Page 45 of These Wicked Games
He pulls off with a pop, rolling his hips harder. Abruptly he gets off of me, and I’m confused until he snatches the belt, choking me as he drags me off the bed. I yelp, afraid and so turned on. “On your knees.” I kneel so fucking fast at his feet it’s pathetic, the belt straps still tight around my neck. “Stroke your dick and suck my cock.” The low command sends a shiver down my spine. I obey, stroking myself, and my eyes remain trapped in Oli’s gaze as he feeds me his dick again. I suck, I drown, I savor every single brutal thrust he gives me. I feel drunk. This feeling is better than what any high could create. I look up, and my heart squeezes in my chest. The look he’s giving me, the adoration in his eyes . . .
I suck harder as he thickens. I need him. I need everything. I moan as he pulls out, working my dick faster as he comes on my face and chest. I can’t help myself, leaning back in and licking the stray drops leaking from his tip—salty, heady, and so fucking good. “That’s it, huh? That’s what you needed?” I nod. He reaches out a hand, the other still firmly gripping the belt, then drags his fingers along my chest, gathering his release. “Open.”
I listen. I’m such a good listener! I stick out my tongue as Oli teases those fingers at my lips before shoving them into my mouth. I taste him, suck and lick his fingers, my hand still working my dick. He reaches those fingers back and I gag on them. A smile kicks up the corner of his sinful lips before he pulls them out.
I look down. His cock is softening but no less impressive, the tip still shiny with cum. I’m a fucking mess. I’m not sure what kind of spell this man has me under, but I lean forward into the crease of his pelvic bone, pressing my nose into his pubes and inhaling. Fuck, that woodsy musk fills my lungs. I’m unhinged. Drowning. Drunk on his scent and rough touch.
I look up, my lips right next to his cock. Oli looks broken, those blue eyes trained on me. His dirty-blond hair is an erratic mess. He looks like a Norse god. “Touch yourself. Come on.” The husky command sends me over the edge. Sucking my fingers, I dip them under my balls, running the pad of my middle finger over my hole. He tightens the straps just a hair tighter. “You’re going to come, huh?” I nod. I need this worse than I’ve ever needed anything.
Oli unwraps the belt from my throat, throwing it aside. He grips my jaw hard, forcing my gaze up, as my finger dips inside my entrance. My cock thickens. “Kuli—” I lick my lips, his cum painted on my mouth and chin. “I’m going to come.” He grips harder, holding my gaze to him, and there’s nothing I can do but stare straight into his eyes as I tremble, then break, moaning as I come on the floor. His grip doesn’t let up as I try to jerk out of his hold. He’s iron, unmovable. His lip curls slightly as disgust covers his face.
Well, fuck him very much.
Finally he let’s me go, and his eyes travel down my neck before they widen. “Fuck,” he hisses, moving away from me and grabbing boxers from his bag, then slamming the door as he disappears into the bathroom.
This is going to be a long night.
Gathering myself, I stand on shaky legs, then grab my briefs off the floor and slip them on. I look at the mess I’ve made, then clean it up as best I can. I cough and try to clear my throat. Maybe I should buy some cough drops or something. It hurts as I swallow, but it’s a pain I welcome. Walking past the mirror on the wall, I freeze seeing what Oli did to me.
A thick red mark circles my neck.Fuck. Looking closer, one side is starting to bruise. I have no idea how I’m going to explain this. Thankfully it’s cold now and I can wear hoodies, and on the ice I’m in gear. I’ll just have to be careful in the locker room.
The bathroom door creaks open and I can’t look away as Oli storms to his bed. What a fucking brat. “What—” I cough. My voice is wrecked. Oli’s glower deepens. “What’s happening with us?” I force out.
Instead of answering me Oli gives me one last scathing look, shutting off his light and pulling the covers up and over his head. He didn’t run out, I guess. A win, maybe? I want to ask him so many things. He seems both unsure and also fine with this. Fine with me being a guy at least, if the slow crawl his tongue did along my ass crack has anything to say about it. Not that Oli’s exactly known for his hookups, unlike Ryker who flaunts his frequent conquests like a badge of honor. Still, him being queer is a shock to my system. A stupid little voice speaks up under all the mess inside me.
We could’ve had this sooner.
No, no we couldn’t have. Our friendship became a tragedy.
I stand here, unsure of where to go. I’m too amped up to sleep, but he’s shut all the lights off. I decide to grab my hoodie, pulling it on and then my sweats. I navigate as best I can in the dark andgo back out to the balcony. Sitting down, I open to the page I was coloring in. At least the light out here is bright enough, and the moon above is nearly full. I’m sure Oli isn’t really asleep, but I don’t want to chance it and wake him.
I slide into one of the chairs, staring out at the city. Opening my book, something fills my nose, and it’s now I realize the mistake I made. This isn’t my hoodie. Squeezing the book in my hands, I take a breath, finding a new page to color in. The orcas can wait. They need my full attention and I just can’t give them that right now. This one is an intricate dolphin filled with tiny designs. It’s enough to keep my mind busy.
Still.
I try to color, but it’s no use. Clenching my pencil in my fist, I give in. I can’t help myself. I’m an addict. I pull the collar of the hoodie, lifting it to my nose, and inhale.
Setting my book down, I decide to go back into the room. I’m not tired but I need to shut my brain off. Or try to. Inside the room, I set my coloring book down and peel off his scent-soaked hoodie, then I take off my sweats. I watch him, now asleep I assume from the soft snores.
I walk to my bed, my fingers freezing on the covers as I look back. An idea slips into my mind and I move before common sense can stop me, turning to Oli’s bed and slipping under the covers next to him. A dangerous game, but I’m willing to take the risk. His lips are parted, his face relaxed.
This isn’t the first time we’ve shared a bed, but there’s a weight to this now that was never there when we were younger. I settle in and resist the urge to touch his face. I turn over, and maybe it’s just me, but his bed is way more comfortable than mine. I feel Olimove and shock snaps my eyes open as his big arm wraps around me, pulling me into his heat, against his chest.
I freeze, unsure of what to do as his head rests on the back of my neck. The heat of him lulls me into a sleepy haze, and his scent surrounds me. I inhale again, breathing him in. I don’t know what’s happening, but I know one thing for sure.
I am so, so screwed.
fourteen
Oli
“This is, soopid, so soopid.” Somehow Andre has gained twice his weight since I started carrying him to my room. With a thud he lands onto my bed.
“Why the hell did you drink so much?” Thankfully my mother’s asleep, and with the medication she’s on, not much can wake her once she’s passed out. Having Andre here at home with me makes me feel a bit strange. Walking over to my dresser, I grab a pair of boxers and a shirt. We’re about the same size.
“I’m going to change your clothes.”
He grins wide, his eyes incredibly glazed. It makes the green in them pop against the brown. “Going to get me nekid?” He bites his lip, then grabs his pecs, jiggling them, then pushing them together.
