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Mark

“ O h fuuuck. Yes. Yes. Harder!”

Noah slams back onto my cock, nearly knocking the air out of me.

Holy shit. This is unreal. His ass is unreal, squeezing me so sweetly.

I slide deeper, groaning at the way his walls grip me, and try to match his pace.

His stamina is always insane but tonight it’s on a whole different level.

I’m not sure what has him so worked up. Can’t say I don’t love it but damn, let me breathe.

I’m getting winded fast. I’m not exactly what you’d call athletic.

I breathe heavily, wiping sweat off my forehead.

If we keep fucking at this pace, I’m going to pass out.

Looking down, I watch where our bodies connect and oof , yes, there it is. Hello there second wind. “You’re so fucking tight, so fucking pretty.”

Noah pushes back on me, hugging me in his heat. My eyes roll back. I bite my lip. I’m going to blow. Holy shit, what’s come over him? I try to hold off my orgasm but goddamn, I’m only human. I squeeze his ass, watching the way it jiggles when it collides with my hips. It’s sinful. “Harder!”

“How much harder can I go?!” My hips will be bruised tomorrow. Unlike Noah, I have no padding. Despite trying to bulk up, I’m skin and bones. I don’t have much cushion to work with.

“Figure it out,” he groans, as his fingers squeeze my sheets. I watch his muscles bunch in his back. Noah is gorgeous, I can’t deny it, no matter how much he irritates me sometimes.

With curly brown hair, bright green eyes, and pretty red lips that promise very naughty things, I can’t resist him. Noah and I met late last year and have pretty much fucked on and off since then, forming a friendship with this very hot benefit.

Digging my fingers into his hips, I watch the way his ass bounces. Damn, I have to admire him. He’s shorter than me by nearly six inches with a toned, gorgeous body—like a runner or swimmer. His creamy skin feels so fucking soft and his ass is the thing dreams are made of.

Planting one foot on the bed, I change the angle, driving deeper into him and forcing the most debauched noises from his lips. The sound goes straight to my balls. His fingers white-knuckle my blankets. “That! There. Yes! Finally,” he pants. Reaching under himself, he strokes his cock. “I’m close.”

Sliding my hands up his body, I guide him up and back against my chest. His hand picks up speed on his cock, and my balls pull tight to my body.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, Noah.” Moving his hand away, I replace it with mine, stroking him fast and fucking into him without restraint.

He tightens like a vise. Velvet heat hugs my cock, making my eyes pinch closed.

My balls tingle as pleasure races up my spine. “Fuck I’m, I’m—”

I bite down on his neck and Noah cries out, coming onto my bedsheets. I don’t even have time to be annoyed by the mess as my orgasm slams into me. “Let me come in this tight little hole,” I growl into his ear.

“Absolutely not!” he snaps, pushing back at my thighs.

Worth a shot . Sighing, I let him go, and he falls forward, catching himself with his hands. “Spread your ass for me.”

“You’re so annoying.” He does what I ask, though, exposing his gorgeous hole swollen from my use. I jerk myself as Noah’s finger dips inside. Okay, hot . “Come on me,” he moans dramatically, and I don’t care that it’s all for show.

“Fuck, Noah.” Ropes of cum land on his ass. It feels fucking amazing, but like always, the pleasure doesn’t last long and before I know it reality sets in. More and more the way I feel after takes away any fun we may have had. I don’t know why.

“Are you done?” His voice is muffled against my blankets.

“Yeah.” I slap his ass. “Do you always have to be so goddamn loud?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. They’re courtesy moans,” he snarks. “Get me a towel.”

“Get your own towel.”

Noah huffs, getting off my bed and going to the dresser to grab my wet wipes. “Here.” He hands me the package. “Be a gentleman.” Rolling my eyes, I snatch a wet wipe and clean him up. It’s the least I can do.

After I clean us both up, I grab my sweatpants and pull them on.

Noah dresses, then runs his fingers through his hair and puts his glasses back on.

I look at my bed. Dammit! Stripping my comforter off, I throw it in the hamper.

I did not want to have to do laundry tomorrow.

I should have put a sheet down, but it’s not exactly like I was thinking with the head on my shoulders when Noah texted me a couple of hours earlier.

I grab a clean blanket, putting it on, and as soon as it’s down Noah gets back onto my bed. “What are you doing?”

“Lying down. I’m exhausted.”

Here we go again . “I want to go to sleep.”

“Then lie down and sleep.”

