Chapter 11
Eleven
Liam
This man is trying to fucking kill me. I just know it. I’m not even going to try to rationalize how we ended up like this right now, but, I knew from the moment I pinned him against the wardrobe that this is what I want.
I’m balls deep in my best friend, a guy.
And for some reason, my cock is harder than it’s ever been.
And the loud moan he just let out nearly made me come.
I’ve never experienced something like this.
He’s so… he’s just everything. The way he needs me.
The way he writhes around on my lap so shamelessly.
I don’t understand why, but it affects me.
Makes me feel like I need to give it to him; he needs it so badly, and now that I’m here—buried inside of him—I know that I’m never going to let someone else touch him again.
He has no reason to do that anymore, anyways.
His entire body is trembling, I can feel each shiver against my own skin as he starts rocking up and down. With his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his white-blonde curls bouncing, he looks like a depraved angel. And it gives me something I didn’t realize I even needed.
He kept saying how sick he is for feeling this way about me, but I didn’t want to break it to him that I’m just as sick as he is.
My overly possessive feelings for him have been edging on more than friendly for a while now.
Having my cock deep inside of him means I’m closer to him than anyone’s ever been.
The fact that he’s whining and moaning incoherently just cements the fact that he’ll never need anyone else. Only me.
I stand up abruptly, turn around, and toss him on the bed. “Face down,” I order, voice low and even.
As soon as he flips over, his ass is already pushing up from the bed.
I never expected him to be like this, so hot and desperate—like he’s dying for cock.
And I’m the one who’s going to help him.
I rise to my knees on the bed and hover over him, palming the soft globes of his ass.
They’re completely hairless and tanned to a golden shade like everything else about him.
He’s a golden fucking angel, and I’m about to mar his perfectly blemish-free skin.
I bend forward and sink my teeth into the soft flesh.
He bucks and squeals, instinctively pulling away, but I stroke his slicked-up hole with my thumb, and he slowly relaxes back into the mattress, letting me gnaw and suck at the now bruised skin.
When I’m happy with the red and purple art, I lean back and line up my dick with his entrance.
His breathing turns rapid and flustered as he thrusts back against me.
I push inside, meeting barely any resistance—only soft, warm tightness.
It’s so tight, tighter than any pussy I’ve ever been in, and I feel like I’ll come sooner than I want to.
But, fuck it. I start jack hammering into him, hard and fast. Thrusting as deeply as I can.
My golden angel is absolutely mindless, in a daze, and mumbling things I can’t understand.
He gave up trying to stay on his elbows, so he’s flat on his stomach, back arched as much as he can from this position.
I notice the profile of his face and how his eyes are closed, long lashes fanning across his cheeks.
His lips, that are so ridiculously plump, appear to be dark red—probably from my bruising kisses.
His eyes pop open and he looks at me… really looks at me.
And it throws me over the edge, my balls tighten, and I release inside of him, never once looking away.
I know I’ve never come this hard in my life.
I slowly pull out and he winces, hissing through his teeth a bit.
“You okay?” I pant.
His beautiful face stretches into a smile. “Yeah, you have a huge fucking dick. Like monstrously big, and you just railed me into next week.”
I can barely hold back a smile as I lean down and inspect his hole.
It’s red and puffy and swollen, so I press my lips to it, and he gasps.
As I’m pulling away, I see a trickle of my come leaking from it, trailing down his balls, and my cock starts to harden again.
Thoughts of pumping him full of my cum and making him go out in public with it leaking from him flood my mind, but I tamp it down.
He rolls over and I see a wet spot on the bed. “You came without me even touching you?” I ask. I didn’t see him stroke himself.
He blushes and covers his face. “What did you expect to happen? You were pegging my prostate like it personally offended you.”
I laugh loudly. “True,” is all I say.
I open the nightstand and pull out a pre-rolled joint and put it to my lips. There’s no better feeling than smoking after an orgasm—it keeps that sated high feeling going. After lighting it, I lay down on the bed. Teddy sits up and winces again. “You sure you’re okay? Can I do something to help?”
“No, it’s fine. It won’t be as bad tomorrow.”
“Hm. Come here,” I tell him. He scoots closer and I grab his chin.
I look into those green eyes as I hit the joint, and put my lips against his, blowing the thick smoke into his mouth.
I watch his pupils dilate. When he tries to pull away, I stop him and taste the inside of his mouth again.
His lips are just as soft as they’ve always looked to me, and I enjoy how they feel against mine.
I’m going to own every part of him. Now that I know I can, nothing’s going to stop me.
He breaks the kiss and I hand him the still burning joint.
He hits it a few times and then collapses to the bed, exhaustion finally catching up with him.
I puff on the weed and watch him drift to sleep.
He’s lying on his stomach with his face pressed into the side of my thigh, his breaths fan over my skin, in a way they’ve never done before.
