20. Peris

Even with virulentabhorrence churning through my bloodstream, the shadowy figure on top of me, rocking slowly, rolling his hips, and moaning like a whore, is all I feel.

Not the disgust I know is there. Not even the urge to shove him off.

Only flashes of panic, his lithe body, and the tight hole I’m buried inside.

“Fuck,” I grunt when Abel’s cock drags against my stomach, catching on my belly button. He whimpers, catching the sound through his teeth as they sink into his fat bottom lip. His larynx rolls against my hand, reminding me of how tight my grip really is. I ease up, and he sucks in a stuttering breath.

The scratch of his cheap boxers against my skin makes me burn, and the only solace I find is in the smooth crease of his thighs, fingers to his scabbed burns. My nails drag along the satin skin between, a slow, hypnotizing pull of friction.

I blink up, and with my eyes adjusted to the darkness, the eerie red glow of my alarm clock appears more pink as it washes over Abel’s porcelain skin. A demon in an angel’s body.

His jaw hangs slack, eyelids at half-mast as his chin drags over his bony sternum with every unhurried rotation. The way his skeleton shifts beneath his thin flesh is unnatural, and for a second, I surmise they’re about to pierce through and I’ll finally catch a glimpse at his bone-white insides. But then, his palms smack down over my chest, and the sting is strong enough to pull me back to the smooth pressure of his hard, little cock and smooth balls trapped between both our torsos.

Abel’s lips are inches away, breath too hot and too fast over my own, eyes still so fucking sharp in the darkness. Bright white encircling glassy, mercury pools.

The same now as they were months ago. Only now, it’s me against him. Touching him, tasting him.

With a hitch of air and a hesitant kiss, Abel’s channel contracts around me, pulling a groan from my throat. My head rolls to the side as tears sting unbidden. Seeing him and feeling him simultaneously… it’s—it’s too much.

I can’t?—

Maybe if I keep my eyes closed, I can pretend…

“Don’t.” His melodic voice, obstructed with gravel, permeates my mind. Eyelashes skim my eyebrows as my body follows the sound of its own volition. Abel’s no longer moving, just a light weight atop me. A blanket of reality in this fuzzy uncertainty.

“Don’t do that,” he rasps so softly, I barely hear it—the quiver of panic. It sinks into my veins like the strike of fangs, all poison and venom as it rejuvenates.

I latch onto it like the lifeline it is. Rolling my head back, I drag my palms up his thighs, over textured skin and damp cotton, tugging on the hem so it bites into the tender skin of his balls. His hiss is exactly what I need.

“Don’t what?” I ask, pulling a little harder.

Abel tries to readjust against the newfound pressure against his most sensitive parts, but I don’t give him the reprieve. I find the sexy little hollow of his waist and dig in, keeping him exactly where I want him. Where he should always be.

It doesn’t have to hurt.

“Don’t act like—” I flex my quadriceps and my glutes, and the short burst of movement cuts him off. He mewls, nails scratching down my sternum as he clutches for balance. The flutter of his channel around me turns everything a bit darker, a lot hazier.

I rock up again, needing more. Abel hums softly and tries widening his legs, but the fabric is already pulled as taut as it can go. He huffs, annoyed with a cute little curve to his top lip. My thumb finds rest against it, the pad digging into his snaggletooth.

His tongue darts out, swiping over my skin before sucking it into his mouth. Smooth sandpaper and spit envelop the digit. My nail scraps over his teeth when he bobs forward against the rotation of my hips below him.

I scrape my way up over his sharp ribs until I find the crooked barbell in his one nipple. With a twist to my lips, I grab ahold of the end and tug, watching the tiny bud stretch taut, and then, I keep pulling.

Abel mewls, falling forward against the pressure. When his mouth is once again inches away, I rip my hand away to clash mine to his, needing that pain, the inevitable revulsion that ensues with tasting him… only it never comes.

There’s only ardent fervor and anger.

Because he took that from me. The one thing I always knew would be there. A piece that had become a part of me.

“Can’t you stop thinking for once?” he utters softly against my lips. I hiss and jerk him back with a fistful of his hair, his back bowing as I push myself up. The shift in movement sends my cock deeper inside him, and we both groan in unison.

“I would if you’d do as you were told,” I sneer. “You’re supposed to be fucking me. Prettily, I might add. Not running your fucking mouth.”

