30. Archer

M y words are bold, my heart racing, as I wait for his response, and I see the way his eyes darken with lust. The secrets and pain are not forgotten, but pushed aside for just a moment. My mind is still reeling from what he revealed, and there was so much more I wanted to ask, to know, but I know it will take time, and I don’t want to push him.

“What did I tell you about that name,” he finally breathes, the sound of his voice sending chills down my spine in anticipation, as he takes one final pull from the bottle of whiskey I brought for the game, before placing it down on the floor, and rising to his feet. “Do you want me to punish you, is that it?” he adds, taking a step towards me, and I tip my head back to meet his stare.

“I want you to do whatever you want with me,” I tell him truthfully, and the look in his eyes turns predatory, as his thumb comes up and brushes across my lips almost delicately.

“I need to shower first,” he tells me softly, looking like he doesn’t want to leave me, and I lean into his touch, forcing myself to stand, bringing our bodies against one another.

I can feel his erection against my own, my mouth watering at the thought of him being inside of me, and I clear my throat, as I demand, “Then lead the way.”

He watches me for a few more seconds, as if contemplating something, before he grips my hand in his and drags me toward the bathroom. Once there, he leans in and turns on the shower, before turning around to face me, and I can see his mind going to war with itself, and I know he wants to hide. I’m sure he finds it easier than facing whatever demons make up his past, but I want all of him, the good, the bad, and the fucking damaged, and I don’t care who knows it.

Reaching behind me, I pull off my shirt, dropping it to the ground, and then kicking off my shoes and reaching for my belt. I slowly strip off my clothes until I am bare before him, all the while keeping his stare locked on mine. Closing the distance between us again, I kiss him softly, until all I can taste is him. Then I move to slip past him toward the shower, but he grips my arm, holding me firmly in place, and when our eyes collide this time, his stare is almost blank.

He doesn’t say anything, but his hands shake as he lets go of me, reaching for the bottom of his workout top and slowly pulling it upwards, revealing his chiseled and scarred torso. With his eyes still on mine, he tosses it aside and shoves down his shorts, discarding his shoes at the same time, until he is completely naked apart from the chain around his neck. I hold his stare, knowing he expects me to survey his body, but I can’t look away from him, not at this moment. Not when he is trusting me with everything, and I know it could slip through my fingers at any moment.

Keeping my stare on his, I let my hand fold around his waist, pulling him against me, and bringing our cocks together. “Do you feel what you do to me, Daemon?” I whisper against him, my breath hot on his lips. “Do you feel how hard my cock aches for you? How my body fucking yearns for you? I want you, I want every single part of you,” I tell him softly, brushing his lips with mine, which means I feel his sharp gasp as our naked chests press together, and nothing has ever felt this fucking raw and real before.

Our kiss instantly deepens, and then we are fumbling with one another to get into the shower, my body crashing into the hard tile with a wet thump. The scalding spray is nothing in comparison to how hot he makes me, as he fucks my mouth with his, and when our wet bodies slide together, I know I never want this to end. We kiss and grind as one, until I feel like I might explode, and when we pull apart we are both panting and breathless.

Daemon backs away a step, breathing heavily, his eyes blinking beneath the spray of the water, and I can tell he is trying his best to handle this. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, and for the first time since he took off his shirt, I let my eyes drop down his body. The ink on his arms swirls up across his shoulders and down his chest, spilling onto his ribs, but that’s not where my attention lies. No, instead it’s on the countless scars hiding within the ink littering his torso, too many to even count, as bile crawls up the back of my throat at the sight of them.

Fuck. It’s worse than I remember, and if his father wasn’t already in prison, I would drag him there myself.

For once Daemon doesn’t hide, even as my stare burns into his skin. Instead, he keeps his head held high and shoulders straight, letting me get my fill of him, until I feel like I can’t fucking see straight. There are so many fucking marks, each one worse than the last, and my mind can’t comprehend any of them. How could someone do this to a person? How could a father do this to his son?

“Is it as bad as I’m thinking?” I seethe, my anger barely restrained, and somehow my question brings a humorless laugh out of him.

