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The conversation around us comes in waves, talking about the upcoming game, spring interm, and homework. Nothing of any substance since none of the guys like Nikki much. They all call her my stalker, and yeah, she’s intense, but I really think she just needs a friend.
Paul looks at the screen of his phone laying on the table and nods at me. “Gotta get to class.”
Nikki’s phone starts making an alarm clock sound, and we all turn to look at her.
“He’s right.” She shrugs and turns it off. Okay, that had stalker vibes.
Paul clenches his teeth, the muscles in his cheek jumping. He stands abruptly, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”
I quickly pick up my breakfast stuff and follow him. Once we’re outside of the dining hall, he looks behind us and lets out a breath.
“Dude, you have got to stop hanging out with her.” Paul shoves me into an empty classroom. “She’s not right. That girl is creepy.”
I sigh and lean against the wall.
“She’s harmless.” I cross my arms when what I really want is to pull him against me and kiss him, get lost in him, have him hold me.
He stands there, hands on his hips, looking at me like he wants to yell, but instead he scrubs his hands over his face and growls.
“I don’t want to fight with you.” I lean my head back against the wall too. I’m tired. Tired of not knowing where I stand with him, tired of this argument, tired of homework, tired of hiding parts of myself from everyone but him. Hell, I’m tired of hiding parts of myself from him too. Since we got married, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells sometimes. He doesn’t touch me like I expected; we haven’t had sex, just a few handies and blowjobs.
“I love you,” I say as he opens his mouth to respond. His shoulders slump, and he steps into my space, pressing his forehead to mine and a soft kiss to my lips.
“I love you too,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around my lower back. I slide my hands up his chest and around his neck, finally able to breathe.
Closing my eyes, I let the words tumble out of my mouth that have been circling my brain for a while.
“Is there a reason you don’t want to have sex with me?” Paul tenses against me and more words pour from me without clear thought. “If you aren’t into it, that’s fine, some people aren’t into penetrative sex, there’s nothing wrong with that, but is that what it is? I expected you to want to fuck after Vegas, but you don’t seem to want to, so I just want to make sure I didn’t do something or—”
Paul’s mouth crashes into mine, effectively shutting me up, and he grinds his hips into mine. His cock thickening against me, which only turns me on. Fuck. Paul lifts a hand to my jaw and moves me the way he wants, deepening the kiss and the connection between us. I swear I could come just from this, from him controlling my mouth and rubbing against me. I love the way he commands my body.
He swallows my whimper and groans, licking the inside of my mouth and exploring all the edges. Paul nips on my lip, sucking on it while grinding hard against me. My balls are full and heavy, I’m panting, and I want to come so fucking bad.
“Please,” I whisper against his lips. “I’m so close.”
He smiles against me, reaching into my pants and wrapping his hand around me. My hips thrust my cock into his hand, and he chuckles. “Desperate, dirty cumslut.”
The words have goose bumps prickling along my skin and stealing my breath. “Don’t come, hold it.”
My moan is pain-filled, and he snickers at me.
“I want to fuck you, Brendon. Fill you with so much cum I need electrolytes.” He trails his nose along my neck. “Both your stomach and your ass. I want you to fuck me, till you’re so close to the edge you’re desperate and can’t hold back. I want to use your dick to get myself off and leave you hard until I’m ready to go again.”
His words and the mental image they force into my head have me dripping. I love that I can leak precum, that I have proof of how much I want him.
“Paul.” It’s the only word I can force past my throat. There’s nothing else, just sensation and anticipation.
“After class,” he says against my skin and bites my neck over the tattoo. “Your cum is mine. Don’t you dare take care of this on your own.”
I whimper again, clenching my hands into fists in his shirt and wanting to sob. My entire body is trembling and tense and on edge. I can’t think of anything except orgasming.
“I hate you,” I moan, shoving my face into the crook of his neck and sucking on his skin just to the right of the that little hollow at the base of his throat. I suck hard, knowing it’ll leave a mark and not giving a shit. If I’m going to be uncomfortable for the next few hours, so is he.
“That’s right, baby, mark me,” Paul growls, gripping my hair in his hand to keep my mouth on his skin. “I want everyone to know I’m yours.”
Paul lets go of my dick and removes his hand from my pants, then rubs his palm against the ridge in my jeans.
“I promise I’ll make sure it’s worth the wait,” he says, and I release his skin with a pop. I pull back enough to see the dark purple mark on his throat, and my eyes widen. Okay, that’s way darker than I meant. Fuck.
