34. Bohdi

Chapter thirty-four

Bohdi

I had every intention of coming down Brayden's throat and then walking out and leaving him hanging at this party. Gagging for more. But I can't, not when he stares up at me on his knees, tears streaming down the sides of his eyes and bits of my cum dripping down his chin. I grab him by the scuff of his sweater, hauling him to his feet as I rip off the mask and smack my lips against his. He groans in my mouth, threading his fingers into my hair as I overpower him with my tongue, tasting the sweet tangy taste of myself on him, sending me into a wild frenzy.

I grip his jaw in my hand, pushing my tongue into his mouth deep enough he chokes on it. I want to consume his entire being. I want his world to start and end with me. I want him to wrap his hand around his dick every night and come to thoughts of me.

Having Brayden on his knees with my dick in his mouth and my cum dripping from his lips has awakened a beast. This need, want and obsession are not feelings I've ever experienced.

I wish I had a stamp so I could brand him.

He's mine.

He's fucking mine.

Reluctantly, I pull my mouth away from his. "I need you, Bray," I murmur, his intoxicated, hooded gaze shifting lazily between my eyes, as if he's just rousing from sleep and needs a moment to process my words.

"You have me," he breathes, his tongue tracing the edge of his lips, eliciting a groan from me as I nip at it, capturing it between my teeth. I sink my teeth in, eliciting a wince as he attempts to retreat. When he finally pulls away, blood oozes from his lips, and I eagerly follow, lapping up every drop.

"You've awakened a primal beast within me, Bray," I murmur, my tongue tracing the contours of his lips. His mews have my dick hardening again. "Make up something to Kal and Tray as to why you need to go home," I add, planting kisses along his jawline. "Tonight, you're coming home with me," I murmur as he retreats, his eyes wide.

"Your p-place?" he stammers, his shocked gaze darting between mine.

"My place," I reply with a smirk, savoring his bewilderment for a moment longer. He nods eagerly,

"O-OK," he stutters again, and I find it endearing. I offer him a knowing smile.

"Meet me outside. The Chevy is parked down the street." As I approach the door and grasp the handle, I hesitate, pivoting to face a flustered Brayden. His gaze locks onto mine. "Stay away from Lance," I warn, narrowing my eyes. Brayden smiles and nods in agreement.

"I will," he quietly whispers. I shouldn't, but my eyes glance down to an extremely hard Brayden. He obviously sees where my eyes drop as he rearranges himself but knowing I did that to him, sets off another reel of possessive thoughts within me. I've felt like Brayden is slowly slipping through my fingers recently. I need him to know he's mine and nothing is going to change that. No, stupid words in the heat of the moment are going to change how much I want him and how I feel about him. I snap my attention away from him, putting on my mask and leaving the room quickly. If I don't, I fear I may claim him on that stranger's bed, and I don't want my first time with him to be at a frat party. No way.

Observing Brayden stride toward my car with an uncaring swagger, he exudes an air of cool composure. Yet, I'm aware of the demons that haunt him—the relentless search of perfection as a brother. As I open the car door, he hops in, grinning at me, and I find myself frozen. Leaning across the console, I grasp the back of his neck, our lips meeting in a leisurely dance. I crave more of him. When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his.

"You're dangerously addictive," I chuckle, drawing a bright smile from Brayden, the one I adore. "I've missed that smile," I confess.

"Did you delete the picture?" he asks, a frown creasing his brow.

I smirk. "No, but it's not the same when I know you're annoyed with me."

He nods, gaze downcast. "I'm not anymore," he whispers, sealing his words with a kiss.

Pulling away, I state, "All right, we'd better get going. If I linger any longer, we won't leave this spot for the rest of the night." Brayden smiles shyly, glancing out the window as I drive away.

As we drive, Brayden remains silent, gazing out the window. But I notice the nervous bounce of his leg, a telltale sign of his inner turmoil. I keep one hand on the wheel, my other hand gripping his thigh.

Abruptly, he snaps his head toward me, eyes locking onto my hand. "I can drop you off at your place," I offer, my voice low and steady. "You don't have to come back to mine." I'm happy taking him back to his dorm, but no way is he going to that party.

His brows furrow, and he shakes his head. "No, no," he insists. "I want to come back to your place." His vulnerability tugs at me. "It's just Kal." He sighs. "I tell him and Tray everything. Tray mostly stays quiet, except for a few snide remarks. But Kal worries, and I think he suspects something is wrong. I've been avoiding him whenever he brings up ‘Sir,' afraid he might start digging. He shrugs. "I guess I'm worried that whatever this is will end if someone finds out." His gulp is audible, and his head drops.