“Probably worse,” he sighs, and fuck, my hands itch to make someone pay, and I have to pull my stare away for a second to try and rein in my emotions, and my eyes land on his shower gel and a wash cloth.

Taking a chance, I reach for them both, drenching the cloth in soap and letting it bubble up in the water, before I bring my gaze back to him. Daemon is still watching me in wonder, and I close the small distance between us, slowly holding up the wash cloth in silent question, and hold my breath. He looks between the two, contemplating what I’m asking, before he nods ever so slightly. Blowing out a breath, I bring the cloth to his shoulder, gently pressing it down onto his skin, and noting his sharp intake of breath.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I promise, Daemon, I will never hurt you,” I whisper, the spray of the shower almost washing my words away, but from the look in his eyes, I can tell he heard every single one.

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t push me away either, so I take that as a win, slowly starting to slide the cloth across his body, gently cleaning his skin. I wash his arms, his shoulders, his chest, and his stomach, not lingering on his scars, before slowly making my way behind him to do his back. There are even more marks there, and it takes everything in me not to react at the sight of them, silently continuing my mission to clean him, and by the time I circle back round to his front, his eyes are rimmed in red.

I open my mouth to say something, but he silences me with a kiss, before stepping back and rinsing all the soap from his body, all the while never breaking my stare. Only when he is completely clean does he finally open his mouth.

“I’ll meet you in bed,” he murmurs, brushing another soft kiss to my lips, before pushing past me and leaving me alone under the hot spray.

My cock is hard and aching for him, but I know he needs a minute, so I take the opportunity to wash off my own body, trying not to wallow in all the pain he must have gone through. He doesn’t want or need my pity, and I don’t want to give it to him. Instead, I want to show him how the marks on his body mean nothing to me, and they don’t change how much I want him.

Turning off the shower, I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist, hanging back for another minute before I leave the bathroom, expecting to find him fully clothed and closed off again. Instead, I find him sitting on the end of his bed, in the exact spot that I vacated earlier, still in just his towel, and sipping from the liquor bottle as he waits for me.

The sight of him takes my breath away, and it’s only when his eyes meet mine, that I understand just what he meant about the first time we met. I always chalked it down to my stupid freshman self having a threesome for the first time, that his presence in that moment and the hatred that followed was what had me captivated, but I was wrong, it’s just him. Daemon Forbes in all his dark and disturbed glory, calling to me like a damn siren, and I have been completely entrapped by him since that very first night.

When I walk toward him, his eyes meet mine before slowly trailing down my body, which, like his, is covered only by the towel around my waist. Tipping more of the liquor in his mouth he watches me closely, but as I open my mouth to speak, he is already shaking his head and beating me to it.

“The time for talking is over, Gray.” His words are nothing short of a command, as he dumps the bottle aside, and brings his gaze to the neatly tucked knot that keeps the towel around my waist. “First, I’m going to suck your cock,” he tells me, his voice drenched in so much dark lust that it has my dick springing to life. “You’re going to fuck my mouth until I can taste you dripping down the back of my throat, and then I’m going to fuck you, until your cock is hard once more, and I am spilling deep inside of you.”

I haven’t even opened my mouth to respond before he is tugging at the fabric of the towel roughly, pulling it from my skin as if the mere sight of it offends him. Then his hand is gripping the base of my cock in a tight hold, stroking me firmly, before leaning forward and licking the underside from root to tip. His tongue trails along the veins there, as if committing each of them to memory, before pulling back and swirling around my tip. Pre-cum floods his mouth, but he only does it again, slower this time, lapping my crown with attention until my cock is drenched in his spit.

“Fuck, Daemon,” I groan, reaching my hand up and fisting the back of his hair to prevent him from moving, and I swear I feel his smirk around my cock as he sucks me in deep. “You suck me so fucking good,” I praise, delighting in the way his eyes snap to mine at my words, as if they please him.

“Wait until you see how good I fuck you,” he grunts, before taking me to the back of his throat once more, and fuck, never have I wanted anything more.

