Chapter Eight
Dakota
I was desperately trying to wake up, but the damned drugs, as usual, kept trying to pull me back under. I hated taking the mind and body altering shit, but I also had to admit that they’d managed to keep the pain and darkness at bay when absolutely nothing else had been helping. That didn’t keep me from hating how they made me feel or how they affected every damned portion of my life. Since I started the meds about four months ago, exhaustion has turned out to be my constant companion. Swimming anywhere near the level I was at before the Evan explosion was out of the question. All I wanted to do was sleep. My libido? Gone. Vanished.
Until Trystan.
Hell, I didn’t know if it was the drugs that had destroyed my sexual urges or if it was Evan. Before Trystan started showing up around every corner, eye-fucking me every time I looked in his direction, I’d come to the conclusion that sex would be completely off the table for me. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to want it. I didn’t miss it. I wanted to miss it.
Then Trystan came along—looking so much like Evan with all his hard muscles, sexy tattoos, and arrogant swagger that it nearly scared the life right out of me. When the shock wore off, I still wanted to hate him but my body was attracted to him like an alcoholic to the liquor store. We always wanted the things that would end up hurting us, I supposed. I was pretty sure I’d gotten past the idea that Trystan was somehow connected to Evan, working with him behind the scenes to finish me off completely, but their overall appearance and love of all things football made my heart thunder in fear before I could rein it in.
Again, I tried to force my eyes to flutter open but they were fighting me for all they were worth. It was the same fucking battle every fucking day. Well, almost, this morning there was apparently a human heater snuggled up against me. My eyes popped open and a shocked gasp slipped from my mouth. Oh, shit. It wasn’t a dream. I did almost die last night and Trystan did save my life. He’d brought me back to his apartment, turned down all my sexual advances because he didn’t want to take advantage of me, and then told me story after story about his life. I’d learned there was a vulnerable side to Trystan Matherly that he kept hidden so very well. He struggled with his childhood and the fact he was continually playing a secondary role to his parents and their careers. He also had a very low opinion of himself. No, not of himself physically because it was clear that he was very aware of how utterly gorgeous he was, but he didn’t think he was a good person. I thought he was very wrong about that. A huge part of me wanted him to be the asshole I imagined him to be in the beginning because that would have made walking away from him so much easier. The remaining part of me wanted him to be all the things Evan hadn’t been. Yes, I was fucked up.
I’d also told him about the ulcer and my depression. I couldn’t believe I’d done that and would give anything to take it back this morning. I viewed my sickness, both physical and mental, as a weakness and I fucking hated that I was that person—the one incapable of dealing with the shitty hand dealt to me. I could not accept what had happened to me, and deal with it like a normal person. No, I had to hide behind pills and lies. Fuck, I couldn’t even use my real last name anymore. To sum it up, I was exhaustingly pathetic.
Why in the hell would anybody like Trystan Matherly even give me a second glance? Because I was pretty and pathetically weak—big men were drawn to my pussiness like a moth to a flame. Fucking me was almost like fucking a girl except I sucked cock better. Those were some of Evan’s thoughts, so I supposed they could belong to Trystan too. No, they didn’t belong to Trystan, I had to stop doing that.
Of course, Evan would never have lain next to me and told me stories about his childhood or shit that had happened last week with his friends. Evan would have never acknowledged me to a total stranger, much less to his friends. Hell, Evan probably wouldn’t have pulled me from my car because he would have been forced to answer difficult questions about why he was anywhere near a fag.
For six long years I’d allowed myself to be Evan’s dirty little secret, willing to take whatever crumbs he tossed at my feet and then play the thankful fool. Six long years I’d lied to myself, saying what Evan was offering was enough and I could honestly say my only excuse was that I’d been afraid to try to leave him. I’d spent hours trying to convince myself that I didn’t need more than Evan was offering. His words had echoed in my head—you don’t deserve anything better than what I’m giving you.
I tilted my head slowly, trying not to wake Trystan up, so I could see how much damage had happened in my sleep. Fuck, it was just as bad as I’d feared it would be. I knew me, knew what I was capable of, what my body craved even when my mind screamed warning after warning. At some point in the early morning hours, I’d crossed the invisible line in the bed and snuggled right on fucking top of Trystan’s heat and rock-solid muscle. My chest lay across his and one of my legs was slung over his strong, tree trunk thighs…right above that giant muscle and right below his giant cock and balls.
Holy fuck! The dude was huge everywhere. Every-fucking-where. And here I lay, purring like a contented kitten on top of the guy that had turned me down last night. Apparently, I didn’t own an ounce of pride anywhere inside my body.
Was he awake? Was that hardness due to my body practically fucking his during the night or was that just his morning wood?
My head was tucked below his chin so I had no idea whether his gorgeous eyes were open or if he was still innocently sleeping. No, there was absolutely no way I would get that lucky. He had to be awake, watching me make a fool of myself.
