47. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
He’s still on me, all over. Everywhere except my face and hands. They belong to Jesse again. But the rest of my body still aches with the same undeterred infection, and I need to be stripped of it once and for all.
With my own eyes, I saw Jesse fulfill his promise: I will always protect you.
With my ears, I heard him say he loves me.
And with my lips, I told him I felt the same…
He’s been two steps behind me since we left the alley, and like a radiator, he’s heating the back of me while my front freezes. Festers. Untouched by his light. Still littered with Josh’s marks.
Waiting at the crosswalk amongst the crowd, I feel him creep nearer. I know by his touch, his scent, that it’s him. He presses his body against me. His hand lands on my stomach, then slides beneath my open jacket to wrap around my waist.
Like heroin injected into my veins, immense serenity ripples from his fingertips and pumps through my bloodstream. Absolving me of my past. All of it. I’m not what they did to me anymore. I’m who Jesse loves. And I’m the man who will follow him to the ends of the earth.
“You’ve been a naughty boy. Haven’t you, Kai?”
A panting breath puffs into a cloud in the frosty air. “Yes.”
“All your silly little questions make so much more sense now.”
I tense my neck so my head doesn’t collapse back against his shoulder.
“Snooping is a lot worse than not telling the whole truth, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes,” I pant out again. And I’d agree with anything he asked. Anything at all to get the punishment I hope is coming to me. The punishment I’ve been craving for far too many years and thinking I’m a freak for wanting. The punishment I’ve been trying to coax out of Jesse since he punched me and I knew I’d finally found the one to give it to me.
I need an iron fist.
I need him to make me pay for twenty years of self-hatred.
I need to be chastised for thinking I’m not good enough.
I need Jesse’s hands to litter my body—sting, and pound at my skin until all my pain belongs to him.
The light flashes for us to walk, but as I go to move, Jesse holds me still and makes people walk around us. “What do you want first? My fingers or my cock?”
“Your tongue.”
I hear his neck crack as he cocks his head to the side. “That wasn’t an option, brat.”
I suck in air through clenched teeth at his choice of words.
“Oh.” He squeezes my waist. “Did you like that? Do you like me calling you names, you wretched little shit?”
“Fuck,” I breathe out but it’s carried away with the crowd.
“Such a dirty boy.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. “You just wait till we’re alone. I’m not gonna be the only one sore in the morning.”
Jesse retracts his hand without another word and starts crossing the street with the final scattering of people, leaving me to follow him like my balls are tied to the other end of an invisible piece of string he’s got wound around his wrist. And the tug is real, because the further he is away from me the more my dick aches to be inside him.
At the intersection of the street where the van is parked, Jesse waits silently—eyes lidded and head tilted just enough the street lights reflect in them.
He holds out his hand. “Keys.” It’s demanding, possessive, and almost symbolic. My final chance to opt out before my penance begins.
Diving into my pocket, I pull out the soaked and dirty scarf he gave me and ball it in my hands. “I’m sorry it’s ruined.”
“Keep your apologies and give me the bloody keys.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and rub my tongue against the gathered flesh between my teeth.
He snatches the keys before they’re even fully out of my pocket and marches away, almost disappearing into the night before the next street light finds him again.
I jog to catch up, and as I do, he’s unlocking, then sliding open the side door of the van.
Without looking back, he shrugs off his coat, throws it into the back seat, and starts unbuckling his belt before even stepping inside.
This exact image has terrified me for as long as I can remember: A man, so hell bent on sexual gratification he’ll claim it by any means necessary. But instead of hyperventilating and completely shutting down, this time I’m a willing participant.
“Do you need help?”
Jesse’s head whips in my direction. “I don’t recall asking for it.” With one hand, he unbuttons the vintage Hilfigers I picked out and finally steps into the van.
“Get the fuck in here, Kai,” he demands. And when I do, he’s already sitting on the middle row with his jeans around his ankles—dick in his hand.
Saliva floods my mouth, and my bottom jaw drops slack.
“I won’t ask you twice.”
I toss the scarf next to him and tear at my jacket.
