Page 27

CHAPTER 27

MARCUS

"Your cherry? "

Ashton flashes me a cheesy grin, putting his perfect, white teeth on display, and pumps his eyebrows.

"No. Seriously, wait a second, Ash."

"I like it when you call me that."

I can't help but smile. "Or Princess?"

Ashton narrows his eyes. "I'll never admit to it."

Laughing, I pull Ashton to a stop, halfway across the quad. The dorm is less than twenty yards away, but I need to talk about things with a clear head. It's fucking cold, but maybe that'll keep me from zoning out on the fact that Ashton said he wants me to fuck him. And while there was no hesitation on my mind when we started marching this way, I need to know if he hasn't done this before.

"You've never bottomed before?"

"No, I've never bottomed before," he confirms, then his voice gets a little softer. "I've also never topped before." He averts his eyes.

"So you're a…"

"Yes, Marcus. I'm a fucking virgin. Would you like to take a moment? Laugh it up, or whatever it is you need to get out of your system?"

"How is that possible?" Ashton James is probably the hottest man I've ever met. He's tall, beautiful, and confident. He acts like a fuck boy. I just sort of assumed he was getting laid on the regular based on his swagger alone.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I kind of have issues."

Not that he’s told me about them. That's another thing we need to talk about. What happened at the GSU fraternity? But that's a conversation for another day. Back to the issue at hand. "But you've done other stuff, obviously. Before me, I mean."

"I've gotten my dick sucked a lot. Like, a lot a lot."

See? That cockiness right there. That fucking smirk! He's got to be fucking with me.

"And you've sucked your fair share, too, I'd imagine." There's no possible way he hasn't had a lot of practice choking on cock to master deep throating like he has. I've never experienced anything like it.

Ashton's face reddens under the dim glow of the streetlamps, and I'm pretty sure my mouth drops open wide enough to catch all the flies.

"You're fucking with me."

"Nope. I was a selfish motherfucker before I met you. I took advantage of my status, let people kiss my feet and suck my dick and gave nothing back." He spits the words out like they taste bad, like he's disgusted by his own actions. "I used people, Marcus. The way all of those guys do. The way my dad does. I was no better than them. Worse, because people got hurt because of my selfishness."

" Was ," I say, emphasizing the tense of the word he used. "Whatever happened changed you."

"You changed me," he says, the sincerity in his voice tugging at my heartstrings. "I'd probably be just as much a piece of shit if I didn't find you here."

As we stand in the quad, staring at each other and trying to make sense of how much has changed in such a short period, snowflakes start to fall in small, breezy flurries. They catch on Ashton's top knot, both our hoodies, my nose.

"So, are we doing this?" Ashton finally says, breaking the silence.

"It's a stupid idea."

"Probably."

Are we still talking about sex? It almost feels like we're talking about more. I'm not sure I'm there yet, but I'm also not willing to walk away at this point.

"Our families hate each other. We hate each other?—”

Ashton’s response is immediate and firm. "I never hated you."

"I hated you," I admit.

Hated. Past tense. I'm not sure when it stopped, but somewhere along the way, it became something else entirely.

"You can take it out on me."

The tension between us is thick and heavy, filling the elevator with a noticeable humidity. Despite barely beginning to thaw from the cold walk home and standing in the snow for however long, I'm sweating. The anticipation is buzzing in my veins, warming me from the inside out. Neither of us speaks, or even breathes audibly, as we ascend to the top floor and walk to Ashton's door. He unlocks it, and we step inside, silently removing our shoes and jackets.

The first thing Ashton does is walk into his small kitchenette and open a drawer. He pulls out a folded sheet of paper and passes it to me.

"What's this?"

He waits for me to unfold the paper and see for myself. "I know we all get regular health checks, but that's my last results. I've had multiple negative tests since the last time I was with anyone else, but it's only been you since I transferred."

" Oh . Okay. Um, thanks. Mine was negative, too. I can pull it up on my phone for you," I say, unlocking my phone to find the portal where our health results are saved.

"No need. I trust you."

The words are heavy with meaning. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, like I've swallowed rocks and shook them up. He needs me to know that he trusts me, and he's asking me to do the same. But am I there yet?

Ashton steps into my space, backing me against the counter. His lips hover over the shell of my ear.

"I want you to fuck me raw. Take my virgin ass and fill it so good." He peppers the words over my neck, jaw, and mouth, kissing and licking the words from my skin once he's said them.

