Donny scoffed, “That’s two things you’re fucking good at, Roland. Drinking and throwing me out."
“I don’t have a drinking problem,” Roland protested, still holding out the sketchbook.
“That’s debatable.”
Roland made a sound of disbelief deep in his throat, and Donny’s eyes widened.
“You make me want to fuck the attitude right out of you, you know that?” Donny snatched the notebook from Roland and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and fell open on the floor. Roland glanced at it, seeing pencil sketches on the two open pages that looked very much comparable to what he’d been trying to paint earlier.
“I’d like to see you try.”
Donny was quick, wrapping his fingers around Roland’s arm before he slammed his chest into the wall. Donny pressed one arm against Roland’s shoulder blades and used the other to tear his pants to his knees. Donny fumbled his own pants loose and thrust his semi-erect cock between Roland’s asscheeks.
Roland dropped his forehead against the wall and Donny speared his hand through Roland’s hair and pulled his head backward. “No, you’re going to be here for this.”
Chapter 9
Roland Kissed Him Back
Donny was furious.He should have known better. Roland was a stranger and Donny had been thinking with his ravenous dick when he said Pete could stay the day. And then Donny showed up at the penthouse to discover a drunken Roland had neglected Pete for so long he’d managed to bite his way almost all the way through the bandage on his paw. Donny was thankful Pete didn’t cut himself worse on the broken plate he’d been sitting on.
Donny tugged Roland’s hair back harder and sank his teeth into the tight skin of Roland’s neck. “Don’t fucking move,” Donny ordered, moving his shoulder off Roland’s back to dig a condom out of his pocket. He tore it open with his teeth and rolled it down his cock, then spit in his hand and stroked down his length. He spit again and dragged his fingers down the length of Roland’s crack before the fingernails of his other hand dug into Roland’s shoulder.
“Bend your knees.” Donny pressed harder into Roland’s shoulder until Roland did as he’d been told. When he was at the right height, Donny forced his cock inside Roland’s ass and thrust. Roland grunted and rolled his forehead back and forth on the wall.
Donny pulled a packet of lube out of his pocket and dripped it over his shaft when he pulled out, tossed the empty packet over his shoulder and then fucked back into Roland’s tight hole. He gripped Roland’s hair and tugged his head back from the wall,
“I said you were going to be here for this, Roland.” Donny grunted, wrapping his fingers around Roland’s throat and testing the hold. He fucked Roland against the wall until his calves started to cramp. He pulled out and pressed a hand between Roland’s shoulder blades, shoving him down to the floor.
Roland landed on his hands and knees with a thud, and Donny grabbed his head and pressed his face into the stack of canvases that Donny had kicked over earlier. He slammed his dick back inside and seized Roland’s hip with his hand.
“Were you trying to paint this, Roland?” Donny fucked him harder. “Was it not fucking memorable enough, or were you too drunk to remember it?”
“Harder,” Roland grunted, forcing his head to the side, out of Donny’s hold. There was a blue smear of paint across his cheek.
“Yeah, you say that a lot.” Donny pulled out. “Roll over.”
Roland didn’t move.
“Roll the fuck over.” Donny pushed until he’d flipped over onto his back and then pressed back inside of Roland. “Fuck.” Donny dropped his chin and gripped Roland’s knees, bending his legs back. Roland lolled his head to the side and he reached up to pull Donny’s sketchbook out from underneath his hair.
Donny had brought his sketchbook over because he’d been eager to show Roland his sketches. He wasn’t a professional artist like Roland, but he was good. He’d wanted to show Roland what he’d been working on, tell him how inspired he’d been. Explain the way he struggled to find a descriptor vivid enough to detail the depths of Roland’s eyes.
Donny grabbed his sketchbook from Roland’s hand and threw it across the room. “We’ll talk about that later. I’m not fucking done yet.” Donny reached down and grabbed Roland’s jaw between his fingers, forcing him to look up. He snaked his other hand between them and roughly jerked Roland’s cock.
Roland arched up and Donny’s cock grazed his prostate.
“Fuck,” Roland yelled out as he came, covering Donny’s hand with streams of cum. Roland’s channel convulsed around Donny’s cock, choking it with every tremor of his orgasm. The constriction around his dick triggered his own release, and he slammed himself deep inside of Roland before pulling out, tearing the condom off and standing up. Donny stood over Roland, with his cock in his hand and pointed straight for the stack of canvases he’d kicked over earlier and, with a groan, he painted them himself with spurts of hot, white cum.
“Fuck you, Roland,” Donny spat though clenched teeth, milking the last drops of cum from his flagging erection and then tucking his cock back inside his pants and buttoned up. He picked his sketchbook up from where it had fallen earlier and dropped it on Roland’s chest. Roland pushed himself to a sitting position and opened the notebook. Roland seemed very interested in avoiding eye contact with Donny as he flipped through the pages.
“You didn’t answer me.” Donny leaned against the wall as far away from Roland as he could manage. “Were you too drunk to remember last night?”
Roland did finally look up when he reached the last page, and Donny knew exactly what he’d seen. Donny could have drawn it over and over again from muscle memory alone. The way the tendons in his legs tightened and shuddered as he’d seated himself fully inside of the beautiful man beneath him. The silky feel of Roland’s hair as it shifted through Donny’s fingers when they kissed.
He’d been present.
He remembered everything, including the demands Roland made, and the brush off he was given.
