Page 50 of Enemies with Benefits
"I'm not all that fond of you either."
"Then let go of me!"
"Again, you could easily make it so I had no choice but to let you go. And let's be honest, it clearly doesn't require us to like each other to want each other."
He was right...about the first thing anyway. No way in hell was I going to give the miserable bastard the satisfaction of thinking I was even remotely close to agreeing with the second. Goddamn it, I was straight and had been my whole life, and there was no way I was going to have some stupid gay awakening, or whatever, because ofhim.
"I said," I reached up and grabbed hold of him, spinning him around and slamming him into the door hard enough to make it shake and his head bounce off it, "stop!"
He blinked rapidly, but his smile never faltered, his hand dropping from my neck, and he leaned against the door as if posing. “Oooh. Do you prefer to be in control? I bet you're the type to grab someone's head and do what you want when they're blowing you."
"What?" I asked, annoyed that he was still talking like that, alarmed that he was absolutely right, and confused why my body was responding even more strongly to both those facts. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"A lot of things," he said with a laugh, reaching to do something behind him. "You know, I'm actually curious about whether I'm right."
"Huh?" I asked stupidly, confused when I heard a beep and then a click. He stumbled back, and I stumbled forward as the door behind him gave way. For one terrified minute, I thought someone had been in the room the whole time before seeing that it was empty. I had only just managed to process that he’d opened the door with one of the small, plastic keys that hotelstaff carried before his hands were on me again, swinging me around and slamming me into metal shelving as hard as I had hit the door with him.
"Trust me," he hissed, his hand on my groin again, but this time undoing the top of my jeans. "I'm not exactly happy about this whole thing either. Difference is, I'm willing to accept that and enjoy myself. You take a lot more convincing."
"Stop fucking touching me!" I snarled before his hand was shoved down my pants, and a jolt of pleasure shot through me as warmth wrapped around my impossibly hard shaft. Once more, I was filled with that awful feeling of loathing that infuriated me and yet did nothing to give me any power or control over what was happening. For one awful moment, I was reminded of the addicts I’d dealt with in the past.
Not the ones who were essentially just cancers on society. The others were just as destructive, just as harmful, but they at least bore some conscience. Those were the ones who knew they were destroying their lives, harming the ones who cared about them, and potentially making themselves a threat to other people. But even with all that self-loathing, frustration, and sometimes anger, they still felt drawn to their fix of choice every time, as if all that negative emotion fed their addiction rather than drove them away.
What should have been a moment of clarity was blasted apart and scattered to the winds when I realized that after shoving my jeans and underwear out of the way, Mason waskneeling. The eternally proud, ever in control, constantly dominating Mason Fucking Beckett was kneeling in front of me. The realization should have made me laugh at the idea, made me mock him for being so easy, and freaked me out because he was doing it. Any number of things would have made sense. Instead, my body decided to betray me, and the sight of him kneeling before me,gripping the base of my cock sent a wave of arousal through me so mentally powerful that it translated to the physical.
I knew that later I would hate the sense of helplessness I felt as he leaned forward, anticipation taking over any sense of reason or common sense. I had no idea which had a greater effect on me, the sight of him taking the head of my cock into his mouth, or the sensation of the wet warmth wrapping around it. A groan slipped from my lips before I could stop myself, and I chided myself silently for the lack of self-control. That voice immediately went silent as he slid forward, taking me into his throat.
There was a pause, and I smirked when I heard a wet sound before he pulled back. "All that shit you talked, and you're already gagging? You're a fucking awful homo."
He looked up at me, and despite his mouth being full and stretched, I could sense that if he could, he'd be smirking. Mason smirked at a lot of things, but in this case, I realized I had opened my mouth far too soon as he slid forward. My hands slammed back into the shelving behind me, gripping it tight as he took me into his throat again, but this time even further. Pleasure strong enough to make me wonder if I was getting dizzy passed through me as I watched him swallow me whole, taking it all and making it disappear like the world's most degenerate magic trick. Damn him, he hadn't been gagging, he had been lubing my dick up to make it easier to deep throat me, I should have realized as I'd seen the trick before. Only once, but it should have left an indelible mark on my memory.