I was not looking. I was just going to lie here and be thankful that he had the decency to turn me down last night. He was right, I would have regretted it this morning. Not because I didn’t want him to fuck me but because I’d agreed to that fucking for all the wrong reasons. At some point, I’d decided that the only way I could ever find out if I was going to be a sexual creature again was to dive straight into the sex pool. With that decision made, I would let Trystan fuck me whether I was ready or not. Determination was one of my many weaknesses. I’d been determined to believe that Evan truly loved me and was just struggling with revealing his sexuality to others.
I’d been wrong.
Was I wrong about Trystan as well? Was I judging him by Evan’s actions? Evan would have fucked me last night, whether I’d wanted him to or not. Evan wouldn’t have asked permission, much less made the determination himself that I might not be thinking straight after my date with carbon monoxide. Trystan had flat out turned me down with his mouth while his body had been begging to take me up on my offer. Why would he do that? Why would he put my needs above his own? The answer both terrified and thrilled me, causing that deceitful bitch, hope, to start swimming through my veins.
Was Trystan different?
Was I ready?
Hell, yeah, I was ready.
I thought I was.
I wanted to be ready.
Normally even the thoughts of having sex again caused me to break out into a cold sweat. Hell, even when it is just me trying to take the edge off with a quick hand-job, I would start to feel queasy. This morning, planked out on Trystan’s gigantic muscles and welcoming warmth, I was feeling anything but cold or queasy. My skin was burning hot and itching in places that only he can scratch. My need for him was so intense that it bordered on pain. I wanted to feel….
“You gonna lay there all day and pretend to be asleep or are you going to show me those beautiful green eyes this morning?”
His voice, low and husky, tickled my ears and did absolutely nothing to cool my libido. Even the bigger man’s voice was the very essence of dirty sex. Everything about him was the makings of a wet dream for me—a wet dream that was mere seconds from becoming reality if I played my cards right.
“I’m awake.” I supposed I was going to have to get accustomed to talking again if I was going to try to turn this into something with Trystan. He liked to talk. He liked to listen. I had a hell of a long way to go before I could get back to where I started six years ago.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” he answered with a soft chuckle. “I have plans for you this morning.”
I tensed and then forced myself to relax when I felt one of his fingers trace a seductive path along my neck and shoulder. He said, “I’ve kissed this spot right here, making it all mine.” The finger moved around to tease the spot in front of my throat and he said, “I’ve kissed this spot and felt your pulse flutter beneath my lips.”
Yes, he’d kissed both those spots last night while we stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom and, like last night, my pulse was fluttering wildly beneath his touch. His lips had felt like some sort of magical seduction against my skin and I’d wanted more. I’d gone to sleep wanting him and I’d woken up with that same craving just as strong, if not stronger.
“Don’t get me wrong, Guppy. I could kiss those same spots for the rest of the damned day and consider myself in Heaven, but ever since I first laid eyes on you, I’ve wanted to taste those puffy lips of yours. What we did last night only whetted my appetite.” His finger was softly caressing my bottom lip as he wooed me with words. “I spent the first few days furious because I was convinced another man’s mouth had been claiming what was mine because your lips always looked red and kiss-swollen. I wanted to hunt the bastard down and do whatever I deemed necessary to make him understand you belonged to me.”
His hand moved away to tuck my hair behind my ear and I immediately realized I probably looked like a ragged mess. I’d seen my hair in the morning, sticking up and out in weird angles and let’s just say that it was not a pretty sight. I started to reach up and try to smooth it into submission, but he grabbed my hand and wrapped it around his much bigger one. It was a strong grasp and I couldn’t get away if my life depended on it but instead of scaring the shit out of me like it probably should, I felt more heat race to areas that were already on fire.
“I—I don’t belong to you,” I muttered with a frown. I was so consumed by the need to push people away, the words flew from my mouth before I even realized they were traveling in that direction. I wanted to take them back because I knew they would probably make Trystan second-guess me being in his bed. He was trying to do that flirting thing he usually did and I was busy doing that asshole thing I usually did.
Instead of frustration, he answered with another one of his arrogant chuckles before saying, “Well, I’m working on that, Guppy. Give a man some time to work his charms.” The hand that wasn’t holding me captive started caressing my back. “Now…where was I? Ah, I remember,” he taunted playfully. “After a while I realized there wasn’t another man that needed to be killed for sampling what I craved. No, it was just you—always nibbling or biting that bottom lip whenever you were nervous or studying about something. When I convinced myself I didn’t have to worry about another man, I was able to continue focusing on how fucking hot your sexy mouth was. I wanted to taste you more than I wanted my next breath. I had to know—would you taste like one of those sweet lattes you drink in the mornings or maybe a minty toothpaste? I finally settled on a mixture of the latte, mint, and just a hint of chlorine.”
“Gross.”
His finger moved to cup my chin and force me to raise my head and look him in the eyes. “I was a good boy last night in front of the EMT, I only took a quick sample. Right now, I want to claim that pretty mouth and not stop until I’ve taken everything you’ve got. And when I get my first taste, Guppy, I’m afraid I’m going to be addicted. I’m pretty damned sure I’m never going to get enough of you. I’m always going to want more. I’m always going to want you to give me more, to give me every damned thing you’ve got to offer.”
