John groaned, feeling the release of his shoulder for the first time in months. That’s when he felt Lawson slip out of him, and suddenly, he impaled him so hard John wasn’t ready for it. His back arched from the impact. His hand slipped up the shower wall, bracing himself. Lawson then did it again, pounding into him, sending a shockwave of tremors through every limb of John’s body.
“Fuuuck,” Lawson gasped, hands fastened to his hips. “Yes… that’s it…”
He steadily fucked him like that—out fast, in hard. Over and over. John placed both hands on the wall, stars blinking across his eyelids as Lawson fucked him at a blindingly brutal pace. So much so that he knew he would be sore tomorrow. And that thought made his dick leak. He wanted to hurt. Wanted to feel Lawson’s branding touch all over his body—deep inside him—marking him.
He wanted it all.
Lawson cursed again, feeling John continuing to give himself over and take the furious fucking. Lawson’s movements were becoming wilder and jerkier.He was close. And so was John. He reached for his own dick, stroking himself and tensing again.
“No,” Lawson gruffed out and reached for his shoulder. With both hands, he dug into the muscles so hard that John nearly yelled.
The intense touch stopped at his shoulder and was immediately replaced by Lawson’s hand over his cock, stroking him vigorously, forcefully.
Pain and pleasure. The combination was almost too much. Too overwhelming. Breaking through his body, his tendons, his muscles—pushing past reason and sanity. Breaking him open wide and without warning. Lawson relentlessly did it again, impossibly breaking him further down, until he was an open wound, bleeding out on the gurney, unable to stop the free flow of emotion and pleasure dumping out of him.
“Fuck-fuck-fuck…!” John gasped.
He was about to burst, his balls tingled painfully, and his tip was leaking all over Lawson’s fist.
All the tension, all the stress over the last few months—maybe longer—burst from his body, and Lawson grabbed him once more, fisting hard over his cock and forcing him to climax painfully into his hand. He let out a sobbing cry, his body shaking, his climax spewing violently out of his dick, coating the shower wall and Lawson’s hand.
It went on and on.
Hot, thick cum pulsed out of his dick like an explosion. He felt Lawson thrust again inside him, filling him to the brim, and his cock spasmed in another wave.
It’s too much.
It’s all too much.
I can’t!
Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, and his whole body surrendered.
Lawson must have felt it and let out a groan of praise that John couldn’t understand; he was pure sensation.
Lawson barreled into him only a few more times, his magnificent thick cock spearing into his tight hole, before unloading deep into his ass. John was too weak to appreciate the feeling of Lawson’s climax, and wobbled on his feet. WithLawson’s dick still fully seated inside him, he grabbed his shoulder once more and, using his knuckles, jammed into the frozen muscle.
John collapsed into the tile. Lawson held onto him, digging ruthlessly.
Tears streamed down John’s face, and a gasping sound escaped from his chest like a dying animal. He’d never heard himself make that sound—well, actually, he had. Only once before, when he was a teen and his mother had told him that his brother had committed suicide. He broke that day and had rebuilt himself into the trophy kid, pleasing everyone around him, taking care of everyone else's needs so that they never had to feel what he felt.
Everything he’d been holding together the past year finally broke open, and John fell headlong over the cliff into sweet oblivion.
Chapter9
Wyatt
Wyatt stared at Donnelly, who seemed to be in a coma, and wondered if he should wake him.
No, let him sleep. He needs it after what I fucking did to him.
He raked his fingers through his hair, knowing he had pushed Donnelly too hard, and felt like an asshole for it. He had warned him it would hurt. But he hadn’t expected what happened after they orgasmed.
Donnelly had slid away from him, falling to his knees and crying. It was the most painful sound Lawson had ever heard, and all he wanted to do was hold him. Instead, he turned off the shower, bundled Donnelly into a thick white hotel towel, and led him to bed. He hiccupped and sobbed, sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking his head as though he didn't want Wyatt to witness him being emotional.
Donnelly confirmed it by saying, “Don’t. Don’t stay for this. Go home.”
“Not a fucking chance,” Wyatt retorted, quickly toweling off and climbing into the bed behind Donnelly. He wrapped his arms around him, dragging him into the wall of his chest and holding him, letting him cry.