"Fucking…" I hissed as he slid back and pushed forward again, clearly comfortable with my full length. Even knowing he was apparently into guys, I had never once thought he was capable of something like that. In fact, if I had been asked and convinced to answer, I would have said he was the type to get his before moving on, leaving the other person frustrated andwanting more. Apparently, that wasn't the case as he moved expertly and with an enthusiasm that was unnerving since the man wasn't supposed to give a fuck about me, let alone be interested in trying to get me off.
And trying he was. I could already tell he wasn't going to have to go too long before he succeeded either. It wasn't like I had gotten myself off since the last time I'd seen him, out of fear of what it would conjure in my head. Even the thought of finding a woman willing to have some fun had raised that same worry. The last thing I needed was being with a woman, stranger or not, and seeing Mason's face swimming up into my head in the middle of things.
Except now it was his face, right in front of me, his lips wrapped tightly around my dick and working it with his mouth and throat in a way that hadn't been done in ages. My hand had ended up in his hair and was holding it tight as he worked me vigorously, sucking me down until his nose pressed tightly against my hips before pulling back to the head, sucking on the sensitive tip, and diving back down. Eventually, he stopped teasing and sucking me and began to work up an actual rhythm, no longer stopping to tease the head.
Another curse rumbled out of me, and I stopped thinking about how wrong it was, how there was no way I was discovering some latent gayness with him of all people, or how much I hated him. Instead, I was lost in what he was doing and decided that was enough. Not to stop it, of course, but him controlling the entire thing. If Mason wanted my cock in his throat that badly, then he was going to get it.
When I gripped his head, preventing him from moving, he didn’t look surprised, irritated, or even worried. Instead, that same smirk returned, and I shoved my hips forward, burying myself and rubbing his nose against my groin as his throat squeezed me. I didn't care if he could handle something morevigorous or not, I began working my hips up to a steady, almost hammering pace. Whatever protests he might have had were going to go ignored as I treated his throat like a toy to use.
My strokes were just as deep as his mouth had gone, but with far more power and speed behind them. I drove down into his throat over and over again, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds he made as I violated it. I savored the control, but I also thoroughly enjoyed how well it was working. There wasn't a moment of resistance from him or any sign of a struggle. He just reached up and gripped my ass, which I barely noticed as the pressure in my gut built stronger and stronger.
It started in my legs, tension building before I finally gripped the back of his head and thrust forward. With a growl, I came down his throat, my legs shaking as the pleasure washed through me. His grip on my ass tightened, and another, new pleasure passed through me as I heard and felt him moan around my cock. Goddamn, he was actually enjoying it, including my treatment of him, which was so much rougher and dismissive than I had ever been with a sexual partner.
With a low groan, I pulled out of his mouth, still more hard than soft but wilting all the same. His face was flushed, lips red and mouth covered in saliva from the vigorous fucking I'd given it, but fuck, even with the clarity that came after an orgasm, I still found the sight impossibly attractive. Not enough to stop me from stuffing myself back into my pants hurriedly, taking time to make sure I didn't catch myself in the zipper before closing my pants and stepping around him to put distance between us.
He chuckled, grabbing a towel that was sitting on the shelf and opening it, using the side that hadn't been touched by dust to wipe his face as he got to his feet. "See? I was right."
I stared at him, eyes darting down to his pants. Even with the tight leather riding pants he was wearing, I could see the outline of his bulge. I didn't care what he thought was going on,there was no way in hell I was going to return the favor when the bastard hadn't cared about what I wanted in the first place. Admittedly, he was right that I could have put a lot more effort into trying to stop him, but that just made my desire to leave him hanging even stronger.
He followed my gaze down to his crotch and smirked. “That? Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it later."
"What is wrong with you?" I repeated, shoving him out of the way to grab the door and yank it open.
"See, it's not me you should be worried about. Because if you think you were freaked out about the first time, imagine how freaked out you're going to be after this?"
"I'm not going to worry about it."