He had the most passionate eyes I’d ever seen in my life. One minute I thought they were the color of a clear sky and the next minute, they looked like they held a touch of pale blue that made them appear even warmer. Right now, they were looking at me with a hunger and intensity that I knew had just turned into my latest addiction. He wasn’t trying to hide anything. No, he was looking straight into my soul, his strong gaze never once flickering as he silently pleaded with me for a kiss that I could never deny him.
“I’m not sure I have much left to offer,” I finally said, hating myself for having to admit the weakness. I knew he was surely going to tire of my insecurities and negativity because I was so fucking tired of it myself. “Just…you know…physical stuff, like I said last night.” How could I tell him that physical was all I’d ever done? Evan hadn’t ever wanted more.
His eyes saddened at my words but then, as always, rebounded very quickly with the warmth that I’d grown to associate with Trystan. What would it be like to have his strength?
“Say what you will, Dakota, but I know you’re wrong. You have so much more to offer and I intend to have it…all of it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really into the physical stuff—it’s all I’ve ever been in to, but, with you, I want more. I want more of what we did last night only I want you sharing your stories with me instead of me monopolizing all the air with my chitter chatter. I want to wake up with you snuggled against me. I want to hear your quiet snores and I sure as hell want this messy hair to be what I see first thing in the morning.” He ran a hand through my hair playfully, making it even more out of control.
His words were sweet but didn’t make any sense to me. “Why, Trystan? How can you say that when you don’t even know me? You have no idea how deep my problems are buried or just how easily they can be brought back for the entire world to see. You can’t possibly be feeling anything close to what your words are saying and I don’t need you to lie to me. I don’t need the pretty words and promises. I’ve already made it clear that I’m more than willing to let you fuck me, so don’t waste your time and energy working so hard for it. I’m easy.” I ended with a weak joke. This conversation was so far out of my comfort zone that I wasn’t sure how I should begin to react. With Evan, it was simply fucking—there was nothing pretty or soft to accompany the ugly and hard.
The grip on my chin tightened as he forced me to look him in the eye as he began to counter my speech.
“Listen, Dakota, I can’t claim to be an expert on something I don’t truly understand myself and have absolutely no experience in the area whatsoever, but what I’m feeling for you is totally opposite than how I normally feel.” He paused, like he was struggling for the right words. “I’ve told you that I’m not a good person. I’ve done things that I should be ashamed of—slept with more people than I’d ever care to admit to and then probably treated them like shit when they no longer interested me.” He shook his head angrily. “No, that’s not true either. No people before you interested me at all, other than having them in my bed and my cock inside of them. That was it, purely physical like you keep alluding to. The first time I saw you, that was pretty much how I felt. I wanted to bury myself so deep inside of you that you would never be able to forget my name. I felt that for all of about one day, though. I swear to you, things changed the second time I saw you. I felt different things. I wanted different things. Sure, I tried to convince myself that it was nothing more than my usual lust for a cute ass, but I quickly realized I might be able to lie to everybody else, but I couldn’t lie to myself. You caused me to have all these…these urges that I’m so unfamiliar with.”
I frowned because I was pretty sure Trystan Matherly was familiar with every sexual urge existing on this earth—had tried each and every one of them with countless people he wouldn’t even remember or probably recognize. Hell, I was going to be one of those people before too long. There was no way possible I could hold his attention for longer than one bedroom bout. I barely interested myself anymore.
“I had an urge to understand why you looked so fucking sad all the time. I had an urge to protect you even when my mind was screaming you probably didn’t need or want my protection. I had an urge to learn every damned detail about you that I could glean from the internet and even flirted shamelessly with a matronly, great grandmother type in the records department in a futile effort to get to see your transcripts. At the end of only day three of my infatuation of you, I had the urge to make you smile and that damned urge has only grown with each passing day.” His hand moved to hold the back of my neck. “Why should I care if you smile or not, as long as you’re pleasing me in the sack? Normally, I wouldn’t. With you, I’m different, I want different things.” His tongue swiped his bottom lip and I nearly moaned with desire. “I think you can make me a better person.” He rolled his eyes and quickly added, “I know that sounds stupid, but it’s the fucking truth.”
His words both troubled me and made my heart soar. I didn’t want him to think I was a Debbie-downer—even if I probably was. “I’m not sad, Trystan, I’m medicated.” That was pretty much a big fat lie, but I couldn’t have stopped it from leaving my lips if my very life had depended on it. I hated that I was depressed. I hated that I was too weak to overcome this sickness and just live my fucking life like a man should. It happened and I just fucking needed to deal with it and move the fuck on.
“You look sad. Your eyes look sad,” he corrected in a soft voice.
