Page 22 of Enemies with Benefits (Finding the Right Brother #1)

My decision was made as I snapped my limbs around to make sure he didn't find an easy grip on me that I wouldn't be able to break.

Of course, that meant the next instant I felt a fist slam into my face, and I grunted, the vision of his angry face swimming in front of me.

I didn't let that stop me, however, and I held tight, wiggling my leg under him and shoving my knee into his side.

I didn't know if he had been expecting a shove instead, or maybe for me to wrap my leg around him, but he gave a grunt of surprise and recoiled from the blow.

That was all I needed to give him another shove and get him off balance, and I went with him, trying to get a better hold.

Of course, he took the opportunity to drive his fist into my gut, which was already tight and kept me from losing my breath again.

However, it still hurt like a son of a bitch as I retaliated by shoving my forearm into his neck and pressing down, hoping the lack of oxygen might convince him to stop jabbing at my exposed side.

I ended up straddling his waist as we continued to grapple.

There was precisely zero grace, skill, or thought in our actions, just a brutal fight to beat the other.

It was like the past years hadn't passed at all, with the two of us quickly devolving into grunting neanderthals whose only thoughts were how to best the other in the most brutal fashion imaginable.

From an outside perspective, I was sure we looked like a weird pair of Siamese twins as our bodies meshed, pushed, and wriggled against each other.

It certainly had the effect of making sure I was focused on what was happening in the moment rather than anything else.

Bruising flesh mashed against flesh, blood leaked from broken lips and bashed noses, and sweat coated our skin as we fought and squirmed.

The only sounds were grunts, groans, and the occasional muttered curse out of frustration or pain.

At one point, he moved so I was partially between his legs, one of his legs wrapped around my back while the other was wrapped around one of my legs.

That just left our hands and arms, resulting in an even more hectic mess as we pushed and ground against each other for the slightest advantage.

My only thought was the desire to get the better of him and not let him win another goddamn fight.

Until a sudden push from his hips in an attempt to buck me off sent an unexpected jolt through my middle and made my next blow go wide rather than connect with his jaw, which would have been my attempt to end the fight in one blow.

Where my mind had been locked onto the fight and my focus on winning, now I became aware of facts my mind had missed or just ignored.

First, which was obvious when he ground against me for leverage, was the fact that I was hard enough that if we weren't thrashing around, it would have hurt.

That would have been confusing and irritating on its own, considering the person my dick was getting interested in.

More interesting was the fact that Jace was just as hard.

The third interesting fact was that despite my middle school attempts at riling him up and calling him peanut, and pencil dick, that was clearly not the case.

Finally, I had to believe that Jace had no idea what was going on because the man, who was horrified at the mere mention of gayness around him, continued to grind against me.

The result was that now, instead of just pain and determination, I was experiencing constant zings and jolts of pleasure that were distracting me from the fight, and in the most fucked up new development, feeding into it as well.

For a few moments, I was left hanging in a state of disbelief and indecision, only keeping him at bay because I’d had an advantage before my attention had been torn away.

All his squirming and pushing against me surely had to be something he realized was.

..causing both our predicaments. Yet he continued doing it, apparently unaware of what was going on.

That was until he nearly succeeded in bucking me off, which would have sent me sprawling and left me vulnerable, and I was forced to snap back into the moment and fight him off again.

The result was me pushing my body forward, grinding into him, and making me grit my teeth as the sudden pleasure mingled strangely with the surge of anger and frustration.

At the same time, I felt my stomach twist as I saw his eyes widen, he grunted, and his grip loosened briefly.

I had a moment of clarity, knowing that after this, I was seriously going to wonder what had come over me.

Then it was gone as the combination of anger and twisting pleasure inside brought forth an insane yet irresistible idea.

He was completely off-guard, and before I could question just how good an idea it was, I gripped his momentarily slack arms and pushed my hips down.

His eyes widened even further, and I felt my lips pull up in a smirk when I felt his body go taut, and a surprised noise of pleasure left his lips.

Even better, when I repeated the motion, his hips twitched, as if unable to decide whether he wanted to jerk away or push up into me.

I knew exactly what I wanted to do, consequences be damned, and I did it again.

This time, the pleasure was even clearer, and I watched his eyes flutter for half a second before he tried to grab me again.

"Fucking…" he hissed, trying to reach up and grab my face.

"I guess you could," I grunted as I ground against him again. "Call it a form of that if you...want."

He panted, growling without words as he struggled to push against me.

The problem was, every time he did, I just used my lower body to grind our groins together again, making him utter strange and damn near pitiful noises.

At the same time, when he tried to use his lower body to push me off, it involved him grinding back against me, and also meant I was able to get a better grip on his upper body.

He thrashed against me, trying to fling his elbow into me but missing as I leaned past it to grip his shoulders and grind down against him again.

I thought I had the upper hand until I felt his grip tighten, and suddenly I was on my back, which was the precise moment I expected to feel his fist go for my face again, but with far more brutality and intent than before.

Rather than the radiating pain of a fist driving into my face, I was met with the sudden weight of him atop me, grinding against me with even more intensity and focus than I had used on him.

Once I might have said that someone so serious and suffering from a debilitating lack of humor and spontaneity would have been incapable of surprising me, but that was apparently not the case.

I could only lie there and react to the sudden change with the same rigid shock that he had done earlier when I’d done the very same thing.

It lasted right up until the dirty, underhanded bastard decided to use that moment to backhand me.

The shock and outrage at the disrespectful gesture were far more jarring than the pain.

Even then, he never stopped his movements, and despite everything, I could still feel the pleasure of his rutting radiating through me.

Rage and a lust I couldn't remember feeling quite as strongly since I was a teenager continued to race through me, a cocktail of emotions that drove me as crazy as it spurred me into action.

I wasn't going to tolerate the disrespectful cheap shot, and I lashed out, catching him in the side with my fist and taking particular satisfaction in watching his face tighten with pain and feel his movement shudder to a stop.

With a hiss, I pushed him to the side, using my advantage to take hold of him and slam him as hard as I could onto his back.

The ring's floor was made to absorb impact, so I wasn't worried about serious injury, but it was hard enough that I watched his chest swell as he gasped for breath.

I was never one to miss an opportunity, and was always willing to push my luck whenever I had the chance, and this was no different.

With him stunned, I undid the tie to his loose pants and shoved them and his underwear down.

Clearly, the man had more ass than I’d noticed because his clothes got stuck halfway, but it was more than enough room for me to get my hand in.

Once more, he went completely rigid, admittedly not as rigid as the dick I wrapped my hand around, but he didn't immediately lash out either. I was more than a little smug at his frozen reaction and gave him a stroke, shoving against the band of his underwear where it had gotten stuck. As riled up as I was, I didn’t begrudge having to admit that he’d definitely had a good roll of the genetic dice.

The size was impressive to the point of being slightly intimidating, without making someone question their life choices at the thought of trying to do anything with it.

Snorting at his confused expression, I used my other hand to undo my shorts, having had more than enough practice, it took only a second to pull out my dick.

It would have required more brainpower than I currently possessed to figure out which of us was leaking the most, so I didn't bother.

Instead, I wrapped my hand around our cocks and held them together, letting our mess slick things up a bit before rutting forward.