Chapter 8 #2
I cry out, my hands flying to his back, my nails digging into the sweat-slick skin.
“Like that, hmm?” he asks, pulling out and slamming back in again. “Is that the kind of reward you were looking for?”
“Yes,” I moan, the word torn from my throat. “God, yes.”
He sets a punishing pace, fucking me with deep, powerful strokes that steal the air from my lungs.
There’s no finesse, no gentleness. He’s taking what he wants, and I’m giving it to him, willingly, eagerly.
Like the twink in the locker room, like the elf against the Christmas tree, like the bottom in the pristine kitchen.
I’m one of them now. A guy who takes cock. A guy who gets fucked.
And I love it. I abso-fucking-lutely love it.
I’m so hard I could hammer a nail with my dick, and it’s trapped between our bodies, rubbing against his hard stomach with every thrust. I wrap my legs tighter around him, hooking my ankles together behind his back, giving myself over to the sensation.
I’m no longer in control. I’m a passenger on this ride, and he’s driving.
It’s amazing how fast the human body can adjust. The burn has faded completely, replaced by a deep, throbbing pleasure that radiates out from my core, flooding my entire body.
My vision is blurry, my ears are ringing, and all I can do is feel.
Feel the thick, hard length of him moving inside me, feel the stretch and fill, feel the delicious friction.
The bed is creaking in protest, the headboard slamming against the wall with every thrust. I’m vaguely aware that someone in the next room is probably going to file a noise complaint, but I can’t bring myself to care.
Let them complain. Let the whole building know. Let the whole fucking campus know.
“You’re so tight, Finn,” he grunts, his breath hot against my ear. “You feel so fucking good.”
“So do you,” I manage to gasp out. “Your cock… it’s so big.”
He lets out a strangled laugh. “You like that big cock, don’t you? You like having it stretch your little ass?”
“God, yes,” I whimper, my head thrown back, my throat exposed. “I love it. I love your big cock.”
“When’d you figure this was gonna happen?” he asks, punctuating the question with a brutal, deep thrust.
My mind reels, trying to grab a coherent thought from the swirling chaos of sensation. “What? When?”
“Yeah. When did you know we were going to fuck?”
I have to think, to dig through the fog of lust. “Chase—”
“C’mon, Finn. You can tell me. We’re past playing games here, don’t you think?”
“Right now, I can’t think about anything else,” I pant, my hips rising to meet his next thrust. “My brain is offline.”
“For me, it was right after she left,” he confesses. “After she slammed the door. I looked at you, sitting on my bed, all hurt and angry and defiant, and I thought, ‘I want to fuck him.’”
My dick twitches at his words. “You did?”
“Yeah. I wanted to wipe that sad look off your face. Replace it with this one.” He reaches down and palms my ass, pulling me closer, deeper. “The one that says you’re getting your ass properly fucked.”
“Mission accomplished,” I choke out.
“You look so good like this,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over me.
“All flushed and sweaty. And you know, I’ve never been into guys.
Ever. I’ve always been straight as hell.
But you… there’s something about you I can’t even explain.
” He shifts his weight, changing the angle of his thrusts.
“Seeing you with my cock in your mouth… that was a game-changer. But this… being inside you… fuck. I could get used to this.”
I could get used to this, too. I could get very, very used to this. But I can’t bring myself to say it. The words are too big, too heavy, too real. So I show him instead, wrapping my legs around him tighter, pulling him deeper, showing him that I want everything he has to give.
And he gives it. He fucks me with a fierce intensity that borders on violent. Balls clapping against my ass. The headboard punching a rhythm into the wall. The light on the desk rattling. The laptop sliding off the bed and onto the floor with a muffled thud we both ignore.
I’m lost. Adrift in a sea of sensation. There’s only the feel of him inside me, the heat of his body, the sound of his harsh breathing in my ear.
I’m a ship tossed in a storm, and he’s the captain, steering me through the churning waves, toward a destination I can’t see but can feel getting closer with every passing second.
It’s the most present I’ve ever felt in my entire life.
There’s no past, no future. Just now. This moment.
His cock in my ass, his breath on my skin, his heart pounding against my chest. And the thought hits me, out of nowhere, that I’ve never been this present with Brittany.
Or anyone else. My mind was always somewhere else, thinking about what I was going to say next, or wondering if I was doing it right, or mentally composing a text to a friend.
But with Chase, there’s none of that. There’s no room for anything else. There are only his arms around me, his body inside mine, his lips against my throat.
We move together like a well-oiled machine, each of us instinctively knowing what the other needs. When he changes the angle, I tilt my hips. When he speeds up, I dig my heels into his back. When he slows down, I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him close.
The pleasure is building, coiling deep in my belly, a tight knot of heat that’s getting tighter and tighter. My dick is trapped between us, the friction of our bodies a constant, delicious tease. I know I’m not going to last much longer.
“I’m close,” I gasp, my nails scraping down his back.
“Me too,” he grunts. “So fucking close.”
