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Tucker spit into the furrow of my ass, slicked up his hand, and then trapped his cock between it and my crack so that I felt every inch of his swollen shaft sliding against me but never breaching me. It was a kind of torture I hadn’t known existed.
Gripping my shoulder with his other hand, he drove his cock relentlessly into the tunnel he’d created, and despite the fact I’d just come, my dick twitched with renewed interest as I pushed my ass out like a cock-hungry slut, anticipating him pushing inside me at any second.
But he didn’t, just continued moving against me, using my body the way he wanted. Arching my back, I surrendered to the rhythm.
“I know you’re not ready to let me fuck you yet, but this is what you want, isn’t it, Whitt?” he rasped. “You want this cock inside you?”
My eyes popped open, and I strained to turn a glare on him as he teased the head of his cock over my hole.
“You’re dying to know what it’s like. Isn’t that right?” he said, voice low and hypnotic.
“You’re an asshole,” I grumbled, my cock thickening regardless.
“And you’re a motherfucking liar, Whitt, but we all know that.” Malik punctuated his words by thrusting harder against me, and I lost my breath a second time, imagining what it would’ve felt like if he’d actually been inside me, filling me up. The soft cotton sheets beneath me made the friction on my dick deliciously rough, and I moaned as he pulled back and moved, more slowly this time, fucking my crack with shallow strokes, his mouth brushing over my bared shoulder. “Don’t lie. You want me to fuck you, don’t you, Bougie? You want to feel what it’s like to have a cock sliding into your tight little ass.”
Yes.The word resounded in my mind, and it fucking pissed me off that it was so blatantly obvious, thatIwas so blatantly obvious. “How do you know I haven’t already?” I reached an arm up and back, finding the nape of his neck and pulling until he was pressed against me and groaned, a primal sound I wanted more of. “Think you’re the only motherfucker out there who knows how to work a cock?” Instead of clapping back, Tucker growled, hips moving faster, breath harsh, and I could tell he was losing his shit, which only encouraged me. “Think you’re the only one who’ll get down on his knees for me?”
Tucker’s body tensed, hands gripping me tighter, and for a split second, I thought I’d pushed him too far, and then he growled out a string of curses mixed with my name seconds before he bit down on my shoulder. Thick, hot spurts of cum spattered my ass and lower back.
He collapsed on top of me seconds later. When I tried to move from beneath him, he closed his hands around my wrists and kept me still as he spoke. “Next time, this goes in your ass, and don’t tell me there won’t be a next time because you and I both know there will be.” He rolled his hips against me once more, softening cock smearing his release and sending a fresh jolt of desire through me that warred with the fury of him being able to pin me down. “I fucking own this ass, and I’ll be the one to take it first.”
“Fuck you,” I spat out.
“If you’re lucky, Bougie.”
And then he released me and was out the door so damn fast I checked the floor to make sure he’d taken his clothes with him. They were gone, but no way he’d had time to put them on.
PART TWO
Second Half
* * *
This section crosses over with the timeline of False Start, occurring during Cullen Atwood’s first season with the Denver Rush.
10
TUCKER
September
Ihadn’t had sex in months, and it was fucking with my brain.
After that night with Patrick at the party, I just…hadn’t fucked anyone. At first, I didn’t notice, but then about a month in, I realized I hadn’t hooked up or even tried to hook up with anyone in four long weeks.
That truth bomb had fucked with my brain. Why hadn’t I really thought about indulging in a night of pleasure with another person? I was young and single. There was no reason not to have a good time. Hell, I spent part of the off-season in Florida with my family, and there were a few ladies there that were regulars for me, yet I’d never called them, and when they called me, I never answered.
It wasn’t because I was stuck on him because fuck that noise, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how he had melted beneath my touch. How hungry he’d been for my cock and how needy my dick felt for him, too. It had become an obsession until eventually, I knew that no one would satisfy me until I had him beneath me.
Until I had his ass.
Yet, I didn’t call or text him, and Patrick didn’t call or text me.
He wouldn’t, though, would he? Not after how I had told him his ass was mine, then walked out on him.
That was maybe a mistake.
Or not.