I’ve lost count of how many girls I have fucked over the years, too many to remember, and even more who have fallen to their knees for me and worshipped me with their tongue. Yet not one of them has had my cock as hard or as aching as it is for him. With each stroke of his tongue, I fall deeper into the pleasure only he can give me, my hips meeting his mouth, as I am driven mad by my need for him.

His eyes are still on mine as he blindly reaches to the bed, and it’s only then I spot the lube and condoms he left there, and every part of me clenches in anticipation. He continues sucking me slowly, as he opens the bottle of lube and squeezes some onto his fingers, before tossing it back to the bed, and pulling me in even closer to him. Then one of his hands is back on my cock, while the other one reaches around and slides between my crease, instantly slathering my hole with the lube he just poured.

“Daemon,” I groan, long and deep, hitting the back of his throat, as one of his expert fingers slides into my ass.

“That’s it, baby, practice saying my name,” he purrs, lapping at my crown with his tongue, as his finger fucks my ass. “You’ll be screaming it soon.”

I tip my head back and give myself over to him, alternating between thrusting my cock into his mouth and forcing myself back onto his finger, until every part of me feels taut and ready to blow. He adds another finger, stroking me deep, and filling me so completely that I can’t even begin to imagine how his cock will compare, but fuck do I want it.

“More, Daemon, please,” I plead, desperate for him to take me, and again I feel his smile around my cock, as he bobs his head back and forth even more, sucking me harder and deeper, as a third finger slips into my ass, stretching me completely. “Oh fuck,” I grit, the burn sharp and quick, as I rock my hips against him, chasing the pain that I know he will turn to pleasure.

“Yes, good boy, fuck yourself on my hand,” he demands, grinding, twisting, and scissoring his fingers in and out of my ass, as I tighten my hold on his neck and begin to fuck his throat roughly.

It’s hot and messy, with spit and pre-cum spilling down his chin, as I chant his name on repeat, and all the while his eyes remain on mine. Like there is nothing in the world as fascinating as watching me falling apart for him, and it’s that look that pushes me over the edge. The dark intensity of his stare, so claiming and possessive, that I explode without warning, my cock going off like a damn bomb, as my cum sprays the back of his throat.

“Oh fuck, yes, fuck,” I yell, not caring if I am alerting the whole fucking campus to what is going on in here. Not when everything about him feels like home.

His fingers still fuck my hole, slow and deep, as he lets my cock fall from his mouth with a plop, and pushes to his feet, claiming my mouth in a searing hot kiss. I taste the saltiness of my release on his tongue, mixed with him, and I moan into his mouth, our tongues battling with one another until we are breathless, but still we don’t stop.

Daemon manhandles me in a way I never thought I would enjoy, but am quickly becoming addicted to, as he switches our position, pushing me back onto his bed, never once breaking our kiss. Our bodies mold together as if they are one, as we kiss and grind, all the while his fingers are still pumping in and out of me so perfectly.

When he pulls away to catch his breath, my hand grips his chin, forcing his head back and baring his throat to me. I kiss and suck at the skin of his neck, pulling obscene sounds from his mouth, as I plead with him for more. “Don’t stop, Daemon, please, I need you,” I beg, pulling more sounds from him, as my tongue laps at his pulse point, before trailing down to one of the scars on his collarbone. “So fucking beautiful,” I whisper against his skin, taking advantage of every bit of him on display for me. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, I need more,” I chant the words on repeat, savoring the way he leans into my touch, as if he is craving it as much as I am.

“I’m not even close to being done with you,” he gasps, slamming his lips back to mine and swallowing my groan, as he pulls his fingers from my ass and positions himself between my thighs.

When he pulls back, he is watching me with a dark look, a needy look, and fuck, I want him to look at me like this forever. My eyes greedily drink him in, as he pushes up onto his knees, and my hands shake, as I sit up and pull at his towel, meeting his stare, as I pull it from his skin and toss it to the side. Naked. He’s completely and beautifully naked, looking so fucking perfect, and so fucking mine, that I’m not sure what I did to deserve him.

Goosebumps rise on his skin, and I mildly wonder if he has ever shown himself to someone in this way. You are the exception. To everything . His words from earlier float back to me, and I bring my hands to the top of his chest, silently asking for permission. His nod is swift, quick, and I don’t hesitate to trail the pads of my fingertips across his collarbone, marveling at the ink and scarred skin there.

