48. Harden
M y good boy is a blissed-out little thing when I draw back, pupils blown out and lips swollen, his fat cock still hard as it comes down from his release.
Seeing him like this strikes something deep inside my chest, and I know I can’t walk away from him, not anymore, not when I feel so much for him.
How significant is my trauma when he is looking at me like that?
How much does the past truly matter when I can taste him on my tongue?
Gripping his shirt again, I begin forcing him backward, not even letting him tuck away his dick, as I guide him upstairs to my room.
He clings onto me with nothing but trust, his firm hold grounding me in a way he’s always been able to manage, and for once I let myself sink into it.
I remind myself that he would never hurt me, that Aurora would never hurt me, that I’m safe with them, that sex with them wouldn’t be dark and painful. It would be fucking perfect.
I don’t stop until we get to my bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind us, as I press him roughly against the sink, before leaving him to turn on the shower. “Strip.” A one word command that has him moving instantly, his eyes eating up my movements, as we both slip out of our clothes.
My breathing is labored as panic surges through me, but I swallow it down, because there is no way I’m letting my fucked up mind ruin something else for me.
Nodding my head toward the shower, Griffin moves wordlessly, steeling under the hot spray and backing up until I have enough room to join him.
The water is scalding, but it’s nothing in comparison to the heat flooding through my veins at the sight of his naked form.
God, he’s perfect. All his slick and perfectly defined muscles flexing as the water pours down on us, making my throat burn with the need to trace every one of them.
His body is honed from years of hockey practice, and I want to run my hands over every inch of him, but first I need to rinse off and get myself clean for him.
Reaching out for the body wash, Griffin follows my stare and snatches it up first, swallowing deeply as he grunts, “Let me do it, please?”
I know what he’s asking, and he knows what he’s asking of me, but still I find myself shifting so I can press my back against the cold, tiled wall.
I nod ever so slightly, the only permission I can allow, before he slowly pours some of the soap between his masculine fingers and lathers up his hands.
They start at my shoulders first, gently running across the broadness, before slowly trailing down to my biceps and forearms, his eyes and hands moving in sync over my body.
When he pushes across to my collarbone and across my pecs, I wonder if he can feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest. I swallow more panic as he brushes down along my abs, his fingers exploring every ridge, until a curse slips past his lips.
“Fuck, Harden, you’re so fucking hot,” he breathes, his hands working more soap into my skin, his cock already coming back to life between us. “You have no idea what you fucking do to me,” he adds mindlessly, my eyes tracing the rivulets of water as they drop off his lips with every word.
“What do I do to you?” I dare to ask, desperate for the answer, because right now, at this moment, nobody has ever looked at me the way he is looking at me.
“You make me want things I’ve never even considered before.” His eyes are still transfixed on my body as he begins to clean my lower half, focusing everywhere except for my cock.
I let my eyes close, dropping my head back against the wall as I reply, “You and Aurora make me want everything.” I can’t look at him as I say that, the whole idea of admitting something like that to my best friend, who now feels like anything but.
How would I describe us now? What category do we fall into?
Every word, every title seems too fickle to describe us, to describe all four of us if I’m being honest, but all I know is I am done fighting this, and I am done letting my demons control me.
We’re both rock hard now, what happened downstairs already a distant memory, as my body yearns for more of this, more of him.
“Griffin.” The one word plea of his name is mostly lost to the sound of the rushing water, but still his eyes snap to mine, as if he heard me anyway, as if he always has, even when I was silent.
“Touch me.” I rush the words out, his hands going still against me as he absorbs what I’m asking, and stepping even closer to me.
“I got you, baby.” His words are whispered against my mouth, before he takes my lips in a bruising kiss, his body slick against my own, but still his hands don’t stray.
He pulls back and takes his time washing me, rinsing out his hands and then my body, before doing the same to himself.
I’m panting with need as he lets his hand slather up and down his cock, washing it thoroughly, before slowly reaching out and doing the same to me.