“Come in my mouth,” I blurt out, surprising myself. I can’t bear the thought of this ending inside a condom.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“You’re fucking greedy for it, aren’t you? You want it all, don’t you?”
“Every last drop.”
“Fuck, Finn, I’m gonna—” he groans, pulling out of me so fast it leaves me feeling empty and gaping. He rips the condom off, and then he’s straddling my chest, pushing the head of his cock against my lips.
I open wide, and the first hot, salty spurt hits the back of my throat.
He comes with a hoarse shout, his body shuddering, his hands fisted in my hair.
I swallow and swallow, trying to keep up with the flood, but it’s too much.
It spills from the corners of my mouth, dripping down my chin and onto my chest.
The sight of him coming undone above me, the feel of him pulsing in my mouth, the taste of him on my tongue, is what sends me over the edge. I don’t even have to touch myself. My own orgasm rips through me, a violent, blinding wave of pleasure that leaves me shaking.
White ropes of cum are flying everywhere. All over our bodies. The sheets. The carpet. I’ve never come this much in my life. It feels like I’m being turned inside out. And through it all, I’m still sucking on him, milking him for every last drop.
Then Chase collapses on top of me, his full weight crushing me into the mattress. We’re a sticky, sweaty, cum-covered mess, and I’ve never felt more satisfied. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close, my face buried in the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent of him.
We lie there for a little while, our bodies tangled together, our hearts pounding a frantic rhythm against each other’s chests. The only sound in the room is our ragged breathing.
But then there’s a voice. A female one, coming from the hallway. Right outside the door.
“You guys make me sick!” she shrieks, followed by the unmistakable thud of a fist against the door. “You deserve each other!”
Brittany. Of course.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Chase groans, not moving from his position on top of me. “Have you been listening this whole fucking time? That is next-level crazy, even for you.”
There’s no answer, just the sound of footsteps stomping down the hallway, then a final, distant shriek of “Assholes!”
Chase pushes himself up, propping himself on his elbows and looking down at me. “Well,” he says, a slow grin spreading across his face. “At least we don’t have to worry about her anymore.”
I look at him, at the goofy, triumphant grin, at the way his dark hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, at the lingering flush on his cheeks.
I look at the cum drying on my chest, at the bruises already forming on my hips.
I look at the wrecked state of the room, the laptop on the floor, the sheets in a tangled mess, the wet spots on the carpet.
And I start to laugh. Not a chuckle, but a full-on, belly-aching, gasping-for-air laugh. A laugh that’s been building inside me all day, a laugh that’s equal parts relief and hysteria and pure, unfiltered joy.
Chase joins in, and soon we’re both laughing like a pair of idiots, our bodies shaking with it, our breath coming in short, hitching gasps. It feels good. It feels fucking great. This release. This catharsis. It’s the perfect punctuation mark on the most insane day of my life.
When the laughter finally subsides, Chase rolls off me, landing on the bed with a soft thump. We lie there, side by side, staring up at the ceiling and catching our breath.
“So,” he says, after a minute. “You still think this was a terrible idea?”
I look at him, at the dark, serious eyes, the strong jaw, the perfect, kissable lips.
“It was,” I say, and I watch his face fall, just for a second. “It was the worst idea.” Then I reach out and cup his cheek, my thumb stroking the rough stubble. “And it was the best fucking idea you could have had.”
A lazy smile spreads across Chase’s face, replacing the momentary shadow of doubt.
He doesn’t say anything, just turns his head and presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to my palm.
It’s such a tender, surprisingly intimate gesture that it makes my chest ache.
I’ve had this guy’s dick in my ass and down my throat, but this simple kiss on the hand feels somehow more significant.
“Do you still want to go to the formal with me?” I ask. “Even now we know we don’t have a charade to keep up?”
Chase props his head up on his hand and looks at me.
“Are you kidding? Now we really have to go. But for a completely different reason.” He nudges me with his knee.
“I get to show everyone my date. And I get to dance with you. And maybe if I play my cards right, I’ll get a blowjob in the bathroom at the end of the night. ”
I flush, a heat creeping up my neck. The thought of doing that, of being with him in a public space, of being his date, is equal parts thrilling and terrifying. “What about the team? Won’t they freak out?”
“I’ll tell them what I told you,” he says.
“I don’t know what it is about you, Finn.
All I know is that I want to find out. If they have a problem with that, they can fuck right off.
” He leans in and gives me a quick, hard kiss.
“Besides, a lot of them will probably be jealous. You’re a hot piece of ass. ”
I laugh, shoving him playfully. “Look who’s talking.”
He winks, then pushes himself off the bed. “I’m a mess. You’re a mess. This room is a crime scene. I think it’s shower time.” He holds out a hand. “You comin’?”
I let him pull me to my feet, my legs a little wobbly. My body feels used, in the best possible way. Every muscle is pleasantly sore, a dull, satisfying ache. I can feel him inside me still, a phantom fullness, a ghost of the pleasure that tore through me.
“Lead the way,” I say, and he does, lacing his sticky fingers through mine.