“I’m not even close to being done with you either,” I mutter, watching my fingers, as they trace every mark his father gave him, before meeting his stare, and finding nothing but heartbreak. “These scars don’t define you, Daemon, and if I wasn’t so desperate to have you inside of me, I would take my time showing you exactly what each of them does to me.” To emphasize my point, I lean forward and tease one of his larger scars with my tongue, swirling the raised skin and pretending his pained gasp doesn’t slice right through me.

I hope his father dies in that fucking cell.

Daemon’s skin burns under my affection, and when his hand fists my hair, pulling my head back, his gaze is nothing but predatory now. “You’re desperate for me, are you, Gray?” I nod in his hold, accepting a savage kiss, letting him bruise my lips until they are no doubt red and swollen.

Then he releases my hair and pushes me hard, forcing my back to his mattress, as he rises up on his knees. His huge frame towering over me, as he reaches for a condom and rips it open with his teeth. I watch with rapt attention, as he fists his hard and leaking cock and sheaths it, before drenching it in lube, all the while never taking his eyes off me.

When he settles back between my thighs, I feel the heavy weight of him against my hole, so foreign and familiar at the same time, and I hold my breath in preparation. His hand comes out and I bare my neck, expecting the hand necklace he has become accustomed to giving me, but instead his thumb brushes across my lips delicately.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly, and fuck, everything about him undoes me completely, but nothing more than having him naked and hard between my thighs, while still pausing to ask permission.

Leaning up, I steal another kiss from his lips, pulling him in even closer to me, as I purr, “Yes, I’m sure. Fuck me, Daemon, please.”

His answering groan is growled against my mouth, as he grits, “You have no fucking idea what you do to me when you beg like that.” His cock slides into my hole just a little, and I gasp at the pressure, but he’s there in an instant, reassuring me. “It’s okay, baby, you can take me, I know you can, just breathe and let me in,” he tells me, kissing me softly, as his hips inch forward a little more, and fuck, I have never felt so full.

“Daemon,” I choke his name out, making his jaw tighten, his hands flying to my hips to keep me still when I try to get him deeper, and I exhale out my annoyance, as his chain scrapes along my collarbone.

“That’s it, Golden Boy, let me in,” he grits softly, pushing a little deeper inside, as his hand comes between us to stroke my already hard again cock. “Look at you, already hard and leaking for me again, and I'm not even all the way in yet.” His words are paired with a long firm stroke of my dick, while he slides another inch into my ass, and fuck, I don’t think I have ever been edged like this before.

“Daemon, I need you, please,” I beg, not caring how desperate I sound, and from the strained look in his eyes, I know it’s taking everything in him to show some restraint. I kiss him again, forcing my tongue in his mouth until he is groaning against my lips, and only then do I add, “Fuck me, Forbes.”

Just like I knew it would, my taunt works, and he slams inside of me, my lungs almost caving in from the force of his thrust, but I don’t care if I die right now. At least I would go to hell knowing what it feels like to be ripped apart by his cock. A gasp tears from my throat, my vision blurring a little, as I try to adjust to his dick inside of me, nothing could have prepared me for how he feels. I don’t think I have ever been this turned on in my life, yet the second he bottoms out inside of me, his pained stare meets mine in desperation.

“Are you okay?” he grits, leaning up on his elbows to look down at me, but all it does is give me a better view of him finally buried deep inside of me. “Did I hurt you?” he asks, looking terrified at the thought, but I’m not sure how I can even catch my breath, let alone speak.

Yes it hurts, it burns like a bitch, but still all I want is more. More of him, more of us, more of his fucking cock, and when I finally find my voice, it’s only for another plea.

“You have to move, baby,” I whisper with a smirk, kissing him softly, and pulling his head back to mine. “I can take it, Daemon, I can take all of it, so please, don’t hold back.”

His stare holds mine captive, searching it for the possibility of a lie, but it’s one he won’t find. Because he might be the one who is broken, but I’m the one he is healing, one kiss at a time.