Feuds and Reckless Fury - Page 67

“Ahh!” he cries out.

Again, I’m reminded of his sore ribs. Fuck. It’s difficult to be gentle when all I want to do is crush my body against his, melding us together as one. My heart is thundering in my chest, and our bodies are slick with sweat. I rock my hips, needing to feel more of his exquisite heat. The warring emotions from the day, anger and sadness, are slaughtered by pure want. Desire drives me to fuck into him hard and almost desperately.

But then I hear it, muffled beneath the loud thunder outside.

A whimper.

No, a sob.

The whole bed begins to tremble. Panic seizes me. I stroke my fingers through his hair and kiss the side of his neck, stalling my movement, though it feels impossible when I’m on the brink of bliss.

“Talk to me, Wonderland. Am I hurting you?”

He cries harder. As much as I’d love to continue to buck into him, I’m certainly not doing it when he cries. I slip out of him, but that only seems to make him really lose it.

“Shh, babe, Alis. Shh, talk to me. It’s okay. We don’t have to do this.”

I roll him onto his back, seeking out his lips so I can kiss him and make it all better. His bottom lip trembles as I gently suck on it, needing him to speak to me. Finally, he utters out words I’m not expecting to hear.

“This is my f-first t-time.”

My dick is throbbing angrily against his, but it wilts at his words. First time? But he said…

“Alister,” I growl, fury bleeding into my tone. “If I’d known…fuck!”

“No,” he chokes out. “I wanted it. I still want it. With you. Only you. I just…I didn’t.” Another sob. “It hurt.”

Because I shoved it in and started fucking him like an asshole.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

“Canny. Don’t. I just…I need to adjust. I still want it.” He pauses. “I should have told you. I let you believe I’d been with others like this, but I haven’t.”

The worry over him fades as possessiveness curls around a heart that’s so full of him these days, like thorny vines or barbed wire tightening and puncturing the bloody organ. Knowing we’re each other’s first male-on-male fuck settles something inside me. Something I didn’t realize was wrecked and lost. It grounds me. Gives me purpose. Strengthens me. Everything is fucked up in my life.

Not this.

Not him.

This is perfect and real and ours.

Forbidden, true, but sweet as fucking pie.

“Tell me when you’re ready, and we’ll try again,” I assure him. “Just like this. So I can kiss your pretty dick-sucking lips and look into your soul.”

The room lights up again, highlighting his face as if on cue. Rain is coming down in sheets outside, and the wind is fierce.

“Didn’t know football players were such poets,” he teases, his voice sounding more like his own, though still slightly wobbly.

“Ex-football player. And I’m a romantic now. I have a boyfriend.”

A small chuckle rumbles through him. “A boyfriend? Voss, I’m your brother. You’re so confused.”

I nip at his teasing mouth, earning a groan from him. We kiss eagerly until he’s ripping at my hair and begging me to put my dick inside him again. I finally put both of us out of our misery, easing my dick inside his clenching channel.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Wonderland?”

“Still good. Keep going.”

With the patience of a saint, I slide in at a snail’s pace until I’m fully seated in his perfect, tight body. Rather than moving, I take my time worshipping his lips and cheeks and jaw. Wherever I can rain kisses down on him, I do. I spoil him with tenderness until he’s begging for me to move. His ragged breath tickles my face, and his whimpers are so fucking lovely.

He cups my face with his hand and then slides his fingers into my hair. The grip on my hair tightens. His teeth nip at my lip, sparking a fire inside me. I pull out slightly before plunging deep again. With each probing thrust, he whines. The crying has faded, and the begging is now simply pure need. It urges me on, desperate to claim him—to spill my seed deep inside his gorgeous fucking body.

A hiss escapes him as heat gushes up between us. Knowing he’s found his release has me smiling. I drive into him over and over until the stars are back, blinding me with a kaleidoscope of never before felt pleasure. My balls draw up tight, and then my dick throbs out my orgasm. I breathe against his parted lips, marveling at how it feels to fill him up. It makes me want to fuck him like this over and over—to watch my cum try and escape his body, only for me to add more to it.

My world may be a mess, but with Alis, in this moment, it feels perfectly right.

Tags: K. Webster Romance
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