Page 53 of Enemy

It makes my face flush with heat, but I’m as nervous as I am excited. Does he like what he sees? While I set the penetration boundary at the start, I never stopped him from fantasizing about it whether out loud or by text. In fact, I may have even encouraged it a few times.

It’s fucked up. I’m not rolling over for him, but I want him towantit. It turns me on, as if I’m some ultimate damn cock tease. Road fantasizing about topping excites me, and I’ve jerked off to it many times between our meetups.

And the few times he’s grabbed my ass so hard his fingertips brushed over my pucker were such a thrill I was too embarrassed to acknowledge it. And here we are again. I know he’s watching it, and when his thighs hit my buttocks, I know he’s imagining that he’s pushing himself in, until he’s fully embedded in my hole.

I arch and shiver in response to the tingling sensation those thoughts give me. Would he go at it fast, or would he be gentle, giving me a lot of time to adjust to the size of his shaft?

“Fuck, Clyde,” he rasps, tugging on my cock so fast a climax is already building inside me.

“So good,” I utter, rocking into his fist. I can’t even feel self-conscious about the way I’m clenching my ass at the tension he creates in me, because all I can think of is the sounds he makes as he’s jerking off.

The grunts.

The little moans.

The scent of him in the pillow I’m pressing my face to is just the cherry on top of this sex cake. I wanna gorge on it. I rock back, and when the knuckles of the hand with which he’s gripping his dick press to my tail bone, I come with a low moan of satisfaction.

I’m trembling, arching my ass to him, my mind blank as if someone has turned on their headlights in my skull. I’m still riding my high when Road rests his fist on my lower back, right above the crack and grabs my side with his free hand. What happens next can only be described as exhilarating. He’s slamming his hips against my ass now, fucking his hand fast and so hard my skin prickles from the slap of his balls against my buttocks.

This is as close as he can get to fucking my ass without doing it, and I sink into a headspace where all I want is to give him satisfaction.

My chest is so light and carefree after my own orgasm, and for once, none of that pent-up anxiety is there. I turn my face on the pillow and push back my hair so he can see me.

“Faster,” I whisper, sinking into the fantasy.

His eyes meet mine for the briefest moment, then roll back as he sinks over me, hand pressing down the front of my body.

A low grunt.

A few frantic thrusts.

And then, hot cum paints my back. It almost feels permanent, as if Road has marked me as his. Maybe I should get a splatter of ink tattooed on my lower back? Only I would know what it means.

I’m still barely catching my breath, filled with adrenaline and joy as he trails a finger through the sticky mess on my skin. Road looks like a beautiful beast now. Flushed, panting, the veins on his arms somehow more pronounced from the effort.

I fuckingwanthim.

I’m so comfortable with him, even as he grabs my hips, and his cock rests in my crack. I like every part of his body in ways I never imagined I could feel about another man. For someone who grew up around the club, men might be your blood, your friends, your brothers, but there’s always a wall behind which you need to protect yourself. It seemed the most natural thing to be guarded around men, because they could pose a threat if they recognize weakness.

With Road, I can be soft sometimes, without fearing to have it used against me.

He likes it. He kisses and strokes me because of it, and when I arch to his touch, he rolls to the bed so we can cuddle without getting the cum off my back.

It’s perfect.

I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, in case there’s no tomorrow.

“Stay off that road today, okay… babe?”

He sighs, but before I can open my eyes to check what expression he’s making, I hear a soft “okay,” and then I’m once again silenced by his tongue.

Chapter 22

Road

I’mfucked.Kindof.

No, definitely, I am. The consequences haven’t caught up with me yet, but they will, and when that happens I’ll be done with, and so will Clyde, and everyone I care about. Maybe I should have bitten the bullet and gone on one of those dating app hookups. What really is the likelihood of someone finding out who I am as long as I cover my tracks? And if they did somehow find out, maybe I’d no longer be welcome in the club, or even at Vulture Hollow, but my personal problems wouldn’t affect anyone else.