Page 37 of Full Split (Forbidden Goals #8)

After a short pause, Niles moves slowly, numbly, bending down to slide his hotel key card under the door to the room he was sharing with Weston. A gesture of respecting his space that I can appreciate, even though I want to go in there and make him face me.

Instead, I stare at the door, willing it to open.

Niles picks up the birthday cake and pushes his bags into my room with his foot, disappearing inside.

I stand outside Weston’s door for a while longer, leaning my forehead against the cool surface.

“I know you’re in there, West. I hope you can hear me, and that you’re listening.

I hope you’ll understand someday, because I love you more than life itself.

And I love him, too. I don’t know how to make both of these things work in a way that doesn’t hurt you.

But I’d like to try, if you’ll let me. We need to talk. ”

When I finally back away and step into my room, I notice the birthday cake in the trash. Niles is in bed with the covers pulled up over his head and won’t answer me when I try to suggest ordering dinner.

The next morning is podium training. For the first time ever, I can’t be there. Only the athletes, trainers, coaches, and officials are allowed inside. No parents or non-USAG Team USA coaches.

Niles leaves silently this morning, eyes bloodshot and looking exhausted despite going to bed before dinnertime last night. I try to remind him to eat something, but he doesn’t respond.

I stand by the door waiting to watch Weston leave, but he must have gone early to avoid us.

I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more useless.

Since I’m not able to focus on work, I pace, take fitful naps, and go for a run around the city. I stop at a local market close to the hotel and pick up a few things so there’s something healthy to eat in the room when Niles gets back.

The day creeps by excessively slowly. When Niles walks through the door, he looks wrecked. His jaw is tight, shoulders hunched, and his eyes are lifeless. He looks like he’s given up.

He doesn’t want to talk. All he tells me is that his event combos are all likely to be downgraded. It doesn’t seem like he did very well today.

He drags himself into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. The shower turns on.

While he’s showering, I try to check on Weston. I knock, but there’s no answer. I consider trying to be sneaky and ordering room service for him, then rushing the door when he opens it, but I can see on the app that he already ordered dinner.

At least he’s eating.

I order food for us, too. It’s waiting when Niles comes out of the bathroom, skin pink from the hot water, hair wet. A hotel robe hangs loose around his frame.

We eat mostly in silence. He doesn’t eat as much as normal after a high-activity day, but he eats enough. I notice him rolling his neck and shoulders.

“Anything I can do to help? Want a massage?”

He gives me the faintest smirk with an edge of bitterness that scares me.

Then, without a word, he stands and drops his robe.

He crosses the room bare, a reckless gleam in his eye, and straddles me where I’m sitting in the wingback chair.

All I can do is stay statue-still and try not to breathe wrong because I’m a little afraid of him right now.

It’s reminiscent of how he acted when he first started pushing this thing between us. Aggressive, and a little dangerous.

His body is warm, skin still slightly damp. His mouth brushes my ear.

“You want to help me?” he murmurs.

I can barely breathe.

“You can help by distracting me. Make me feel something other than… this. Make me feel anything.”

He doesn’t say the words, but something in his tone sounds like, “Remind me why I thought this was worth it.”

His fingers find my zipper. I don’t stop him when he pulls it down, too frozen to do or say anything.

He pulls my cock—hard, like it always is around him—from my underwear.

The pressure of him lining himself up snaps me out of it.

My hands spring up from where I’ve been white-knuckling the edges of the chair and grip his waist, keeping him from sinking down.

“You’re not ready,” I say, remembering the time he’d told me he needs prep before penetration. “It’ll hurt.”

His eyes fill with tears. “I want it to hurt. I need it to hurt.”

“No.” I shake my head firmly. “I’ve hurt you enough. I won’t do that.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” he says. “ I hurt me. My stupidity hurt me.”

“Stop it, Niles. You’re not stupid. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“We both did something very, very wrong. And now we’re being punished for it.”

My heart sinks. There’s a list as long as my arm why this relationship is wrong on paper, abhorrent, even, but I want to believe that it’s pure and right. That we were exactly what each other needed, even though the odds were stacked against us.

“Not that,” Niles says gloomily. “I don’t care what anyone says, this isn’t wrong to me. I’ve never felt anything so right.” He sniffs. “What we did wrong was not tell Weston from the beginning. Or at least as soon as you figured out this was real.”

I laugh despite my tears. It’s true, I was the hold out.

“I tried so hard not to want you. Not to love you. And now I’m afraid I might need you.”

“I need you right now,” he pleads.

“Not like this.”

He climbs off me, and I immediately start to follow, to assure him I’m not rejecting him. I just don’t want to hurt him. I refuse to damage him in any other way than I already have.

“Sit,” he says.

I pause first, furrowing my brow. But slowly, I sit.

He raises an eyebrow. “Good boy.”

