Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Scotland

Worst idea ever.He shuffled his hip against the ground, attempting to find some carpet that was softer than concrete. It was probably a bit better than hardwood or something similar, but the plush had obviously worn out a long time ago. He wasn’t going to let Clint sleep on the floor, though.

As soon as Clint had settled on the couch in a T-shirt, he’d promptly passed out. Sleep had obviously been escaping him for longer than he’d let on, because he’d barely even moved. And he snored, which was absolutely adorable.

Scotland sat up, shuffling until his back was against the couch. Turning his head, he watched Clint in the low light, memorizing the soft outline of his sleeping face. Every so often a car would pull into the lot outside, the beams flickering over the window and casting a temporary beacon.

He hadn’t heard anything from Maddy and Derreck’s bedroom since they’d retreated to it, but the door was open a crack. Sound would easily be able to slip both ways.

“You asleep?” he asked softly, running his thumb over Clint’s lips. Clint scrunched his forehead in his sleep, letting out a little whimper. He was almost painfully beautiful, his face relaxed and his worries nowhere to be found.

He trailed his fingers along Clint’s chin where his scruff had returned in full force since he’d shaved yesterday. It gave him a rugged appearance, that wasn’t nearly as desperate and unkept as it had been before. His neck was soft until the top of his chest, where his hair began. Scotland weaved his fingers into what he could reach through the neck hole of Clint’s T-shirt, tickling over Clint’s warm flesh beneath.

Scotland watched as Clint’s cock twitched in his sleep, his lips parting with a soft noise that wasn’t quite a moan. Awake, he was responsive, but in sleep, his guard was completely gone.

They had talked about this exact thing before—the memory burning through Scotland as he moved his hand so he could dip under Clint’s shirt. His abdomen was firm but relaxed, his pecs the perfect size to fit in Scotland’s palm. It didn’t take much to drag his boxers down past his hips.

Clint had told him about his time with Ross one of the evenings they’d sat around the empty firepit, and the days he would get fucked awake. He’d said those were some of his best mornings—already sore and open before he’d had his first coffee.

“What’re you doing?” asked Clint, his voice thick with sleep. Scotland let out a sigh filled with relief, teasing over Clint’s nipple. He wasn’t going to push any limits with Clint when he was asleep, especially if they hadn’t negotiated the kink.

“Thinking about fucking you,” said Scotland honestly. Clint’s cock twitched against his arm, a bit of moisture dragging over his skin. “How would you feel about taking your shirt off for me now?”

Clint rolled slightly, pressing his cock hard into Scotland’s arm and thrusting his hips. “You aren’t fucking me in here. Derreck would bury me alive if I got cum on his couch. I’m pretty sure he already dug the grave earlier.”

Scotland grinned, pulling away to tug his own track pants down. He was already throbbing from watching Clint—hell, he’d been hard since Clint had first sat in his lap that night. Clint hadn’t opened his eyes yet, his lashes dark against his cheeks. “Who said anything about you coming?”

“Fuck.” Clint let out a loud breath before shuffling to pull his shirt over his head. “Are you ever going to let me come?”

“Quiet,” said Scotland, lifting himself onto the couch and hovering over Clint. “You’re louder than you think. I wouldn’t want Maddy to wake up to see his boss getting fucked on the couch.”

“Who said I’d let you fuck me?” Clint poked him in the middle of the chest.

Scotland froze for a moment, going over every conversation they’d had. Even if he was just playing kinky friend at the moment, Clint hadn’t mentioned sex being a limit. A smile stretched over his lips as he realized what Clint was implying.

Oh, so that’s how you want to play it?If Clint wanted to push some boundaries, then Scotland was all for it. Consensual non-consent happened to be one of his biggest turn-ons—and Clint’s, it seemed.

“You can’t stop me,” said Scotland, gripping Clint’s hip and squeezing hard. “We both know that I’m the stronger one, and you’re the slut.” He gave Clint one final soft caress across his belly before he sank into the scene.

It wasn’t difficult to let the hardness settle over him, his muscles already tight and hot from thinking about Clint naked beneath him. He didn’t have to pretend when it came to the longing and lust, nor the desire to see Clint squirm and whimper.

I want it all.

