Chapter 14 #2
Cullen lets out a soft “oh, fuck,” his finger driving into his ass relentlessly.
“If you make yourself come, I’m still going to fuck you breathless.”
He groans, but his finger slows to a steady pace.
This view of Cullen might ruin me forever.
He is up to a third finger now, but then he tries to wedge his pinky in there too.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” I grunt, fucking myself again.
“Please, please fuck me, baby.”
Damn. I love hearing Cull beg.
The squelching of his fingers almost sends me over the edge, so I pull my hand free and line myself up, rubbing my cock through the leftover lube. He pulls two of his fingers out, leaving his middle and ring fingers buried deep.
“Move your hand,” I command gently, ready to fuck him until he can’t walk straight.
“No,” comes his husky reply.
I hesitate. The last thing I want to do is hurt him, and I know this might be more than he can handle. He’s still new to this, considering I’ve played with myself for years. I tell him as much.
“You know I like the bite of pain. If it becomes too much, I’ll move them.”
Trusting Cull knows his limit, I carefully notch the head of my cock to his ass, grabbing the lube and dribbling more over my length as I press in. We both hiss at the same time, the pressure almost euphoric.
“You okay?” My legs are trembling with the need to slam into him, but I breathe deep to keep hold of my sanity.
“Hell yes, keep going. Don’t stop.”
I keep pushing in, careful not to hurt him more than what he’s hoping for.
Once I’m fully seated, I take a moment to compose myself. I’ve never in my life felt something so good, and that’s saying a lot, especially with the sex Cull and I have had.
My hands tighten on Cullen’s hips as I pull back nearly all the way, then thrust forward, my eyes rolling back.
“Fuck yes!” Cull yells.
His eyes are scrunched closed, a blissed-out smile playing on his lips.
I pull back and drive forward again, setting a relentless pace.
The garbled words spilling from Cullen’s mouth are one of the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard. His moans, grunts, and incoherent praise are for me alone, and the knowledge sends a rush through my chest.
I’m more confident now than I was the first time we did this. My movements are smoother, my instincts stronger. I’ve learned what he likes, what makes him unravel, and there’s something intoxicating about knowing I can give that to him just as surely as he does for me.
My pace quickens, a shiver racing down my spine.
“Shit, I’m going to come.”
In a move so fast it leaves me blinking, Cull rolls us, pinning me beneath him. He hooks his arms around my legs and drags me to the edge of the bed.
He’s shoving into me before I can process what happened. A vein stands out in his neck with the effort, but he doesn’t slow down. The intensity of it steals the breath from my lungs, leaving me unable to do anything except hold on.
“You said you weren’t choosing,” he says through labored breaths. “Now it’s my turn.”
Yup, I’m not complaining. Cullen is pegging my prostate with the perfect amount of force, my balls so heavy they border on pain.
I’m shoved up the bed with each of his thrusts, and each time he yanks me back down to the edge. Sweat glistens on his forehead, and every rough sound that escapes him sends a shiver racing down my spine.
My hand goes to my cock, tugging frantically. “I’m coming,” I gasp, just as the first jet of thick cum hits my chest.
“Good boy, baby. I love how you come for me.”
The streams seem neverending, the waves of my orgasm dragging out with each hit Cull makes to that spot deep inside of me.
Cullen’s movements start to jerk, his head tipping back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Every muscle in his stomach flexes as his orgasm crashes over him. He draws a sharp breath, ramming into me so hard I swear I see stars.
He slowly comes to a stop, his hands a bruising grip on my thighs. I lay there, breathless, sated, and in awe of what just happened.
“We just flip fucked,” I wheeze out, my breath coming in ragged pants. Cull carefully lets go of my legs and falls next to me on the bed, his breathing just as labored as mine.
“Hell yes, we did, and it won’t be the last time. That was fun.”
The smile that spreads across my face feels cartoonish. “Agreed. How the hell did you get me on my back so fast?”
He grins. “Years of elite athletic training.”
“You’re a soccer goalie,” I remind him, chuckling.
“Exactly. Peak human performance.” He elbows me. “Laugh all you want, but when the robots rise up, you’ll be grateful for my lightning-fast reflexes.”
I snort. “Pretty sure that’s not going to happen.”
“That sounds exactly like something a future robot casualty would say.”
Still grinning, he slides off the bed and stretches. “I need to hit the gym. My legs are pathetic. Soccer season ends and suddenly my quads decide retirement sounds nice.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
He points at me. “Tell that to my quads.”
I glance down at my body, still lean from my time in the hospital. “I think the gym might be a good idea for me, too. May start with the leg press or stair climber.”
“Look at us.” Cullen takes my hand and helps me stand. “Two hot dudes trying to get swole. Give it a week and we’ll be posting workout videos online.”
I laugh as he leads me into the bathroom. “Let’s not.”
“No promises.” He starts adjusting the shower knobs. “I’ll text Coach later and see if we can still get the student-athlete discount at Maxwells Fitness. If not, we’ll just stand outside looking sad until they let us in.”
The joke lands, but something about him feels off. His smile lingers, yet his attention seems fixed somewhere beyond the bathroom wall. When he reaches for my hand and pulls me beneath the warm spray, that uneasy feeling settles deeper in my chest.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” The answer comes quickly, clipped.
“Cull.”
“I’m okay, Hud.”
But he’s not. His shoulders are tight again, and there’s a strain around his eyes that wasn’t there just a minute ago.
I lather shampoo into his hair and massage his scalp. He relaxes slightly, bracing his hands against the wall as the water runs over us.
“You’re not okay,” I say quietly. “I know you’re not sleeping well, and your mood swings like a pendulum. You went off by yourself to Mason’s house, and whatever happened there ended in a pretty bad panic attack.”
His breathing changes. Water streams down his bowed head, carrying suds toward the drain. He doesn’t answer.
“Cull, talk to me.”
He takes a long, shaky breath before finally turning around. Tears track through the water on his cheeks, but his eyes are guarded.
“I guess I’m just tired,” he admits. “Like you said, I’ve not been sleeping well. And I’ve been having nightmares.”
His hands rest on my hips, fingers tightening slightly as he rests his forehead against mine. I slide my arms around him and rub slow circles across his back.
“That’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
“No.” The word comes immediately. “Don’t do that. You couldn’t help what happened.”
No point in responding. He’d just argue.
We stay like that for a while, letting the water wash over us. When we finally pull apart, neither of us says much.
My phone rings while we are toweling off. I quickly wrap the soft cotton around my waist and grab my phone from my shorts pocket, Ella’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hey, Ella,” I breathe into the phone, a little winded. I smirk at the rumpled bedspread, my ass deliciously sore.
“Hi! So I got rid of my parents for the day. Want to come over and hang out?”
My nerves prickle. Ella’s parents haven’t tried to reach out to my parents since the day they got into that fight.
Even when I was in the hospital, they didn’t try to call.
My mom has been torn up over it, her best friend of over twenty years just throwing everything away for rumors and misunderstandings.
My dad hides it better, but I can see the sadness in his eyes whenever Ella is around.
Hadley and I used to be fixtures at the Hackford's. Their door was never something meant to keep us out, always open whenever we wanted to drop by.
Now it’s meant to keep me as far away as possible.
“Uh, Ella, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if your parents come back while I’m there? I don’t want you getting into trouble.”
And I don’t want to get screamed at again.
“Trust me, they won’t bother us. Please come? We’ve not been able to hang out much since you’ve been home.”