Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Keannen
I GIVE TIM SOME time before going to his hotel room. He’s lucky. Levi isn’t out tonight, just Cameron, so he ended up with a room all to himself.
That works perfectly for my purposes.
I knock, then stuff my hands in my pockets like I have no desire to be here in this hallway. That’s a lie, of course. I initiated all of this. I let myself go back to Tim yet again, let myself get sucked into this slow-motion disaster. When I saw him at the bar, all my earlier caution crumbled, and when he snuck off to the bathroom, I knew I had to follow. Why can’t I shake this guy? It’s so unlike me, but when Tim opens his door, my heart bounces around my chest like an overactive puppy.
I will never, ever admit that out loud .
Tim smiles, all nervous and uncertain, his freckles swimming atop a blush, and it makes my heart do more bouncing and bounding. I remind myself that I hate him before I speak.
“Did you do what I told you?” I say.
“Yes, I think so,” Tim says. “Though, I’m not really sure—”
I don’t let him finish. Neither of us can afford for this night to grow words all over it. Anything but action is a risk we can’t afford to take while in such a precarious state. I shut us both up by sealing my mouth against Tim’s, kissing him so forcefully it pushes us backward into his hotel room.
The door clicks shut somewhere behind us, the automatic lock engaging. Tim shudders at the sound, like he’s trapped in a cage with a tiger.
I shove him backward, hard. He yelps as he falls onto his bed, all messy and unguarded and splayed out. His hair spills across his eyes. His lips remain parted. When I crawl onto the bed like I actually am that tiger he fears, his chest broadens from a deep breath.
“I tried to do it the way you said,” Tim goes on, as though I didn’t already interrupt him at the door. “But I’ve never—”
“I know you’ve never, moron. That’s why I told you what to do. Now shut up.”
I kiss him again, this time pressing him down into the mattress. His hands flutter timidly to my sides, clinging to my shirt. I drag my knee up, sliding it between his legs until it meets the hard bulge in his pants.
“Awfully excited for a clueless virgin,” I murmur against his mouth.
“I’m not a virgin,” he says. “You already took care of that.”
“Yeah, and I’m going to make doubly sure of it tonight.”
He shudders as I kiss my way down his neck. I skip his chest, broad and beautiful as it is, intent on something lower. I scoot back and push his legs wider so I can sit between them, looking him dead in the eye as I undo his pants. Tim watches every move avidly, but says nothing as I strip his bottom half bare. I leave his shirt for now, following the urgency of the moment when I lower myself between his legs.
“What are you— Ah!” he yelps as I lick my way down him.
My tongue explores his hard work, licking the delicate skin of his sac, his taint, his hole. His knees come up around me, caging me in, and his breaths scratch the stagnant, recycled hotel room air.
“Shit, that feels good,” he groans as I circle his rim. “God, that feels so fucking good.”
I know, but I’m not here merely for his pleasure. I also want to feel how he reacts. I want to test his resistance, see what happens when I push. I prod with my tongue, trying to get inside him, and Tim moans. I cling to his thighs as he arches, writhing in my hold.
He really does want this.
I keep expecting him to balk, but he’s dived into everything I’ve hit him with during this tour. He’s never once run, even here at the ultimate test of his desire.
I pull back enough to replace my tongue with my finger. Saliva gets the digit inside Tim easily, and those noises he makes certainly don’t sound like noises of complaint.
Soon, it’s me, not him, aching with impatience. I pull out of him, settling back so I can dump supplies out of my hoodie’s pocket, then discarding the whole garment as well as the shirt beneath it. It’s getting stifling in here, especially when Tim watches me stripping with glazed over, bluntly hungry eyes. His gaze traces every motion as I slick my fingers up properly and return to touching him. This time, I plant one hand on the bed so I can watch him react as my fingers squeeze into him. He takes the first one, but on the second one, he screws his eyes shut and arches on the mattress.
“You’re going to have to take a lot more than that tonight,” I say. “Still think you can handle it?”
“Yes,” he gasps, rocking his hips on my hand. “Yes, please, I can take more. Want more.”
Well, who am I to say no to that? I give him another finger, and while he winces, he doesn’t complain as it stretches him open. His body is hot around my fingers, his cock jutting at his belly as he squirms with desire. He pants for breath, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, those stupid freckles of his like starlight across his cheeks.
I pull my hand free and go for the supplies again. Tim sits up, and a brief flicker of worry streaks through me, but then he strips off his shirt and lies back down.
“Turn over,” I say.
“I want to look at you,” Tim says.