But I like him there. It’s just like when I hold him to my chest.
I need to do something though, so I get up slowly. I step into the bathroom, not bothering to turn the light on and grab a washcloth. After running it under warm water, I walk back to the bed and carefully lay it over his tender crease. I don’t know if it’ll help, but I hope it does.
As I lay down in my bed with Teddy right next to me, it doesn’t feel weird. It doesn’t feel wrong. He’s always been my only soft spot.
Knowing that he’s always wanted me like this makes a lot of things click in my head, though. It all makes sense now. It’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but it never held much weight because I figured he’d just let me know.
I lied when I told him nothing’s going to change. Everything will. I can feel it already. Are we a couple now? I guess so, because I don’t want him to be with anyone else. Ever. I didn’t like him being with anyone else to begin with, so it’s not much of a surprise.
But if we’re a couple, we have to be a couple in public too. I’ve never been one to draw attention to myself, but this is going to leave me with no choice. And I don’t like that at all.
I don’t need him thinking I’m ashamed of him though.
I don’t know why, but he’s always been so sensitive about that.
When we first became friends, he acted like he couldn’t approach me at school, like I wouldn’t want people to know we hung out.
Which is fucked because anyone would be lucky to call him their friend.
I’m going to make him understand that I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks of me. Only him.
When I think back to the girls I’ve been with, they all blur and fade together, and none of them even come close to inciting the same feelings that he did.
I’ve never cared much about sex. I could go to a party and walk out alone, and I’d be perfectly fine.
Happier, perhaps, about not having to deal with someone.
I just thought that sex wasn’t as big of a deal as other dudes made it out to be, and that I might be asexual.
But that can’t be the case because the sight of Teddy’s bare ass in my bed makes me want to rail him again, right this moment. So, I do find someone sexually attractive. And that someone has a dick.
I roll over and lay my hand across T’s ass cheek, the one that’s covered in red and purple marks and close my eyes. We should’ve done this a long time ago.
“You, what?!”
“I fucked Teddy last night,” I state simply.
Damon’s acting like I’ve grown two heads, but I don’t understand why. Everyone’s always joked about how close T and I are.
“Okay, but I thought you were straight.” He takes a bite from his sandwich that Ben probably made for him, since he usually packs his lunch for work.
“That’s why I’m telling you this. I don’t know what I am and figured you could help.”
“You think I’m some kind of LGBTQ+ psychic or some shit?”
I stare at him blankly, waiting for him to get all his laughs out.
“Oh, you’re being serious?”
“Am I ever not?”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Maybe you’re bisexual. You’ve hooked up with a lot of girls, right?”
“Yes, but I didn’t really care about having sex. I just did it out of some weird obligatory feeling.”
He quirks a brow in obvious confusion. “Uh, okay. You might just be demisexual. You only feel sexual attraction once you’re really close with someone.”
I let that idea roll around in my head. I mean, I guess it makes sense. I’ve never been close to anyone except Teddy, and he’s the only person I’ve ever cared about having sex with. It still feels strange to label myself that way though. “Maybe. I guess it doesn’t really matter.”
He nods, seemingly lost in thought. “So, are you guys a thing now?”
I smirk. “What do you think?”
“Well, good luck with that. He’s a wild one.”
“If anyone can handle him, it’s me.”
My phone interrupts our conversation and ‘Mom’ flashes across the screen as I pull it from my pocket. I slide the button to answer it. “Hey, Ma.”
“Hey, baby.” My mom’s southern drawl fills the line. She was born and raised in Georgia, and living in Florida for the past twenty years hasn’t changed that. “Think you could come by today? It’s been a while since I last saw you.”
By a while, she means two weeks. “Yeah, I can do that. Do you need me to bring anything?” She starts listing a few things she needs from the store. She doesn’t drive—I usually bring her stuff when I can, so she doesn’t have to make the trip on foot very often.
“Make sure you bring Teddy, too. Alright, love you. Bye.” And just like that, she hangs up the phone.
Fuck. I didn’t factor my mom into this whole sexual discovery.
She’s an unwavering southern Baptist. I love her to death, but she’s so consumed with her religion.
She makes all kinds of off-handed comments, not realizing how much she’s offending people.
That’s why Teddy has been avoiding seeing her for a long time.
My mom’s always been a pseudo-mom to him.
He relied on our tiny hotel a lot growing up, and my mom’s heart is so full of kindness that she couldn’t help but take on that responsibility.
But would that change now? Teddy paints his nails and wears pastel colors and eyeliner.
Will she just disown him over something like that? Give him a hard time?
The thought sends sickness coiling in my gut. I don’t ever want to have to choose a side between the two of them. I don’t know if I even could.
The only thing I can do is stand up for him, but I’m not going to tell her about me. No fucking way. Maybe in a while. Or maybe I could just keep it a secret from her until the bitter end. That’d be the best way to go.