"If anyone discovers our secret," I say firmly, "we'll handle it." My grip tightens on his leg. A silent promise. I steal a quick glance at Brayden, and he smiles, nodding. His trust in me fuels my determination.

"Random question," I interject, my voice softer now. "What was with the blinking you and Tray were doing earlier?" The curiosity strikes me, and I'm intrigued to learn more about their unspoken language.

Brayden laughs, a raw sound that resonates with shared memories. I catch him in my peripheral vision, shaking his head. "Tray came up with this system when we were kids," he explains. "If we're ever in danger, we communicate through blinks—it stuck with us, I guess." He chuckles again, but there's an edge to it. "It's been a while since he used it."

"So, three very obvious blinks mean . . . ?" I prompt, waiting for his answer.

"Blink three times to let me know you're OK," he says, his voice steady. "Blink twice to signal that you're not, and I'll go all out on whoever's causing trouble. That's our motto—the unspoken pact between brothers. Bex was a part of it too." He grins once more, a mix of happiness and vulnerability.

"I like it," I murmur. It warms my heart to know that Brayden has good people around him—people who will protect him when needed, even if it means breaking the rules.

As we pull up to my house, the anticipation crackles in the air. It's nothing extravagant—a three-bedroom detached house in a humble neighborhood near the college. But Brayden's wide-eyed gaze tells me it means it's more than just a three-bedroom house.

"Wow," he gasps, staring up at the house.

"It's OK," I reply, stepping out of the car. Brayden follows suit, tucking his hands into his blood-stained hoody. We walk up the driveway together. Once inside, he takes in the open space, eyes darting around.

"Bohdi, this is amazing." His words hit me. To me, it's any old house, but I've glimpsed where he grew up—the struggle, the sacrifices. This must feel significant to him.

"Yeah, it's nice," I agree, not wanting him to feel overwhelmed. We step into the open-plan living room, the kitchen and dining area seamlessly connected.

"I'll give you a tour in a bit," I say, my voice low. "But first, can I go and shed this?" I gesture to my cape. "I feel weird."

Brayden laughs, nodding. "You look hot, not weird," he teases. Our eyes lock, and the intensity between us ignites.

"You think I look hot?" I challenge, tilting my head. I love when he blushes, but I also crave the fire in his eyes—the solid confidence that draws me in.

His voice, husky and intimate, he murmurs, "You always look hot." I step closer, my fingers tracing the contours of his neck, sensing the rapid pulse beneath my touch.

"Are you nervous?" I ask, my lips brushing against his skin.

"No," he denies, but his throat bobs with a gulp, and his pulse races, suggesting otherwise.

"I am," I confess. His eyes widen, and I lean in, our lips almost touching.

"Why?" His hoarse voice sends shivers down my spine. The answer hangs unspoken between us, a promise of want.

"Brayden," I whisper, my voice a raw confession. "The ache to possess you completely—it's unbearable. And when my lips find yours, I won't give in. Not tonight. Not ever."

His eyes widen, flickering between mine, and then his mouth claims mine. A storm of hunger and heat. I cling to him, fingers digging into his hips, pulling him impossibly closer. His touch trails up my spine, igniting sparks along nerve endings.

"Brayden," I rasp against his lips, surrendering to the intoxicating feel of his lips. "I need to know this is what you want."

He breaks away, confusion etching lines on his face. "I crave you," he rasps, lips mapping a path down my neck, leaving a trail of fire. "More than I've ever craved anything." His whispered words are the spark that sets my restraint ablaze—a fire consuming every last vestige of self-control. Without hesitation, I guide Brayden toward my room, the air thick with anticipation. Once inside, I press him backward until the edge of the bed catches him, and he sinks onto the mattress.

His eyes—those hungry, primal orbs feast upon me. I raise the cape, revealing my skin, and his gaze traces over my inked chest. His breath hitches as his eyes move lower, my dick poking out the top of my boxers.

I drag my boxers down, noticing my hands are trembling. My nerves, electric, insistent pulse through me. Brayden rises, stripping out of his clothes and before I know it, we're both standing in front of each, completely naked and rock hard, our breaths colliding in the charged space between us. I step closer, then our lips meet again. This time is slow, passionate. I put everything into this kiss. What's about to happen? Everything that's led up to this moment. It's what I want, and I know it's what Brayden wants. Brayden slowly pulls back and drops himself on to the bed, his dick standing up straight. I lean down, our lips meeting again, becoming more urgent. Our tongues tangle and the vibrations in my mouth from Brayden's throaty groan send a shiver through me. I lower myself and when mine and Brayden's dick touches, I turn into a feral beast. I rub myself against him with urgency as he claws at my back, pulling me close as possible.