That does something weird to me, something I’m not willing to think about right now. “No,” I say instead. “Turn over or it’s not happening. It’ll be better for you this way.”
Tim’s eyebrows go up, and I realize what I just said. “Better for him,” as though I care. Well, maybe I do, at least insofar as I’m not a complete dickhead who wants to simply get my orgasm and bounce.
“Just do it,” I snap.
Tim finally responds, clambering up and getting on his hands and knees. I strip off my pants, working fast, trying to hold onto the frenzy enabling this ill-advised night, the frenzy papering over all the things I’m trying not to think about. I stand up on my knees behind him, taking him by the hips to position him how I want. Tim doesn’t resist, doesn’t even do the nervous thing of looking behind him. He simply … gives himself to me, utterly trusting.
I can’t stand it.
I have to steady myself more than I have to steady Tim when I stroke lube onto my cock and press the head against him. He sucks in a breath, but doesn’t squirm away, letting me test this final boundary. He stretches open around me, surprisingly receptive for a guy doing this for the first time. I marvel as his body relents to let the head inside, his tight hole squeezed around me.
And then I pause, and both of us simply breathe.
My head is spinning. I set out to mess with this guy, and now I’m inside him, and he’s hot and tight and wanting and it already feels incredible. I give him more, perhaps not waiting as long as I should, but Tim just groans and groans as more of me pushes in. I pause when he has most of me, overcome by the heat, the pressure, the reality of the moment.
“Christ,” I breathe. Then I realize how fond that might sound, so I add, “This virgin hole is so fucking tight.”
Tim moans, clutching at the comforter. He’s hard, which I have to admit is impressive. Some guys don’t get hard from bottoming, but we are evidently unlocking something deep and primal within Tim tonight. And it isn’t only him. I haven’t been worked up like this in a long damn time. Sex is often quick and necessary and mercenary for me, but I could stay like this, clutched inside his body, so warm and held, for the rest of the night. All the hard edges between us have fallen away, leaving us stripped down to our most blunt humanity.
“Move,” he groans. The words don’t register at first, so unexpected, so needy. “Move,” he pleads again. “Please, Keannen, this is torture. ”
Torture. It’s torture not to have my cock fucking him. My hands grip his hips tighter as a spasm of desire flickers through me — then I give him what he wants.
He moans as I drag back, but the cry he lets out when I push in is worth every second of that eight-year-long silence I endured. I go slow, working against the tightness of his body, but he cries out every time all the same. The pressure yields inch by inch. I watch my cock disappear more deeply and swiftly inside him, his greedy hole taking me in so eagerly.
“God, God, shit,” he chants like some sort of choir boy gone tragically wrong.
He starts moving his hips, working with me to get more of me pounding into him, and my mind goes blank at the sight. I could be the virgin here with how vertigo swirls through my head as Tim gleefully works himself along my cock instead of merely taking me.
“Greedy,” I snarl, fighting for some semblance of control.
It’s a losing fight. This is too real, too raw. There’s nothing left to shield me from the reality that I want this man so, so bad, and not simply because his body is beautiful. I want him . I want the man I never got to want eight years ago. Having him at last is driving me insane.
“Does it feel good, baby?” I rasp. “Tell me.”
“Yeah,” he whines, voice pitched high. “Yeah, so good. Oh God, so good. I… Can I come? Can I … can I come like this?”
I don’t know if he’s asking me or himself, but it makes me drive into him even harder, hips slapping against his nice, firm ass. He’s all but tearing the sheets, his whole body moving with me to take me deep and hard, his cock bouncing against his belly.
I grant him mercy, but only because it’ll hide how badly I require that same grace.
“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, come on my cock, baby. Come from me fucking you.”
He groans, reaching desperately for himself and pumping swiftly. I increase my pace, chasing him over the edge, leaping gloriously into the unknown with him. He screams, body clenching around me, and the heat and pressure rush over me in a dizzying wave. I nearly swoon as I come inside him, my very soul emptying out through my cock as Tim moans and moans and moans.
I’m light when I return to myself. Dread starts to trickle in, but my mind floats somewhere outside my body even as I ease my softening cock out of him. Tim groans and flops onto the bed, and I don’t even complain as I get up to take care of cleaning both of us up myself.
When I’m done, I toss the rag on the floor and … flop down beside him. It’s not a conscious choice. My body simply does it. Once I hit that mattress, I know nothing is dragging me off of it for a long, long time.
Tim blinks at me, heat lingering in his face, but he says nothing as I get under the covers with him.
I don’t dare speak either.