“You’ve got fifteen seconds to get in here and get naked or that mouth of yours won’t be getting filled.”
I gulp at his threat because I know it’s not empty, and slam the door shut so hard it may not open back up again. My sweater and undershirt are peeled off in one go and I almost fall over as I attempt to kick off my shoes and take my pants and underwear off at the same time.
Unable to stand properly, I settle on my knees and wait for further instructions, but the seconds tick by. On and on like a fucking lifetime as he just sits there, stroking that gorgeous cock of his. Watching me suffer—submissive and compliant. Hands on my thighs. Fingernails pressing into my palms.
This is truly the most euphoric form of torture.
The fear of being denied my pacification weighs so heavy I dare not move a single muscle.
I’m entranced, feeling every stroke as he swipes up and down. Nevertheless, he denies me the delight of being filled. Like having the most delicious food in my mouth without being allowed to swallow.
His pace builds and he slouches into the seat and rests his free arm along the back of it.
I know his signs. He’ll come soon if he doesn’t stop, and he might not be the only one.
My tongue creeps past my lips to hang out.
My fists slide from my legs to the van floor as I tentatively lean in.
Then he stops, squeezes his shaft, and hisses—the moon highlighting the pre-cum trickling from his tip.
His top lip curls and he growls, “Clean it.”
I’m gripping his thighs and opening wide before he takes it back.
“Uh-uh.”
I was too slow.
“No mouth… Tongue only.”
My eyebrows crease and I release a pitiful whine because he knows just how cruel that is.
Harder than I ever expected him doing it, Jesse slaps me, jarring my head to the right. Heat in the shape of a handprint beats against my skin and I dig my nails into his thighs.
He does it again and I breathe in suddenly, my chest buzzing from the sting.
“You gonna be a good boy?”
“Yes.”
He seizes a handful of my hair and jerks me forward. “I didn’t hear you.”
“Sure am, Pretty Baby.”
His satisfied smile as I stick out my tongue is sex personified.
Guiding me, he brings my head to his cock.
His scent hits my nose like a freight train and I sniff again deeply, exhaling against his balls.
“Fuck, you smell good,” I speak out of turn, eager for the consequences.
With my neck craned back, Jesse spits onto my tongue. “Don’t you dare put that thing back in your mouth till I’m done with it.”
My dick bounces between my legs as I feel his saliva dripping from my tongue to my chin.
“Now, be a good boy, and lick me clean.”
Wrenching my head forward, Jesse pushes my chin against his sack and watches as the tip of my tongue tickles the fleshy underside of his cock.
Releasing my hair, his hand slides to the nape of my neck.
In one long pass, I drag my tongue and both of our spit up the length of his shaft, lapping the salty bitterness he left there for me.
I want to roll his taste around the inside of my mouth so badly.
I want to swallow this small gift, but I’m forced to continue washing his pretty cock with my dripping tongue.
My saliva is so plentiful it starts spilling over my bottom lip. And just when I think I can’t take it anymore, Jesse’s free hand grips my jaw and lifts me. Leaning down, he meets me halfway to lick us both from my tongue before giving me what I’d asked at the crosswalk—his own. Deep. Pressing down just how he knows I like it.
He doesn’t fight me like he usually does. Instead, he traces back and forth on my gums and the back of my teeth until my head sags in his hands.
“Pathetic,” he touts, tossing my head away. But his grin is undeniable.
Curling my tongue back into my mouth, I savor his taste and try to retrace the same movements he just made as I watch him pull off his striped henley.
Raising his feet, he motions for me to take off his shoes and jeans.
I tug off his Vans without untying the laces and ease his jeans over his feet. But then, when I go to remove his socks, he wriggles free and drags up from the base of my cock with his right foot until it’s pressed firmly against my stomach. Then his left nudges at my chest until I’m sitting back on my heels.
His socks—which probably cost more than anything I’ve ever owned—feel like velvet against me as his toes massage my balls. The pressure of his right foot never eases until his left ascends again, this time landing on my face and forcing me against the cold window. Holding me there.
