Page 72 of Endless Anger (Monsters Within #1)
“No, no. I…” He inhales, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again on his exhale. “If you’re sure you want to do this, I need to see you. You’re not the only one who could use a reminder that you’re alive, pup.”
Nodding, I slowly grind against him, taking his hands and putting them farther back on my hips, where the skin is mostly unblemished.
“But if you wince even a fucking little, we’re done here,” he tells me, leaning to seal our lips together.
The first touch of his tongue flicking inside my mouth has me moaning, tilting my head to grant him better access. His hold on my hips starts to mobilize, guiding me over his cock the way he did weeks ago in his dorm room.
Electricity jolts through me as my clit rubs against him, the friction of my underwear and shorts causing my pulse to skyrocket. I grow wetter by the second, each thrust timed with his kisses, as if that’s what’s driving my movement rather than utter need.
Bringing my fingers to his chest, I explore the expanse of smooth skin and taut muscle. His nose ring bumps me at one point, a slight cold bite as he jerks into my touch as if yearning for more .
“Shit,” he breathes, pulling away. “I want to put my dick in you so bad.”
Pushing up on my knees, I reach between us and tug my clothes to the side. My pussy spreads over his shaft, leaving a trail of glistening arousal, making the motion smoother and smoother.
“Do it,” I whisper, leaning so he’s forced onto his back, his hands falling to the outsides of my thighs, fingers indenting my flesh.
One glide forward and a slight shift up, and when I go an inch backward, his tip slips in.
Just for a second, just barely enough for the two of us to simultaneously gasp.
“Are you going to hate me for this tomorrow?”
Narrowing my eyes, I get to my feet above him and shake out of my clothes before resituating myself on top of his cock again. Then I lean over to the nightstand and turn off the bedside lamp, enshrouding us in near darkness, save for a streak of moonlight spilling in from between the curtains.
He’s a silhouette now, and there’s something about not being able to fully see each other that adds a layer of tension to this. Truly relying on the other senses, when seeing is not the sole cause of belief.
Living is an amalgamation of those senses. His clean, cotton scent, the salty taste of his damp skin as I drag my tongue up his throat. The strangled noise he makes when I fist his cock in my hand, thumbing it inside me without preamble.
Fuck, it burns, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m still getting used to having his girth in me or because I’m in worse shape than I realized, but I don’t let that stop me. Placing my palms on his chest, I lower myself onto him slowly, gritting my teeth.
I need this. It doesn’t matter how it feels, only that we’re connected and?—
Asher reaches between my legs, playing with my clit, and squeezes my thigh. “Slow, baby. Slow.”
Something pinches in my chest at his calm command; I obey, even though that defiant piece of me doesn’t really want to, working him in as arousal floods through me.
His thumb draws lazy circles over my clit, and each inch becomes easier to manage until he’s fully seated within, his pelvis soaked from my juices.
I can feel them sticking to us when I begin to move, riding the fullness, the rightness of us being connected like this. My stomach tenses, my nails clawing at his skin, desperate for more.
We settle into a rhythm that has both of us panting, our breaths disappearing into each other’s mouths as I lean down to kiss him. He grips my ass in both hands, holding me upright while he drives into me from below, making me dizzy with the sudden brutality.
I bury my face in his neck, pressing my open mouth to his skin and biting down. He hisses, fucking me harder, one of his hands tangling in my hair. I half expect him to pull me away, but instead he seems to hold me in place.
“That’s it, baby,” he croons in my ear. “Mark me when you come on my dick. Make me feel it all. Make me yours.”
Spurred on by his filthy words, I slide my fingers to his throat, increasing the pressure of my bite until he’s groaning, massaging my clit faster to push me closer toward the edge.
The taste of copper sprinkles on my tongue, and I sit up, reveling in the red imprint of my teeth and the light splash of blood there.
