Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

I crash backward in the seat as he pins me, his lips finding mine. Our teeth clack together, and I taste my own blood from my lips. His hands tear at my clothes and delve under, tracing over my skin and branding me with his claim. I gasp into his mouth, arching up and begging for more.

He sits back abruptly, his eyes so dark they are black. He watches me, and I smirk.

"You won me, now what are you going to do with me?" I taunt, and it gets him moving. His hands frame my face and drag me up so I'm on my knees.

"Just looking at what's mine, rich boy," he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over my face. I was wrong. His eyes aren't black. Up close, they are on fire, flaming with desire.

"Clothes off, pretty boy—everything but my jacket. I want you wearing that while I fuck you."

I shiver, loving this possessive streak in him. I'm not ashamed to admit it makes me harder than I've ever been.

He reaches for my shirt when I'm too slow, and he helps me struggle from it before he slides his jacket back onto my shoulders. I reach for my pants and undo them before shoving them down, then I lie back and slide them off, kicking them away until I'm naked on his back seat.

His eyes devour me, his lips parting when they land on my hard dick. I reach down and palm myself, squeezing as I stroke, and he watches me, his chest heaving. Suddenly, he smacks my hand away. "You don't get to touch yourself, rich boy, not when you're with me."

Groaning, I lean up and search for his mouth again, needing that brutal edge. He gives it to me, kissing me hard as his hands slide up my thighs and grip me. Desire courses through me as I groan into his mouth, lifting my hips as I thrust my cock into his hands.

"Please, Anders," I beg, not above it when I need him this badly.

I've wanted him all this time, and it's been driving me crazy. I want more. I want it all. He looks nervous, though, as he sits back, releasing me. This isn't my first time, but it's his, and I need to remember that. I shouldn't push him no matter how much I want him.

"Alek." I cup his cheeks as I lean up, our faces inches apart so he can focus on my words. "We don't have to do this if you aren't ready."

"You think I'm scared? No, rich boy, I'm fucking frozen with how goddamn beautiful you look spread over my back seat. I've never wanted anyone as much in my entire fucking life, so yeah, maybe I'm scared I'm going to fuck this up or that I'm going to hurt you with how much I want you." He says it so confidently, so proudly, that I nearly come on the spot.

My eyelashes flutter as a coy smile curves my lips at his declaration. "Not possible, Anders. I'll like it however I can get it. Hard, painful, soft—I want it all. You don't think I want a man like you without wanting the pain that comes with it? Baby, you hit me when you kissed me, and I went home and jacked off. Your actions and words are always laced with venom, and I love it. Sink it into me, fucking fill me with it, and fill my body with agony. I'll beg you to keep going. Whatever you dish out, Anders, I can take it," I promise as I run my lips down his throat. "Now take your clothes off. I want to see you. I want your muscles on display for me while you fuck me."

He opens the door with a groan and slides out as I sit up, watching as he removes his shirt and throws it into the front before shoving his jeans and boxers down, letting me look at his large, hard cock. It's leaking for me and so thick and long, I have to grip my shaft to stop myself from coming at the sight. He's going to feel so fucking good inside me.

I can't look away as he crawls inside and over my body as I fall back.

My eyes feast on him as he leans above me, his arms bunching with the movements, and his abs rub across my cock. He's so fucking beautiful, and I tell him so as I kiss him. "You can have me, baby, any way you want. You want me on my front?—"

"Uh-uh, on your back, rich boy. I want to see your pretty face when I take what's mine," he says, and shit if my heart doesn't fucking clench at that not so innocent warning.

Lying back for him, I slide my hand up his thick, muscular thigh, liking the way the hair tickles my palm before I grip his long length and guide him between my legs.

His eyes widen, and he reaches down, scrambling across the floorboards for something without looking away, and when he lifts a bottle, I smirk. He blushes hard. "I have been researching. I thought we might need this."

"And you kept it here?" I grin, tightening my hand on his dick until he groans, bowing over me.

