Page 55 of Off the Rim
Not that he’s told me about them. That's another thing we need to talk about. What happened at the GSU fraternity? But that's a conversation for another day. Back to the issue at hand. "But you've done other stuff, obviously. Before me, I mean."
"I've gotten my dick sucked a lot. Like, a lot a lot."
See? That cockiness right there. That fucking smirk! He's got to be fucking with me.
"And you've sucked your fair share, too, I'd imagine." There's no possible way he hasn't had a lot of practice choking on cock to master deep throating like he has. I've never experienced anything like it.
Ashton's face reddens under the dim glow of the streetlamps, and I'm pretty sure my mouth drops open wide enough to catch all the flies.
"You're fucking with me."
"Nope. I was a selfish motherfucker before I met you. I took advantage of my status, let people kiss my feet and suck my dick and gave nothing back." He spits the words out like they taste bad, like he's disgusted by his own actions. "I used people, Marcus. The way all of those guys do. The way my dad does. I was no better than them. Worse, because people got hurt because of my selfishness."
"Was," I say, emphasizing the tense of the word he used. "Whatever happened changed you."
"You changed me," he says, the sincerity in his voice tugging at my heartstrings. "I'd probably be just as much a piece of shit if I didn't find you here."
As we stand in the quad, staring at each other and trying to make sense of how much has changed in such a short period, snowflakes start to fall in small, breezy flurries. They catch on Ashton's top knot, both our hoodies, my nose.
"So, are we doing this?" Ashton finally says, breaking the silence.
"It's a stupid idea."
"Probably."
Are we still talking about sex? It almost feels like we're talking about more. I'm not sure I'm there yet, but I'm also not willing to walk away at this point.
"Our families hate each other. We hate each other?—”
Ashton’s response is immediate and firm. "I never hated you."
"I hated you," I admit.
Hated.Past tense. I'm not sure when it stopped, but somewhere along the way, it became something else entirely.
"You can take it out on me."
The tension between us is thick and heavy, filling the elevator with a noticeable humidity. Despite barely beginning to thaw from the cold walk home and standing in the snow for however long, I'm sweating. The anticipation is buzzing in my veins, warming me from the inside out. Neither of us speaks, or even breathes audibly, as we ascend to the top floor and walk to Ashton's door. He unlocks it, and we step inside, silently removing our shoes and jackets.
The first thing Ashton does is walk into his small kitchenette and open a drawer. He pulls out a folded sheet of paper and passes it to me.
"What's this?"
He waits for me to unfold the paper and see for myself. "I know we all get regular health checks, but that's my last results. I've had multiple negative tests since the last time I was with anyone else, but it's only been you since I transferred."
"Oh. Okay. Um, thanks. Mine was negative, too. I can pull it up on my phone for you," I say, unlocking my phone to find the portal where our health results are saved.
"No need. I trust you."
The words are heavy with meaning. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, like I've swallowed rocks and shook them up. He needs me to know that he trusts me, and he's asking me to do the same. But am I there yet?
Ashton steps into my space, backing me against the counter. His lips hover over the shell of my ear.
"I want you to fuck me raw. Take my virgin ass and fill it so good." He peppers the words over my neck, jaw, and mouth, kissing and licking the words from my skin once he's said them.
I curse as most of my primary brain function shorts out. Tilting my head up, I lick and suck the skin under his chin and down his neck before pulling his head down so I can reach his mouth. Our tongues wrap around each other, flicking and caressing, until the kiss grows fevered. We become frantic, stripping each other and ourselves, bumping into walls and furniture as we make it to the bedroom. His bed is a large California king-sized mattress on the floor that reaches from one wall to another, so tightly wedged it barely fits. The bedding is a satiny silver-grey, the comforter a complimentary darker charcoal grey. As we come to a stop at the bottom of the mattress, Ashton drops to his knees and takes me in his mouth.
He teases my head, swirling his tongue around the foreskin, before taking me deep. Eyes locked on mine, he sinks down my shaft purposefully slowly, taking me inch by inch until I touch the back of his throat. Then he swallows, adjusts his angle, and keeps going.
