Page 61 of These Wicked Games
“No.” He slaps my ass and stabs that spot again. I reach between my legs giving my cock a squeeze, but he slaps my hand away, pulling my cock back and latching his lips around the head, sucking me. My arms buckle in the center, falling forward, leaving me helpless.
“Oli, come on.” His tongue slowly drags from under my cockhead, all the way under the shaft, over my balls and up my taint, until his tongue joins his fingers slowly working me open. He does it again, and again, and if he doesn’t fucking stop, I’ll lose my load before this even begins.
Oli, it turns out, does have a heart and takes mercy on me. He slips his fingers out. There’s no lube, but he’s left me sloppy and open, and when he taps my ass I get the hint. I go to turn around, but instead he pulls me to his chest, his cock pressing along my back. Reaching forward around me, he pulls one of my legs free of my pants, letting my legs spread wider. “Lift.”
I listen, feeling him grab his cock and notch it to my hole. “If it’s too much, just tell me.”
I snort. “Really full of yourself there, Oli.”
“Do you ever shut that smart fucking mouth?” he growls against my neck.
“Only when you make me.” I look back, catching the heat in his eyes, and he must see the dare in mine. Feeling him press against my hole, I sink down, andfuuucck. “Holyfuckingshit.” I reach behind, cupping the back of his head as I sink down slowly. I take my time. I have never and will never experience a high like this. His girth is insane, the stretch fucking euphoric. It’s tight with no lube, and I sit for a minute adjusting to him. It hurts, I’m not going to lie, but it’s a burn I bathe in. Fuck, he feels amazing.
Kisses sprinkle across the back of my neck. I’m not used to soft and sweet. While I crave his brutality, something about this is squeezing my chest. A soft rumble escapes him as I sink fully onto him. “So fucking tight,” he moans against my neck, nipping my ear. His hands slide under my hoodie, exploring every line andridge of my stomach before one hand sneaks up to pinch a nipple. My balls ache, and my body is so fucking sensitive, so full of this man. “You alright?”
“So fucking alright. The most alright anyone has ever been.” He chuckles, and taking a breath, I begin to move. He hits every fucking spot he needs to as I grind down on top of him. Thank fuck for tinted windows, but even if someone could see us right now, I don’t think I’d be able to stop. Oli meets me with every thrust, and he’s trembling. Or maybe it’s me. Heavy moans, Oli’s curses, my whines fill the car.
“Fuck,” I moan breathlessly, so fucking drunk on the man inside me. His forehead presses to the back of my head, his hands exploring before they dip down to reach around, one gripping my cock and the other cupping my heavy balls.
“Andre, fuck, I can’t—” He kisses the back of my neck. “What you do to me. I can’t . . . take it.”
A full-body shiver goes up my spine as he begins to stroke me, and my ass clamps down around him like a vise. I’m vibrating with the need to come. He gently squeezes and cups my sac. I feel him tighten under me. “Oli, fuck, Oli,” I moan louder, rolling my hips back harder. Every time I sit fully, he slides over that spot. I swallow, shaking, and roll my hips a few times as his hand picks up speed on my cock. My orgasm slams into me and I unload over his hand.
“Andre, fuck,” he moans against the back of my neck. Warmth fills me as he twitches and shakes under me, groaning so loudly against my hair.
His cock jerks as he fills me, and his arms around me tighten. I’m so full of his cum, I never want it to leave. A weird fucking thought, but it’s true. I never want to be withoutthis, withouthim. Without this feeling. A feeling only this fucking asshole under me can seem to give me. It’s way more than sex, and I swallow with the reality of it.
“Holy shit.” He chuckles against my neck, peppering kisses across my skin, still holding my softening cock. I can’t move; my legs are jelly. I’ve made a mess all over the back seat and I don’t even care. I came so hard I can feel it in my spine, my toes, my balls. Breathing heavily, I finally sag against him, his cock still deep inside me. He leans over to grab his duffel bag, trying not to move me too much, and takes out a T-shirt to wipe his hands, then hands it to me. I clean my stomach up and then lie back against him, legs still spread wide with Oli deep inside me. Leaning my head on his shoulder, I look up, and his arms wrap around my stomach, holding me to him.
Something shifts in the heat we’ve created inside this car. Leaning down, his lips find mine, and I kiss him lazily, still living in the hazy warmth of him, my body still clenching with the aftershocks. Kissing me one last time, he presses his forehead to my head. “Fuck, Dre.” He smiles. “I never thought it could feel like this.”
“Like what?” My eyes close with the warm heat of him at my back.
Those soft lips land on my neck. “Insane. So good.” His hand slips down to touch my soft cock before he reaches between my legs to rub the place we’re still connected. “I don’t want you to get up,” he whispers. “I think this would make for an awkward drive home, though.” I laugh, nodding, getting the hint.
I lift a bit with a wince and let him slip out, before pulling my sweats back up, ignoring his cum dripping down my thighs.
Oli slides out of the back and into the driver’s seat, and I don’t even argue, slipping into the passenger seat through the console. My legs are barely working. It’s warm in here and smells like sex. “Where to?”
I look over at him. I know where I want to be, and that’s anywhere his arms are. I don’t say this, though, because the reality of us is that Oli likes to share orgasms, and that’s it. But whatever happened in that back seat was more than a quick fuck. His hands, his lips, this warring confusion that happens in my chest every time I see him . . . Something deeper is happening to me and I can’t even say I hate it.
Taunting Oli has always been as easy as breathing, but this . . . I don’t know how to do this. “I’m tired,” I say instead. “Drive to your house, then I’ll drive home.” I think I see confusion in his eyes, but maybe I’m just projecting. Probably. Oli can’t fucking stand me on a good day. He likes my ass, but that’s it. He likes the rough way we fuck. I scratch some itch, some primal part of him that he couldn’t reach for years.
Oli doesn’t say a word, pulling out of the dirt parking lot and driving down the mountain. We’re quiet the entire way to his house. I hate the feeling clenching my gut right now. I can handle anger, but this . . . this is bullshit. I swallow past the stupid emotions balling in my throat. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
When Oli pulls up to his house the tension hasn’t eased, and it takes all my strength to open the door and get out of the car, bypassing him and the confusion on his face. Mixed in with my sadness now is fear, because I haven’t really been home since Tripp stopped by practice. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I know hehasn’t left. It won’t be that easy. It’s never that easy when it comes to him.
“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, right?”
“You throat fucked me until I nearly blacked out, Ol. Why the warm and fuzzies now?”
“Don’t be a dick. You seem upset.”
“I think I can take you dry, Oli. I’m fine.” I laugh with zero humor. Besides, I wasn’t dry. He loosened me up, stretched me open. Made sure I was ready. He cared, and I don’t know . . . I don’t know what to do with that.
It was too much.
I expect him to fuck off inside, but instead he stands here next to my car, scrutinizing me. “What?”
