Page 56 of Bruised

“I know,” I gasp. “I want your hands on me. Always.”

“You want my cock in you, too.”

“Yes,” I hiss. “And your mouth on me.”

Mason growls and kisses me, all while fucking into me hard, so hard little hiccups tear from my throat as he grinds his hips against mine, reaching so deep inside me it almost hurts.

“I’m going to come,” he growls. “Want me to fill your ass again?”

“Yeah,” I gasp. “Please.”

He grunts as he slams into me once, twice, and fills me up for the second time that night. He collapses onto me and kisses me deeply, then he travels down my body and lifts my legs up high, exposing my hole. I feel his cum trickle out of me.

“Touch yourself, puppy,” he orders. “Make yourself come while I eat this sweet hole.”

“Shit,” I whimper, and I do as he tells me, wrapping shaking fingers around my cock and stroking myself while he licks into my leaking hole, sucking out his own cum.

With his tongue buried in my ass, I shoot all over my stomach, biting so hard into my knuckles I swear I taste blood.

Mason kisses me again. “There you go, sweet puppy. Felt good?”

I nod dreamily. “So good.”

“Now let’s clean you up and put your clothes back on. We’re damn lucky Oliver sleeps like the dead.”

He’s right. I hope Oliver didn’t stir awake and hear us this time. We weren’t exactly being subtle: the door slamming when I stepped inside Mason’s room, then our loud moans when he first slid into me without a condom.

We need to be more careful, but for now, it seems like a lesser problem, made smaller by Mason’s careful hands as he wipes me down with paper towels and helps me into my clothes. Before I go, he pulls me into another kiss, as enthusiastic and demanding as all the previous ones.

“Good night, puppy. Sweet dreams.”

“Good night.”

21. MARK HIM

I took things too far last night. Said too much.

“I wish you could sleep here.”

Did reckless things.

“Take it off. Please come inside me.”

I fucked Lane without a condom when I had no business doing such a thing. I put him in danger. He might’ve gotten tested, but I haven’t since before I got locked up.

I had a couple of sexual escapades in prison, and it’s not like we had access to condoms. I was reckless with the partners I had, but it’s not like I cared about them like I care about Lane. I planned to get tested when I got out of prison, but it slipped my mind in favor of everything else that’s been fighting for my attention.

Lane. Mostly Lane.

I curse myself for being so stupid. Lane’s a good person, a sweet angel, and I’m… I’m a reckless jackass who’s barely worthy of touching him, let alone fucking him without protection.

I’m always in control, but Lane makes me feel as reckless and unhinged as I was when I… when I did the shit that laid waste to my entire fucking life.

I need to get a hold of myself, get back in control, but it’s easier said than done.

Lane’s become more to me than I expected he would. I just wanted to have some fun; I just wanted to let my dick take the lead and point me like a compass toward what I wanted. But another part of me—the beating, aching, annoying thing in my chest—is taking the lead, and I don’t know how to feel about that. It’s strange, to say the least. Terrifying is another word for it.

At the same time, it feels so good I don’t know if I can stay away.