Page 69 of Covenant
Oh fuck.
This. Is.Everything.
My hand tugs him closer, feeling my dick tunnel down his throat, and when it contracts, I let out a filthy groan as I unload directly into his stomach. He swallows over and over, his moans traveling through my groin and settling in my thighs. I quiver, shake, and nearly collapse as my orgasm rolls through me.
And then, when it’s over, I sag slightly, trying to catch my breath as he releases me and falls backward, cum lingering on his lips.
I stare down at him, completely and utterly ruined.
There. I finally caught him. He’s on his knees before me.
But the question is—now what?
17
WYATT
Matthias stands, his eyes dark as he thumbs at a drop of cum at the corner of his lips. I watch, fascinated, as he pushes it back into his mouth and sucks. A whimper lingers in my throat at the sight, unsure as to why that’s almost as hot as him being on his knees. I shouldn’t make those sounds. I shouldn’t like this at all.
But I do.
“You taste…fucking good,” he says roughly, licking his thumb one more time. He sees the way my eyes widen, must be able to hear the pounding of my heart because he asks, “You going to run now?”
My eye twitches and I can’t help but take a step closer, bracketing him against the wall with my forearms. “Fuck you. I’m not the one who’s been running or hiding. I’ve been in our bed every night. Right where you told me to be.”
His eyes flick to the side. Is that guilt? Fuck if I know. I can’t read him.
Not like I used to.
“I thought you’d be happier not sleeping with me.”
“You keep doing that,” I murmur, my gaze dipping to his lips. It’s been mere minutes since I’ve had a taste and I’m already thinking of doing it again. “Assuming what’ll make me happy. Ever think of, oh I don’t know,asking me?”
“Maybe I’m used to you not talking to me.”
It hits like a barb. A shot in the tentative cease-fire between us. “I’m not the one who ghosted our friendship all those years ago.”
Matt finally meets my eyes. “I had my reasons.”
I wrap my hand around his throat. To choke him, that’s what I tell myself. Not because I need to be touching him. That would be ridiculous. I hate touching him. My thumb strokes over his pulse and I feel it frantically pulsing. “Gonna share those reasons,Matthias?”
He flinches at my return to his full name but doesn’t push my hand away. “Depends. Are you ready to listen now,Wy?”
We glare at each other, both too stubborn to back down.
Am I ready to listen? To go back to that night? To everything that followed?
No.Doing that means digging up a bunch of bullshit. Opening myself up to potentially being hurt again.
Fuck that. There’s no reason to go there for either of us. We’re stuck together for a year, then we’ll both go our own ways. It doesn’t have to be more than that.
“You know what,” I drawl, letting my hand trail down Matthias’s throat. It stops at the base, finding its home there. “I don’t think talking is what we should be doing.”
He swallows roughly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “It isn’t?”
“No,” I lean in, nipping at his lower lip until he hisses. “Talking leads to fighting. We don’t need to like each other to survive the next twelve months.”
He goes rigid under my touch. He glares at me, and for a moment, I think he’s going to argue. But just as fast, he collapses back in on himself. “What are you suggesting exactly?”