This conversation was getting way to close to my run-for-my-life zone, so I desperately tried to come up with something to steer it in another direction. “Sad? This is my horny look.” I tried for a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe I need to do some work on expressing my feelings?” I lowered my head enough to swipe my tongue across his nipple, grabbed the piercing between my teeth, and gave it a naughty tug. “See? This is me being horny. You did make some promises to me last night. You haven’t forgotten them, have you?”
Please take the bait. Please fuck me in a way that will help me forget everything that has happened in my past. Please don’t talk about my depression—don’t make me bring that into the bedroom. It doesn’t belong in here. Hell, it doesn’t belong anywhere near Trystan Matherly.
“Now that’s just not playing fair, Guppy,” he whispered. “I’m trying to pour my heart out to you and you just sent every drop of my blood straight to my cock with one little lick.” His eyes were stormy with lust. “How am I supposed to prove my worth to you without any brain functioning abilities?”
Throwing caution to the wind, I found myself moving to straddle his hips and then braced myself with my elbows on his massive chest. My cock, hot and hard, had to be branding his flat stomach and while he’d left his jock strap on last night, I could still feel the outline of his hardness pushing against me. In one last effort to convince myself that Trystan wasn’t anything like Evan, I unfairly tossed out one final test. “Tell me, Trystan, are you going to let me fuck you?”
I felt him tense slightly and every instinct in my body was yelling at me to run away but as always, I remained frozen, unable to escape the troubles my mouth always seemed to get me in to. Why test him? Why push my luck like a fucking dumbass? Did I just love getting backhanded?
“Wellllll,” he finally started to answer me. “That’s not exactly how I pictured the scenario in my head and trust me, I’ve pictured it many, many times…in explicit detail, but if that’s what it takes to keep you in my bed and in my arms, then I’m willing to give it a try.” His beautiful gray eyes knocked the breath straight from my lungs when he followed his words up with an exaggerated blinking of his eyes—making him look like a fairytale princess straight off a Disney movie.
I could not have heard him right. “Are you serious? You would let me fuck you?” I knew I had to sound like an idiot since I was the very one to make the ridiculous suggestion. “You would seriously let me fuck you?”
I had zero desire to fuck him. I was one hundred percent a bottom and I was certain he was one hundred percent a top.
“If that’s what makes you happy, then, yeah, of course I would.” He did the stupid eyelash blinking thing again and I fell fucking in love with him at that moment. I swear that when I was drawing in my final breath on this earth, I would be picturing Trystan just like this.
“But you’ll have to be gentle with me, Guppy. I’ve only tried that two other times in my life so I’m going to consider myself a borderline virgin in that particular arena.” His fingers skimmed the side of my face. “You can go slow and gentle, right?”
Holy fuck. “No. I like it hard and fast,” I answered breathlessly. “And I want you to fuck me…hard and fast.” My body was on fire, his words turning me on even more than if he had been sucking my cock. When Trystan had agreed to let me fuck him, every single one of my warnings to stay away from him had disappeared in an instant. I hoped it wasn’t just my desperate need to find someone that could care for me, to give me what I wanted and needed, but damn it, I was pretty fucking desperate. My body and soul had been lonely for what seemed like an eternity. There had been plenty of sex with Evan and that sex had always been hard and fast. It was all I knew or understood and what, I assumed, my body would respond to. I had been properly trained to either respond or be punished. Funny thing though—my body was responding all on its own. When Trystan talked dirty to me, I responded. When Trystan rubbed up against me with his larger body, I responded. When he talked about how he was going to fuck me, I responded. This was all normal behavior for me. What wasn’t normal was how my body responded when he smiled at me, showing me those beautiful dimples. I shouldn’t have been having fantasies that involved him bringing me a latte. At no point in my life had I ever gotten aroused just from someone telling me a story. This arousal that Trystan had awoken was all new and incredibly exciting. I wanted to explore my new feelings and I was pretty damned sure that started with Trystan’s cock inside my ass.
He looked confused by my three hundred sixty-degree turnaround for all of about one second and then lust, raw and passionate, overtook his body, making his eyes dark and deadly. Yes, Trystan could give me everything I craved and I felt my body begin to melt just from the promise in his gaze.
“Fuck, yeah,” he whispered as he reached for me, snagging me tightly against his muscles and holding me there, making sure I felt every inch of what he was going to be giving to me. A large hand cupped the back of my neck and he tugged my face closer. I expected his kiss to be violent, an attempt to finally lay claim to what he’d been hinting at for so very long, but I found myself floored when the touch of lips to mine was soft and tender. His lips were warm as he coaxed me closer to him, seduced me into responding to a softness that I didn’t normally get turned on by. I didn’t do gentle and loving. I was much more of a dangerous, borderline painful kind of lover, but with Trystan, I found he could make me just as hard with his tender kiss.
His lips, after he’d kissed me senseless, lingered against my mouth. Quietly he said, “Promise me one thing, Dakota?”
Without thinking, I quickly answered, “I won’t say anything to anybody. I promise.”
