Chapter Fifteen
Skylar Parish
Everett stares up at me from his spot between my legs, most likely doing his best to judge the situation through his drunken stupor. But if anyone knows my body well enough to make this call, it’s me.
I know how sex between two men works, and Everett seems to know enough to succeed in his goal.
I can see it in his eyes as he makes his decision.
He leans up, shoving his middle and pointer fingers into my mouth far back enough to choke me, watching as my spit coats his skin and leaks out onto my chin.
I’m still glaring at him, but this just seems to excite Everett further. He has this manic look in his eyes, a grin curving his plump lips. He’s pumping his fingers in and out.
“That’s it, puppy. Take it,” he praises.
I can’t help it as my lashes flutter, my lips locking around him and sucking away like I’m desperate for it. In truth, I am.
Suddenly, I’m overcome with a desperate urge: I want to fight.
I want to dominate him and make him do as I wish, only for him to get too worked up and force me into submission.
Evie is so quick to do as I say, to follow my lead, so in those moments where it’s him calling the shots, him pushing me around? Fuck. Fuck.
My lips twitch around his fingers, desperate for something more. Something bigger. Everett is staring down at me like a man possessed—like he’s been dying to get to this exact moment, and now that he’s here, he might just kill me.
I am certain that Everett might very well forget his own strength and suffocate me under the weight of his desire, potentially pounding me to death.
And oh, god, I want that. I really want that.
“You’re looking at me with an expression I’ve never seen before,” he says, and he sounds so fucking horny. “You look vicious, baby. Like it’ll be you who tears me apart.”
He still does not remove his fingers. In fact, Everett shoves them as far back as they can go and holds them there, leaning down to lick at my tears as they begin to fall.
“Or is it just that you want it that badly?” he rambles. “Hm? Do you want it so badly that it’s pissing you off to wait? Are you aching and crying and ready to explode, if only I’d shove my cock inside you?”
His gaze is a heavy weight against my skin as he watches my face darken from lack of oxygen. Fuck, why is this making me harder?
But his words. I groan, feeling it as my eyes roll back to escape the weight of his affection. The way he talks is something else. I have to remember to ask—to find out who the fuck taught him to speak this way.
Everett pulls his fingers an inch or two from the back of my throat, leaving me to cough at the tickling sensation. I drag in a large gulp of air, and suddenly they’re lodged deep again.
“Good boy,” he whispers against my cheek, kissing me there softly—a sharp contrast to how his fingers are choking the shit out of me.
My hips buck, but he’s straddling me, so I don’t get very far.
“Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you so long and hard, Skylar.
And while I do, as I make you cry and come over and over again, promise me something. ”
He grinds himself down onto me, pulling a choked cry from my stuffed throat, my eyes blowing wide as he stares down at me. He looks so sexy, so menacing.
And I can’t very well speak, so he continues without an affirmation, saying, “Promise me that while I’m destroying you piece by piece, you’ll sink those vicious teeth into me. Mark me. Embed yourself into my body.”
I buck into him again, biting into his skin just enough to hurt. Everett groans, fingertips pressing firmly against the back of my tongue.
I’m gagging, tears streaming down my cheeks, and I want to tell him, “Yes, yes, Evie. I’ll sink my teeth into you any day; I’ll be your good boy.”
But I don’t have the time to. Everett pulls his fingers from my mouth and sits up, scooting back to sit between my legs and dropping his dripping hand between them. With his other hand, he grabs the back of my left thigh and pushes it upward to spread me.
I don’t have the time to be embarrassed or self-conscious either as Everett circles my asshole with his wet fingertips, eye locked onto the movement. I watch his face, fighting off the noises building inside of me from just this one small touch.
And then he’s slowly pushing what feels like his middle finger into my body, a burning sensation spreading throughout every nerve.
“Jesus,” I breathe out, gasping for air around the feeling. My voice is wrecked.
“You okay? I told you it’d hurt. We can stop if you want.” Everett’s tone is gentle, the complete opposite of the taunting, domineering tone he had only moments ago.
Something warm and pleasant spreads through my chest at his concerned gaze, at the weariness he expresses.
‘Evie,” I choke out, “fuck it into me.”
Something dark enters those brown eyes and swallows up the soft honey I’m so familiar with. It tingles to watch; it excites me and scares me all at once.
His finger pushes on, and he doesn’t stop until it’s fully seated inside. I’ve always known he has long, thick fingers—but fuck.
“You’re swallowing me up, Sky. My cock might not fit in there.” He’s teasing me; I can hear it in his voice.
