Page 45 of Obsessed with the Player

And because I hated it, I didn’t let Dan look away. I fucked him, face to face, chest against chest, his thighs around my hips, and I pushed into him, slowly, deeply, with full-on thrusts that rocked my world every time. I always worked up a sweat as I fucked him, because I kept trying to make it last longer, to really taste it, enjoy it, to savor every bite, and now it was no different.

I kept fucking and fucking into him, trailing soft, wet kisses on Dan’s face, on his neck, whispering dirty praise and being all mean when he wanted me to go faster, because it made his breath hitch when I didn’t, his cock became even harder when I teased him.

Dan was just so fucking gorgeous when I fucked him, and the thought haunted me that I would never get to see how much more he could soften, what he would look like when he kept discovering more of these secret little kinks, what it would be like to edge him for an entire week before fucking him all night, then finally letting him come.

How he’d beg. How he’d cry out for more. How he’d claw at my back to get close enough to me, and how he’d nuzzle his head onto my shoulder when we were done and he was finally satiated.

I wondered what Dan would look likehappy.

And I hated that I would never see it.

Because the truth was, Dan had always been a problem to me, my sweetest temptation, the forbidden apple in the garden, because I’d always known that guys like Dan would never look twice at guys like me, and even if he did, now that he had, I knew that this wouldn’t last–it couldn’t.

Things like this didn’t have a happy ending.

They finished with a bolt of lightning and then they vanished like smoke, like they’d never been there at all.

I was now fucking Dan in earnest, desperately, and Dan was holding on to me for dear life, begging me to come.

“Andy, please,fuck–”

“Please, what, sweetheart?”

“Just–let me come–”

“Say you’re mine,” I said, getting rougher, harder, drilling into his prostate. “Here for whenever I want you. Say it.”

Dan looked like he was about to shatter, about to break, and I wanted him to shatter, to crumble, because I was crumbling, just like my excuses, just like all the walls I’d built to protect myself from him.

“I’m yours,” Dan said, the admission like it had been torn out of him.

Then I fucked him with everything I had, taking his cock and jerking it in time with my thrusts, and Dan finally came between us, his come going to my stomach and his, and I wanted to lather it all up, but I couldn’t, my own orgasm taking precedence as I thrust into him once, twice, before I came too.

I held onto his legs as I tried to push my cock deeper, push my come into him, even if there was obviously a latex barrier between us, I imagined there wasn’t. Imagined filling him up, marking him everywhere, knowing he was mine and no one else's.

It’s not going to happen.

We breathed heavily against each other, and after I managed to get the condom off and lay sideways on my bed, I pulled Dan against me, and we tangled up, kissing fervently, like Dan also knew we wouldn’t get too much longer like this.

One day, we’d have to wake up.

One day, we’d have to accept reality.

Guys like Dan weren’t meant for me.

And not even the sweet sting of his kisses managed to take away the ache that knowledge created inside my chest.

17

Dan James

The next day, I woke up feeling like my insides had been rearranged, not by Andy's dick, though maybe the way he had looked at me and seemed to dominate me, heart and soul, had had something to do with it. As I stared at the ceiling, alone in Andy’s bed, my skin felt like it was about to burst, and I wanted to throw up with the turmoil going on inside me.

At some point, Andy must have gotten up and gone to have a shower, ever the early bird, and now more than ever I was grateful for the distance, because with how much every inch of me asked me torun,I didn’t want to have an audience.

Last night–it had been a before and after. The way Andy had held me, looked at me all the while he pushed into me, asked me to say I was his,claimed mewith every inch of him, my mind had been chanting a terrible truth I’d been ignoring for so long.

Because the problem was, I had to admit to myself that I had wanted Andy for a long time, even before I was fully aware of it. I’d probably wanted him since the second I saw him, my insides immediately going to mush, my heart racing, eyes fixated on him from the very first, and I’d most likely been trying to suppress it, just like I was doing now, because deep down, I’d known that guys like him would never pay attention to guys like me, not for long. We just weren’t made of the same stuff and IknewI wasn’t special, I wasn’t like him, magnetic, larger than life andhelplessly eye-catching, and now that the truth slapped me in the face, I couldn't help but be terrified of it.

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