Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
WILDE
I really should have lasted longer than this.
I’m pissed off with myself, but not enough to turn and walk away.
Critters rustle and titter through the trees around me, and as I approach the old house, a darkness settles over my chest. I promised myself I’d never step foot in one of these relics again, and here I am doing it for a third time.
And all because of Hudson’s red-light district window show.
Even if his brothers were watching out for anything suspicious, they wouldn’t see me as I drift from shadow to shadow until I’m standing right beneath his window.
It’s my last chance to walk away, and the ringing in my ears is screaming at me to do it.
My feet are planted though, my gaze steady on that open invitation, my dick already hard at the promise of what’s waiting for me.
I wish I could pretend to be considering this, but when I reach up and grab hold of the windowsill, I know Hudson won’t be at all surprised to see me. Which only makes me more annoyed with myself.
It takes two steps up the side of the building before I’m able to haul myself through the window and get my feet back on solid ground.
The sheet nailed to the wall above my head cuts off my view, but when I shift it aside and step into the room, I find Hudson on his mattress—a normal one, not the inflatable one this time—sitting against the wall, wearing nothing but a victor’s smirk.
His bare feet are planted on the floor, legs casually parted so his heavy balls hang between them.
My gaze lingers on them for too long before skimming higher, following where his cock is lazily resting against his lower belly, to the rippled, pinkish-red burn, to his cuts and grazes and pretty nipples, before I reach his face.
We lock eyes, like Hudson is waiting for me to say something, but I only cross my arms and lean back against the wall. I’m as far from him as I can get, but it’s still not far enough. I don’t trust myself not to touch him.
I’m kicking myself for being in his room in the first place. It’s a clear signal to him that I’m weak. That he’s winning. But when he brushes his fingers along his shaft, I can’t help wetting my dry lips.
City boy or not, Hudson is delicious.
“Oops,” he finally says. “If I’d known you were coming over, I would have thrown on something decent.” The natural curl to his lips hitches higher as his fingers ghost a trail over his balls. “Silly me. Being all exposed like this. There’s no telling who’ll creep through an open window.”
He tugs his balls down casually before slipping both hands behind his head. He’s laid out, offering himself up for whatever I have in mind, and it’s like a drug the way it makes my brain fizzle.
I want to stride over there and swallow his cock whole. The taste of his cum is never far from my thoughts, and my mouth is watering over the thought of enjoying him again. But I’ve already given him the upper hand once. He wants me to go to him.
It’s not going to fucking happen that way.
I drop one of my hands to readjust my cock into a more comfortable position, but I know it won’t be comfortable until it’s inside him, and tonight …
I really want his mouth. That sexy mouth that never shuts up won’t have a choice when it’s full of my dick.
I’m aching for it, and there are so many ways we can do this that I’m struggling to choose where to start.
Hudson draws circles around the bruises on his thigh, the purple already seeping away and leaving a greenish-yellow tint. “You’re not even going to say hello?” His innocent tone isn’t fooling me.
I don’t humor him.
“It’s polite, you know,” he pushes.
“I’m not polite.”
His narrowed eyes light up at my response. “Love when your voice sounds like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you haven’t used it all day, and now you’re fighting yourself over replying, but you want me too badly to shut up.”
Every part of that is unfortunately accurate. I can go days without talking to people, and it suits me fine, but Hudson knows how to bring it out. How to taunt me until I don’t stop to think, just speak, and I need to get better at controlling myself.
Hudson shifts his legs wider, and I have to force out a deep exhale to stop from giving in and closing the distance between us.
“Don’t you want to touch me? ”
He knows I do. Being here tells him that, but so does the way my gaze can’t stop roaming over his body.
He’s not a hairy man, and I don’t know if that’s natural or on purpose since he’s shaved his balls since we were together the other night.
I don’t understand the obsession with manscaping.
Give me hairy and rough and masculine any day.
Not gorgeous city boys.
My standards should be higher than this.
They never are.
I finally give in to rubbing myself through my jeans. “Come here.”
Surprisingly, he doesn’t argue, but before he can stand, I stop him.
“No.” We lock eyes. “I want you to crawl to me.”
