Page 30 of Casual Felonies (Wildlings #1)

RAMI

The elevator doors open and we tumble out into the wide foyer. Maya and the cousins head straight for the beer fridge, but I hold Truett back.

“How much longer do we need to keep this polymer on True’s hand?” I ask, kissing his neck as they distribute Shiners among themselves.

Maya holds up a beer, and Truett and I shake our heads. She sees how close we’re standing next to each other, and her mouth quirks into a sharp grin. She twists off the cap before taking a few glugs.

“Actually, you should be able to crack it off now. Want me to take care of that for you?”

I grab Truett’s hand and start dragging him back toward my room. “No worries. I think we can figure it out.”

Whistles and taunts follow us down the hallway and are cut off when I shut the door, the soundproofing a perk of living in a high-end building. I turn to True.

“Are you still as fucking horny as I am?”

He lets out a long, dramatic breath, then holds up his Han Solo hand. “I’m pretty sure there’s something in here that makes me want to fuck you into the mattress.”

I pout. “But I just killed a bunch of people.”

“And?”

“Maybe I want to be the one pounding your ass into the mattress,” I say, quite reasonably.

True’s grin spreads wide across his face. “Flip fucking for the win, bay-bee.”

I lean in to kiss him, and he pulls away.

“What’s happening?” I ask, desperate to get this show on the road.

“I threw up in the field. I need something more than the mint your cousin gave me.” He then sniffs his armpit and wrinkles his nose. “And probably take a shower.”

Frustrated, but now a little grossed out, I drag him into the bathroom, shoving my mouthwash into his hands.

“Double rinse,” I demand.

“I kind of like this bossy version of you,” he says before swishing the mouthwash. He rinses his mouth out with water, then mouthwash, then water again.

The second he screws the cap back on, we go after each other like animals, teeth and lips clashing as we kiss and hump against each other. Truett throws his arms around me, squeezing me tight as he shoves his tongue into my mouth, and we fall against the bathroom door, ravenous.

A cracking sound startles us, and Truett pulls his hand away. Most of the polymer has cracked off from the force of being knocked against the door, and he’s easily able to remove what’s left.

His eyes go wide as he forms a fist and then straightens out his fingers. Remembering Maya’s joke, I examine the back of his hand. All of his tattoos seem to be in order.

“How does your hand feel?”

“Better than it has in a very long time,” he says, still clenching and releasing his fist. “It’s usually a little sore, especially after a day of using the trimmer.”

I’m impressed, and I definitely have questions, but…priorities.

“We’ll explore what this means later, but right now, I need your skin,” I say, pulling at his T-shirt.

It’s all well and good to rip each other’s clothes off, but far more efficient for us to handle our own business, so we get down to it. We’re naked seconds later, then stepping under the hot water.

“Fuck, True. Your body is unreal,” I say, running my hands over his well-defined, thick muscles.

He’s kissing me, nipping at my jaw. “I could say the same thing.”

We make out and rut against each other as the steam builds around us. My orgasm is right there, and I grunt against his lips, “I’ve got more than one in me.”

“Me too.”

We groan, bucking and sucking face until the heat blooms between us. My orgasm is fast and harsh enough to make my balls ache, but I am nowhere near done with this man.

Thankfully, though, it takes the edge off the desperation, and we go back to making out with each other under multiple showerheads.

“Let’s get cleaned off and move this to the bed,” he says after several more minutes, his voice wrecked.

“Agreed.”

I soap up while he washes his hair, then we switch. There will be other days, other showers where we can be romantic and take our time, but that’s not what this night is about. My cock is already rock hard again and my nuts are tight against my body. He’s in the same situation.

We step out of the shower, barely toweling off before racing out of the bathroom.

True takes in my room, which is large and full of fun details, like my collection of boy band memorabilia, the photographs of the cousins at Pride festivals all over the world, and my collection of aesthetically pleasing, yet abandoned hobbies.

Truett wanders, still gloriously naked, to my privacy window. Looking out over the city, he lets out a low whistle.

“Nice view.”

“I agree,” I say, my eyes hungrily taking in the fat outline of his cock.

He chuckles, then falls backward onto my huge bed, practically swallowed by the thick downy duvet. Unbidden, I have flashes of him picking me up and walking me over the threshold into our house.