His eyes flickered sadness before he reprimanded my response. “No, Guppy. You won’t need to tell anyone—I’ll leave my mark on you and my eyes, when they watch you, will let every damned person know you belong to me, so there won’t be a need for you to tell anybody. I told you I don’t like you saying shit like that. I’m not ashamed and never will be.” He took a deep breath and continued, “I need you to promise me that if I get too…rough, you’ll tell me to stop. I will stop, Dakota. I promise. I just need to trust that you’ll tell me if I get to be too much.”
Holy shit. Was this man serious? What did he think I was? A lightweight in the bedroom? Suddenly, I focused on his thick, bulky muscles and compared them to my own, leaner version of strength. Yeah, he probably did. Add that I’d told him last night that I was on anti-depressants and he probably did think I was going to be a fairy between the sheets. Hell, I might be after what I had been through. My history with Evan and my dependency on the drugs to keep me from spiraling out of control kept me from defending myself—from challenging Trystan to give me everything he had because I knew I could take it. Instead of the cocky response that I could have given a little over a year ago, I murmured, “I promise, Trystan.” Then, trying to grab at a thin strand of my dignity, I added, “I don’t think you’ll be more than I can handle though.”
He kissed me again, this one a bit more aggressive, making my blood hum with endorphins. “I’ll never be more than you can handle, Guppy, but I’m going to have to admit that I want to take you right up to the edge of your comfort zone.” He licked the side of my face and then nibbled my earlobe. “Don’t you dare let me cross one inch over that edge, though. Not one inch.”
I smiled at him. “It feels more like about eight inches from where I’m lying.”
The cocky smile that I’d learned to crave like a drug spread across his face. “More like nine, but who’s measuring?”
“Apparently, you,” I managed to say before yelping in surprise as I found myself being flipped onto my back before I could even realize he was about to move. In no more than what could have been a second, I was flat against the mattress and he was looming over me. His sexy smile was intoxicating and predatory.
He winked and said, “Spread those long legs for me, Guppy. I want to fit right there,” he said, touching the insides of both my thighs and pushing them apart.
He wasn’t using much strength and I could have kept my legs together with very little effort on my part. Irritation flared inside of me. This was not what I was used to nor was it what I wanted. The last thing I needed Trystan to do was handle me with kid gloves in the fucking bedroom. I already had a low enough opinion of myself because of my pill-popping depression issues. Did he think I was so delicate that I couldn’t handle the rough he promised? With a glare, I countered, “If you want them opened, then open them.” There, that should fix his shit.
It didn’t fix his shit. He simply smiled bigger and started teasing my thighs with the tips of his fingers. They would brush the sensitive flesh gently, barely a whisper, coming close to my balls but then easing away before actually touching. A warning growl rumbled in my chest. He needed to stop. His stupid butterfly touches were confusing me. It was something new…something I didn’t understand. Even more annoying was the fact that my dick was getting harder with each sweep of a fingertip. I didn’t do soft and fluffy.
“Nah,” he murmured. “I think I’m just going to enjoy making you squirm.”
His eyes were glued to the spot below my waist. My cock, leaking with pre-cum, rested against my stomach, twitching in either anger or loneliness, with each pass of his fingers. The fuck of it was I couldn’t even tell if he was eyeballing my package or if he was seriously just looking at the way my stupid thighs were quivering with every damned finger swipe. What the fuck was that about?
“I squirm a hell of lot more with a dick inside my ass,” I told him as my frustration and confusion continued to build. I knew my body, knew what it could handle. I could handle about any damned thing…but swear to Jesus, I couldn’t handle this. Not this. “I could be a squirmer’s gold medalist if you would just fuck me.”
He ignored me. Fucking ignored me. Oh, he added an obnoxiously gentle chuckle, but that was the only signal that he’d heard me. Finally, annoyed and as confused as fuck, I hissed, “Fucking fine! I’ll do it myself!” I slammed my legs open, kneeing him in the side in the process, and glared at him. “How about it? Can you fit there now?”
“Yep,” he answered with a smug smile and climbed between my opened legs.
He spent more time than was necessary arranging himself on his knees and then positioning my ass off the bed and in his lap. My legs fell open even wider and I was rewarded by a grunt of approval from him. His cock, still trapped in the thin fabric of his jockstrap, was radiating a heat that went straight to the raging inferno already happening between my own legs. He was fucking gorgeous.
His hand, thank the fuck, finally wrapped around my cock, gave it two or three tugs, and then he said, “I’m going to play with this in a few minutes. Keep it nice and hard for me, okay, Guppy?”
I barely had time to register his words before I felt another typhoon of confusion knock me on my ass. He’d leaned forward, sending my ass tilting upward and causing our cocks to brush against one another, and then started teasing the spot right below my ear with his tongue. A few swipes of his tongue, a suckle, and then a gentle nip with his teeth had me wrapping my legs around his back. I would have dug my heels into the mattress but the position he had me in seemed to keep my legs closer to the ceiling than to the bed. When he finished with that spot, he moved down a couple of inches and started to repeat the process. I was once again caught somewhere between pleasure and confusion. Evan had fucked me in this position before—not often because I know he didn’t like looking into my eyes—but it hadn’t been anything like this. He hadn’t tried to pepper my body with teasing kisses. He hadn’t looked into my eyes with an emotion that I’d only fantasized about. Trystan wasn’t playing fair. I needed him to do what I understood and felt comfortable with. “What the fuck are you doing now?” I growled as my panic continued to escalate with each swipe of his tongue.