A beat passes with only the twitch of his mouth. “Crawl?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to crawl?”
I widen my stance, getting comfortable. “What’s wrong? Don’t know what that word means?”
“No, I do.”
“Then get on with it.”
His attention drops to where I’m massaging my palm into my dick, and when it lifts back to my face, he’s glaring. Hudson has obviously figured out that I’m not playing with my request. Now it’s up to him to decide how badly he wants it.
Will he give in and do what I want?
Or will he test me?
It doesn’t matter how much I want this, if he tries to push back, I’m gone. We’ll try again another day until he works out that I’m not giving up control for anyone. What I say goes, and he might enjoy testing that in general, but he’s going to figure out that when it comes to sex, I don’t relent .
We watch each other for too long. I’m already intimately acquainted with those cute moles by his eyebrow, with that pouty top lip, and the way his mouth gives everything away, even when there’s no sound coming out of it. I’m sure he’s waiting for some hesitation from me. Some sense of doubt.
I give him none.
And his mouth tells me the second he’s made his decision when his lips flatten into disgust and he leans forward onto his hands.
“You’re fucked-up,” he gets out between his teeth.
“You knew that when you invited me here.”
Still, I’m not forcing him to do anything. And when Hudson gets onto his hands and knees, back dipped into a sexy curve, something hot and consuming fills his eyes. He stalks toward me like a predator.
I expect him to get it over with, but he takes his time, shoulder blades rising and falling with each pace as his rounded ass, high in the air, draws my gaze, and I wish I could see more.
I desperately want him to crawl away from me next, but I already know I won’t get away with this twice.
So I enjoy every second of him giving in to me.
My cock hardens the closer he gets, and when he comes to a stop at my feet, he rests on his knees and reaches for my fly. Hudson’s narrowed eyes dare me to stop him, but I drink in every movement instead, clutching my crossed arms tighter so that I don’t reach for him.
That hair is begging me to thread my fingers through it.
“Good boy,” I taunt.
“Fuck you.” He gets my pants open, then tugs my briefs down under my balls.
The heady sound he lets out before leaning forward feels almost as good as his tongue flicking over my slit.
The puff of warm air against my heated skin has my body begging for more, but I know better than to let any of those thoughts out.
“It’s a crime this cock is attached to you, by the way,” he mutters, mouth brushing my tip.
“Why don’t you punish me by sucking until it hurts.”
“I will … if you promise to give our tools back.”
That sentence brings me up short. He’s about to close his mouth around me when I give in and rest my hand on his head. I turn his face so he can see me and tighten my grip in his hair.
“I don’t negotiate during sex. If you want something, you’re going to have to resort to more than blow jobs to get it.” My grip in his hair is a warning. “If you suck it, you’re sucking it because you want to.”
I loosen my hold but leave my hand where it is.
We trade glares, and I wait for him to call this off, but after a second, Hudson leans in.
Those plump lips seal around my dick, and no matter who the hell is on the end of the blow job, this is fucking bliss.
He sinks down onto my cock, wrapping it in wet warmth, tongue massaging the underside as he attempts to drive me out of my mind.
I’ve been horny for days, and he’s not taking things easy on me.
Hudson looks so fucking pretty with my dick in his mouth.
“You have stupid eyelashes,” I tell him, rocking forward into the sweet suction.
His glare lessens for a second as he bats them at me. It has no right to be so seductive, has no right to hold my attention the way it does. I look down at him, wishing I was looking at literally anyone else, while knowing this wouldn’t feel as good if it were.
The permanent irritation only heightens the way I have to have him. Hudson makes my whole body hum completely against my will, and I thrust deeper into his mouth each time he swallows me down.
There’s something about towering over him, using him, knowing he’s as conflicted over this as I am that really turns me on. We’re so attracted to each other that nothing else matters. Not when it feels this good.
The suction and the way he hums around me work against each other until I can’t see straight.
A heavy “ fuck ” shivers from my lips before I can stop it, filling the dark and quiet room with evidence of my need.
Hudson could be an asshole and pull off now, leave me aching and blue-balled, but he answers me with a moan and moves faster.