Page 13 of Absolutely Pucked
“Ian.”
He didn’t react or respond other than to keep fucking me, his hips thrusting up, my entire body moving with the force of his own. I grunted, trying to keep up with him, but he seemed lost to it all.
“Ian,” I said again, this time grabbing his face. Hegasped, almost like he’d been holding his breath, then looked at me. When I had his attention, I took his hand off my stump and moved it to my dick. “Make me come.”
He let out a trembling exhale, then gripped me, his eyes never moving away from mine. “You feel so fucking good. Do you know that?”
“I’m starting to—uh, uh—to get the idea,” I told him, barely holding back another loud moan. He began to stroke me, and my head fell backward on the edge of a groan. Rolling my hips into the motion of his hand, I felt my orgasm beginning to build—hot fire at the base of my spine and deep in the core of my stomach. The muscle in my stump began to spasm with the tension I was holding. “Harder. Faster.”
He obeyed, wrapping his free arm around me to hold me steady so he could jackhammer his cock deep in my ass. It hit in all the right spots, and suddenly, the idea of coherent words was too much. I moaned, feeling slightly feral as I dropped my face into the crook of his neck and took his tendon between my teeth.
“Yeah. I can feel how much you like this. Fuck, Ford. I want to keep you. I’d give up everything to keep you.”
Those words were my undoing. They were words I’d been wanting to hear nearly half my life, and yet, I knew that wasn’t possible. There was something about him that was off-limits. I didn’t know what, but it felt a little like my heart was breaking, even as I tumbled over the edge and came all over his stomach.
He moaned loudly as he let my cock go, and it flopped into the mess I’d made as he dug all ten fingers into my ass cheeks and stuttered up deep inside me. Hisbody froze, the room eerily silent for a single breath, and then he dropped backward with a loud “Ohfuck!”
I felt him come. His cock thickened, twitched, and come filled the condom. A small part of me wished he’d fucked me bare. Wished that he’d marked me that way.
I kept that thought to myself as I collapsed on his chest and breathed in the scent of him. It was a little musky now, but I caught that gym-shower scent still lingering. “Fuck, I can’t move.”
He laughed slightly as I felt his cock begin to soften, and he gripped the condom as he slowly pulled out. “Me either.”
“Can I stay like this? Just for a bit?”
He took a long time to answer. Too long. “For a bit.”
It wasn’t the words I wanted, but they were the only ones I was going to get. Closing my eyes, I basked in something that was not for me. A stolen moment. A fantasy.
I didn’t want to let go.
CHAPTER
FOUR
KILLIAN
If Ford hadthe faintesthintof an idea about who I was, my dick most certainly wouldn’t have been intact. Neither would my balls. It was bad enough I’d recognized him from the apartment complex where I’d been parking my car while I tried to find the courage to talk to my brother. I’d seen him coming and going. I’d caught him peering into my car, trying to see past the sheets I’d put up for privacy.
He’d even called out a few times to see if anyone would answer. I stayed silent, and eventually, he left it alone. So finding him at the club, and the offer he made, it was impossible to turn him down. I just hadn’t realized the mistake I was making.
It took all of a single conversation to realize Ford and Tucker knew each other.
And it took all of my self-control not to panic and run. I wanted to be close to my brother. I wanted to know the man he had become—the person who had been shaped by all of his trauma and experience. I’dgotten a glimpse of it the first day in Vegas when he showed up. I could see the changes in him.
He was happy for maybe the first time in our lives.
There was an anger in me at seeing Tucker so content while I was absolutely wallowing in misery, and it had taken until he was gone to realize that I wasn’t actually angry with him. I was jealous. I’d picked up the pieces of the life he’d trashed with his bad decisions and his inability to ask for help, yet somehow,Iwas miserable, andhewas smiling.
I hated him for it.
And I hated myself because I’d known even then—even before Delia had shown her ass and confessed her sins—that something wasn’t right. My twin intuition had always told me there was more to her sob story of Tucker telling her he never loved her and breaking up with her.
But she’d seemed so fucking heartbroken, and he’d been so furious at his circumstances that it was easy to believe her version of the truth.
And that had always been my downfall.
Tucker had always called me the golden boy of the family, but he had no idea how hard I worked for what I had. Everything had come to him so easily. Talent, skill, friends, charm. His joy was infectious. He laughed easily and loved hard.
