Page 73 of Cannon
I ease Kingston’s cock from my mouth, then glide my tongue along it, not wanting to leave a drop behind. From out of nowhere, he clasps my biceps and hauls me to my feet before firmly grasping the back of my head and slamming his mouth down on mine. It’s passion. It’s yearning. And everything in between.
I can’t believe we’re here, together in this moment right now. All my thoughts and feelings about Kingston swirl around in my head until I’m in a daze. We were friends first. But I never saw this coming. Never once. I gasp for breath as he claims me because he’s fuckin’ stolen every bit of air in my lungs.
He wrenches his lips from mine, breathing heavily for several seconds as we stare at each other, the air between us snapping and popping with energy. Then he barks, “On the bed, Arch. You know how I like it."
Heat flashes through me. I do, indeed, and he knows it. I blink once, then I’m in motion, climbing onto the bed and staying on all fours. He’s right behind me—literally—smoothing his hands up my back, then leaning forward over me. He braces himself on one arm while he comes close, growling in my ear. “I’m not gonna fuck you, not tonight, but soon enough my cock will be buried so deep in your ass you’re gonna forget every other guy you’ve fucked around with. Understand me?”
The air punches from my lungs and every cell in my body goes up in flames. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”
He reaches around with one hand, making quick work of unfastening my pants, then tugs them and my briefs over my ass, bringing them down to where my knees meet the mattress.
His warm, wet tongue makes contact with my flesh, and I shudder as he licks a path directly up my spine. He tugs me back by the hips, and I’m breathless with not knowing what he’s going to do next. My dick is ready to cry out for mercy when he finally takes hold of it and begins a slow, firm stroking of my aching erection.
Fuuuck. I— God, my friend’s hand is on my dick, rough and strong and sure. It feels so goddamn good, I can’t help myself. I slowly start to piston myself into his palm. “Tighter,” I grit out from between clenched teeth.
Kingston automatically squeezes my dick harder as he slides his free hand up my back, grasping me at the base of my neck. Both things set me off. I fuck his hand like I’m a rutting animal.
“That’s it, Arch. Fuck it.”
And that’s when I feel something behind me. Kingston’s cock has hardened again, and it’s seated at the crease in my ass. He grinds his dick against me and fucked if I can’t imagine what it will be like to have him filling my ass. I can’t hold back, choking out, “Fucking hell. Your cock—” I pant, listening to him growl and curse his pleasure at my back.
I pump my hips faster, chasing the need to come. Desperate for it. We move together like a well-oiled machine, sweat slicking our skin. I can’t process everything that’s happened between us while we’re in the thick of it, but it feels so fucking good, I don’t want to stop.
“I’m gonna come all over your fine ass.” The sharp sting of Kingston’s hand coming down on my butt cheek is everything and too much all at once. My orgasm barrels toward me, and I can’t help but grunt as it rips down my spine and I unload, coating Kingston’s hand in my cum. He strokes me a few more times, and I want to collapse onto the mattress when he lets go of my dick, but he’s holding me firmly by the hips. “Don’t fuckin’ move,” he rasps as he slowly thrusts a few more times before jerking to a halt and blowing another load all over my ass.
Only a few moments later, we fall to the bed to catch our breath, me on my stomach, and him at my side. I turn my head toward him to find he’s already watching me.
“You okay?”
I nod, a smirk pulling at my lips. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
“Nah.” He shrugs. “But you never know.” He gestures with a slight bob of his head toward the bathroom. “Why don’t we take a quick shower and then get some sleep?”
I rake my teeth over my lower lip. “You’re right. We’ve got a big day tomorrow making sure Elliot’s good with getting back to her classes.”
“I think she’s more than fuckin’ ready.” Kingston leans over, kissing me squarely on the mouth. “Come on. Clean up time.” His lips twitch. “Someassholejizzed all over your backside.”
THIRTY-THREE
ELLIOT
When we wokeup this morning, Cannon had insisted on an early morning run—for him, not me—even though less than twenty-four hours ago, he’d been completely out of commission. I’ve got to hand it to him, living with epilepsy has had a huge effect on the way he lives his life, but he’s jumped right back into his usual routine, brushing off the episode like it was an insignificant event. At this point, maybe for him, it was. For me, though, I will remember every moment of seeing him like that for the rest of my life. It changes nothing. But it will stick with me.
And maybe that’s why he simply pushes past it. He’s been dealing with it for so long, he knows he can’t let it get him down. This guy has survived his childhood trauma, dealt with it how he saw fit, and come out the other side. I’m kinda in awe of him.
Back in my own bathroom, I brush my teeth and ponder whether the rest of the brotherhood has ever witnessed one of Cannon’s seizures. My bet is they haven’t, simply because I can’t imagine them being able to keep their ugly mouths shut about it if they had. I spit, rinse, and spit some more before putting my toothbrush back in the cup at the side of the sink.
Bridger sure as hell hadn’t kept quiet last night, and that’s justoneexample of a time when they hadn’t held back their true feelings. As I right myself, I blink, my mind suddenly racing as it flashes back through last night’s events. I stare at my reflection in the mirror for several seconds, trying to pinpoint what my brain is snagging on. It’s almost as if there’s something wiggling its way loose—maybe something I saw or heard is working its way to the surface.
I find it fascinating that the brain can do stuff like this—the way we can observe some minute detail that seems absolutely inconsequential at the time, and thenpoof. It has meaning beyond what we originally saw… or we see it clearly when we didn’t see it at all to begin with.
Shit, I feel like it’s something important.Ugh.
Unable to dredge up whatever it is, I glance down at my phone. I’ve only got forty-five minutes to get ready. With a frustrated sigh, I push myself into motion. Gotta get to class. Seems like I’ve been out forever even though it’s only been a week. I snatch up my phone and sit down on the toilet to pee, scrolling mindlessly, wondering if I’ll ever jar free whatever was bugging me.
After a few minutes, it hits me—Dane not wanting to hang out with those assholes last night, that’s what it was. The look on his face when Bridger started his homophobic rant—at the time, I thought it was embarrassment that a brother, or even an initiate, would behave that way, but that wasn’t it at all.
Holy shit. Is Danegay?