“Working,” he murmured and kept torturing me.
His tongue was doing things that were making my eyes want to roll back in my head. This was not something I needed to get accustomed to. Trystan was a ‘hit it and quit it’ and I knew nobody else would give me this kind of attention. His tongue swirled around my nipple and I literally would have stuck to the ceiling if he hadn’t placed a firm grip right around my neck to hold me in place. That was familiar. No, not exactly familiar. His grasp wasn’t threatening or painful…just possessive and controlling. It felt good. It felt so much fucking better than good. I panicked again. “You’re supposed to be fucking, not working.” I whined in exasperation. He was seriously about to piss me off. Then, when what he’d said actually dawned on me, I was pissed off even more. “Working? Fucking me is considered work?”
I felt him chuckle against my skin. His whiskers scraped the tender flesh and I felt my entire body shiver with need. “No, Guppy. Fucking you is an honor that I won’t take lightly…when it is time. Right now, I’m busy trying to find your spot but you won’t shut your pretty little mouth up long enough for me to make any real progress. Maybe I need to switch positions so I can put something in that mouth and still do my explorations.”
The thoughts of him shoving his cock down my throat made my mouth water. “I’m not a new continent or planet, Trystan. There’s no need for exploration. Hell, Heisman, if you don’t know where to put it, I’ll help you out. All you need to do is ask.” I waited. Obviously he’s switched back to ignoring my mouth and focusing on my…holy fuck! His tongue just did a fucking dance across my hipbone. Holy fuck! “Stop! Just stop, already!” I couldn’t handle pleasure without pain, my brain didn’t understand it.” I tried to buck him off me but that was about like trying to move a freight train with my pinky. The hand that had been wrapped around my neck loosened and it immediately felt like a caress. How the fuck could he do that? “Stop it with the tongue, Trystan. Either fuck me or get off.”
“Ahhh…there it is,” he whispered as he raised up and then braced himself over me. His eyes were dark with a desire he had hidden with his playful words and aimless nibbling and licking. “It took me awhile, but I found it.”
“What the fuckity fuck were you looking for?” I demanded in the harshest voice I could muster but in the end I sounded ridiculously breathless. My brain felt scrambled—all from a few swipes of his tongue to spots that should mean abso-fucking-nothing. I tried to come up with something witty to say but since the ability to speak had flown out the fucking window, I settled for, “I told you I would help you find where to put it.”
“See? I knew you would be sassy when you finally came out of hiding. You’ve kept your head down and the mirror to your soul hidden from everybody else, but I knew it. I’ve wanted to see that spark for-fucking-ever.” He grinned and then lowered his head to place a hungry kiss on my pouting lips. “I was looking for your special spot, Guppy. We all have one and one never ever knows where it’s going to be.” A sexy wink. “You have to hunt and explore a lot of different spots before you stumble on the spot—the one that makes an entire body quiver and a moan to escape from pouty lips.”
“I didn’t moan or quiver.” I bet I did.
“Okay,” he answered, his tone one of a parent addressing a silly child. “Maybe I should keep exploring.” A naughty smile split his face.
He might have thought my lips were pouty but his weren’t anything short of perfection. They were soft and puffy and always smiling. How could someone always be so happy?
“Please don’t, Trystan,” I finally resorted to begging. “I’m not looking for foreplay or sweet nothings whispered in my ear. I don’t need them. I’ve never had them. I’ve never wanted them. I have, however, needed and wanted somebody to fuck me. Stop with your nonsense and just do it already.”
He frowned and I knew I’d said something really wrong. Really, really wrong. Since he obviously liked kissing so damned much, I raised my head and tried to distract him with one of those. He pulled away before I could push my lips against his. Oh, boy. Really, really wrong. When I tried to turn away from his piercing gaze, gently tugged my face back around. “What if I need it?” He asked softly. “Slow down and have some fun with me, okay? Sex isn’t a marathon or a task to complete as quickly and efficiently as possible. Could I make you cum with minimal effort on my part? Probably. Could you make me cum just by looking at me with those fuck-me eyes? For sure,” he answered. “We could do that or we could have some long, drawn-out fun. Let me play with you.”
“Why?” I asked before I stopped to consider how stupid it sounded.
“Why not?” He asked in that same irritatingly calm voice.
This whole…everything happening to my body…made me nervous as hell. It felt way too much like making love instead of fucking. I wasn’t the type of guy one made love to. Hell, I’d never made love in my entire life. I’d fucked. No, I’d been fucked. I was the type of guy one fucked.
“Because it makes me nervous, Trystan. I told you physical and you’re asking for more. I don’t know how to do the other stuff.” An honest answer—something that rarely passed between my lips these days.
