The string is fraying from how tight it’s being pulled, stretched out like my leg.
“Do youwantmore?” he asks, watching me, his eyes narrowed.
My heart is pounding, my muscles are screaming, and—
Then I notice it, that faint, familiar glow around him.
It’s soft, warm, just like how he makes me feel. And only I can see it. For once, I’m glad of this fact.
“I want more,” I gasp.
His eyes widen before flickering from my mouth to my eyes. I lick my lips.
The string finallysnaps.
We’re kissing, but it’s nothing like the first time. That one was soft, maybe even careful.
This kiss? It isn’t careful at all.
It’s all teeth and heat and frustration, spilling out between our mouths, our bodies.
He doesn’t let go of my leg; if anything, he presses me down harder, holding me in place like he wants to make sure I stay right where I am, right under him.
I let him, I don’t fight it. I don’t want to.
His mouth is hot against mine, familiar and new all at once, and I can’t get enough.
Iwantmore. More of this, of him. I’m greedy for it, and I don’t care if it’s the spell or not because I need him like I need to breathe.
Even if he didn’t kiss me, I would still ride the bus a hundred more times just to find him. The apartment is empty without him, my life is empty without him. I have no reason to train and do endless drills without him.
His sharp edges, the warmth he gives me…I can’t live without it. I refuse to.
Kissing is just another thing I don’t want to do without him, not now that I know what it’s like.
I kiss him back just as hard, just as desperate, my hands gripping his shirt and pulling him closer even though he’s already leaning against me.
His other hand sneaks down between us, groping my rising hard-on and I groan into his mouth. He squeezes my dick hard, mean and unfair. His grip is hard enough that I gasp and try to close my legs, but he’s right between them, keeping them open with his own body.
Realizing I can’t stop it, nor do I want to, I give in, letting my legs fall open around him.
“I knew you could stretch more,” Colten says, backing away just enough that each word hits my lips. He’s still rubbing my dick through my borrowed sweatpants. “But why is it so—oh, no underwear?”
His sharp gaze studies my face. I’m sure I look like a mess, panting like I’ve been running and my skin burning hot.
“Did you think you were going to get lucky?” he asks. “Is this what you do with all those girls you dated, just show off your body and hope they act like animals in heat?”
“N-no,” I reply, my hips trying to jerk up into the tight hold of his hand, but he pushes his weight down on me, on my dick, keeping me pinned. He doesn’t even have to hold down my arms. I’ve balled them up at my sides, clenching and unclenching the mat, needing something to hold onto. “They just didn’t fit.”
“Hm,” Colten hums, sitting back as he watches me, unimpressed. He’s still squeezing me, tight and on the edge of pain and pleasure, but I can’t get enough of it.
His face is surrounded by the steady warmth of the glow, giving away how turned on he is despite his judgmental expression.
“Must be hard having such a big dick, huh?” he says, the corner of his lips twitching. “I’m sure all the girls love it, don't they? But Patrick, remember how I said you might not want what I want?”
He leans in again, and I swear there’s a vicious edge to his smile. “If we fuck, I don’t bottom. This big dick of yours—”
He squeezes it even harder, roughly rubbing the heel of his palm against the head of my dick. I gasp as pre-cum squirts out, my fingers clawing at the floor.