If I keep giving him attitude, if I keep glaring at him, I’ll be able to keep this side of him worked up. But I know the moment that I start to fully submit to him, he’ll be gentle with me again.
But not yet—just a little longer.
“I can take it. You’re overconfident,” I sass, but my voice is strained, so Everett just grins at me.
He drags his finger out to the tip before slowly sliding it all the way back in. I’m panting, trying to adjust myself to the intrusive feeling.
“Isn’t this supposed to feel good?” I ask. “Because right now, it’s just… weird.”
Everett tilts his head, observing me with curious, calculating eyes. His finger is pumping in and out at a slow, calm pace.
“Vicious little snake,” I hear him mutter, mostly to himself, but it makes me harder as I hear it anyway.
I love that he can’t get enough of both sides of me—the soft and the cruel.
Now, if only I could tell him about… that day. About what I did. Then there’d be no secrets between us, nothing to hide. He could know all of me, and just maybe want me all the same.
“I’ll find it,” he finally says, directly to me this time.
His finger begins to crook as he rotates his wrist this way and that. I know what he’s looking for; I’m just surprised he knows to look in the first place.
He’s massaging my walls, digging deeper into me with each pass. And that, in and of itself, feels so good that I begin to relax around him.
But nothing phenomenal is happening, and his pinched brow and narrowed eyes are starting to make me self-conscious. I feel pressure, as if it’s my fault he can’t find my fucking prostate.
If I knew where it was, I’d tell him!
“Everett, let’s just move on. I don’t need—”
I shoot up off the bed, coming to an awkward half-sitting position as his finger stays firmly lodged inside my ass. A pleasure I’ve never felt before, hot and thick and far too overwhelming, pours from where his finger is pressed and all the way to my toes.
I’m choking out a groan, hands grasping for purchase at his shoulders. “E-Evie!”
Everett moans, looking at me as if he’s the one getting a prostate massage, and rubs that singular spot. “Fuck, puppy. Is that it? Does that feel so good?”
I don’t know what to do with any of this. I don’t know what to do with this insane pleasure or the way he’s staring at me; the way he looks like he’s coming right this second when he’s not even being touched.
“Uh… ahh, I feel… Evie, fuck. I don’t know how—” I groan again, jerking as he presses exceptionally hard inside, cutting off my own words.
“Mhm,” he hums. “It’s a lot, huh?”
I simply nod, hooded eyes watching him as he watches me. I feel wrung out, and I haven’t even climaxed yet. There is every chance that I die tonight.
Everett lifts his other hand, uses it to cup my cheek, and coos as I nuzzle into it. “My poor puppy. So sensitive and pure—doesn’t know how to handle it.”
He kisses my closed eyelids, collecting tears. And his voice is sweet and soft, but his hand remains ever relentless. The pleasure is coiling higher and higher, and I think I might come at any second.
But I feel weird. Like I’m going to explode; like I’m going to die. It’s not… normal.
“Evie… please. I’m going to come, but I’m scared,” I confess, voice fragmented as I blink up at him.
And this fucking asshole—he slips another finger in and fucks me harder, faster.
“Fuck!” I fall back onto the bed, my back arcing at the fullness, the burn and the intensity of it all.
“You look so fucking good, Sky. Oh, god, I just want to eat you. You’re swallowing my fingers up so well. Fuck, you’re gonna come so hard.” He sounds delirious.
He sounds more excited for my climax than I am.
I’m shaking, fighting against the sensations to keep my body from locking up. “I’m gonna, ah fuck, I’m gonna come, Everett.”
“I know, baby. Come on my fingers—do it, come for me.”
He’s rubbing that spot over and over again, staring down at me so intensely, fingers trailing up my thighs. My dick is pulsing the way it does when I’m about to come, but something feels so weird.
“Something’s wrong. Stop it for a second, Evie. Something’s wrong,” I plead, but I’m still rolling my hips down to meet his every thrust, moaning between sentences.
My body is still begging for more.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he assures me. “You’re just overwhelmed. It’s okay—you’re okay.” I shake my head, my hand reaching out for his. He grasps it, holding it tightly as he adds, “Let go, Sky. I’ve got you. It’s gonna feel so fucking good, I promise.”
And because I trust every single word that comes out of this man’s mouth, I do. I tip right over the edge, my eyes rolling back as I scream.
It’s clawing through my entire body, this pleasure. It’s coming in waves, and each one is stronger than the last as Everett’s fingers never cease.