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“Maybe it does, or maybe I just wish it did…because then I could have you.”
I couldn’t puzzle out his meaning right now, not with the way he was staring at me. I was torn up inside, and all of a sudden, I wanted to stop thinking and just feel. I wanted him to hold me, and push me, and fuck me so hard I couldn’t think. This guy, my enemy, and the only one who understood all the little, ugly parts of myself that I tried to hide from.
He saw it all, every single bit, and he was still gazing at me like I was something special. Something rare and precious.His.
I couldn’t tell who reached out first. Did he lean in, or did I reach up? There was no way to tell in our mutual want who crossed the line in the sand that anger had drawn between us...only that we crashed together somewhere in the middle.
He kissed me forcefully, and I met him every inch of the way. His lips on mine after the rough week we’d had felt more comforting than I wanted to admit. I bit his lower lip, and he growled against me, his hands roaming over my body. He pinched my nipples sharply, and I cried out into his open mouth, arching my back into his brutal touch. He wasn’t gentle, and I didn’t want him to be.
He lifted me into his arms with his usual ease, and the ridge of his hard-on nestled against my pussy, only separated from him by our clothes. He spun us, searching for a surface with an urgency we both felt.
The pool table met my back as he laid me on it and reached for his belt. His blue eyes fastened on me as I wriggled my pants and underwear down my legs, kicking them off my feet and leaving my lower half bare. He palmed his cock, spreading the precum welling from the tip around the wide, rounded head of him before advancing toward me.
I opened my legs for him, welcoming him, and he stepped between them, lined himself up, and sank mercilessly inside. It burned where he stretched me, and I liked it. I wanted this. Rough and unforgiving. I wanted everything in my head driven out by his brutal thrusts. I wanted to feel pinned and helpless. I wanted to lose control. I trusted Cayden somehow, enough to let everything else go. How fucked up was that?
He growled when he met his end inside me, my pussy sheathing his entire length, and leaned down to kiss me. The pool table was hard under my back, but I didn’t care. I wanted it to hurt, to feel bare and vulnerable, angry and real.
He moved inside me, pulling out on a long draw and then thrusting sharply back inside. I cried out, the feeling too much, and his fingers worked inside my mouth, quieting me and giving me something to suck on at the same time.
He fucked me ruthlessly, holding my knees apart, spreading me wide the entire time, until I felt like I was going to come. He must have felt it, because he changed his angle, pushing his cock upward in a motion that pressed against the front wall of my pussy and made my knees weak. His fingers found my clit, and he circled it quickly, in time with his thrusts.
“Come for me, Freckles, let me see you fall apart,” he urged.
Freckles. The name reminded me of before everything had gone to shit. That brief and shining moment where I’d allowed myself to feel a whole lot for the enigmatic guy who’d moved into my house and into my heart, pretty much at the same damn time.
I came suddenly, and it felt wetter than ever, worryingly wet. I pushed the thought aside, as Cayden didn’t seem put off at all. Waves of pleasure rolled over me, bulldozing my senses. Cayden grunted, the veins on his neck popping as he ground against me, dragging out my orgasm.
“Fuck, that was hot,” he groaned, rotating his hips and then suddenly going rigid.
Warmth filled me, pulse after pulse of slick heat as he came inside me.
He held himself there, unloading what felt like a bucketful of cum inside me, pressed in to the hilt, like a stopper in a bottle he never wanted to uncork. I was still twitching and pulsing with pleasure, when he pulled out, I groaned low in my throat, disappointed to lose the full feeling of him being inside me. When he was inside me, I couldn’t think about anything else. I was free of everything. It was perfect.
His finger replaced his cock, pumping lazily inside me. It felt damn good all over again.
“What are you doing?” I wondered, leaning up on my elbows to watch as he put three fingers inside me and circled my clit with his cum-smeared thumb. Fuck, it felt good. It felttoogood.
“I want to see you lose control again,” he said determinedly. “Do you think you can soak the table again?”
“I soaked the table?” I asked, suddenly worried. If I wasn’t just about to come again, I’d be a lot more concerned about the state of the baize.
Cayden grinned, and it was filthy. “You sure did, and I’ve never seen anything hotter. I want to see it again, but this time, I want your pussy to be full of my cum.”
And so he did see it again. Two more times.
* * *
After, he brought a towel from the bathroom and wordlessly cleaned our combined cum from my wet thighs and aching pussy. We silently got dressed and headed out to the bike. I wanted to fuss over the pool table, but he could take care of it. Beckett washisfriend, after all.
We rode back home as darkness fell firmly over the countryside. He slowed expectantly, and I knew he was waiting for me to put my arms out and fly, like I’d enjoyed doing before. Whatever was between him and me, it wasn’t easy to understand. It felt bigger than both of us as we rode into the darkness, with only each other to hold on to. I couldn’t explain it, but after talking to my parents, and the pool house, and Cayden’s brand of rough comfort, I felt physically and emotionally spent. I was ready to go home.
We pulled up outside the house, and the door opened immediately. My dad stood there.
“Lily, can you come in and talk?” he asked, not sparing a glance for Cayden.
I nodded and handed my helmet to the boy I was supposed to hate, the one who was always there for me, even when I had no idea what I needed.
I followed my dad into the house and back to the kitchen. My mom was sitting there, in the same place I’d left her. Her eyes were red; she’d clearly been crying. I felt like an asshole all over again. I’d made my mom cry and then run off to process my own emotions. I was selfish to the end.
