Page 15 of Tarnished

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice deep and raspy. Full of need he was unable to hide. And fuck, it made my insides warm to know he wanted me so damn much.

“I’m sure,” I croaked, wishing I didn’t sound so damn strangled. But he trusted my answer enough, obviously, because he crossed the distance between him and the bed, hovering over me.

I was—we were—really fucking about to do this.

Oh, fuck.

12

Tank

I should have turned away the moment I saw that Beck wasn’t in pain or having a nightmare. I shouldn’t have stared at the way his hand was wrapped around his cock. I sure as fuck shouldn’t have run my eyes over him and gotten so goddamn hard that I failed to think straight anymore.

Now, all I could do was step into the room when he asked me if I would come in. All I could do was walk up to that bed and run my eyes over him. Drink him in.

He was so damn beautiful. Why was he so fucking gorgeous? Even with his hair growing out, his darker roots showing—a stark contrast to his blonde hair—he was still stunning. And those tattoos told a story—a story I wanted to read. To map. To memorize. I wanted to know everything about him—from a skin-surface level all the way down to the very depths of his soul.

Gripping the back of my shirt, I tugged it over my head before letting it drop to the floor. Beck made a needy sound in the back of his throat, his eyes tracking over my body—from my neck, over my shoulders, down my biceps, across my chest. My abs tensed and rolled when his gaze caressed them, and fuck, the way he licked his lips when his eyes traced the V of my hips…

“Shirt off,” I commanded, my voice rough.

Beck sat up and tugged his shirt over his head without a moment’s hesitation, tossing it to the floor on top of mine. I licked my lips, drinking in his flat stomach and the colorful tattoos across his ribcage and on his stomach. He had a single, beautiful red, blue, and green rose on his right peck that I desperately wanted to trace with my tongue.

Reaching down, I unsnapped my jeans and eased down the zipper, watching the quick rise and fall of Beck’s chest. His eyes were locked on my jeans, eagerly awaiting the reveal of my cock. I wasn’t a small man by any means. My cock was thick and long—in perfect proportion to my tall, bulky frame. I was hoping it wouldn’t freak him out, but if it did—if he decided to call this off—then I would respect that. I would leave the room and give him the space he needed and deserved to have.

Beck roughly swallowed as I pushed my jeans and briefs down to the floor to pool at my feet. My cock hung heavy and hard between my thighs, and I watched his fingers twitch before they curled into the blankets beside his thighs, his lips slightly parting.

His cock bobbed against his stomach, precum smearing across his skin. He was leaking so much now that I knew without a doubt he’d come within moments of me being inside of him. He was desperate for it, and God, I loved how needy he was for me and what I could do to his body. The pleasure I could bring him.

And fuck, I would give him so much.

Stepping out of the pile of my jeans and briefs, I placed my right knee between his slightly spread thighs, leaning over him. He tilted his head back, letting those pretty gray eyes meet mine. They were so open, so expressive, letting me read everything. His lust. His cravings. His nervousness.

Reaching up, I cupped his cheek, brushing my thumb along his bottom lip. His tongue came out to touch the pad of my thumb, and a deep rumble echoed from the depths of my chest. Fuck, he was such a tease.

“Do you trust me?” I asked him, my voice low. Soft. Tender.

Immediately, he nodded. “I do. Fully.”

Fuck. Those words… I would never take them for granted. I knew it couldn’t be easy for him to trust me after everything he’d gone through and witnessed. That trust needed to be nurtured. Protected. And I would. Always.

“Good. Then lay back for me, baby.”

Again, he immediately did as I instructed, laying back against the mattress. I gripped the top of his open jeans and the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down at the same time. Once he was naked before me, I moved my body over his, slotting our cocks together as I took his lips in a slow, soft kiss. He sighed, parting his lips beneath mine so I could deepen the kiss. Our tongues danced. Slid together like we’d known each other all our lives instead of mere days.

“Tank…” he breathed, his fingertips pressing into my broad shoulders. I grunted and lightly thrust my cock against his, moaning at how slick his cock already was just from all the precum he’d been leaking.

“Ash,” I groaned, nipping at his jaw. “My real name is Ash. Ash Grave.”

His eyes opened, looking at me, those gray eyes hazy with pleasure. “Ash…” he breathed.

Fuuuuuck. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the way my name sounded on his lips. A name I hadn’t heard in years. But I never wanted him to call me anything different. I always wanted to be Ash to him. To both him and Clarke.

“That’s what you’ll call me from now on,” I rasped, making my way down his neck. He angled his head just right, granting me the access to his skin I needed. I groaned, nuzzling into his neck before I sucked lightly at a tender spot that made him moan and buck his hips up into mine, his blunt nails biting into my skin.

Reaching between us, I grasped our cocks, sliding them together. He whined, his thighs parting, cradling me between them. I groaned, moving my hand faster when he began to thrust up into my fist, his lips parted, his neck arching as he chased his orgasm.

“That’s it, baby,” I rumbled, kissing and nipping and licking at his shoulders as he began trembling, his body preparing to fall apart for me. “Give me your cum, sweet boy. Let me watch you fall apart. Please,” I begged. I fucking needed to see what he looked like cum drunk and delirious with how good I made him feel.

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