"Enough talking," he snaps and uncaps the bottle, drizzling the cold lube across his fingers. He reluctantly pulls his cock away from me as his wet fingers slide over my dick, then my balls and lower, pressing against my hole. He glances down, watching his movements, and I spread my legs wider, lifting them so they are on his shoulders.

He groans, slipping his digits inside me, and I close my eyes, my back arching as he innocently prods my prostate. My cock throbs in pleasure as he slides his fingers in and out, working in a third, all while watching me with obsession and hunger in his gaze.

"No more," I beg. "I can't take any more. I need you inside me. I need your cock, not your fingers."

Snarling, he yanks his fingers out of my ass and squirts the lube on his cock, and we guide him to my ass together. Our eyes meet once more as he hesitates. "I can take you, baby. Trust me . . . Fill me . . ."

"I'll try to be gentle," he stutters as he pushes into me, both of us groaning at the feeling. The sharp discomfort only lasts a second as he slides deeper before pulling out and rocking his hips forward.

"I don't want gentle, baby. I want you, brutal and hard. Fuck me," I order, placing my hands on his shoulders and digging my nails into his skin. He hisses in pain, his hips snapping forward in retribution, filling me to the brim with his huge cock, and I cry out.

"Shit, sorry, pretty boy?—"

"Don't stop!" I implore, lifting my hips to take him deeper, and he groans in response. My eyes open, locking on his brutal face, and his eyes are focused on his cock as he pulls from my ass and slides back in, making me feel so fucking full I can barely breathe. Each time he fills me, he hits my prostate, and I dig my nails in deeper.

"Look at you." His voice is filled with awe as he thrusts harder, filling me until the car is rocking with the force. "Fuck, pretty boy, you are goddamn perfection. You were made to be under me, taking my dick."

"Do I feel good?" I ask, my heart hammering in my chest as I slide my hands greedily across his exposed muscles, pinching his nipples and watching him snarl above me.

"Hot, so fucking hot and tight." One hand hits the ceiling of his car as he thrusts before he groans and drops lower, covering my body.

His mouth slants over mine once more in a blazing, possessive kiss. I kiss him back, eating at his mouth as our bodies move. Pleasure spirals through me, my cock rubbing against his abs, leaking all over them as I rock my hips. Whining into his mouth, I push him up, needing to breathe. I turn my head, and he bites my neck brutally before sucking.

"You feel so good, pretty boy." His voice is a wicked rasp, filling the interior of the rocking car. "You're never getting away from me now. You're mine. You're wearing my fucking mark, and I'm going to stain this ass so no one else can have it," he says as he lifts his torso again, blocking more of the light as he fucks me. His thrusts become brutal and hard, hurting even as they feel so good, I bite my lip until I taste blood.

I watch his biceps flex with the movements, his fingers digging into my muscles as he snarls my name.

My hand slides up his shoulder and around the back of his neck, feeling the solid muscle there as I tug him down for another fierce kiss.

I buck my hips, needing more.

Sensations assault me—the feeling of his huge dick pounding into me, his hands trailing over my body, his eyes pinning me beneath him as we break apart. It's too much.

"Alek," I beg, closing my eyes as I grip my cock and stroke it. I can feel him watching, and he swells inside my ass to the point of pain. His thrusts turn vicious, uncoordinated as he rams into me, forcing himself deeper.

It hurts so fucking much.

I love it.

My balls draw up with pleasure, and I can't hold back anymore. "Alek!" It's a hoarse cry, a warning.

"Come for me, pretty boy, let me see it," he demands above me like my avenging angel.

My hips buck, and my shout fills the car as my cock jerks, throbbing in time with my heart as I come, shooting hot ropes of my release all over my chest and his.

His palm smears it across my heaving chest before he lifts his hand and licks it clean, then he drops it to the seat and fills me twice more.

"Alek." I part my legs wider. "Come inside me. Let me feel it."

