugs the neck of the jersey down to leave a mark near my collarbone instead.
“That wasn’t a no for fucking.”
“That’s a no. You’re not getting anywhere near my ass.”
“Even if I ask nicely?” he says as he grips my dick and strokes, making me arch upward, wanting more. Needing more.
“Yeah, even if you beg.”
He pouts and then leans down and bites my bottom lip roughly. I shove him away, and he retaliates, the two of us wrestling on his bed, the covers getting tangled up in our legs.
But he gets me where he wants me: on my stomach, my face smashed into the comforter, my legs spread apart. My hands are pulled uncomfortably up my back, a slight pain radiating up my biceps if I struggle too much.
So, I just lie there, letting him pin me down, wanting to see what he does.
It truly was curiosity that killed the cat. I’m such a fucking dead guy.
“There, that’s better,” he says as his hand strokes up the back of my thigh.
I shiver at the touch.
“Now, let me look at that ass.”
“Fuck off.”
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
I try to force those words out, but I can’t. I don’t say a thing when he drags his hand up between my thighs and tugs at my balls. And I sure as fuck say nothing when his hand drifts over my ass cheek and squeezes.
I choke but say nothing when he roughly spreads my ass open.
And stares.
“You need a wax.”
“Fuck off.”
“You do. Nothing to be ashamed of. But if you want my tongue there, I want no hair.”
He reaches down and presses against my hole, and the most disgusting sound leaves my mouth.
“Mm, I fucking knew it. You love this.”
“I don’t.”
It’s a lie. He knows it. My body sure as fuck admits it. It arches toward him, wanting him to touch me there again, but he doesn’t. He just keeps me still and drags his finger back and forth, teasing me, but never touching my hole again.
“I’ll set up an appointment for you,” he says, leaning down and biting my ass cheek brutally.
I grunt, pain drifting through me as he kisses his way up my back, rucking the jersey up as he goes.
“I’ll set it up for tomorrow so I can get my tongue up inside of you.”
“Hell no.” But I’m already panting at the thought. Why have I never thought about having my ass eaten? Why is this so appealing? Why is the thought of him all up inside of me making me nearly cum hands-free?
Suddenly, his phone makes a series of beeps, and he huffs in annoyance, my wrists slipping free from his grip as he leans over and pulls his phone off the ground.
He’s bent over me entirely, his naked body pinning me to the mattress. Not that I move. I don’t even try. I just lie there and listen as he murmurs curse words.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, and he grumbles.
“Fucking family, that’s what.”
I try to turn over to see what he’s typing on his phone, but he doesn’t let me.
“Hold on. Stop squirming. Shit, he’s calling me.” He shuffles off the bed and peers over at me. “Don’t fucking move.”
And with that, he strides from the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him.
I don’t listen to him. Not this time. I move off the mattress and press my ear to the door, listening as Colton’s angry voice filters in.
“No, I’m not going. I have a game.”
A pause and then, “Yeah, I can’t miss it. You know that. You fucking know that…”
His footsteps move back and forth, clearly pacing naked in the hallway before he growls. “Fine. Next weekend, then. I’ll be there. Have a car ready. No, don’t show up here. I’ll be there.”
I step back just as the door swings open, and Colton stands there, fuming. Our eyes meet, and his jaw ticks.
“Told you not to move.”
“I’m nosy.”
He shuts the door, the lock clicking once more, and pushes past me.
His arm shoots out as he throws his phone violently against the wall. It doesn’t appear to break, but it does leave a dent in the plaster.
“Shit, Colton. What the hell?”
“Listen, you should leave. I’m too fucking pissed—”
“And what? You gonna hurt me?” I ask.
He cocks his head, and his nostrils flare. “Maybe I’d use you just the way I need you.”
That makes my half-hard cock twitch.
“And what do you need?”
He steps toward me and grabs onto the jersey, pulling me close. Our bodies collide, and one hand shifts into my hair, pulling roughly. It hurts, pain sliding through my scalp, but at the same time, I don’t recoil. Instead, I seem to lean into it, wanting more.
“I just need this.”
His lips meet mine with a bruising intensity. I’ve never in my life been kissed like this. Never been taken like he’s taking me now.
His phone beeps again, and he pulls away, making me whine.
I want more but I know it’s not going to happen.
Not tonight.
“Fuck. I just…” He pulls away, and his hands move into his hair, tugging in frustration. He went from passionate and angry to distraught. “I need you to leave.”
I move toward him and he holds out his hand, silently telling me to stop.
“Leave, Witkoff. I don’t want you here.”
I swallow, hesitating, and when I don’t move fast enough, he shouts, “Fucking go!”
My face scrunches up as anger pulses through me. I yank off his jersey, tossing it aside as I pull my pants on.
“Fine. Okay. I’m going as fast as I fucking can.”
He growls, his hands moving back into his hair, his body pacing back and forth as he murmurs quietly to himself. He’s coming completely untethered, unraveled. The curious part of me wants to stay and watch it happen, but the other part is telling me to run.
Run as fast as I fucking can.
So I do. I toss on my shirt, grab my bag, and make my way out of his room and down the stairs. Hesitating for only a second as I see the car waiting for me, I stalk toward it. I don’t turn back.
I just move.
He doesn’t want me here. And I know I shouldn’t want to be here, either.
But who am I kidding? I desperately want to stay.