Resist (Sphere of Irony 3)

When I reach the threshold to my bedroom, I whip around, prepared to take a well-deserved fist to my jaw. Only Mitch isn’t expecting my abrupt turn and crashes into me. The collision sends us both stumbling into the room, me going down ass first with Mitch’s full weight knocking the wind out of my lungs in a loud huff.

“Motherfucker!” I wheeze, gasping for air. “Get the hell off of me, Hale!”

Mitch shifts and something happens. As he tries to right himself, his hips align with mine and twin hard-ons slide against each other through layers of clothing.

We both freeze. Mitch hovers over me, his hands on either side of my head. The angry expression isn’t completely gone, as proven by the tight line of his jaw. But those eyes, they tell another story altogether. Mitch is turned on.

And I can’t move.

Not because he’s heavy, which he is. I love the feel of a solid, muscular man on top of me. No, I can’t move because the way Mitch is looking at me, with a mixture of loathing and lust, I don’t know what to expect next.

“I hate you,” he snarls. Then he fists my shirt in one hand and crushes his mouth over mine.

That was not what I was expecting.

Mitch lets go of my shirt and drops his weight onto his elbows, allowing more of his body to slide against mine. Those wide, glorious pecs drag across my shirt, rubbing my sensitive nipples. A groan is pulled from deep inside my chest.

Unable to stop myself, I bring my arms up around Mitch’s waist and slide them down to grip two handfuls of round, rock hard ass. My hips instinctually lift to get better friction across our erections.

Mitch grunts into my mouth and grinds his own hips down against mine. He begins a slow, rhythmic rocking that quickly drives me out of my mind, pressure building in my groin. The entire time, our tongues slip and slide and duel for dominance.

With a gasp, Mitch breaks the best damn kiss of my life. Huge, black pupils surrounded by a sliver of grey stare down at me.

“I still fucking hate you,” Mitch growls.

I’m mesmerized by those swollen, red lips. Now that I know how they taste, and I mean really know, I want more. So much more.

“Then why are you kissing me?” I pant.

“I don’t know.”

Mitch attacks my mouth again. We come together in a messy clash of sharp teeth and velvet tongues. The hard length that grinds against mine has me moaning and writhing in minutes.

I want this so much. In fact, I’m this close to coming, but there’s no way I’m dealing with a shame-filled, closeted asshole that blames me afterwards. Been there, done that. No thanks.

I try to speak, but Mitch’s mouth never stops it’s sinful assault, so my voice comes out mumbled. “Shhttop.”

His hips roll wickedly and my mind goes blank. I swear I see lights sparking in the back of my eyes as they roll up into my head. Where the hell did he learn that?

Mitch groans long and loud and it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. My cock twitches and I shudder from the restraint required to keep from coming. I have to turn my head to the side to tear my mouth away from Mitch’s. Even then he still doesn’t stop, happy to continue licking and biting my ear and neck while doing that sinful hip thrust. My balls tighten as I teeter on the edge.

“Fuck! Mitch, stop.”

His hot tongue slides along a tendon down my neck, followed by quick, sharp nips of his teeth.

Holy mother of god.

“Mitch,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

“What?”

His voice is the rough, deep timbre of a man caught up in a haze of sexual pleasure. Jesus, this is more difficult than I thought. Every cell in my body is screaming for release and I’m trying to stop it from happening. I let my arms drop back to my sides, immediately mourning the loss of having that perfect ass cupped in my hands.

I catch my breath and focus so I don’t lose my train of thought. “Why are you doing this?” My eyes are riveted to his mouth as his tongue peeks out

and swipes across his lower lip.

Focus lost.