“What if I told you that I didn’t either,” he countered. The look on his face was shockingly vulnerable. “I’ve only done physical because it has been all I’ve ever wanted to do. When I decided to fuck somebody, that’s all it was—fucking. Sure, I made certain they were satisfied because that’s just common courtesy. Did I ever want to kiss every inch of their body? Hell, no, I didn’t. When their breathing changed just the slightest, do you think I noticed? I didn’t, I didn’t because I didn’t care. You know what, Guppy? I heard every damned breath you took as my lips touched your skin. Every. Damned. Breath. Yeah, this is new to me, too. Am I nervous about what it all means?” He asked. “I couldn’t be more nervous—literally physically impossible for me to be more nervous. Do I think you’re going to be worth it? I couldn’t be more sure of anything in my entire life.”
You’re wrong echoed in my head but this time I was smart enough to keep my mouth closed. His words made my heart ache. What he was offering was all the things I’d wanted when I’d been younger, more naïve and foolish enough to think people like Trystan really existed. What was I offering him? Not a damned thing. I didn’t have anything worthwhile to offer.
I closed my eyes and begged those thoughts, those words I’d heard from Evan more times than I could count, to disappear from my mind. The pills and counseling were supposed to stop those feelings from taking over…but they never had been able to remove them completely. They were always there, lurking in the darkness and waiting for the opportunity to strike. The Evan that still lived inside my head knew when I was most weak and vulnerable.
When I felt the warmth and blessed heaviness of Trystan’s body disappear, I bit my lip to keep from crying out and begging him to come back. A part of me didn’t want to know what he was doing but another part forced me to turn my head to see where he’d disappeared to. A hopeful smile curved my lips when I saw he hadn’t gone far. He was digging around in his nightstand. The next thing I knew, several condoms and a bottle of something landed on the mattress next to me. I knew what condoms were and I assumed the bottle contained lube. Evan had never bothered with that. When I started to close my legs, he stopped me with a playful threatening look.
“Nu uh, don’t you dare put those legs together on me. It took forever to get them open and I don’t know about yours, but my cock is getting desperate.” Playful Trystan was back and I felt my own heart lighten.
After he’d settled his massive muscles between my legs again, he placed my calves on his shoulders this time. With my ass flipped up in the air, I felt like a fool but that feeling evaporated quickly when I saw the appreciation in his eyes. I watched as he reached down and slipped his cock out of the jockstrap, gave it a few rough tugs, and then squeezed the base. His eyelids fluttered as he so obviously tried to stifle his urges. Nine inches. He hadn’t been exaggerating. His strong hand wrapped around his length was about the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. I would love the opportunity to just sit back and watch him jack off.
“Stop looking at me like that, Guppy, or I’m going to embarrass myself,” he ordered. “Remember when I said you could make me cum just by looking at me with those fuck-me eyes? I wasn’t kidding or stretching the truth. I’m right on the edge of losing it so do something productive like…close your eyes for a second or two. I need to get my control back.”
Fuck that. I licked my bottom lip and then reached down to wrap my hand around my own burning length. Just like he had done only seconds ago, I stroked my length, spending some extra time circling the crown before dropping back down again. I could do this all day long. I’d been trained to never come without permission so Teasing 101 was a class I would definitely ace. I’d never tried it before but the blatantly hungry look in Trystan’s gray gaze fueled my courage. Up and down. Twist at the top. A small shake that caused our cocks to bump together…and a growl to rumble in his throat.
His eyes never left the spot where my hand worked the swollen flesh but his spare hand fumbled for the condom and lube. Sweat coated his upper lip. Hell, sweat coated his entire body and to me, it looked and probably tasted like icing on a cake. I was making him lose control. Me.
His big hand shook slightly as he brought the condom packet to his lips and used his teeth to rip it open. With an efficiency and skill that should have bothered me, he had the condom out of the wrapper and slid down his length in record time. “You’re a fucking tease, Guppy,” he hissed as he struggled to get the cap off the bottle of lube. “God damned lid,” he roared in frustration before the tiny cap went flying across the room. A sheepish smile tugged at his lips when he caught me watching him so closely. “The fucker wouldn’t come off.”
I laughed. “This fucker would like to get off sometime today.”
“Ahhhh, hell, babe, that isn’t fair.” He poured a generous amount onto the palm of his hand and knocked my hand away from my cock. “Mine,” he growled as his slicked up hand wrapped around the spot my hand had been toying with. He repeated my actions, showing he had been paying very close attention. Up and down. Twist at the top. Small shake. It felt so much fucking better when it was his hand doing the work. The lube? I guess I now knew what all the hype was about. That greasy stuff did make it feel a hell of a lot better.
After only a few minutes, it was my turn to notice how his breathing changed. I knew mine had, but his had changed just as dramatically. I’d never known control during sex before but I was savoring the taste of it at this moment. It was an aphrodisiac to my senses.