“Do you even know what you want, Peris?” I don’t like the insinuation of his question, but of course, the brat doesn’t give it a moment’s pause. “One minute, you’re lost in this, and the next, you’re so deep in your head, you forget I’m even here. With you, like this.” He accentuates his point by clenching his ass around me.

I want to scream at him, You don’t know how hard this is. What this means… but the searing constriction has my hips jerking up. Abel bucks, meeting my thrust with one of his own, and the slap of flesh ricochets off the walls.

My breaths stutter, sharp through my nostrils. His nasty little grin twists his features, and the haunting, pink glow has never looked more becoming. “If you want pretty, baby, I can give that to you.”

His arms extend behind him, long fingers tightly gripping the meat of my upper thighs. I stare through pink shadows as he bends backward, his body curved with his chin to his chest, and starts fucking me as prettily as he promised.

I’m breathless, watching the roll of his hips, the way his little cock strains against his boxers. His hair as it flops across his forehead, skimming his crooked nose. Eyes—piercing metal—as he stares into me from beneath his lashes.

There’s no pretending he isn’t who he is… But he also doesn’t need to know that.

The drag of cotton against the side of my dick chafes, and I grit my teeth as Abel drops down again. The grip of one hand tightens for balance as the other snakes inside his underwear, bicep flexing with every jerk of his fist. His head drops back a little more with every sway, making it so much easier.

He’s as focused on himself as he is me, and I’ve never seen anything hotter. Porn has nothing on Abel Silver and his sex prowess.

I grip the flap in the center of his boxers and rip it open. The fabric tears, filling the room with a staticky vibration that sends gooseflesh bursting across Abel’s skin. He gasps as he’s freed from the material, which now hangs in scraps around his hips and left thigh.

His entire groin is now exposed, and I’m caught somewhere between life and death, hate and lies. Always one and the same.

“You’re g-gonna have to—mmm, buy me new ones,” Abel mumbles. I chuckle, rolling my neck as the heat spreads.

It’s too late now.

There’s no point in fighting it… but was there ever really?

Abel Silver has always been inexorable. The entity of everything I’ve coveted and loathed. A testament to my past and the undeniable proof I didn’t have to be this way.

So full of malice and contempt.

I could’ve been… well, not good because Abel sure as all hell isn’t anything close. But I could have been okay with it—who I am.

Maybe in another life. This one’s already too far gone.

“Don’t have to do shit other than lay here, runt.”

“Mmhmm,” he drawls slowly with another punctuated roll, the sound emitting from his throat deeper than anything I’ve ever heard. It’s then I realize the friction wasn’t from his boxers but from where we’re connected.

The drag of my cock in his channel is too tight, too… dry. The realization sucks the breath from my lungs, now knowing what it feels like on both ends. And I fucking hate it.

I grab Abel’s thigh, my other hand always finding rest on his waist.

“Why’s your pussy so dry, runt?” I spit through gritted teeth. My balls are tight against my body, and fighting the ripple of fervor takes every ounce of self-control I clearly don’t possess.

Abel’s movements stutter, hips jerking to a stop. His cock bobs where it’s curved up against his stomach, the glans smearing around in his happy trail. My fingers twitch to drag through it, over it. To dig my nail beneath the bulbous head.

It’s too dark to make out his complexion, but I have a feeling he’s blushing, which fuck me,if that doesn’t make me lose the plot a bit.

I shoot upward and yank Abel against me as I flip us over. His back drops onto the mattress with a breathless grunt, followed by mutual pained moans when I settle between his spread thighs with a thrust that sends his skinny cock dragging over my abdomen.

“Answer me,” I grunt into his neck.

His breath is faster than I’ve ever heard it, even more so than when I choked him with my cock. It makes my lips twitch.

“Just didn’t—didn’t have anything,” he answers between each inhale, fingers scratching down my spine. I huff in disbelief.

“Figured a whore like you would always be prepared.” I pinch his skin between my teeth and pull back. Abel hisses and rises in the direction of my mouth. Gnashing my teeth together, I relish in the pliability of his flesh, gnawing until I taste copper. “I like my pussy wet, runt.” I pause, dart my eyes between his. When he doesn’t move, I slam into him just to make him scream. “So make it fucking wet.”

“W-with what?” he chokes out, throat clogged with tears. Emitting what I can’t, and it’s music to my ears.

“Lotion. In the drawer.” I jerk my head to my bedside table.