“Fuck, you look good like that,” he keens, grazing over his already hardened nipples with his soft hands. “And I love that I’m the only one that gets to see it.”
Finally, his right foot moves. Jesse draws it upward, his toes grazing, the soft cotton gliding over me like butter. Up and down, up and down, never offering me anywhere near enough.
With the windows completely fogged, Jesse flicks the internal lights on and clicks his tongue at the unobstructed view of me in all my sullied glory; hands behind my back and glaring at him side on, pretending to hate the disgrace of it all despite every cell in my body begging for more.
“No one would believe me if I told them.”
I should feel embarrassed and ashamed of myself for liking it so much, but, my god, nothing could be farther from the truth. And my dick tenses beneath his foot at the thought of a fantasy so forbidden, that once upon a time I’d rather have slit my own throat than admit even a slither of weakness. Yet now, there’s a delight in how small I feel, like a cornered mouse and the cat’s paw is squeezing the life out of me. Except I taunted the cat. And I’m not his meal, I’m his pet.
“So full of surprises,” Jesse teases, bringing his left foot down to toy with the head of my cock. His toes stretch beneath the fabric and try to gain purchase but just slip away, so he rubs his big toe into my slit and pushes the swollen head harder against my stomach, massaging it up and down with his sole. He’s a fucking sculpture—leg and stomach muscles tensed, ribs straining against the milky and unblemished skin of his sides.
It makes me hate that I tainted him and that he’ll soon be covered in marks like I am, because it’s only a matter of time before I inevitably drag him completely under with me. Then, the threat of a neck full of hickeys will be the least of his problems. Jesse Kendrick may be able to free me from the shackles that chained me to Josh and his friends for nine years, but I was damaged long before they showed up.
“You’re staring.”
You’re fucking beautiful.
“Are you trying to make me nervous?”
I’m trying to decide whether you’ll still love me if I have a full-blown mental breakdown.
Jesse clamps both soles around me and pumps my cock until my mind is clear of doubt, and all I can think about is how good he’s making me feel. How good he always makes me feel.
My head falls back and the window clatters. I try to hold in a moan, but it comes out so deeply Jesse has to feel the vibrations. Then I’m cold again, untouched, with my master leering down at me—both arms reclining on the back of the bench seat.
Crossing his legs, he rotates his foot in front of me.
I reach for his sock but he pulls his foot away.
“With your teeth.”
My stomach flips with the overwhelming urge to paint Jesse’s feet with my cum.
Hands behind my back, I bow my head, licking his bare shin, then stick the tip of my tongue below the sock band. Seizing the white cotton, I pull back and release it before drawing it down past his ankle and over his heel. The hairs on his legs tickle my lips, and with all this stimulation happening just outside my mouth, my craving reaches its boiling point.
Pulling the sock the rest of the way off and flinging it free of my teeth, I look Jesse dead in the eye and open my mouth.
Silently, he stares back, not objecting to me taking matters into my own hands, though not exactly approving of it either. But I take my chance and push up on the bottom of Jesse’s big toe with the flat of my tongue.
The weight is everything I’ve needed since back in his room, and I suck it into my mouth when he doesn’t pull away. More salty than his fingers in a way I can’t explain, I circle it, and with each new rotation, the tightly wound band of anxiety in my gut unravels a little more.
Venturing further, I suck on each of Jesse’s toes. Licking between them and breathing heavily through my nose. Then, looking up at Jesse with the hope of my endeavors being recognized, he pushes his foot into the side of my mouth to gape it open and make enough room to shove all his toes inside.
My eyes flutter at the indignity and almost roll back in their sockets at how lush it feels.
My cheeks and lips have never been so strained.
My tongue has never felt such purpose.
I’ve never been so pathetically thankful for my mouth to be filled.
“Fucking hell, Kai,” he rasps, but between the blood pounding in my ears and my breath whistling harshly through my nose, I can barely hear him. Though I don’t really need to. I can see how he’s just as affected by this as I am. And when his big toe tickles my uvula, I gag around it—my hands darting from behind my back to grip his ankle and stop him from pulling out so I can continue bobbing my head and obsessively trying to take him deeper.