It's all the encouragement he needs, and he cries out in the next second, his cock jerking inside me. It pulses with his release as he fills me until I feel it dripping down us.

His hips rock, pushing him deeper, and then he collapses above me, his weight almost too much. Smiling happily, I wrap my legs and arms around him, uncaring about the mess, and kiss his head and face as I stroke his back .

"That was—" He lifts his head slightly as he searches my gaze.

"Incredible," I offer breathlessly, and our lips come together in the dark, our hands sliding over each other's bodies leisurely as we explore. When we break apart to breathe, we are both smiling.

He cups my face and brushes back some of my sweaty hair. "I adore you, pretty boy."

Rolling my lips inwards, I search his eyes, letting some of my truth leak out in the darkness of his car. "I adore you too."

Alek's car is still steamed up inside by the time we pull up to a cute two-story house. He gives me a knowing look, his eyes dropping down my body and heating again. "Uh-uh, let's get inside before you throw me in your back seat again." I grin. I'm so happy. I got everything I wanted tonight.

I expected him to take me home, but he gruffly declared I was staying at his house. I'm not going to complain about that since my dorm is cramped and I don't want Tommy's questions all night. Besides, spending the night in Alek Anders's bed? Fuck yes, sign me up, even if it's just to sleep next to him.

"Come on, rich boy." He gets out, and I follow him up the three concrete steps to the door. There are plants and flowers in boxes outside of the porch with a welcome mat that reads "Fuck off."

I laugh, and he grins as he unlocks the door. When I follow him in, he lifts his fingers to his lips in a shush gesture. "Alice is here. She'll be asleep, and she gets cranky if you wake her."

I nod and stay silent as he locks up, grabbing us some water as I linger in the entryway. To the left is a small, cozy living room with a huge TV and leather couches. There's also a coffee table with flowers on it and pictures on shelves with books. The hallway in front of me leads to a kitchen I can see from here, done in soft greens. The walls are paneled with wood, with more pictures hanging on them. I squint into the dark, seeing Alek and Alice in them from different ages. It's totally not what I was expecting, and as he takes my hand and leads me upstairs, I smile.

It's fucking cute. The second floor is decorated in pastels and has three doors—one closed, one open to show a bathroom, and the other partially open at the end of the hall. He pushes inside the last, hitting a switch with his elbow and holding the water so he doesn't have to let go of my hand.

It's his bedroom, with a king-sized bed pushed against the back wall under the window, perfectly made sheets spread over the top. There's a bench at the end with boots underneath, a TV on the opposite wall, and a desk to the left covered in mechanic books and car diagrams. Posters of different cars hang on the walls, and there is a dresser to the right of the door. There's even a soft blue rug on the floor, and as he kicks the door shut behind me, I look around. He hands me a water, and I take a sip as he heads over to his dresser, taking off his shirt and shoving his jeans down. Wearing nothing but his boxers, he roots around in a drawer before pulling out a black shirt.

"Here." He throws me the shirt. "You can sleep in mine."

I slip mine off and hang up his jacket before sliding his shirt on. It's massive on me but comfy as hell, and when he comes toward me, his eyes darkening, I can't help but blush. "You look good in my shirt, rich boy," he murmurs, grabbing my hips before he smacks my ass. "Get into bed, you have school tomorrow."

"Yes, Daddy," I tease as I climb in, but he smacks me until I scoot over so I'm under the window. "Is that your side?" I tease.

"Nah, I sleep in the middle," he replies as he plugs both of our phones in and goes to turn off the light. "But this way, I can protect you," he says. He doesn't even realize what he said, but my heart takes flight as I slip under the covers and lay my head on his pillow as he plunges us into darkness.

I feel the bed dip as he gets in, turning to face me. Our hands are inches away on the pillow, so I close the distance, linking them. His fingers twine with mine as he watches me. His face is in shadows, but I can still see his beauty.

He watches me for a moment before the dark seems to make him brave and vulnerable—or maybe it's what we shared tonight. I don't know, but it's a different side of him.