I do not need this right now. At what point did Noah stop taking hints? We’ve been fucking around for a while now but lately something’s changed with us. I’m not sure what, I just know I don’t like it.

Over the summer we talked constantly. Noah lives outside of Manhattan, and I live in a small town about an hour from here, so we didn’t see each other much but we talked every day.

Since we got back to school, though, something has shifted between us—Noah’s getting clingy.

I’m afraid somewhere along the way he’s gained feelings, and I just can’t handle that. I like what we have.

“You know I don’t do sleepovers. You know this.” I’ve been so clear, but lately Noah finds ways to push, and I don’t want him to get confused about what this is between us. I’ve always refused to let him sleep here. It’s too intimate. We fuck, then we’re done.

“It’s nearly one in the morning. I don’t want to walk across campus in the dark.”

“There are lights everywhere.”

“Are you serious?” His pretty lips pinch.

“It’s a five-minute walk, and you had no problem walking over here to get some. I think you’ll manage.”

His jaw clenches. Noah gets up, dramatically walking to my computer chair and yanking my sweatshirt off the back of it.

“I’m taking this!” He levels me with a look that shrivels my balls.

“I know you don’t want a relationship, but you also don’t have to be an asshole. ” Noah slams my door on the way out.

Goddammit.

Whatever. We need to cool off anyhow. It’s fun and all, but Noah keeps finding more and more ways to linger, and even though he’s hot, there’s nothing there beyond the physical with him.

We need to talk the next time I see him.

I need to make it clear that this is just fun. I have no feelings for him.

Honestly, I don’t even think I’m capable of it.

Staring up at my ceiling hours later, I’m still thinking about Noah. The light, happy feeling of my orgasm crashed and burned quickly, and now I just feel like shit. I’m so tired of him being so pushy but I feel like an asshole now.

Lying here restless, I start to get hungry. It’s nearly two in the morning, so I decide to shower and grab something from the vending machine—there isn’t any other option right now on campus. And maybe a shower will make this gross feeling go away.

It’s eerie this late at night in the dimly lit halls, and when my phone buzzes, making me jump, I instantly want to throw it against the wall.

Since that won’t serve me at all, I roll my eyes instead, squeezing it in my hand as I read the text I missed earlier, then laugh when I see the name I put Derrick in my phone as.

Dickwad:

Quad tomorrow at 11

How did I get myself into this fucking mess? Normal people would stop hanging out with people like Derrick fucking Shaw, but I’m not most people, and this isn’t a normal situation. I hate the bullshit with him but here I am still with no end in sight.

Jamming my phone back in my pocket, I don’t answer him back. He texted me a while ago and it is too late to deal with that mess. Still, I wonder what he wants to talk about, or worse, what he wants me to do this time.

I need to work faster but he gives me nothing, and with hockey season starting I can’t even get him distracted with drinking or a party. All I need is for him to slip up. I’m tired of being his punching bag, but I have to do this until I can catch him in his lies.

And I will catch him.

I dry off, slipping on a new pair of sweats, and grabbing my shower caddy, I walk down the eerie hall, careful not to make too much noise. I don’t have class in the morning, thank god, because I’m beat.

Turning down my hall, I stop when I see a man standing in front of the vending machine with his forehead pressed against the glass. I walk slowly by, taking in his built frame displayed very nicely in the sleeveless white shirt he’s wearing.

Lots and lots of muscles.

Damn.

He seems to be a little shorter than me. His brown hair is styled in that messy way you know is on purpose and close-cropped on the sides. As I walk by, I notice his eyes are closed, his mouth moving. Is he counting? “I think it takes money, not whispered sweet nothings.”

He startles, hitting me with wide brown eyes. “Jesus! You fucking scared me.”

“Ah, sorry.” It’s only now I see the bruise blooming on his handsome face. “Shit, are you okay?”

He scrubs his stubbled jaw, backing away toward the wall and sinking against it. “I’m fine. Just trying to get something to eat.” He rubs his head. “The machine ate my dollar.”

“What do you want?”

“Huh?”

“What were you trying to get?”

“Oh uh, I don’t care. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

I dig into my pocket and grab the ten dollars I was going to use for my own snack, putting it in the machine and clicking a bunch of buttons. I don’t really care what comes out, my focus is more on him.

The goods drop down and I grab them, picking a candy bar for myself and handing him the rest. “Here.”

“What’s this for?”

I shrug, sinking down the opposite wall.