“Enough.” The edge of his voice is growing prickly, but I bite down, not ready to give him up.
Not too pleased with my insolence, Jesse braces his sock-clad foot against my chest and pries his other free. A web of thick saliva trails after it, with more spilling over my swollen lips. He smacks the spitty ball of his foot against my forehead and drags it down over my eyes and nose before repositioning it under my chin and forcing it up.
“Not cool, brat. And after I was so nice.”
With a kick, he sends me tumbling against the back of the passenger’s seat.
I blink with sticky eyelashes and see him tearing his other sock off. With both feet flat on the rough van carpet, he glowers down at me like a tyrant king on his throne.
“Get your ass over here,” he orders, patting his lap.
With a tentative nod, I crawl to him, cautious and nervous for the first time.
“Hurry the fuck up,” he snaps and grabs my hair when I’m within reach. Pulling me up, he holds my face close to his. “Good boys don’t bite, do they Kai?”
He’s so close my eyes wander to his freckles—jumping from one to the other. They’ve darkened, and his ears… They’re blood red…
“Answer me!” Jesse yells so sharply I jolt at the shock. “For fuck’s sake, Kai. I don’t want to hurt you, but so help me I will if you don’t stop ignoring me.”
I press my lips together and shake my head as best I can.
“I can promise you. You aren’t gonna like what’s coming.”
I’ll be the judge of that.
“I’m serious. By not answering you’re letting me do whatever I want.”
I know what he wants. He’s made it clear almost from the beginning but—
Jesse tugs my head to force me to focus on him. On his eyes. Sparkling and green.
I trust him. I love him. And just like the silent conversations he has with Saxon and Romeo that I’m so jealous of, he tells me everything I need to know without uttering a word.
“Last chance, Baby. What’s it gonna be?”
I make a show of licking my lips, then wrapping them around my teeth.
With a disapproving huff, Jesse throws my head to the other side of his lap and grabs me by the hip. Using brute strength, he bullies me into position—my cock forced against the side of his thigh, his straining against my stomach as I’m spread out over him.
A firm hand pushes against my tailbone, the heel of his palm dragging up my spine and between my shoulder blades until his nails scratch at my neck and hold me firm.
I mewl into my forearm at how amazing it feels. But I wasn’t discreet enough.
His fingers grip tighter and dig into the tender flesh below my ears. “I don’t wanna hear a single sound out of you. Not. One.”
When I don’t react, Jesse takes his other hand and drags it up the back of my thigh—his fingers running up the inside. Higher and higher until he pulls them back just below the crease of my ass and massages upwards.
I clench my fists at how good it feels and wish I could see what I look like: tall, muscular, and naked, covered in tattoos, draped over another man’s knee just meters away from a suburban sidewalk.
Back at my tailbone, Jesse’s thumb slides between my cheeks.
I suck in air and hold my breath because I’m terrified of what I think he’s going to do.
Lower he goes until the pressure is almost at my rim, but when he’s there, he only ghosts around it and then digs back into me when he draws his finger back.
I’m left panting, sweat forming along my hairline. Then Jesse’s touch is gone, and I release a wretched whine as his hand slaps against my ass. Hard, shocking, and fucking beautiful.
Unable to hold it in, I pant out again and his action is repeated. Same spot. Same delicious bite morphing to a dull burn.
“I can do this all night,” Jesse warns and god I wish he would. “Really, Kai. I thought you wanted to be a good boy.”
“I do.” The words are out before I can stop them and I’m gifted another painful slap.
I go to turn my head, and Jesse releases my neck. As I gaze up at him, he pushes his hair back off his face, his chest heaving. “Goddamn,” he smirks, rubbing my ass. “If I thought you looked good before…” He pauses to look me in the eye as he spanks me again. My head jerks forward, my face contorts with fucked-up pleasure, and Jesse bites down on the first knuckle of his forefinger. “God, you’re amazing.” He praises again, forgetting his role and succumbing to how good it feels to give someone exactly what they’ve always prayed for.