He reached for the lube again and this time, he didn’t bother trying to puddle the liquid in his palm. He just simply poured a generous amount onto my cock and then stopped stroking me long enough to watch the thick liquid slide down my length and find its way onto my balls and then even further. When I felt the wet coolness tease the pucker of my ass, his hand quickly followed. Using a finger, he smeared the ooey gooey stuff all around my hole, teasing with some slight pressure against my entrance before leaving it to trace the edges. This time, the growl came from my throat. My hips bucked in a feeble attempt to spear myself on his finger but he wouldn’t have any of it. Apparently, torture was his thing.
“Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful that pink is to me? Puckered and pink—my favorite.”
While my mind was busy registering just how horrifically corny his words were, my stupid heart was thinking ‘ah, how sweet’. That battle ragged inside of me, distracting me enough that I was surprised to feel his finger slide right inside of me. Again, lube seriously made a difference. I was a fan. “Fuck, yeah,” I told him when the digit finally settled deep. I’d read about this. He was stretching me. It felt strange…deliciously strange. It was odd that something so small, at least small compared to what Trystan was packing, could feel so fucking good. When the finger inside me moved, it felt odd. Good odd, not bad odd. When that same damned finger swiped something inside of me, my heart stopped beating. “What the fuck? Oh shit. Oh fuck.” Incoherent nonsense flew from my mouth when he did it again.
“Easy, now.” His husky voice teased me as another finger pushed inside and then made a scissoring motion. “You gonna relax for me?” He asked with a chuckle. He knew damned well what he was doing to me. He knew he was tearing me apart, piece by piece, just so he could enjoy watching me explode. My legs were still resting on his shoulders and I contemplated wrapping him in a headlock and strangling the life…or laugh out of him. No, that plan would not work. He wouldn’t get to fuck me and I really wanted him to.
A third finger. More incoherent words.
See, this was the thing, I didn’t lose control. Losing control was dangerous. In the past, I had always needed to know everything that was happening—how much danger I was in. Right now? The only damned thing I was aware of was his finger inside my ass. Nothing else mattered. Nobody else mattered. The past didn’t matter, nor did the future. Right fucking now—that was my entire universe.
There was a sudden feeling of emptiness but before I had a chance to question the despair that threatened to accompany it, I felt the fat tip of his cock push inside of me. I needed him inside me. I needed it more than I needed anything else in this world. When he didn’t take me fast enough, didn’t give me his entire length, I tried to impale myself on his cock but he gripped my hipbones and held tight. I was hovering between Heaven and Hell. He had given me just enough to make me beg for more.
“Look at me, Dakota,” his voice, deep and commanding, ordered and my eyes obeyed. “Tell me I’m beautiful and perfect,” he ordered. “Tell me I’m worthy of this.”
His words shocked me because they didn’t seem to fit Trystan’s personality. I didn’t give a fuck, I would give him anything if he would just take me over the edge.
“You’re beautiful, perfect, and fucking worthy,” I told him. “Now fuck me.” This shit he was pulling—kissing and teasing my body, the lube and the stretching—it wasn’t what I was used to but I sure the hell was enjoying it.
“Now tell me you’re beautiful and perfect…and worthy of this.” The words were softly spoken, with none of the arrogance he usually possessed. My eyes flew open.
“Tell me,” he pleaded. Sweat dripped off him and every muscle in his body quivered with the need to shove inside of me…but he remained perfectly still.
Why the fuck would he do this to me? Why did it even matter? I wanted to be furious at his manipulation but the look in his eyes wouldn’t allow it. There was a desperate need there and it had nothing to do with physical satisfaction.
He thought he could fix me.
I swallowed and tried to blink him away. He was still there, offering me something I never thought would come my way. There was such a strength surrounding him. He was solid—a lighthouse in a storm.
Maybe he could fix me.
Was I even fixable? Did I want to be fixed? My counselor would say I wasn’t broken. She was a fucking idiot. I’d been broken into a million pieces.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “I’m trying to be beautiful, perfect, and worthy of this.” It was the best I could offer. Hell, he should be thrilled. I never thought I would even try.
“Me, too,” he murmured so softly that I wondered if I’d heard him correctly.
In a second, none of that mattered. He flexed his hips, sending his cock sliding inside of me with one arrogant thrust. I bit my bottom lip, waiting for the inevitable pain I knew would accompany the invasion.
And waited.
It was a slight discomfort…a feeling of fullness that could easily be classified as fucking paradise. I blinked in surprise and wiggled my hips just to test the waters. Fire flew through my ass and it was a good fire. He felt so deep inside of me that I could have sworn his cock tickled the back of my throat but there was only pleasure swimming through my veins.
“I can’t be good much longer, Guppy. Are you ready for rough? Please say you’re ready.”
I smiled. I smiled because Trystan’s cock buried inside of me was one of the most wonderful feelings in the world…and because Trystan Matherly didn’t really know rough.
Not like I did.
“Show me what you’ve got, Heisman.” It felt strange talking during sex. Even stranger that Trystan would ask my opinion on anything regarding my pleasure.