A shot of renewed arousal pulses within me, making my stomach somersault. I remove his hands from my body, pinning them on the mattress by his head, and fuck him back, rotating my hips so each stroke of his cock against my inner muscles makes us cry out.
“Christ, you feel fucking incredible,” Asher moans, his forearms flexing under my grip. His eyes hood, growing heavy with lust and impending release, and it fills me with a sense of triumph.
“I really like fucking you,” I tell him in a low, sultry voice. At least I hope that’s what it sounds like.
“Keep going then, pup,” he replies, the tendons in his neck straining. My bitemark blooms red and vicious, and I’m tempted to do it again. Maybe make the other side match .
I’ve never known what possessiveness really felt like until this very moment. Asher’s always sort of made himself available to me, outside the three years we spent apart. So there was never a need to worry.
Now though, fear drives me to unnavigated territory. It’s a need unlike anything I’ve ever known, this instinctive desire to make him mine permanently. Forever.
Like I could crack open his chest and sew myself inside, if that were possible.
Asher’s panting grows more labored, and sweat pours down his face as I rock back and forth, the undulation of my hips making him hit that special spot inside me. My vision is blurring, pleasure teasing the corners and crawling its way up my spine, but I don’t stop.
“Lucy,” he warns, nostrils flaring. “Fuck. Lucy, shit . Can…can I please come?”
Him asking for permission makes me move faster.
“You need it bad, huh?”
“So bad. I’m so fucking close. Please , baby.”
I huff, nodding. “Do it, pretty boy. Come for me.”
Eyes widening when I don’t make a move to climb off him, he lets out a strangled noise. “I’m not wearing anything?—”
“ Inside me. Fill me up, please.”
His cock swells, but still he hesitates. His next word is barely more than a whimper, and shocks of arousal spin webs through my veins. “ Lucy .”
“ Please ,” I whine, so close myself that I don’t want to stop. I can’t stop. “Please, just this once. I’ll take a Plan B or something after, but I need this. I need you—need to feel your cum flood my pussy.”
“Jesus fucking Christ ,” he groans, his hips bucking as he unravels at the tail end of my plea. Hot, thick spurts of his cum warm my inner muscles, and the soft cry he releases shoves me off the cliff into oblivion.
I ride him through both of our orgasms, my pussy spasming around his cock until it’s so drained that he leaks out of me, pooling between us.
Only the sound of our breathing dominates the air for several minutes as we come down from the high of climax. I collapse on top of him, fatigue finally catching up with me, and he lets me lie like that for a while, stroking my back in slow motion.
“Trouble,” he says after a while, voice low. “That’s what I should’ve nicknamed you when we were kids. You’re a terrible influence.”
I peek up at him through my lashes, not wanting to fully open my eyes. “You love it though.”
He taps my nose with his index finger. “I love you . I’m not sure what I would have done if I’d brought your corpse out of that cave.”
“Probably would’ve burned the school down.”
Silence. Then, “Did I ever apologize for the fire at Lethe’s?”
I snort. “You’ve apologized, like, once in your whole life, Asher.”
“Right. Well… I’m not sorry for smoking you out of that trashy place, but I am sorry for the shit it caused after. If I’d known they were going to blame you, I?—”
“Still would’ve done it, because you’re a little bit of a lunatic when you’re angry,” I finish for him.
He doesn’t respond, so I sit up, pressing my palm to his cheek.
“I love you,” I say softly, tracing the outline of his mouth with my thumb. “I know you’d never do anything to actually hurt me. Your entire life has pretty much been dedicated to the exact opposite actually.”
“Bodyguard since birth,” he jokes, although there’s still some tension in his words. Between us. All the hurt and anger, the stupidity and the danger—I guess that doesn’t just magically disappear when you’re in love.
Trust and healing are still things you have to work at, especially when you’ve been burned before.
But there’s no one in the world I’d rather work through the bullshit with than him.
Asher Blake Anderson.
The angry boy who broke my heart when we were younger.
And the one who put it back together again.