“More,” I beg and gape out my tongue.
Jesse’s lip curls at my boldness, but after scratching against the back of my thigh for good measure, he gives me what I want: His fingers in my mouth and a barrage of slaps to my backside.
All the free space around my tattoos must be cherry red in contrast and the heat radiating from the site must be as warm to the touch as it is cleansing for me.
“Had enough?” I’m asked as his fingertips trace figure eights against my swollen flesh.
I shake my head.
He grabs a handful of my ass and squeezes—his nails digging so deep I swear they almost break the skin. “I wanna hear your voice now.”
“Give me more,” I mumble around his fingers.
“Jesus Christ,” he hisses in malcontent. Reacting to the lewdness of my request and torn between wanting to please me and knowing when to stop.
“I promise I’ll tell you when I can’t take anymore.” He pulls out of my mouth. “Please, I need this, Jess. I need you to drive him away from me for good. And… If you meant everything you said, I need you to punish me for thinking I was never good enough.”
He plunges back inside me, all the way to my throat, and hooks his thumb into the soft part of my chin behind my jawbone.
“I fucking hate when you say shit like that.”
He smacks me with all his strength and I cry out only to have fingers forced deeper. I gag around them, saliva coughing out onto his hand and the shitty fabric of the seat. And from there, the assault on my ass only grows. It’s bad, but in the best way.
Tears flow from my eyes. I don’t want to cry, but I can’t help it. The pain is cathartic.
“Enough?”
I try to answer but my words are lost in a high whine as his thumb pushes between my cheeks again.
His thumb repeats its course, asserting more pressure than the first two times when he reaches the rim.
Again he asks, “Enough?” And this time I shake my head.
“Do you understand what I’m asking?”
The concept is too much to even think about, but the way he’s dancing over me, bending me to his will, has me dying to feel something I’ve never dared imagine. And I have to believe that’s the appeal. That visceral, anxious fear that when this is just a memory, I’ll still clearly remember how the uncertainty almost killed me… So this time, I nod.
“Bite me if you want me to stop… It’s okay to do it this time.”
Jesse’s three middle fingers disappear once more from my mouth, and it’s mere seconds before I feel their warm, slick wetness gliding over my hole with wide strokes.
I watch as Jesse spits on the digits of his other hand, then retracts the first and offers me its thumb.
That’s when my eyes shut tight. Cheek against my forearm and Jesse’s thumb pushing up against my soft palate, I whimper like a little lamb.
Just like I’d done to him, he slowly builds pressure until he feels me relax enough to push inside. But any calm earned was through the sucking of his thumb, and I clench around his finger—my teeth sinking into his skin.
His finger slides out, but I didn’t want him to stop. It was only on reflex that I’d bitten him.
I moan around his thumb and run my tongue across the creases of his knuckle, and he gets the message to try again.
Small, feather light concentric circles trace around my rim. Anticipation builds until the pad of his finger presses into me and there’s almost an amplified sensation running the length of my cock. Pleasure negates pain as he pushes further until I feel his finger sink fully inside me.
I exhale around his thumb, my fears completely melting and giving way to the self-gratification monster that’s always lived inside me. Arching my back, I push against Jesse’s finger desperate for him to move.
“You’re such a slut, Baby,” he coos, and that word warms me more than I know it should.
I know I’m not ready, I’ve fingered enough asses in my time to understand the process, but my god I need more. More pressure, more depth, more friction. I need to feel myself forced to accommodate.
Like he can read my mind, no sooner has Jesse retracted his finger before the weight builds again—stronger this time. More assertive. It stings, but I love it. His fingers part, stretching me further, curling and searching.
They slide in and out, the subtle sound of our combined spit easing exploration.
It’s a first for him too, and the reminder of it has me sucking so hard his thumb will be bruised for days.
It’s lavish; to be entered and want it. To feel the man commanding you come just as undone as you are. His breath huffing out at a rapid speed almost in time with the inward thrust of his fingers into my ass.