I curse as most of my primary brain function shorts out. Tilting my head up, I lick and suck the skin under his chin and down his neck before pulling his head down so I can reach his mouth. Our tongues wrap around each other, flicking and caressing, until the kiss grows fevered. We become frantic, stripping each other and ourselves, bumping into walls and furniture as we make it to the bedroom. His bed is a large California king-sized mattress on the floor that reaches from one wall to another, so tightly wedged it barely fits. The bedding is a satiny silver-grey, the comforter a complimentary darker charcoal grey. As we come to a stop at the bottom of the mattress, Ashton drops to his knees and takes me in his mouth.

He teases my head, swirling his tongue around the foreskin, before taking me deep. Eyes locked on mine, he sinks down my shaft purposefully slowly, taking me inch by inch until I touch the back of his throat. Then he swallows, adjusts his angle, and keeps going.

"Jesus Christ, Princess. How is it possible that my cock is the only one you've ever taken like this? You take me so deep." I shiver as his throat ripples around the head of my cock. "Fuck."

I pump my cock in and out of his mouth, slowly watching it disappear, like a salacious magic trick. If we keep this up, I'm not going to last long enough to give him what he wants. Finally, I force myself to pull out, then lower myself to my knees to kiss him.

We fumble onto the bed, a mass of bare limbs and need, skin already slick with sweat. Our bodies writhe as we roll around the bed, rubbing our hands, cocks, and bodies against each other. Ashton's thigh is pressed between my legs, my cock rubbing between our bodies as he ruts against my hip.

"Marcus, please…"

"Lube?"

Ashton rolls off me and pulls a desk drawer open, coming back with a bottle of lube. I take it from him and guide him to lie beside me, his back to my front. I position his top leg, bending it to open him up to my touch. With my fingers coated in the lube, I reach down and caress my fingers down his cleft, finding his hole and rubbing circles around the sensitive flesh. He takes one finger easily, letting out a small whimper when I add a second.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Ash?" I ask, pausing after introducing a third finger. It's the most I've ever given him, the most he's ever taken in this tight, virgin hole. His tight, virgin hole that's about to be mine. I'm going to claim him with my cock and my cum.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm ready. Stop playing with me, Marcus. I need this."

After thrusting and stretching my fingers inside him for a few more seconds, pushing in more and more lube, I pull them out. He could probably use one more to properly prepare him for my size, and I honestly do enjoy playing with him, but he's insistent.

"I could hurt you."

"I want it to hurt, Marc. I need it to." He looks over his shoulder with a sincerity so raw I feel a piece of me break off inside. "I want to feel every inch of you."

I nod and kiss the center of his back, spreading more lube on my cock and settling myself behind him. His ass pushes back against my pelvis as I rub myself up and down his crack before finally settling against his hole. I press in slowly but firmly, feeling his strong muscles contract as the head of my cock slips past the first ring of muscle. Releasing my cock, I rest my hand on his hip and continue to kiss along his spine and shoulder blades, letting him adjust to the first intrusion.

"Ready?" I whisper, and he nods, turning his face to the side to kiss me. As I lift myself up to reach his lips, I steady myself against his hip and push in further.

"Breathe," I coax him. "You're doing so good. Bear down and let your body take me in."

I don't dare think too hard about how hot, tight and smooth he is inside. I've never fucked anyone raw before. I never knew how amazing it would feel without a layer of latex constricting my cock. The decreased sensitivity probably worked in my favor, though, because holy fuck , he feels so good. Too good, and when he follows my instructions and bears down, his muscles relax, letting me slide in. I give him half of me, and then hold myself there, exercising every ounce of self-control I have.

"Okay?" I ask, checking in because he's turned his face away, burying his forehead against his arm.

"You're really fucking big," he groans.

“Want me to stop?”

“No!” he answers quickly. “Don’t stop. Please.”

"You're doing so good. You feel so good. I wish you could see what this looks like, how your ass is stretched around me, taking me."

He moans and I pull out to the tip, pushing back inside to halfway again.

"Oh. That was… different."

"Good different?"

"Try it again."

I do as he says, slowly pulling out and sliding back in. He gasps when my cock drags along his prostate, and I keep the angle, working myself in a little deeper with each thrust, until with one long thrust, I finally slide all the way in. I'm fully inside him, his ass against my pelvis, nine inches of cock buried deep inside the tightest, hottest place it's ever been.

"Oh, fuck," he whispers, letting out a shaky breath.

