Page 5 of Not Taken

Caleb shuddered as he ground against me, and he caught my eyes again. Time froze as we stilled together, my heart in my throat, awareness flooding me.

He couldn’t say anything. If he said even the slightest word that made this more than fucking, I’d run. No mission, no revenge for my family. I couldn’t stay with him if this became anything more than sex. I was too broken to survive, and I had to kill him more than I needed his love.

“Godammit, Eli,” he said, all the emotion I’d been trying to escape filling his voice. “How the hell am I meant to cope when you look at me like that?”

I had no time to think as his lips crashed into mine again, another burning wave of lust hitting me deep. But it was a distraction. It wiped away his words. and the possibility that came with them.

CHAPTER TWO

CALEB

Jesus, he was fucking sweet. I was going mad. I couldn’t stop tasting him. His lips were pure fucking heaven and I never wanted to be away from them for a single fucking second. He shouldn’t have left me for three days. It made everything worse.

Eli was going to kill me. Those little moans he gave under me, the way he eagerly rocked against me, how he gripped me like I was the only thing keeping him alive; all of it was delicious.

I tugged at his bottom lip with my teeth, pulling at it just to feel his sharp breaths on my nose. He loved the pain, a bite sinking into a fucking chorus between us.

“You’re such a needy little bitch,” I chuckled. I was trying to stay harsh, though the way he begged was fucking ruining me. I couldn’t stand it. Another thrust against him and I was a goner. And with him writhing his hips like that, I bet it was the same for him.

I was calling him a greedy slut, but I was worse.

Fuck, his cheeks were so red, his throat bobbing, his eyes on fire as he watched me reach for my cock. It was his hunger than made it hard to ignore him. Dirty-blond hair long enough to stick to his forehead when he was horny, brown eyes that showed me more than he wanted, rough stubble covering his slim jaw that left burns on me, and lips that were perfect for sucking cock.

I was so fucking desperate for him, I almost forgot about the lube. I wanted to be inside him so badly I could literally destroy his ass.

I grit my jaw as I swiped the bottle from the shitty metal shelves falling off the crumbling wall to my left, held up by weak screws and luck. I kept it hidden behind the cleaning supplies no one used. Eli didn’t know I put it in here before he’d even entered the gym at Dad’s compound. I wanted him so fucking badly I hunted for places I could fuck him just in case.

Using my chest to keep him upright, there was enough space for me to squirt some over our cocks before I threw it to the floor.

I just wanted to hear the pathetic voice that only I could bring out of him. Even if he had been off fucking other people, even if it hurt more than it should to think about it, I was the only one who made Eli Jensen tremble. I just knew it.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to have to explain to the guys why you can’t fucking walk tomorrow.”

Eli laughed, his chin lifting as if he was asking me to bite him again. I quickly cut him off by grabbing us, holding our dicks together as he choked out, “I’d like to see you try.” It only made me itch even more to be inside him. I stroked our cocks to get us nice and covered in lube so I could shove my way inside him and not have to think about how much I missed him when he was gone.

“Caleb!” he snapped, bending forward, his hair dropping to sweep across his eyes as he glared at me.

It was the look that captured me the first time we met. At our first fight in the underground club run by my dad, we hadn’t even stepped into the ring and he looked at me as if he loathed me. There was so much hatred burning off of him that I wanted to throw my fist in his face to see if he was real. Because it was fucking addictive. Like he would kill me if I got too close. The power surging off of him was so intoxicating that I had to follow him, to find out who the fuck he was, and why he wouldn’t stop staring at me.

And now, a year and a half later, he was trembling under me, hungry, wanting, and I still knew nothing about him. That look of fucking hate piercing me as I pulled his shorts out of the way and prepared my cock.

But I wanted more of him. I wanted him totally weak, gasping for my dick, so there was no doubt who was in charge.

He let out an eager sigh as I freed his cock from my grip, my lubed hand going straight for his thigh. “Give me your other leg, Eli,” I growled in his ear.

He grunted as I laid another bite on his shoulder. One day I’d to scar him so deeply that I'd permanently fuck up his flesh. For now I had to be satisfied with bruises.

“Come on, show me how much you want it.”

“What makes you think I want it?” he asked, a shiver running through him, completely giving himself away. I loved his spite. I loved how the only way he ever let up was when he needed to come so much he’d beg me for more.

“You fucking know you do. Now spread those legs, or we’re doing this the hard way.”

Eli groaned as he let me yank him up. It never took much to make him crazy. We used to fight like motherfuckers in the ring, and take the fight outside, too. If we were ever in the same bar together, we’d end up beating the shit out of each other by the end of the night. Until I saw some guy stroking his cock in an alleyway, and I suddenly realised I wanted to slam a lot more than my fist into his face.

He used to fight me when we first fucked as well. Now it was easy to see what an effort it was for him to hide how much he wanted my cock.

He came easily as I lifted him, fixing his other leg around my waist, his ankles meeting over my ass as he pushed his back against the wall.

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