Page 35

I could relate.

Instead of switching off, though, I went in the opposite direction. I became a fire whirl that destroyed everything in my path.

“You want an ice pack for those?” I nodded at his face and the new bruises that were slowly forming.

He shook his head. “No, I’m fine.” He held out his hand. I laid the wet cloth on his palm, and he raised it to my face.

Surprised, I let him wash my aching jaw like I’d done for him. I shifted closer to him, settling between his open knees. The silence grew heavy, but neither of us said anything as he cleaned my sore face. When he was done, he passed the cloth back to me, and I threw it in the basin.

“Do you want to shower?” I muttered, an awkwardness settling in me. I should take him back to his room like Dad had ordered, but I couldn’t. Something compelled me to take care of him, even if it was only for this afternoon. We weren’t dirty, but sweat stuck to my skin from the fight with that loser.

“Now?” He frowned at me.

I shrugged.

“With you?”

Shame flooded me and I went to step back, but he grasped my wrist, tugging me forward so hard that our cocks bumped against one another. I rocked my hips, and he let out a small, delightful groan that had some of my confidence returning.

I gripped his thighs and hauled him closer, giving me more room to shove open his legs and massage my cock against his. “You like that?”

He moaned and grabbed my shoulders tightly, dropping his head until his temple touched mine. “Yeah. It’s good. But what about Uncle Bowie?”

I grunted. “He’s in a bad mood. When he gets that way, he goes to his office and drinks until he can’t walk straight and then sleeps it off. We’re fine.”

“If you’re sure. I don’t want you to get into trouble.” Even as he spoke, he tilted his chin and turned his head so his mouth was close to mine, and I did the only reasonable thing. I kissed him. The tang of blood was on his lips—did he bite the inside of his mouth when he was punched?—but the flavor wasn’t a turn off. If anything, there was something hot about knowing we were both bruised and bloodied from fighting, and this time it wasn’t with each other.

The need between us was electrifying, lighting up my nerves and boiling my blood. My cock throbbed, already well on the way to being hard and ready for action, but it didn’t hurt that I’d been teetering on the edge of horny since we’d gotten into the McLaren and Saint sat on my lap.

“Let me help you wash off,” I whispered against his mouth, not quite sure where my head was at, other than swimming. I guided him to stand, then slowly began to remove his clothing. The collar went first, and he tensed, eyes going wide as I unbuckled it and set it on the stone counter. Then his sweater and pants came off, leaving him naked, except for his socks.

I removed my clothing next, aware of his intense gaze as I slid my sweater up over my head and kicked away my pants. Last, I ditched my underwear and my cock bounced free. His gaze went straight to my hard-on and he licked his tongue along his lips, hunger flashing across his face. He wanted me, and even though we’d despised each other for so long and he’d gone through hell over the last few days, he needed me.

“Please, take your socks off and join me in the shower. You don’t have to do it. This is up to you.” I didn’t know why I’d given him the choice, but after the beating he’d taken today from someone who wasn’t me or Dad, a part of me was curious. Did he want to be here? It had only been a couple of days, and the thought of him walking away made my stomach churn.

I turned and strode past the thick wall that blocked the shower from the rest of the room. Adjusting the water until it was an acceptable temperature, I waited with anticipation, and he didn’t take long before he stepped around the wall to join me.

Smirking, I backed up to give him room under the water, and he offered me a nervous smile. The bruises on his cheek and jaw were still a deep purple, and new ones had begun to show on his pale skin. I suspected we would match by tomorrow morning.

“Do you want to fuck me?” he asked, gaze dropping submissively. His quiet question barely made it past his lips.

Something lurched inside me. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but I didn’t like it. As much as I enjoyed how easily he submitted to me—to us—I also felt guilt that we were no better than the man who’d punched him today. We were getting revenge for what his parents did to us, and we were taking it out on him, too, just in different ways. I loved winning, especially against him, but this suddenly felt like an unfair match. If I won, I wanted it to be because I was better and not because he was at a disadvantage.

His cock was almost as hard as mine and it gleamed from the water that slid down his body. The sight captivated me, and without overthinking what I was doing, I went to my knees.

He froze, staring at me with wide eyes. “What. . . ?”

I grunted in answer. “Don’t fucking choke me.” I wasn’t going to say more than that because I had no fucking idea what I was up to. There was no rhyme or reason as to why my brain thought let’s give him a blowjob, but here I was, wrapping my hand around the base of his boner and leaning in to suck on the head. What did it matter? He’d fucked me, even if I hadn’t felt the heat of his cock because of the toy. Sucking him off would be no worse.

He tasted salty, and the tanginess of his precum was heavy on my tongue as I swiped it over his slit. I shuffled closer and took him in deeper, uncertainty driving my actions. I had no fucking clue how to give a blowjob, but I knew what I liked, and I supposed that was a starting point. Stroking a finger down the underside of his hard-on, I sucked the head gently at first, getting used to the strange new flavor.

His skin was soft and veiny, but he was also hard as a baseball bat and thick in my mouth as I took more of him in. He moaned and grabbed my short hair, grappling to grasp as much as he could as he rocked forward. It wasn’t difficult to see he was fighting with himself. He wanted to fuck into me, but he held back, which both annoyed me and made me happy. I didn’t want to admit a weakness, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to take any rutting, either, since this was so fucking new to me.

My sucking grew harder, and he groaned, the rocking of his hips becoming more needy. His fingernails bit into my scalp, and the added pain was a delicious mixture with the desire that rampaged through me. I reached down to grab my cock and jerk it roughly. Pleasure built up at the base of my spine, and as much as I hated the idea, I realized I kind of liked sucking cock—almost as much as I’d loved getting fucked.

He shivered and began thrusting, and even if I wanted him to stop, I wasn’t going to tell him. Pride had me loosening my jaw and taking the pounding he gave my mouth. He hit the back of my throat, and I gagged.

“Sorry,” he murmured but continued to fuck forward. It didn’t take him long to reach his peak, and when he did, he shoved in as far as he could, balls deep and boner halfway down my throat.