22. Reed
Wilder Miles is easily one of the hottest men I have ever seen, but never has he looked better than he does right now, with his mouth lapping at my cock.
His tongue swirls around my head, tasting the precum as it spills from my tip, before he flattens his tongue and drags it up my full length.
His hand still jerks my base, his palm hot and calloused, giving me the perfect amount of friction, which he only increases when he pulls back and spits into his palm, getting it nice and slick.
“Oh my fucking God,” I hiss, his teasing already ruining me, and he smirks against me wickedly.
“What did I tell you about that, Blue? Say my name when I’m making you feel good, or I’m gonna have to stop and punish that pretty mouth.” His words are a complete warning, one I can’t refute, because he is dragging my length across his tongue in the most erotic display I’ve ever seen.
This isn’t like the night on the balcony, or the deck.
Back then, we were both drunk and chasing something completely different.
Now though, he’s seeing a side of me I’ve never shown anyone, not just Prescott or Reed, but every single part of me.
My heart is bleeding and exposed, and instead of running for the hills, he has dropped to his knees to help me contain the spill.
“Wilder,” I moan, watching in awe, as he finally closes his mouth around my cock and takes me deeper, and I already feel ready to explode.
My entire body is burning with pain, my muscles aching in places I didn’t know possible, but Wilder is erasing it all with just his tongue.
My fingers slip down to the base of his neck, holding him in place as he bobs up and down, and fuck I could stay here forever.
He doesn’t treat me like I’m an abomination, nor does he hold back, no, he sucks me hard and deep, taking every inch of me with ease, and I never want him to stop.
“You look good with my cock in your mouth, Miles,” I grunt, memorizing the way he is working me over. “You suck me so good.”
His eyes flick to mine, and he holds my stare as he takes me all the way to the hilt, and my cock throbs on his tongue.
I only have to nod to get him to pull back and do it again and again, moving his head faster, sucking me harder and deeper.
His emerald eyes never leave mine, and I let myself get lost in them completely.
There is no trauma, no fucked-up family, just Wilder Miles and his perfect fucking mouth.
He breathes roughly through his nose, sucking me with an expertise I have never felt, and never would have expected from him, and I can’t get enough.
The green in his stare is glossy with unshed tears now, but still he keeps taking me to the back of his throat.
His mouth feels incredible, taking me in a way that is so fucking possessive and primal, that the pain is almost worth it.
A connection blooms between us, one built on sex and secrets, and somehow it’s the realest thing I have ever felt.
We’ve spent weeks forced together, and I could try and deny it all I want, but I feel something every time he looks at me.
It may not be something I can fully explore, but right now, when it feels like the world is against me, I’m going to allow myself to indulge.
Wilder watches me with intense eyes, working me with his mouth and hand in tandem. “Fuck you taste good,” he groans, the words vibrating across my shaft, as he licks and sucks me throughly.
“I know the feeling,” I grunt, holding his stare, as I recall how good it felt to have him in the back of my throat.
His free hand slides up my chest, careful not to touch any of the bruises littering my torso, until he can press his fingers against my mouth. I part my lips, letting him slip them against my tongue, rubbing them back and forth, as I mimic sucking his dick.
“You’ll have to be a good boy to get my cock again,” he tells me, and fuck I have never wanted to please him more.
I dig my hand into his hair, and I can’t stop myself from thrusting up into his mouth, chasing the high I need now more than ever, as he pulls his spit-soaked fingers from my mouth.
Only then does he start sucking me thoroughly again, and I meet his mouth on every bob of his head.
I feel his hand slip below my balls, shoving past them until he can press against my ass, massaging it roughly.
I hit the back of his throat at the same time he slips the tip of his finger inside of me, and I groan deeply. “I’ll do whatever you fucking ask as long as you don’t stop,” I plead, and my words only have him doubling up on his efforts, as he moans around my length.
The vibrations are nothing short of perfect, his finger now fucking me with quick snaps of his wrist, and it’s all becoming too much.