When Clint tried to sit up, Scotland slapped a hand over his mouth as gently as he could, pressing him back into the couch. With his other hand, he grabbed Clint by the balls, squeezing them tight. Clint let out a muffled whine, trying to close his legs.

“Are you going to be good?” Scotland asked, bringing his lips close to Clint’s ear. He cast a glance at the open bedroom door, but there was no sound except soft snores.

Clint nodded, his eyes wide as he sucked heavy breaths through his nose. He seemed just as lost to the scene as Scotland was.

Releasing Clint with both hands, Scotland grabbed for his hips a second time, attempting to flip Clint again. He only got halfway before Clint seemed to come awake, kicking out and wiggling at the same time.

The blow was light, but it still stung where Clint managed to nail him with one knee. He touched the spot on his thigh, gritting his teeth through the muscle spasm.

Scotland hadn’t been lying. He was stronger than Clint, even if the margin wasn’t all that wide.

Before Clint could react, Scotland reefed him around, pressing his face into the armrest of the couch. As Clint scrambled to get his face out of the soft leather, Scotland grabbed his hips, tugging him to his knees and moving close until his cock slid between Clint’s cheeks.

“So easy,” he reached a hand back, touching Clint’s entrance with a single finger. “All I need is a little slick, and you’ll take me right inside.” He spit on his fingers, rubbing over Clint’s entrance before lining up his cock.

“Fuck no.” Clint arched before throwing his weight back and effectively breaking Scotland’s hold. The couch creaked from the sudden move, the leather groaning as they struggled.

Scotland had his reflexes to thank for how quickly he was able to recover, slapping a hand over Clint’s mouth and pinching his nose at the same time. “Quiet. They’ll be able to hear you if you pull that stunt again.”

As he released Clint’s nose, letting him drag in a few deep breaths, he spit on his other hand again, slicking up his cock. With Clint still distracted, he lined his cock up, pushing inside with relentless pressure.

Clint froze as soon as he was breached, clamping around Scotland like a fucking vise as he let out a loud whimper. Scotland pressed his hand harder against Clint’s mouth, muffling his cries.

“You can call for help, but they won’t stop me. Maybe Derreck will even want to join. I’ve heard rumors about his cock, and I’ve always wondered how true they are.”

He lifted his hand from Clint’s mouth as he eased forward, giving him the opportunity to speak up if he needed to. They had non-vocal backups just in case, but he’d rather play it safe during an intense scene.

“Fuck.” Clint trembled as Scotland was finally inside, his groin pressed hard against Clint’s ass. “It hurts. It hurts. Fuck, so good.”

I love masochists.They were literally the best—Clint especially.

Scotland wrapped his arm around Clint’s neck, dragging him upward so he could seat himself a little deeper. Clint was hot around him and so fucking tight that he knew he wasn’t going to last long. He couldn’t give in yet, or he would never hear the end of it.

“You can’t seem to stay quiet. Let me help you.” Scotland took one quick glance toward Maddy and Derreck’s bedroom before he surged his hips forward, tensing his arm at the same time to cut Clint’s air off.

Clint didn’t grab for him or try to pry his arm from his throat. Instead, he reached for Scotland’s hips, tugging him closer—deeper.

Rocking as much as he could without making the couch creak, Scotland curled his body around Clint’s, trying to find that spot that would blow Clint’s mind. From the way he jerked in his arms, he knew exactly when he found it.

He pulled back, slamming deep as hard as he could. The slap of skin rang out in the darkness, loud enough to startle him. But Clint’s response was worth it as he jerked, a cry vibrating against Scotland’s arm before it was cut off.

He loosened his grip, and Clint drew in a shuddering breath, turning his face as much as he could toward Scotland. His eyes were closed, his lips parted. Headlights flashed at the window, lighting up the tears on Clint’s cheeks.

“I’m going to come,” said Clint, his voice absolutely wrecked. His whole body was shaking, his lower lip trembling.

So fucking good.Scotland changed his grip so he was holding Clint by the hair, drawing his body away so his cock slid into cool air. Grabbing the nearest discarded piece of clothing, he wiped his cock off, hesitating as he throbbed fiercely.

There really was no reason that he couldn’t come himself.