Oh, fuck is right. I nod into his back, wrapping an arm around his waist and hugging him close. "You're so fucking tight," I groan, physically trembling with the effort of staying still. We both need time to adjust. If I move, I might blow.

"So. Fucking. Full." Ashton's whisper is raspy and strained. He reaches an arm back to grip my hip and gently rolls his ass. We both moan, and I tentatively move inside him. Ashton grips me harder, pushing himself back. "Are you doing to do anything, or do I have to take this monster and do all the work, too?"

"Whatever my princess wants," I murmur, smirking against his back as I loop my arm to grip his shoulder, flex my thighs to pull out, and thrust all the way back in.

Ashton lets out a choked whine, and I do it again. And again. Faster, firmer, harder, until I've built up a steady rhythm. I push up, repositioning so I'm on my knees, and Ashton rolls onto his stomach, rutting into the mattress with each thrust of my cock inside him. I know I'm going to come soon. I can't hold it back any longer, but I need him to come with me. I need this to be as good for him as it is for me. I need to stop rutting into him like a mindless animal and take care of his needs so he can come. Just… one… more… second…

Ashton tenses and cries out, my name muffled into the mattress. His muscles contract around my cock, pulling me deeper inside him and making my thrusts falter.

Oh, fuck. Did he just—? Fucking hell, please be what I think that was, because I'm fucking done. My spine zings. Warmth radiates from my balls, and I unload inside him with a shout. I lay myself over his back, rolling my hips through the spams of orgasm, filling him with my cum and fucking it deeper inside him. Once my cock stops pulsing, I gather the wherewithal to lift my body weight off him, gently pulling my cock from its new favorite place. I roll Ashton to his back, a sigh of relief leaving me when I see the sticky evidence of his orgasm.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" His voice is even more hoarse than the day after I punished his throat for my feelings.

"You came," I say dumbly.

"Was I not supposed to?"

"You came untouched, I mean."

"I don't think it counts as untouched if you were pegging my prostate with the precision of a surgeon wielding a jackhammer while my cock was grinding into fucking silk. I didn't fucking have a choice in the matter," he says, chuckling awkwardly. I kiss him deeply, and he blows out a breath when I pull back again. "That was like an out-of-body experience."

"There's more where that came from," I tell him, kissing along his jaw to his ear. "I might become obsessed with this," I say, my fingers dipping down between his ass, swiping through the mess of my cum trickling out of him and then rubbing around the inside of his rim with it. I'm telling myself that it's to relieve any pain or soreness, but really, I have the insatiable urge to push it all back inside him.

"You're in so much trouble now," he says, grinning sleepily. "If you thought I was clingy and obnoxious before, you've got another thing coming." Ashton snorts. "I said coming ."

"Oh, God, what have I done? You're fucking delirious." I snicker as I get up from the bed and cross the hallway to the bathroom. I clean myself off as best I can and wet a washcloth to bring to Ashton. He's all but passed out with a satisfied grin on his face. He barely makes a sound while I gently clean him with the rag, making two trips to rinse out the washcloth.

When I'm done, I sit on my knees at the end of the bed, trying to figure out what I should do next. I probably shouldn't stay, although a big part of me wants to curl up beside him on the huge mattress that looks less huge now that he's lying on it. There's no way he'd fit on my bed.

I place a gentle kiss on the inside of his ankle, one on his ass cheek, and one on the back of his shoulder blade. His heavy breaths flutter over my lips as I drop a gentle kiss on the edge of his mouth, right where his lips always curve up in that sexy, exasperating smirk of his. I pull back to climb off the bed, but a strong arm pulls me back down, tucking me against his body and entwining one of his long legs between mine. A blanket gets pulled over our bodies.

" Mmph . Stay."

It's not a good idea, but I don't move to get up. Instead, I let myself melt into him, sighing deeply as I sink into the comfort that is Ashton James' warmth and the most comfortable bed I've ever slept on.

I'm nearly drifting off to sleep when I remember about what was said back at the party.

"Ashton?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to… But back at the party…"

His eyes open, blinking sleepily in the low light trickling in the window. "You want to know what happened at GSU."

"You don't have to tell me," I repeat.

"I want to, at least I think I do, but I'm afraid you'll think less of me than you already do."

My mind reels with possibilities of what could have happened, each more far-fetched than the last. Did he set the frat house on fire? Hurt someone? Kill someone?