Then he brushes it, and I lose my goddamn mind.
My body jolts, my shoulders hunch, and my mouth gapes as a groan rumbles through me.
I push back against Jesse’s hand harder and he flicks over it again to the same result. Then pumps into me almost recklessly, grazing my prostate with every jab.
I’m a writhing mess, my hips grinding against his thigh until he smirks with a tsk, and holds still.
“So it only takes two fingers to fuck you dumb?”
I try pushing back on him again but he pulls out completely.
“You’re getting too carried away. You know I get to come first. And… I wanna do that while I’m fucking you.”
I’m nodding without even letting the words sink in. I’m not sure if I even heard them.
“Up.” Jesse pulls his thumb from my mouth and slides it beneath my chin—pulling me off of his lap to sit beside him.
The second my tender backside hit the chair, Jesse stands and hunches over the back of the driver’s seat.
“Eat it,” he demands, looking back at me and tugging at one of his ass cheeks to present his pretty little hole.
My eyes burn into him, hooded and hazy.
“Get to it.”
Quickly I lean forward to flick it with the tip of my tongue before he pulls his hand away and sucks air in quickly, exhaling with a shudder.
I grope his ass, my thumbs sinking into the creases and gently tugging at the inside of his cheeks, watching his rim stretch, then pucker.
His dick hangs low between his legs, balls heavy and inviting. I lick between them and his taint—the tip of my nose brushing against him. Then cup the skin around his balls and tug down.
I smile smugly at how he arches his back further and I start dryly thumbing his hole before following its movements with my tongue until he’s wet enough for me to slip inside to the first knuckle.
He’s tight, but loosens almost instantly, so I force my thumb the whole way in, pulling outwards as I rotate my wrist.
Gathering all the excess thick and stringy saliva still left in my mouth, I pull out my finger and spit it against his hole.
Jesse’s legs shake and he grips harder to the headrest of the seat.
Separating his cheeks, I press both thumbs into his loosening rim and push them inside—tugging and stretching him in opposite directions. Dragging my tongue between them and lapping inside him.
Jesse’s hand reaches around and grips the back of my head, pushing my face further into his ass.
My thumbs slip out and my hands grip his hips to counteract the force, but also to help me bury my tongue even further within his walls as he rides my face.
Drool drips down my chest and I struggle for breath, but relish in the short, staccato moans I’m drawing out of Jesse.
Then, when I pry my head away and spit against him again, he spins around and pushes me back in the seat. His hand swipes across my jaw gathering as much lubrication as he can then cups it in front of my mouth. More thick saliva is produced, and before I can even comprehend his intentions, Jesse is spreading it over my cock and straddling my lap.
“Condom,” I blurt out, but he slaps his spitty hand over my mouth.
“Shh…” His other hand reaches behind his back and seizes my shaft. “Whatever you have, I have, Baby.”
I know I’m clean, I’ve never fucked anyone without a rubber and was tested before I started things with Alma. But his willingness to want me as raw and real as possible shows a trust I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay.
Tight, firm pressure rings the head of my cock, strangling the entirety of my shaft as he sheathes me in one fluid motion—punching the air out of himself.
Both hands grip my shoulders as he fights to accommodate me, and I squeeze his hips—massaging, trying to distract him from the strain and depth that comes with his position. And it might have been a sweet gesture if it wasn’t for how badly I want to fuck him open.
“Fuck, you’re so big.” Jesse almost glares down at me.
“You knew what you were getting yourself into,” I smirk, high on how much he wants me.
“You don’t get to talk back.” Without looking away, he reaches for the scarf beside us and straightens it out—his lips contorting in a devilish grin. “I’m sick of you being such a brat.”
Jesse proceeds to wrap the wool around my neck, tugging it firmly then twisting his wrists so the ends wind around his palms. My head is forced back against the bench seat and he grips it too, using it as leverage when he starts rocking his hips.
He grunts when my cockhead grinds against his prostate and he involuntarily tugs on the scarf.
I cough, but the burn isn’t anything I can’t handle.
Again his hips rotate.
