AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My dick aches at the very idea of pushing into his body.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I slide another finger in and have to admit that he’s still pretty damn stretched. I’m leaking precum onto my stomach, and when Paul sits up, he swipes his thumb through it, then sucks it from his skin.
“You’re a needy little fuck stick, aren’t you?” Paul growls as he grinds his ass over my dick. The roll of his body, the flexing of his muscles, is almost as arousing as the pressure on my cock.
My hips jerk up off the bed at the sensation. “Please,” I whimper, his words pushing me closer to the edge of no return. “I need—”
“You need to take what you’re given.” Paul stops moving, giving me the much-needed break to catch my breath, and grabs the lube. The cold liquid slides down my shaft, and he strokes me to make sure I’m all slick before lining his hole up and pushing against it.
My hands clench and release at my sides, wanting to help, but if the look on his face is worth anything, it means he won’t let me. He’s running this show, and I just have to lay here and enjoy it.
“Push out a little,” I tell him, and the head of my dick is sucked inside, surrounded by the heat of his body. My eyes cross and roll back into my head. “So fucking good,” I moan.
Paul sinks down slowly with a groan until he’s once again sitting on my hips. I watch him adjust, the flush on his face and chest such a fucking turn-on.
“I want to touch you,” I whimper. My hands balling into fists, then relaxing with the urge to reach for him.
“Too bad.”
He leans forward again, one hand grips my bicep and the other is high on my chest by my collarbone, letting me take his weight as he rocks his hips. With every rock forward, he lifts a little more, testing the feeling until he’s riding me hard. We’re sweaty bodies, grunts and moans, chasing mindless pleasure. I’m lost in him, in the sensations, in the pressure. The constant buzz in my head gloriously quiet for once.
“Stroke me, I’m going to mark you with my cum before you fill me with yours.”
I whimper but do what he’s told me and wrap my palm around him, jerking him off to the same rhythm of his hips. I’m almost there. My hips flex on instinct to meet his rolling hips.
“Fuck, please.” All my attention is focused on my groin, on my need to come inside the man I love. Probably the only man I’ll ever love.
“Come on then, big bad hockey player. Give it to me.” Paul picks up his pace, filling my ears with his panting breath and the slapping of our bodies meeting.
Sweat breaks out on my skin, and my muscles tremble. I’m already so fucking close to the edge, but I can’t quite get there. I clench my eyes closed and arch my back, grinding up into Paul while my body shakes against my will.
“Tell me you love me,” I beg, lost in the sensations where the mental walls I keep up are nothing but dust.
There’s a pause before I feel Paul’s breath on my cheek. The hand on my arm moves to grip the back of my neck.
“I love you, Brendon.” His words sound off, but my lust-addled brain doesn’t know why. “Come for me. Show me how much you love me.”
Lights spark behind my eyes as my orgasm explodes through me. Hot cum splatters on my stomach and chest and over my hand. There’s a ringing in my ears, and my entire body goes from tense to weak in a matter of seconds. My arms and legs are limp on the mattress as air heaves in and out of my lungs. Paul wraps his arms under my body and presses his face into my neck, holding me tightly and kissing my neck.
17
Paul
My hands are steady by some miracle, but my body feels like it’s vibrating. What the fuck was that? Did he hear how much truth was in my words?
The urge to cry is so damn strong because I love him so much it hurts. It aches. Knowing he doesn’t love me back and may never is a bitter pill to swallow.
Brendon’s body is limp under me, sated and relaxed for the first time in days, and I don’t want to let him go. Something in his head is twisted, and every part of me wants to fix it, but I don’t know how. I don’t know what happened or how to put the pieces of him back together. It’s like someone handed me a puzzle but put a blindfold over my eyes. I can feel the edges but can’t see how they fit together.
It hurts to know he’s in so much pain. Does he not trust me with the truth? All I want is for him to be okay.
We need to talk. I can’t keep living like this. Never knowing what version of him will walk into our room or if he’s coming back at all. It’s exhausting.
Forcing myself to let him go, I sit up. His now soft dick slides out of me, leaving me feeling empty, and I climb off the bed to get a washcloth. After getting one wet and cleaning myself off, I head back to the bed and find Brendon sitting up and running a hand through his hair.
I stand between his knees and wipe his chest off. Once he’s clean, I toss the cloth toward the bathroom, and he leans his forehead against my abdomen with his hands on my hips.
“I know you want to talk, but I’m so tired.” His voice is small, and it hurts my heart. I run my hand over his head, dragging my short nails against the back of his head. He shudders and moans, wrapping his arms around my legs in a hug. Brendon normally has a big personality, he takes up space in the room, and loves life. The fact that he’s shut down right now is physically painful.
