Feuds and Reckless Fury

“Canyon,” he pleads.

Stop? Go? I don’t know…

“Mmm?” I murmur and then nip at the flesh.

“Fuck, you’re a cruel bastard.”

I roll my hips, marveling at the hiss that escapes him. My mouth once again latches onto his neck, sucking hard enough I know he’ll bruise. Pleasure curls in my stomach, making my balls feel heavy with the need to come. Tomorrow he’ll be forced to walk around with my mark on him.

“I bet you’d let me fuck you,” I taunt. I’m an evil bastard. “I bet you’d let me pull your jeans down, flip you over, and shove my dick inside your tight hole.”

“Canyon…” His growl is nearly furious, and he bucks his needy cock up, chasing the friction my body provides.

“Maybe your hole isn’t tight at all. Hmm? You let the whole track team fuck you?”

“The football team too,” he throws back. “In fact, you’re the only one who hasn’t fucked me.”

His words shouldn’t piss me off, but they do. I know he’s fucking with me, but it agitates me all the same.

“They’re not allowed to anymore.” I bite his earlobe. “You belong to me.”

“Right now, in this bed, is the only time I’ll belong to you.”

A thrill shoots down my spine because though it’s an argument, he half agreed to something I didn’t realize I wanted. His complete submission.

“Are you going to tell everyone at school you let me fuck you bare?” I suck on his neck again. “Because when I have you, it’ll be bare.”

I’m not going to fuck him.

I’m not.

But taunting him seems to drive him insane, which is the goal.

“How do I know you’re negative?” he murmurs, turning his head slightly so my lips brush along his cheek.

“I haven’t fucked anyone in over a year,” I admit. “I’ve been tested since then.”

“Not even Naomi?”

“She didn’t want to.”

“Didn’t take you for the gentlemanly type.”

“I’m only an asshole to you.”

He moans when I lick his neck again. The sound reverberates to my dick, and it strains in my jeans.

It’s all talk.

To get inside his head so I can fuck him over.

Or just fuck him…

“Canyon, please,” he begs. “I need…”

“What, Wonderland?” I lift up so I can see his face. “Tell me. Do you want to come?”

His fathomless mahogany eyes are hooded as he nods. I can’t help but drop my stare to his parted, pink lips as his breath comes out unevenly. Would he make those same keening sounds if I was buried deep inside him?

Not. Fucking. Alister.

“Beg to come, Alis. Beg, and I’ll make it good for you.”

“Please, please, oh fuck, please.”

Satisfaction thrums through me at his obedience. I reward him by rubbing along his dick until his breathing grows sharp and ragged. The moment he loses control and comes, a soft moan rasps from his throat. My own dick throbs painfully with the need to release.

I’m going insane because I imagine for a second pulling my dick out and painting his plump lips with my pre-cum. I release one of his hands to reach for the button on my jeans.

“Canny!” Carrie shrieks from behind me. “Don’t beat him up! I invited him here!”

I freeze, the lust fog lifting and revealing to me what exactly I’m doing. Grinding against my enemy. Jesus fuck.

“We’re just goofing around,” I croak out, releasing him to fall onto my chest beside him on the bed so my sister doesn’t see my ridiculous hard-on. “Calm down.”

“Wrestling,” Alis rushes out and then rolls away from me to his side to hide his own discomfort. “I, uh, need to get home. Maybe we can practice another day.”

The room goes silent aside from the soft panting of Alis and me. Carrie lets out a sigh, mutters something under her breath, and leaves, shutting the door behind her.

I can’t look at him.

I sure as fuck can’t face what I just did with him.

“Either you take the walk of shame with a wet spot on your pants, or you borrow something of mine,” I grunt out. “Top drawer are some shorts.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to slow my racing heart. It’s even more difficult to convince my dick it doesn’t need to come. My balls are blue as fuck right now.

He shuffles around, opening and closing drawers. A few minutes later, I hear the toilet flush and the sink running in the adjacent bathroom. I’m still in the same position when he returns.

“Should I, uh…get you off—”

“No,” I bark out. “Just go.”

“Are you going to wash my clothes, or am I going to find my jizz-crusted underwear hanging from the flagpole in the morning?”

A chuckle rumbles through me. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

“Betcha a Coke you get yourself off after I leave and think of me when you do it.”

“Go away,” I grumble.

“You didn’t win this round.”

“No,” I complain, annoyed that I’m still aching to come. “I certainly did not.”