“You can’t grab it?”

I pull from his heat with a hiss as my palm connects with his cheek without thinking. Abel’s head snaps to the right, nose nearly buried in my pillowcase.

My cock bobs between us, skimming the inside of his thigh when his own hand comes up to cradle his face. My own follows in a gentle caress. “No, I can’t.”

Time slows in the fraction of a second between Abel’s thought process and the movement of his reaction. He shoves up, nearly headbutting me as his own arm jerks around, and then knobby, scarred knuckles burst into flames along my jaw.

The force of his punch knocks me back as I fall on my haunches, blinking rapidly through the flashes dotting my vision. Abel’s shoulders graze his ears, entire body vibrating with rage. His lip is fish-hooked, nostrils flared, tiny fists balled tight.

I stare agape, cracking open my mouth with a pop in my jaw. A throbbing pulse radiates at the junction of bone, where it travels around my neck and down my spine.

I blink again. Catch my lip between my teeth as I finger what I know will be a bruise tomorrow. “Did you just fucking hit me?”

“Did you just hit me?” he snaps back, lashes fluttering rapidly like he’s holding back tears. I crack a smile so wide, I wince when my jaw pops again.

“Tit for tat,” I murmur as I drop my hand to my dick to squeeze the base when my balls pulse with impending release. My head rolls as I fight it back, breathing through each pulse like a black heartbeat over my vision.

“Are you gonna come?” Abel asks, sounding incredulous.

I suck my teeth. “Not until I’m inside you again. Oh, don’t give me that look. You and I both know you want to be filled, runt.” I lean down until the tips of our noses press together. I go a bit cross-eyed as I say, “I mean, that’s why I’m not wearing a condom right now, isn’t it?”

His throat rolls, the sharp cartilage drawing my focus. I dip in to nip at it. “I didn’t even?—”

“Too late now,” I whisper. It’s too late for so much.

He shudders, and the taste of his goosebumps creates some of my own.

With a trembling hand, Abel reaches across the bed, toward my nightstand, but the bracket of his legs around mine keeps him trapped. Grunting softly, he rolls and yanks it open. Things rattle around inside as he digs, eventually coming out with a small bottle of lube.

He holds it up with his back to me. My gaze follows the elongated curve of his spine and over the swell of his ass cheeks mere inches away. An ass I was just buried inside of. So hot and tight and impossible—“You were really gonna make me use lotion?” Abel demands.

“Forgot it was in there,” I reply honestly. That makes him laugh for some reason. “What?”

“Nothin’, babe. You gonna watch me?” he asks coyly as he drops back on the mattress, spreading his legs wide around my hips. I stare down at him.

“As opposed to… what?”

Abel pops the cap and squeezes the liquid on his fingers. His hand snakes between his legs, forearm dragging along his cock as his fingers disappear in his cleft. He wriggles for a moment. “Just didn’t think you’d want to see, is all.” His answer is softer, unsure.

“I thought I made it clear your hole is mine.” Mine… he’s mine.

His exhale is loud between us. “Yeah.”

I lightly slap his pretty, blushed face again—because I can—then reach down to grab his throat on a gasp. His pulse is erratic, chugging just beneath his skin as his arm starts to tremble. I stare down between us, dry-mouthed as our cocks brush with every small gyrate against his hand.

My hips drop down, trapping Abel’s arm beside our dicks. His fingers graze my balls, making me shudder as he breathes in my ear, “I can’t stretch when you pin me.”

With a scoff, I pull up and away, widening my stance as I sit on my haunches. Staring down at Abel, my mouth curves into a smile. Such a grungy little runt.

“I said I wanted you wet—not stretched.”

His lips part on an “O” before he nods. “I am.”

And that’s all I need to grab my shaft and direct myself back into his tunnel of heat. There’s resistance when I push against his ring. Abel grunts and shifts his hips, fingers catching against mine as he changes the angle.

With a breathy rasp, he says, “Try again.” I flush at his guidance. And I wish I could look at him, to see whatever it is he’s feeling, but as I press forward and Abel pushes out, I’m sucked inside, and it’s all lost from there.

“Jesus fuck,” I groan, choking on my heart as it slams inside my throat. Abel grunts softly. Beads of perspiration lick across his upper lip, so I reach down to swipe them with my tongue. He arches to catch my mouth.

“How’re you so tight?” I grit and smack my thighs to his ass, buried deep.