I buck up against him and he gasps only for it to dissolve into a moan—choked and stuttery—as a rush of blood flushes his skin pink.
“You’ve completely destroyed me, Kai,” he utters, raising his body over me and slamming back down.
My mouth lolls open and my tongue rolls out.
Jesse kisses me, fucking my mouth with his tongue as he drags his straining ass up and down my shaft as he pleases.
“You’re my total undoing,” he sighs against the side of my face—his temple resting against mine. “I’d give up everything for you… All of it.”
“You don’t have t—”
“Shut up,” he huffs. “You don’t get to speak, remember? You just listen.”
I shut my eyes and try my damndest to focus on his words and not the intermittent clenching of his walls around me.
“I love you so much more than I ever thought possible… I’ve had a mostly good life. I’ve known and been loved… But this is so much deeper than that. So much better. So good it hurts, and…” He nudges me with his nose so I’ll look at him—unbinding the scarf and cupping my face. “There’s no way I’m leaving Canada without you.”
Releasing my face, Jesse leans back on my knees and brings his feet flat onto the seat beside my legs. “Hold me,” he instructs, and I wrap my arms around his waist. One of his hands clings to the back of my neck and he snickers, “We’re getting our own place though, ‘cause there’s no way I’m prepared to keep quiet.”
“I…”
He nods, slowly dragging himself upwards.
“I… Fuck, Jesse,” I curse as he grinds down, tilts his hips, then draws back up again.
“Tell me, Baby,” he rasps—his throat dry from all the moaning.
“I’m sorry for all the trouble I know I’m going to be.”
“No.” He drunkenly shakes his head.
“Yes,” I insist—pulling him closer. “I’m a train wreck of a person, more trouble than I’m worth. But if anyone can handle me, you can.”
“That’s right, Baby.”
“I’m just so fucking scared. My life has been nothing but pain and hate for as long as I can remember and I’m not sure if I know how to be properly happy.”
Jesse kisses me again, this time with a million unspoken promises, and I don’t doubt for a second that he means every single one of them.
“Don’t worry.” He pecks me a final time—gripping into the crooks of my neck with both hands. “We’ll find you a new purpose.”
“I love you,” I attempt to say but it’s lost in a string of curses as he starts fucking me with everything he has.
My mind is trapped in a tornado. My body is nothing but sensations: The squelching slap of skin on skin, the bite of fingernails into muscle, the trickle of sweat down my brow and chest, the dense humidity we created. And the overwhelming, overstimulating glory of being used… And loved.
Jesse is a fucking mess.
Most of his once tied up hair has fallen over his face, sticking to it and obscuring his neck. His biceps are tense and the veins in his arms are sticking out in a highway of plump distraction, straining against his skin. The hunch of his back is forcing his ribs to the surface as they wrap around his sides but are covered with his slight pecks and amazing abs down his front. And his dick, his perfect, pretty dick—foreskin still pulled back from the last time he stroked it—bounces between us, a smearing of pre cum against both our stomachs.
I should close my eyes if I expect to last much longer. Because watching him fuck himself stupid on my cock—not able to come until he does—is making my gut clench in hot, delirious spasms. But I force my hips to buck up into him with every downward pass just to see his mind numb and his expressions turn lewder with each pound of my entire length into his greedy hole.
I swipe the hair free of his eyes and hold the back of his head. His jaw is slack and his eyes are glazed over and primal, and even though I know he’s in there, he’s also transformed into just as much of a fuckslut as I am. He’s always so good to me and tonight is no different. He did everything I needed him to do, but now it’s my turn to show him how much I appreciate it.
“You’re fucking filthy ,” I grunt, taking over and forcing him down on me harder. “As soon as you’ve got my cock in you, you turn into a bitch in heat—begging to be bred. You’re such a fucking whore, Jesse. I know you want to take me home. I know you want to rub me in their faces. And you better believe I’ll fuck you in every room of that fucking castle till no one dares question whether this is real or not, because they’ll be able to smell the sex as soon as they walk through the front door.”