My dick is hot and heavy in his hand, a surprised hiss snapping out of me, as he strokes me for the first time up and down.
His fingers wrap around me and it feels exquisite, like I’ve been sleeping through life and his touch has finally woken me up.
“Griffin.” I curse his name, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, knowing he’s wrecking me in the same way I wreck him. Goosebumps scatter across my skin, even under the heat of the water, the heat of him, because nothing has ever felt so perfect. “More, Griff, I need more.”
His eyes burn with indecision, wondering how much I can take, and the answer is simple.
I don’t know, but I do know that for the first time in my life, I’m asking for something sexual to be done to me, and I’m asking it from him.
His other hand slides up and curls around my neck, with enough pull behind it to drag my mouth to his.
The kiss this time is hungry, urgent, his thick cock bobbing against his fist as he continues to jerk me.
From that point on I don’t know who moves first, but the shower is turned off, towels forgotten, and we stumble back into my room, our mouths never parting.
“I’m gonna be a good boy and suck your dick now, baby,” he grunts against my lips, massaging his tongue with my own between every word.
“Tell me if it gets too much, okay?” His mouth trails down my neck to my collarbone, his tongue lashing against my sensitive skin and lapping up the water, until my legs hit the edge of my bed.
He doesn’t push me back though, as if he subconsciously knows I wouldn't be able to bear it. Instead he lets his knees buckle, as he guides me to sit down. Leaning back on my hands, my chest heaving, I watch as he marvels at my cock in awe, licking his lips in anticipation of tasting me, and fuck if that’s not a pretty sight.
There is none of his usual cocky swagger or amusement, like he knows how serious this is. “You probably should have got Aurora to do this for your first time, she’s had some practice.” A soft laugh slips out of him, and it’s only now I feel how nervous he is.
I reach and grip his chin, pulling his stare to mine.
“Just put your fucking mouth on me, Griff, I need to see my cock between these pretty lips.” I brush my thumb across his mouth, still swollen from my kisses, before parting it gently and dragging him down toward my cock. “Now, be a good boy and suck me.”
Griffin’s stare holds mine, as his tongue dips out and swipes across my head for the first time.
He grunts at the taste, doing it again, lapping at my tip like I’m his own personal treat.
“Fuck, you taste good.” His words seem completely bemused, like he never imagined a man’s taste before this, and it sets off something primal inside me, that I’m his first.
His mouth closes around my head, sucking and swirling in tandem, his tongue flattening against my slit before he sucks me again.
My hand grips the back of his neck, flexing at the base, as I demand him to take more of me.
Our eyes remain locked as I feed my cock onto his tongue at my pace, pushing further and further, watching his jaw relax as he gets used to the weight of me.
The heat of his mouth is unholy, like Satan himself is tasting me, and when his nose hits my groin, he groans deep and long, the sound vibrating along my length.
“Fucking hell, Griffin.” I tip my head back, closing my eyes, as I savor the feel of his mouth, enjoying the way he pulls back and then immediately sucks me deep again.
My hips lift of their own accord, chasing every bob of his head with how fucking incredible he feels, and Griffin meets me with a gag.
He sucks and swallows, licking me with rigorous flicks of his tongue, as he finds a pace and notes my every gasp of pleasure.
He’s ruthless in his attempt to please me, to free me from the cage of my own making, and my orgasm is already building.
“So good, baby, it’s so fucking good,” I praise, feeling him smile around my length in a way that has me ready to explode.
“God, look at you. Look how fucking pretty you are on your knees, with my cock in your mouth.” My words have him moaning, his own cock once again hard and heavy between his thighs, and fuck he has never looked better than he does right now.
My fingers are biting into the base of his skull, massaging and urging him on, as his fingers move to rest on my thighs, forcing himself deeper onto my cock.
“Can you feel me pulsing for you, baby, how fucking hard and desperate I am to unleash down your pretty little throat?”
He eats up every one of my filthy words, almost as hard as my cock, sucking me so fucking sweetly, as I roll my hips into his tight, wet mouth.