“Come here.” Scotland leaned against the back of the couch, guiding Clint’s head between his legs. When his lips brushed against his cock, he let out a harsh hiss. “Safeword now if you need to.” He could totally understand someone safewording in this kind of situation, especially Clint, who seemed to have a touch of germaphobia.

He groaned when Clint stayed silent. Tugging Clint onto his cock and pushing his head down until his cock bumped against the back of Clint’s throat, he let out a soft sigh.

There was nothing like getting good head, and even if he was out of practice, Clint was good.

He held him there, even as he let out a gag that wasn’t exactly quiet. The bedroom was still silent, Maddy and Derreck hopefully still sleeping on the other side of the wall. The noise was part of the thrill—the risk of getting caught thrumming through him.

He knew Clint loved it as much as he did.

“I thought I saw the doorknob turn,” said Scotland, forcing Clint to take him deeper, even as he tried to tug away. “Can you imagine Maddy’s face if he walked in here to see your ass gaping as you choked on my cock? He would know exactly how hard you like it—his high and mighty boss who never lets anyone step out of line, getting fucked raw with no lube.”

Clint whimpered, taking Scotland into his throat until his nose pressed against Scotland’s groin. He was so tight, the suction like none other even as drool pooled on Scotland’s cock.

“Trick told me what you said to him—how dangerous it was to fuck someone without lube. Not to mention breath play… I wish he could see you now and see how fucking good you take it.”

Scotland eased Clint back, making sure he caught his breath before he took him again. There were so many things that people said in the club that could make a newbie uncomfortable. Scotland liked soaking it all up, usually keeping it to himself.

“What about Maxim and Nikita?” asked Scotland, reaching to flick on a lamp light so he could watch the tears roll down Clint’s cheeks. He flinched in the sudden light, but it was perfect. Clint was absolutely wrecked, his eyes red along with the tip of his nose with his lips stretched wide around Scotland’s cock.

He didn’t look like he was quite there as he relaxed, allowing Scotland to take what he wanted. Let go, love.

“I heard you gave them a lecture on gun safety.” Scotland bit the inside of his cheek as Clint sucked him hard. “I wonder if they would have listened if they saw how good of a cocksucker you are. They probably would have just been imagining something between your pretty lips.”

Clint slapped the couch, fresh tears falling. Scotland jerked him free, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “You need a break?”

“Don’t talk about them like that,” said Clint, his voice thick with tears and the achy remnants of Scotland’s cock.

“Is that a safeword?” asked Scotland, stroking Clint’s cheek.

Clint looked away, lowering his gaze to the ground before he shook his head.

Some truths were harder to hear than others. Clint was loving it if his cock was anything to go by. The head was nearly purple, pre-cum dripping down the shaft.

“You okay to continue?” Scotland tested the waters a second time, a bit of uncertainty seeping in. He’d fucked up before, and he didn’t want to do it again. At Clint’s nod, he kissed his forehead before putting Clint’s mouth back where it belonged.

“I heard Henley used to hit on you,” he groaned as Clint choked once before settling. “It sounds like he was a badass, and he was drooling for you. He must’ve known how good you are with your mouth. Isthmus and Rowes certainly know how pretty your cock is now. You couldn’t wait to show it off to them.”

He must’ve struck a chord, because Clint put his hands on Scotland’s knees, digging his nails in. It wasn’t a safeword, but maybe it was supposed to be a warning.

When do I ever listen to warnings?If Scotland hadn’t fucked up so many times, he wouldn’t be here living out one of his greatest fantasies.

“You helped every single one of them,” said Scotland, his leg jerking as he grew closer. “I knew it as soon as I saw you. ‘There’s a guy who helps people and likes to get fucked.’ You kept acting shy, like you didn’t know what a cock was, never thinking of yourself.”

He thrust deep one last time, holding Clint tight so he couldn’t escape. “They love you—every single one of us. Maddy and Derreck, Trick and Nav, Copley and the twins—none of them would be together if not for you. You’re the best man I know.”

He came as Clint let out a choked-off sob, tears streaming down his cheeks as he locked his watery gaze with Scotland’s. His grip was painful on Scotland’s knees, but his fight was gone. Clint went limp, swallowing every bit of cum as Scotland watched subspace take him like a rising storm.

“So fucking good.”

He wasn’t letting Clint sleep alone on the couch tonight or any other night. Clint was his.