Jesse’s whine is the sluttiest thing I’ve ever heard. He tries to nod, moisten his mouth to talk, anything, but he’s rendered brain dead, unable to do a goddamn thing but accept pleasure.
The van shakes around us and his head bobs loosely with every bounce.
I force him back to his knees and pull him close. That vein down the right side of his neck is still calling to me.
With his hands around my neck, I lick up the side of his but falter slightly as the intense pounding of his blood beneath my tongue takes over too many of my senses.
I stop Jesse’s upward motions and force his hips to grind instead.
My lips wrap around his neck and I suck, flicking the tip of my tongue over the site to ease the sting.
Moving onto my next mark, I feel Jesse still and circle on one spot—my cockhead grazing his favorite place.
I hold his head in place to keep from limply falling backward.
His abs tense against my chest and I can feel him coming dry, and that’s not good enough for me.
The rest of my initial on his neck will have to wait.
Careful not to adjust him too far, I reach for his dick and spit down on it.
Without my support, his head flops back and I watch with a watering mouth how all the delicious veins bob around his Adam’s apple as I pump him with all the focus I can offer.
The dirtiest wail—so high pitched, so polar opposite to the way he beat on Josh—fills the space around us. Cum shoots out against my chest and his pretty neck. And when it stops, his body continues to shake. His orgasm pulsing through him in waves.
“Yo—your turn,” he manages to squeak, tugging my face closer.
Tongue out, I rid his neck of cum and nibble at his throat.
Raising his hips, I hold him still and fuck up into him with everything I have left.
The rattle of the van and Jesse’s cries combined are so loud people in their houses have to hear us as I slap against his ass—his balls smacking my stomach and his dick flicking cum on us both.
I hold my breath and release the tightly wound ball of knots in my gut, emptying into Jesse as my breath peaks in time with the pulses of my cock.
The high shatters me, my body racked like I’ve been strangled—sending me from heaven to hell and back again with a blink. My chest and throat ache as garbled grunts beat against the skin of Jesse’s neck and I feel the heat around my dick intensify as my cum fills him to the brink. And he squeezes tightly to hold it all in even as I relax my hold on him and lower us back to the seat.
“You… You’ve… You’re fucked… You’ve fucked yourself over big time,” he pants, still hugging my head.
Running my hands up his sides, I take his arms and unravel them. “Why’s that?”
“Cause I’m gonna want it that good every time.”
“Are you challenging me?”
“Are you up for it?”
“You just wait till I get you back to my room. You won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
“Fuck that.”
One of my brows rises skeptically. “Has your brain not returned to your body yet?” I smirk, leaning to the side to help him off me.
“No!” He clenches around my softening cock. “I wanna keep you inside as long as I can.”
“You really are the filthy one, Jess.”
He dips his head to the side almost bashfully. “Guess that means you can’t say it about yourself anymore.”
Lifting him, I move us both so he’s lying against the bench seat, and slip free of his ass. With a sigh, I watch him grip around nothing, then pull me in for a gentle kiss.
“I booked a suite at Misty’s the night Saxon lost his mind.”
“Really?” I pull back to look at his face better.
“Yeah. I wanted that to be our first time. Away from everything. Just us.”
“Sorry, it didn’t work out.”
“Don’t be.” He smiles. “What we did was perfect.”
“Why do I feel like you wanna say something else?”
“Probably cause I do… Let’s go there now. Spend the whole weekend.”
“Jesse, that place is—”
The look he gives me has me swallowing back down the rest of the sentence.
“I swear to god, Kai, if you think about mentioning how much it costs knowing what I know you know. I’ll make you sleep out on the balcony.”
I smack my lips shut and zip them closed.
“And that goes for everything from now on. Yeah, I’ve got money, but what I spend, I earn myself, okay?”
“Okay.” I kiss him, sealing the promise even though I know it won’t be easy for me. “And, hey.” I grip his jaw and make him look at me this time. “How the hell did you learn to fight like that?”
His chuckle is as light and mischievous as the slap he gives my backside. “Oh, Baby. There’s plenty of time for stories.”