13. Matt

He'll never do it.

He says he hates me, but he doesn't want me. Not like this.

He probably thinks he's torturing me right now. It's the only way for him to channel his anger.

The only connection between us.

And fuck, it's intense.

His eyes are wild with rage, his dark expression borderline demonic as he stares me down.

His hand jerks me relentlessly, and fuck, I want to come. I need his cock buried deep inside of me.

I need him to distract me, to shatter me so I can't think.

My heart hammers hard.

I shouldn't want him to do it.

But goddammit, I do.

So, I taunt him.

"You talk such a big game about how I screwed you over, how I deserve to feel the same pain." My voice shakes.

I pull my hand away from his cock and spit into it before grabbing him again. A loud hiss of air slips from his lips and he lets out a low groan.

He strokes me harder, sweeping the droplets of precum up and down my shaft. "You do. I want you to suffer."

"So, then what are you waiting for?" I rasp. "Make me. Hurt me. Do what you've thought about doing for the past eight years."

His face morphs into a mask of disdain.

"I stole your life, right? Took what you worked so hard for?" I thrust my hips like a greedy little fuckboy against his hand as he works me faster.

"You don't deserve to come," he growls. "That will feel too good. You know what I can do to you. And you need to pay for what you did. What I had to go through."

His chest collapses against me, crushing my lungs with his mass. I lean my head back against the wall, my eyes squeezed shut tight. He edges me, knowing I'm so close to exploding. And then he pulls away the pleasure. Over and over.

I can barely think at this point, and my grip on him keeps loosening because my own lust overtakes every one of my limbs.

Zak grabs a handful of my hair and presses his lips against mine again. He leans into me, our cocks rubbing together, slick with precum.

Please, fuck me, make me forget…just for a little while…

Desperation makes every cell and nerve fire. I crave his hands, his lips, his dick, his power.

I need him to dominate me, to claim me, and to punish me for what I did.

I want to feel pain. I want to save him. I want to save my family.

I'll take whatever anyone gives to keep them all safe.

My body quakes, my balls so tight the agony makes me wince.

My father let down my family.

I let down Zak.

I can't be the person he was…is.

And I can't risk my future because if shit goes sideways, or worse, falls apart, I'm finished.

I already have that threat hanging over my head, but I have that under control.

But this? It would make my entire world implode.

Perception will become reality. I would be targeted. The story would come out. People will see me as a liar, a fraud, and a cheater.

My career will be finished, my family will plummet into a downward spiral.

Nobody will be saved.

I pant against Zak's demanding lips, biting down on his lower lip before plunging my tongue into his hot and hungry mouth.

So, how the fuck are we still here right now?

Angry tears sting my eyes behind my lids.

I could lose everything in a hot second if someone decided to take this exit and walk down these stairs.

But right now, I don't care. All I care about is feeling Zak bury himself deep in my ass. It was the only connection I ever had with another person that felt real and honest.

"Please…" I grunt as his lips suck over the pulse point in my neck. "One last time, Zak."

He flips me around so suddenly that I grunt with surprise when my face plants against the wall. With one hand, he still works my throbbing cock.

His lips tug on my lobe. "You live your life of lies. Be miserable because you can't be the man you want to be. You have money, fame, and nothing that you really want. Anna isn't who you dream about fucking. You don't give a damn about that pussy. Doesn't matter how hot she is. You tolerate it, but it doesn't make your blood burn."

My rib cage shakes from the force of my heartbeat. He lines himself up at my hole. No lube. No prep.

He's gonna fuck me raw.

And I can't wait.

With a low roar, he drives into my ass. I cry out, forgetting where we are. Zak slaps a hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. "Bite my fingers so I know how much it hurts. The harder you bite, the harder I'm going to fuck you."

I clamp down on his fingers. I want to taste his blood. He thrusts deep, hard, and fast, not even giving me a chance to adjust to him. I moan against his palm, the burning pain tearing through me with no other focus since he stopped jerking my dick.

The asshole.

He did say he wants me to suffer.

I move his hand away and try to grab it myself, but he blocks it from me. "No. That would feel too good, wouldn't it?"

"You sadistic fuck," I sputter against his hand, spit flying out of the corners of my mouth.

I arch my back and grind against his dick, urging him deeper. My body is full of him, my ass so greedy.

He moves easier after the first few minutes, my ass stretched wide as he bottoms out. I lean my head back against him and his hand moves back to my aching cock. He strokes it, but this time, it's not like he hates me. It's hard but more erotic than disgusted. I alternate between thrusting against his hand and his cock, and then holy mother of God…

His hand is still tight against my lips. I scream and thank fuck it's muffled because I'm convinced everyone in the stadium would have heard it. He pegs my prostate, over and over. My body freezes in place because it feels so incredible, so amazing, and I'm afraid that if I move, it'll end.

I don't want it to end…

But it does. Lightning crashes and cum spurts from the tip of my cock, coating his hand, my chest, and my pants. His hips jerk, and he collapses against me, forcing me back against the wall as his own orgasm tears through him.

I deserved pain. I welcomed pain.

But this wasn't torture. It was euphoria.

What I've missed for so long, what I can never find with anyone else, no matter how hard I tried.

That connection was always missing.

I finally found it again, but I can't have it. It will never be mine.

Never ours.

It takes a few minutes for me to catch my breath after having my body ravaged so brutally and fantastically at the same time.

I love it rough and dirty. I crave the anguish that only he can make me feel.

A few deep breaths quake my lungs.

But I can't have it. Ever.

I meant when I said it was the last time.

I'm so weak for this man. I know I can easily fall right into his net, never able to claw my way out.

The bigger problem is I wouldn't want to.

"Did you get it all out?" I hiss, tucking my dick into my pants and straightening my shirt before buttoning everything back up.

So easy with clothes…

Not so much with goddamn emotions.

I square my shoulders, clench my fingers into tight fists, and turn to fire a glare at him, taken aback by the blank look on his flushed face. Like he's in a deep sea of post-coital bliss and has no clue what I'm even saying.

All the more reason to keep going.

"You did what you wanted to do. You hate fucked me so you could heal and move on."

His eyebrows furrow, but he doesn't speak. He just stares at me, that familiar pained gaze back to haunt me.

At least I got a few minutes of peace while his cock plowed my ass.

I lean toward him, narrowing my eyes. Heat creeps up the sides of my neck, my heart lanced by imaginary knives as my lips part again.

"Turn around and walk away from me, Zak. We're done, so move the fuck on."