I can feel my muscles constricting, pain and pleasure swirling together as heat floods me from head to toe.
I thrust down onto his finger and up into his mouth, the feeling of him the only thing that matters.
He swallows around me at the same time he finds that spot inside of me, and I explode without warning.
Wilder doesn’t stop though, just keeps working me over, as my orgasm splashes down the back of his throat in thick ropes.
He sucks me dry, his finger still pushing back and forth, until I am completely empty and spent, and if I weren’t already on the bed, I’d collapse on the floor in a heap of pleasure.
His eyes are still glossy and intense as he draws back, picking up the excess cum from my tip and swallowing it down, licking his lips.
When he rises to his feet, his stare trails over every inch of me, and I sit up quickly and reach for his belt.
My mouth is aching to return the favor, but he stops me with gentle hands, already shaking his head.
“Tonight isn’t about me,” he grumbles, despite the fact I can see the thick length of him pressing against the seam of his jeans. “Get yourself in bed, you need to rest.”
I’m not stupid, I know it’s an order, but as he puts space between us, I can’t help but feel the need to pull him against me. He’s still watching me, like he’s scared to look away, but he backs up all the way to the dresser, before offering me a small smile.
“Get in bed, Reed, that was an order.”
It isn’t lost on me that he didn’t use my first name, and somehow I appreciate that more than him sucking my dick.
Only once I start to move does he make his way to the door, offering me one last gentle smile, before he slips out of it and leaves me alone.
I should be grateful he didn’t stay and interrogate me about what happened, but his absence leaves me feeling empty for some reason.
Slipping off the bed with a pained gasp, I use the bathroom, pull on some shorts and then peel back the duvet to get into bed.
Wilder was right, I do need to rest, especially if I am going to pick up the grueling race schedule in the next twenty-four hours.
So I flick off most of the lights, leaving only one bedside lamp on, before lowering myself down onto the pillows.
I’m half wishing I slipped out earlier to buy some painkillers, but just as I have that thought, the sound of a key unlocking the door rings through the room.
My door opens and Wilder slips back inside without a word, shutting it behind him and locking it up tight.
He’s changed out of his jeans into sweats and a shirt, and has a small bag between his fingers.
He rounds my side of the bed without a word, pulling back the duvet until my ribs are on display, and then reaches into the bag for something.
“How did you get back in here?” I ask, totally confused about his presence back in my room, but he shrugs like it’s nothing.
“I took your key off the dresser,” he confirms, remaining focused on what he’s doing, and I watch as he pulls out some sort of packet.
I shift to try and see what he’s doing, but he places a firm hand on my chest. “Keep still,” he demands, ripping open the packet, snapping it, and then leaning down to place it onto the worst part of the bruise on my ribs.
“Fuck, what is it?” I hiss, flinching at the coldness against my skin.
“Instant ice pack,” he explains, guiding my hand to hold it in place. “Broken ribs hurt like a bitch, but this will at least help with the swelling.”
“Yeah, I’m familiar,” I tell him, shifting slightly so I can get a better hold on it, and I see his jaw tighten at my admission.
Instead of responding, he focuses on popping two tablets out of the packet and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Here, take these.” He offers them to me and I don’t bother asking what they are, just accept them gratefully, as he wedges a pillow into my side to hold the ice pack in place, before tucking me back in.
I expect him to leave now, but instead he moves around the other side of the bed and slips in beside me.
Is he staying?
He pulls out his phone as if this situation is the most normal thing in the world, and heads straight to his social media.
“I like the post you did for my EWC bid, song choice could use a little work though.” I’m still staring at him completely perplexed, but he doesn’t give me his attention, just flicks through his most recent posts, checking them over.
“Should I add some Bring Me The Horizon to the next one for you?” I find myself replying, and he looks at me and smirks.
“I’m not fussy, some Bad Omens or a little Dayseeker would suffice too.”
I shake my head with a smile. “Noted.” I was already feeling exhausted after everything today, and I know the pain meds he gave me will only make me drowsier, so I shift myself down so I can get comfy.