Page 48 of Naughty November

“I’d force my way in slowly,” he whispered.

Jesus.

I screwed my eyes shut. Problem was, I wasn’t just picturing primal takedowns and rape play. I was envisioning us in my bed, sharing lazy mornings of hard, sweaty, unhurried fucking where we took as much as we gave.

He went for my shorts, and I let him. But…only because he was making my next move real easy.

Button undone, zipper coming down…

“I bet you’re tight as fuck,” he murmured.

Yeah, I’d fucking say so, considering I’d never bottomed before.

I stayed quiet. He slipped a hand down my front and cupped my cock, and I exhaled.

He kissed my neck. “You drive me fucking crazy, Reid.”

It’s mutual.

I gave in to the pleasure for a moment. I fucking had to. I turned around, and we met in another searing kiss. Fight temporarily forgotten. We made out as if our lives depended on it, and he had to fucking see how hot we were together. He had to feel it. This sense of urgency couldn’t be faked.

Soon, though, my need became too forceful. When he wasn’t prepared, I grabbed a fistful of his hair, and I snaked my foot behind his knees to unlock them. Then I pushed him down onto his knees, quickly grabbed my cock, and forced it between his lips.

He cursed and sent me a death glare, but he went with it. He sucked me into his mouth and closed his eyes.

“There we go,” I breathed. “Be a good cocksucker for me.” I manhandled him into position, so I was the one trapping him against the boulder, and I didn’t hold back for a second. I pushed my way in and started fucking his throat in sharp thrusts. “You wanna fuck my ass? You better up your game, darlin’.”

He grabbed the backs of my legs roughly and let his fingernails dig in painfully.

I hissed a curse but didn’t stop. Only every now and then to allow him a breath or two, and then I was raping his throat once more.Fucking hell, he felt good. He didn’t gag as much as I’d anticipated, and it pissed me off. Goddamn jealousy. How many partners had he pleasured this way?

I clenched my jaw and went faster, and I somehow lost my filters…

“I want you to be done wastin’ these skills on others,” I gritted out.

His eyes flashed open, and the intensity in his gaze made me pull back. All I saw was fire and unshed tears, and it was a gut punch. I hauled him up and kissed him again, and he panted and croaked something incoherent.

This time, he didn’t roll with the punches. He pushed me away and scowled, and I noticed I must’ve gotten him with my teeth. The corner of his bottom lip was bleeding.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked hoarsely. “Wasting skills on others?”

No, we weren’t going there now. I’d opened the can of worms, and I could apologize for that later.

Instead, I gave my cock a few strokes and motioned for him to turn around. I had to fuck him.

“Are you kidding me?” he laughed humorlessly. “Now you want somethin’ without a fight? Dream on.”

Oh, I could fight. I made quick work of tucking myself in and zipping up, and I?—

“Great—now you’re a mute again,” he stated. “Default Reid mode. Don’t say anything, don’t show anything.”

What the fuck?

“This whole weekend—you throw me for this fucking loop, and now I’m just supposed to guess?” he demanded. “What the hell are we doing? You say we’re solid, but are we? What happens when we go back home? Do we pretend we didn’t cross every line in the book?”

I scrubbed a hand over my mouth and jaw, feeling the tension build up too fast for me to get shit under control. Anger, jealousy, possessiveness, and this…this sense of just being so fucking done. I couldn’t pretend anymore. I couldn’t mosey my way through life and cope with the occasional depressive episodes during which I pined over my best friend and let it come out in anger. How many hours had I wasted at the shooting range convincing myself we weren’t a good fit? That we didn’t make sense?

“Fuck it, we’re done here,” Max said. “I’m gonna wash all this sand off.”

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