Chapter Thirty-One #2
I don’t know why the sex feels different than it did yesterday or the day before.
Maybe because my dad knows, and we aren’t sure what will happen, yet Hunter is still here, choosing me.
There’s power in that, strength in it. I don’t feel like I’ve ever been chosen in my life, not really, and not by someone I needed so badly to pick me.
“Fuck me. I need you to fuck me, Lucas. Want to feel you,” he begs so fucking beautifully, I almost come. This is what I wanted too.
With a growl, I lift him off me and grab the lube. Hunter hurries onto his hands and knees, upper body lower, arching so fucking perfectly for me, his tight, football-player ass waiting for me to take him.
“I want to photograph you like this again,” I say, slicking my fingers, then pushing two inside him. “With my fingers in you, my cock in you. I want evidence of you in every fucking position I can think of, so I’ll always have proof I had you this way.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” Hunter promises, making me realize what I just said.
He’s here. He chose you. You’ll fucking fight to make this work.
Because I am a fighter. I always have been. If not, I would be on that field with Hunter, following my father’s dreams for me.
“I know. I won’t fucking allow it. You’re mine, Hunt. I’m not giving you up. Not fucking ever.”
I pull my fingers out, knowing he’s ready for me. Once my cock is slicked up, I wrap my arms around him, pulling Hunter up so his back is against my chest, hold the base of my dick, and push into him.
“Fuck…Lucas…God, yes. I love it so fucking much.”
“I love you. I have always loved you. Will always love you. You’re so fucking mine.”
“Yes. Yours.” He turns his head and we kiss, my tongue in his mouth, my dick in his ass, pumping long and slow into him.
We make out for a while that way, kissing and fucking, me slow-dicking him, driving us both to the edge before pulling back again.
My right hand slides down his body, slick from lubing up earlier.
I wrap my hand around him, love the feel of his dick in my hand and his ass around my prick as Hunter King gives himself to me. My fucking king.
“Harder,” he says when our mouths part. It’s what I need too, so I push him down, his chest against the mattress, grip his hips, and slam into him again.
Hunter calls out my name as I keep going, keep giving him what we both need.
His tight hole is perfect around my dick, the best hole I’ve ever had.
He makes a needy sound each time my dick brushes against his prostate.
His hands fist the pillows, face pressed into the bed, mouth open in pleasure while he rambles words like, yes, right there, wanna feel you afterward, fuck me, Lucas.
The sex feels dirty, but not just that. Like we both need to prove to each other this will be okay, like it’s a way for us each to say we’re in this together, this is what we need, and whatever happens, we’ll work through it.
I’m telling him I love him with each stroke. Hunter is saying the same with each mumbled word and inhalation of breath. And just when I think I won’t be able to last much longer, Hunter says, “Fuck, I’m gonna come. Do it with me, baby. Fill me up when I shoot my load.”
No chance in hell I’m not making that happen.
I pump my hips harder, faster. The second I feel his movements get jerkier, hear the familiar sounds he makes that are now imprinted on my brain, I know he’s about to lose control.
“That’s it. Come for me, Hunt. Give me all you’ve got. I want it, want all of you. Forever.”
He cries out, hole spasming, cock twitching in my hand as he shoots, hot, thick cum sliding through my fingers and hitting the bed beneath us. My balls draw up, emptying inside him, the room spinning as I fuck an orgasm out of each of us, draining everything in my nuts for him.
When we’re done, neither of us moves right away, just staying there until Hunter pulls forward, my dick slipping from his ass. He lies on his back, pulling me on top of him, kissing me, wrapping his legs around me, murmuring against my lips. “Love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too, Hunt.”
“I see what you’re doing, why you try to make yourself the bad guy. You’re trying to give your father an excuse for being who he is to you, but you’re wrong, and he’s wrong. You’re so fucking good, Lucas, and I can’t wait for you to realize it.”
His words hit something inside me. Is that what I do? I didn’t realize it, but all I know is, I want to believe Hunter is right. I’m going to find a way to believe Hunter is right. “Thank you.”
We don’t bother cleaning up, just lie there together, a mess of lube, sweat, and cum, which honestly, is sexy as fuck.
“I’m sorry you lost my father,” I eventually say.
“I’m not. At least not in the way I thought I would be.
I’m sorry he feels the way he does, but I can’t…
I don’t want that in my life. I can’t stop thinking about what you said about Ellis, and it has me wondering if I really knew him the way I thought I did.
Or hell, if he knew himself. Had he loved football or just wanted to impress his father? And then with me…”
“No. Ellis loved you. Not because you’re good at football or brought him closer to Dad.
He loved you.” I almost hate saying the words, fear that it will make him realize it’s still Ellis he loves, but I don’t want Hunter to ever feel that how my brother felt about him wasn’t real, and I don’t want Ellis’s character questioned either.
We had a rocky relationship, but he was a good man. “Ellis wouldn’t do that.”
“Yeah…you’re right.”
“I’m tired,” I say.
“Me too. Let’s go to sleep.”
Hunter turns out the lights and pulls me close, being the big spoon for a change, and before I have time to be surprised about it, I fall asleep.