"When did you realize you . . ." He trails off, looking unsure.

"Liked boys?" I question with an arched brow, and his chin dips in a nod as I smile.

"I was young, maybe eleven or twelve," I murmur. "Some guy kissed me on a dare, and I realized I didn't hate it. I guess I always looked at both girls and guys growing up. I understood the attraction to both. It was hard to figure out by myself, since I thought it was shameful to want something I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it. My parents didn't like it," I scoff.

"You mentioned your parents before. You don't speak?"

"Not anymore. They couldn't accept me. They even tried to bribe me to be ‘normal,' as if liking boys wasn't." I laugh bitterly. "They are old-money rich, and they thought I was disgraceful. They tried everything to change me, and I did everything not to lose myself until I could get out of there. They love me in their own way, the person they want me to be, not the person I am. Sometimes I hate them, and sometimes I can't bring myself to. I guess I miss having parents, but having ones who don't love and accept you for who you are isn't better than having none."

He squeezes my hand. "They are stupid not to love you, Evan." I smile. "What was it like growing up open like that?"

"Hard," I admit, "especially in the small town I was from. There weren't many who understood or accepted me. Even the guys I dated mostly hid what they were in fear of the repercussions. I didn't like that, and I didn't see the point in hiding. It made me an outcast. I was bullied a lot, so I started taking lessons to learn how to protect myself. My dad once told me I couldn't be gay and weak. It was a barb, but I took it seriously. Still, I wouldn't change growing up like that. It shaped me into who I am, and now I can face anything. I can be anything as long as I am true to myself. It didn't mean it didn't hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt, you know?"

He watches me before reaching out and caressing my cheeks softly. "I wish I had half the strength you do, Evan," he says, speaking so softly I barely catch it. "I never had the chance to figure out who I was, nor the strength. My parents aren't around. They died when Alice was young, and she was suddenly just mine. I was her entire family. She lost her parents, and I had to be her rock, her safe place, so I put everything about me on the back burner, and I became what she needed. I didn't even realize that I had been drifting until I met you, just existing for her and not myself. I wasn't happy or sad, just here." He swallows, moving closer. "I need you to know, Evan, there's a reason I am the way I am . . . with this. With us." I frown, confused, and he groans. "I'm not ready to talk about it, but it's not you, okay? I wish I were as strong as you are, and I wish I could own it, but I can't. I hope I can one day."

"Shh." I kiss him. "I don't need you to tell me if you aren't ready, but when you are, I'll be here, and I'm glad you're finding out who you are and what makes you happy, Alek. You deserve it. You took on so much looking after Alice so young, providing for her, but you don't have to do it alone now."

"I've always been alone," he whispers.

"Not anymore," I reply, kissing his hand as I settle in. The smile he gives me is soft and sleepy, and we lapse into silence, lost in our own thoughts. I'm unable to look away from him, wondering what happened to make him so closed off from his own needs and wants. It's obvious Alek has been through a lot—losing his parents and becoming Alice's only family and parental figure so young—but the way he spoke, it's obvious there's something else to it. I hope someday he'll feel like he can share it with me. I hope I can be his safe space like he is for his sister. I have a feeling he needs that, and maybe I do too.

I want to be needed and wanted, when my whole childhood, I wasn't.

"Night, pretty boy," he mumbles, settling into the bed and tightening his grip on my hand as if he's afraid I'll disappear.

"Night, princess," I respond equally as softly, not wanting to disturb him.

As his eyes close, I can't look away. I'm obsessed with the peaceful look that transforms his face as he falls asleep. I didn't even realize how much tension he held in his face until now, as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. He admitted he feels like he does everything alone, and as I stare at his younger looking face, my heart breaks for the boy who had to grow up too fast. No wonder he's such an asshole.

I place a gentle kiss on his forehead, lingering for as long as I dare. "Sleep, princess. You aren't alone now. I'm here."