"Fuck, Brayden." I grunt.

"Bohdi, I haven't." His eyes stare wide up at me as I slow down, already feeling as if I'm about to come.

"You haven't what?" I frown, wondering what he's about to say.

"I haven't bottomed before." He exhales, and I instinctively lean away, my expression registering surprise.

"Oh," escapes my lips, though I'm uncertain why, but I don't really know what I'm doing. I've been watching gay porn the last week just to get an idea of how it works, and I have to say I don't think I could take it in the ass. Not yet anyway.

"But, I want to. With you." He chuckles as the words tumble out. "My first time, I mean." My heart swells. He wants his first time to be with me and I've never felt this happy. A tidal wave of emotions rushes through me as my lips meet his one more time, lazily lapping him up, wishing this night would never end. I want to take my time with him. I lean up on my knees, my dick standing to a sharp point which Brayden's eyes immediately take notice of.

"I—uh, did some research." I mutter. Brayden bites his lip, trying to suppress a laugh. "Hey, don't mock me," I smirk.

"I think it's hot you done research." He frowns. "Well, as long as it was for me, you did the research for." I lean forward, brushing my lips against his.

"Who else?" I raise an eyebrow.

I lean over to the nightstand and open the second drawer, pulling out a small tube of lube.

Brayden's eyes follow my every move. I sit between his open leg, his dick fucking straining and I'm tempted to lean down and lick the head, but I know once I start, I won't stop. When he comes, I want to be inside him. I uncap the lube and squeeze a small amount on my finger.

My eyes flick up to meet Brayden, he pants, his mouth open as he lifts his legs up slightly for me, baring himself fully.

"I want to make sure you're ready for me first." My voice is raspy as I stare down at his untouched hole. "If it gets too much—"

"Bohdi, please shut up and touch me," Brayden begs, squirming. As soon as I touch his hole, my dick jumps for joy like it's congratulating me for touching him. My balls tingle just from touching him. How am I ever going to fuck him without coming? Fuck. I push one finger slowly into him.

"Shit, fuck," Brayden mutters. I push it in until my finger is completely buried, knuckles deep, and pull it back out, repeating the same thing again. Brayden squirms.

"You OK?" I ask.

"Yeah, just keep going." He pants as if he's been out running. I add the second finger and as soon as the tip is both in, I feel him tighten around my fingers and my dick leaks pre-cum. I stare down at my dick as a bead of cum drips down the side.

Jesus Christ.

"Ommmffuckkkkk." Brayden's incoherent words and moans are doing things to my dick, because it fucking bounces up and down like a fucking cheerleader, cheering for Brayden's moans. I push my fingers in deeper, curling them slightly, like I read about.

"Jesfuckchrist." Brayden's words and moans spear me on as I pull them out and push them back in, picking up the speed.

"Fuck, fuck," Brayden grits out.

"Does it feel OK?"

"It burns a bit, but when you—" I curl my finger as Brayden's breath hitches. "That, do that again," he begs, his eyes squeezed shut. I curl my fingers and keep rubbing on the spot.

"That . . . I need it . . . Fuck . . . Bodhi . . . please . . . more," Brayden whines, my dick weeps with every sound and I don't know how I'm going to hold out.

"Come!"

Brayden gasps. I pull my fingers out as ropes of cum soak Brayden's abs.

"Ahhhhh, fuck!" Brayden rasps as I push my fingers back in. His dick continues to pulse, cum soaking his abs. I pull my fingers out and stare down at the fucking masterpiece that lies before me. Before I can even think about it, my hand comes up to his abs, rubbing my finger through the ropes of cum and bring it up to my mouth, sucking on my finger. Brayden's drunk looking eyes ablaze as he stares at me.

"So, fucking sweet," I rasp, leaning down and capturing his lips. "You come so good for me, Bray," I whisper into his lips as he moans into my mouth.

"Please, fuck me." His eyes—once a tranquil blue, are now transformed into a deep, thirsty black—lock onto mine with an intense lust. The air between us becomes charged, almost electric. I can hear the faint, ragged sound of his breathing, feel the warmth radiating from his skin. As his eyes slowly close, he breathes out, his voice a desperate whisper. "Please."

"I love when you beg me."