His breathy little, “Oh,” catches in his throat, even as it burns straight through me. Abel’s body is pliable and small beneath me, legs folded around my hips, heels dug into my lower back. Fingers scratch across my skin, individual trails of fire that only send me higher.

I’m lost in the motion of our bodies moving together. He meets every jarring thrust with a downward arch of his own. Nails imbed, teeth clash, tasting of copper and desperation. Breaths become one until there’s only the dance of demons buried in sex.

“Touch me,” he begs, dragging his tongue up my throat. He sucks on skin, and I return the favor—with much more teeth.

“Touch yourself,” I snarl, flicking his nipple ring before pulling up to taste his mouth. Saliva leaks between us, smearing around and joining the beads of sweat. The copious liquids make the glide that much easier. A harsh rut of need and hate.

“C-can’t reach,” he whines desperately as his fingers flex against my abs. I catch a tear as it slips out, dragging up over his lid to the barbell at the bridge of his nose. I tongue the silver on either side before making my way down to the permanently bruised hollow beneath his eye.

“Fuck.” I reach down and dig my fingers into his ass to roll us back over. The flip makes Abel gasp, and he clutches at my shoulders as I fall backward. The impact is jarring, and I can’t breathe as Abel takes it in stride, never slowing the momentum for a moment.

He’s less reserved this time. Not bothering to take it slow or make it last. My pretty little runt just takes what he wants and makes it good for me.

“Fuck, pup, that’s it.” Jesus, I really resisted this?

Hell, be damned. It’s worth it.

Abel mewls as he bounces on my dick, hands buried in his hair, head tossed back. His little cock bobs in the air between us, creating the sweetest little smack with every jarring impact of his ass to my thighs.

Every drop, he clenches his hole, cinching his ring tight around my base as he pulls back up, just to repeat the consuming vortex all over again.

My hands find their way to his concaved abdomen, and the trail of hair is just as thick but even softer than I thought it’d be. I drag my touch through and over, fingering his belly button, which makes his hips stutter in their movement.

He swats at my hand with a frown. “Don’t.”

“I’ll do what I want, and you’ll be a good pup to remember that.” The flash in his eyes, the impossible strangulation on my dick, proves just how much he loves that.

“Peris…” I find my way down his happy trail and into the hair at his groin, coiled and blonde and thick. Abel shudders at my touch, and when I graze the silky stretched skin of his shaft, it jerks against my knuckles as it pulses.

Cum spurts from his little hole and onto my stomach, hot and milky. “Oh, s-shit. Mmm.” His head rolls between his shoulders, sheets of white blanketing his face. I reach up to brush them away. Abel turns and catches my hand, smearing his lips over his spunk.

“Please come in me, baby. Wanna feel you inside me.” When his tongue darts out, hazy, molten eyes locked on mine, channel rippling as he rocks his way through his orgasm, my own smacks into me like a brick wall.

“Jesus Christ, runt,” I grunt, eyes rolling back when my dick jerks inside his ass, filling him just like he wanted.

When the room comes back to me, it’s in blurry flashes. White and pink, black and gray.

Weight shifts, and cold air hits my dick, making me hiss. The bed dips, drawing my focus. My head rolls to the right, watching Abel as he stands unsteadily beside me. I reach out to brush my knuckles over his scabs, turning to pick at one with the blunt edge of my nail.

With a huff, he pulls away, leaving my hand hanging limply in the air. His boxers are nothing but scraps as he pushes them off, where they stain my carpet.

It’s not until he turns his back on me that it hits me. He’s leaving.

My chest squeezes. “Where the fuck are you going?”

Abel glances over his shoulder, fingers wrapped around the doorknob. I rake my eyes over his naked body, at the glistening fluids covering him.

I can’t really explain the erratic thumping of my heart other than it’s the after-effects of coming so fucking hard.

“To bed.” His eyes dart to my clock. “It’s late.”

My brows furrow as I glance at the numbers behind me. When I look back to Abel, he’s gone, door snicking shut at his departure.

Hands in my sweaty hair, I pant up at the ceiling, skin still tingling with the overture and feeling too tight stretched over my sternum.

I wait with bated breath for it all to hit me. But after the twenty-ninth consecutive change of numbers on the clock, it finally hits me that this is all there is.

Not the inevitable shame and disgust I expected, but instead, a tender, gnawing loneliness.

“Well, fuck.”