He has that gleam in his eyes again, shining through the watery sheen of tears. He’s dangerous. Dangerous, perfect, and impossible.

Niles walks over to the bedside table, pumps some lube into his hand, and comes back. He directs me to strip, which I do from my seat because I’m not sure what will happen if I try to stand again.

He climbs back up in my lap and seizes my dick, pumping the lube over the crown and shaft.

Chancing some movement, I swipe a finger over the head, gathering some lube and a drop of pre-cum that his aggressive pumping squeezed out.

I reach between his legs and stroke his cock while he’s stroking me.

He sucks in a shaky breath, letting me get his body ready, but when I try to finger him, he stops me.

He hasn’t come yet, but obviously I’m not going to touch him in any way he doesn’t want me to.

“Let me have it just a little,” he rasps.

Just a little pain? I don’t know how I feel about that, but I can see there’s more to this. He looks away from me like he’s ashamed to be asking for this. I grip his chin and make him look me in the eye. I search the stormy ocean for any signs that I might not be doing the right thing.

“Don’t ever be ashamed to ask me for something. And don’t ever be ashamed to say no. My boundary is hurting you.”

He nods. “I know my body.”

“Okay,” I whisper, and pull him in for a kiss. I don’t know why, but letting him fuck me without kissing me first makes me feel sick to my stomach.

He slides down my cock without warning. He gasps, breathing in my shout. There’s almost no pause for either of us to adjust before he’s raising himself up again and slamming down. Holding onto the back of the chair, he uses his powerful thighs to work himself up and down.

I run my hands up his legs, drag my thumb across his cock. He throws his head back and arches his back, adding a roll to his hips that has me wanting to go into a rut like some kind of animal. Instead, I dig my fingers into the meat of his ass and thrust my hips up to meet him.

Fucking hell, I need to work on my stamina. He’s been on my dick for two minutes and I can feel my balls tightening. I bring a hand between us again and rub his cock. My fingers keep slipping off it with the frantic movement of his hips and how wet he is.

Niles leans forward and kisses me hard. I groan against his mouth, and he grins.

“Tell me how much you like it.”

“How much I like you fucking me like this? Too much, I’m barely holding on.”

Niles laughs and arches his back again. Every lean muscle on his lithe body flexes and contracts with his movements. My cock disappears inside his hot, tight body, that delicious little cock bouncing with his movements.

He’s physical fucking perfection.

“You know what I want to hear,” he says, starting to pant.

I moan the words he needs between gasps and grunts, trying to hold it together long enough for him to get what he needs from me. “I love you. I love your body. I love your dick. And your pussy. And your ass. And everything about you. I just love you.”

“I’m so close.”

“Come on my cock, baby.”

“So dirty,” he teases.

“I can be dirty.”

“Mmmhmmm, shut up and make me come.”

“You little brat,” I laugh.

I’ll fucking show you.

I lift him off my cock, stand, flip him around so he’s on his knees facing the back of the chair, and pull his hips so he’s ass out. Reaching down, I line myself up and dive back into his perfect wet hole. My thighs slap against his ass as I take him from behind.

He grunts, “Oh, fuck—” Then sucks in a breath when my thumb presses against his asshole.

“What about this little hole right here,” I say, still thrusting. “What should I put in here?”

Niles whimpers. “Fingers. Now. Please. I’m going to come.”

I look down and spit on his asshole, rubbing it around with my thumb.

Niles moans and I feel the fluttering start around my cock.

I press the tip of my thumb just inside his tight little ring.

Both holes contract around me at the same time, and Niles muffles his cries in the fabric of the chair as I work him through his orgasm.

It takes a superhuman level of stubbornness not to bust inside him when he’s clenching down around me like that, but I manage. It’s not until he’s slumped on the back of the chair expecting me to just finish that I pull out.

“Wha—”

Lifting Niles off the chair, I turn him so he’s sitting and cup the back of his head. I bring my cock to his mouth and press it against his lips.

“Suck, and don’t stop until every drop of your cum is cleaned off my cock.”

He parts his lips, eyes almost crossed, and I guide his head to take every inch of my cock that I feed him.

I keep my hand on his head, but don’t push down, just guide him towards the pace I want, knowing that he needs that bite of edge to get him out of his head even if he knows I’d never hurt him.

Niles’ tongue snakes out along the bottom of my shaft and I buck forward, hitting his gag reflex.

He coughs, and I pull back, but he chases my cock, shoving it into the back of his throat again.

He gags again, and it undoes me. My balls unload down the back of his throat, cursing and moaning at the way his throat contracts as he swallows me down.

When he comes up for air, I worry it was too much and drag him up to sit on my lap.

The dirty little fuck sits on my dick again, which is still twitching from aftershocks of the orgasm he sucked out of me.

He grinds down and leans forward to kiss me, pushing a mouthful of my own cum into my mouth with his tongue.

I think I come a little more.