“This bed is fucking amazing,” he says, drawing me right back to him. Putting his hands behind his head, his eyes track me like a predator. “How do you want me? Face-to-face? On my hands and knees.”

Yes, I think. Yes, to all of it. But for now…

“I want to see your face,” I admit, suddenly nervous.

“Excellent.”

Unhurried, he sets his feet flat against the mattress, letting his thighs fall apart. I gulp at how his piercing makes his hole look so fucking inviting.

“Where’s your fancy lube?” he asks, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

Grinning, I trail my fingers along his shin, across his knee, and up his thigh as I reach into my bedside table drawer.

I slip the recovery lube from the drawer, then add some to my fingertips.

Leaning in, I kiss him as I snake my fingers under his heavy nut sack, flicking at the guiche before pushing one finger inside him and then another.

Slowly stretching him, teasing his piercing, making it last long enough to give him a taste of his own medicine.

After he’s relaxed with just a hint of desperation in those whisky eyes, I reposition myself, nudging his hole with my cock, pressing in the tip.

The heat of his body is exquisite.

“Just go slow,” he says between kisses. “I don’t do this very often, and you’re definitely bigger than any guy I’ve ever been with.”

“Of course, True,” I murmur, carefully sliding into him.

Fuck. So tight.

Panting from the stretch, his eyes roll back.

“Still think I’m small?”

Truett ignores my teasing, pulling me in for a kiss as I take my time, slowly pushing inside him until I bottom out. He clenches hard, and it’s my turn to roll my eyes back.

“You’re stretching me so good, sweetheart,” True says, his voice rough, hot against my lips. “Now fuck me like a good boy.”

As much as I love being inside him, having him boss me in this position sends a shiver of want down my spine. I take a moment to breathe, then give a test thrust.

He winces, and I stall out.

“No, it’s okay. Keep going,” he says between clenched teeth.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You know as much as anyone how fun it is to mix the pain and the pleasure,” he says, opening one of his eyes to glare at me.

I add a bit more lube, and he loosens around me. I thrust again, and his pained grimace melts into a pleasured moan.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he says, shifting and tilting his hips. I start a steady pace, and he grabs my ass, pushing me deeper as he lifts his hips, meeting me thrust for thrust.

Collapsing onto his chest, I kiss him, and he kisses me back. With one hand still on my ass, he wraps his free arm around my back, molding us together, our bodies twin rolling tides.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he says the next time we take a breath. He’s looking into my eyes like I’m someone special, and I giggle.

“Something funny?” True asks, tilting his hips.

I grunt, thrusting harder. “You make me more nervous than killing a person.”

The vibration of his laughter makes my eyes roll back in my head.

“Even after I lost my lunch?”

“Two totally different things,” I say, breathless as I kiss him, pump into him, loving how he still surrounds me. “You get to be whoever you are out there, but in here, you take care of me.”

He runs his fingers over my eyebrows. “I like taking care of you.”

There’s so much more to say, to talk about, but in this moment, I feel cherished, protected. And I know I’m not in this alone.

I angle my hips, just a little, and his eyes glaze.

“Close,” he says so, so softly.

I thrust again, pinning his cock between us. He stiffens, arching, gripping me tight. Warmth once again blooms between us.

“You’re so beautiful,” he repeats, drunk on sex hormones. “Never felt this way about someone before.”

And that’s that. More than the tight clutch of Truett’s body or the unrelenting grip of his arms, it’s his confession that sets my body on fire. I start to jackrabbit, my orgasm just under the surface, powerful. I cry out as the ecstasy races up and through my body.

Truett wraps his legs around my waist, and I’m gone. I’m done for. I come into that tight space, enveloped, hoping beyond hope that this means something.

Later that night, when he’s fucking me from behind, he kisses a line across my shoulders, whispering, “What have you done to me?”

Here, in my bed, with his arms around my chest and belly, I have no answer for him. But whatever I’m doing to True, he’s doing just as much to me. And maybe this is just the violence talking. Maybe this is what trauma looks like on me, but down deep in my gut, I know it’s not true.

This is something.

And I wanna hold on to it for as long as I can.