"If I can forgive you for what happened with us, I think I can handle hearing this. It’s clearly something important, if it was bad enough to make you leave and come to CVU, when you didn't want to be here."

"You forgive me?" He sounds awed by my admission.

When did that happen? I don't know that it was a conscious thought or remember when I let go of that animosity, but I really don't hate him anymore. I can see how much what happened affected him, too.

"What's in the past is in the past, Ash. I don't think you're the same person you were back then."

"I'm trying not to be," he says quietly.

"You're not a bad person. Maybe misguided sometimes, but we can work with that. Yeah?"

He nods, then tucks his chin against the top of my head, pulling me in close. Maybe so he doesn't have to look me in the eyes while he tells me whatever terrible thing he needs to get off his chest. I feel that he needs to get it out, to talk about it. I can't imagine he has one person in his life that's willing to just listen and talk things out without some kind of reciprocation. I'm not really a cuddler, but I can give this to him. For a few minutes before I go.

"The only real friend I ever had got assaulted at a frat party because I was too busy drowning out the noise bottle by bottle, pill by pill, to notice she was gone. While I was hiding in a dark room trying to keep my drunk dick up long enough to get blown by some faceless pretty boy, she was fighting off the president of my fraternity."

"That doesn't sound like it was your fault at all," I say, twisting my head to look at him. He palms the side of my head and pushes it back down on his chest. It'd be funny if not for the reason he can't look me in the eyes.

"Bianca was my girlfriend. Or so everyone thought. It was a ruse for us both to avoid the predatory dating game that rich people like to play with their children." He blows out a heavy breath. "Sebastian wanted Bianca. Their fathers were working on some kind of business deal that had to do with drilling, and he thought he could gain favor by dating the oil tycoon's daughter. He pursued her so aggressively that I considered marrying her just to keep her safe. It would have worked. My parents would have been happy, hers would have been placated enough with the connections to my family’s company."

Ashton is silent other than his slow, heavy breaths for long enough that I think he won't say more, or that maybe he's too sleepy to have this conversation.

"Sebastian had apparently walked in on me and the guy. I was too drunk to notice. I remember hearing yelling, but I didn't know what it was about until I walked out and everyone was staring. Sebastian had gone on a tirade about me cheating on Bianca with a twink from the Lambda house, outing me to the entire frat and party. Then he decided that since I was cheating on Bianca anyway, she should cheat on me, too. And that entitled prick wouldn't take no for an answer."

"That's still not your fault."

He doesn't answer me, just continues. "I found them in his bedroom. He was zipping up his pants and she was crying. I knew immediately what he'd done. After that I kind of blacked out, or saw red, or whatever you want to call it. I was still really out of it, barely standing on my own.”

There’s a long pause where I’m not sure he’s going to continue. But after some deep breaths, he keeps going.

“He was in intensive care for a week, and the GSU chapter of Alpha Omega Psi got shut down when other allegations of sexual assault, drug use, and other stuff came out. My dad, of course, came to save the day and wipe my involvement from all of it, just like he did before. And, once again, he refused to do anything to help the real victim."

"What happened to her? To Bianca," I say, making sure to say her name. I read somewhere that people tend to avoid saying the names of people who have been victimized, but using their names is a way to show respect and give them some of their power back. Even if she isn't here with us, acknowledging her is a way to show Ashton that I care about his friend and what happened to them.

I can feel a tremble in his muscles as he clenches them tight, his fury and grief still so raw I hurt for him. My chest aches with worry for his friend and all of this anguish he's been holding in.

"She's okay. Or at least, she's safe. I don't know how okay she is. We don't talk anymore."

"I'm sorry you went through all that."

"It was my fault," he says, turning on his side away from me.

When I reach for him, wanting to comfort him, I worry that he'll flinch away from me, but he doesn't. Instead, he pulls my hand around to his chest and holds it there.

Pressing my forehead between his shoulder blades, I curve my body around his back.

"It wasn't your fault. You aren't responsible for what happened. You defended your friend in any way you could."

There's no response. I press a kiss to his back and press my cheek to his skin. I stay that way until his breaths even out and I know for sure he's asleep.

I should get up. I know I should. No matter how much I feel for him, and even with the admission that I don't hate him anymore, I know I should keep some distance.

But I don't move to get up. Instead, I let myself melt into him, sighing deeply as I drift off to sleep.

What the fuck am I doing with Ashton James?

I’ll figure it out tomorrow.

When I wake up the next morning, he’s gone.