"I guess you could," I grunted as I ground against him again. "Call it a form of that if you...want."
He panted, growling without words as he struggled to push against me. The problem was, every time he did, I just used my lower body to grind our groins together again, making him utter strange and damn near pitiful noises. At the same time, when he tried to use his lower body to push me off, it involved him grinding back against me, and also meant I was able to get a better grip on his upper body. He thrashed against me, trying to fling his elbow into me but missing as I leaned past it to grip his shoulders and grind down against him again.
I thought I had the upper hand until I felt his grip tighten, and suddenly I was on my back, which was the precise moment I expected to feel his fist go for my face again, but with far more brutality and intent than before. Rather than the radiating pain of a fist driving into my face, I was met with the sudden weight of him atop me, grinding against me with even more intensity and focus than I had used on him.
Once I might have said that someone so serious and suffering from a debilitating lack of humor and spontaneity would have been incapable of surprising me, but that was apparently not the case. I could only lie there and react to the sudden change with the same rigid shock that he had done earlier when I’d done the very same thing.
It lasted right up until the dirty, underhanded bastard decided to use that moment tobackhandme. The shock and outrage at the disrespectful gesture were far more jarring than the pain. Even then, he never stopped his movements, and despite everything, I could still feel the pleasure of his rutting radiating through me. Rage and a lust I couldn't remember feeling quite as strongly since I was a teenager continued to race through me, a cocktail of emotions that drove me as crazy as it spurred me into action.
I wasn't going to tolerate the disrespectful cheap shot, and I lashed out, catching him in the side with my fist and taking particular satisfaction in watching his face tighten with pain and feel his movement shudder to a stop. With a hiss, I pushed him to the side, using my advantage to take hold of him and slam him as hard as I could onto his back. The ring's floor was made to absorb impact, so I wasn't worried about serious injury, but it was hard enough that I watched his chest swell as he gasped for breath.
I was never one to miss an opportunity, and was always willing to push my luck whenever I had the chance, and this was no different. With him stunned, I undid the tie to his loose pants and shoved them and his underwear down. Clearly, the man had more ass than I’d noticed because his clothes got stuck halfway, but it was more than enough room for me to get my hand in.
Once more, he went completely rigid, admittedly not as rigid as the dick I wrapped my hand around, but he didn't immediately lash out either. I was more than a little smug at hisfrozen reaction and gave him a stroke, shoving against the band of his underwear where it had gotten stuck. As riled up as I was, I didn’t begrudge having to admit that he’d definitely had a good roll of the genetic dice. The size was impressive to the point of being slightly intimidating, without making someone question their life choices at the thought of trying to do anything with it.
Snorting at his confused expression, I used my other hand to undo my shorts, having had more than enough practice, it took only a second to pull out my dick. It would have required more brainpower than I currently possessed to figure out which of us was leaking the most, so I didn't bother. Instead, I wrapped my hand around our cocks and held them together, letting our mess slick things up a bit before rutting forward.
Nowthatgot his attention, as he gave a grunt that was pained yet not resistant, his head thumping back onto the pad as I pushed against him. If the feeling of us rutting against one another through our clothes had been hypnotic, skin to skin was overwhelming. I didn't stop, though, riding the pleasure as I held the two of us, using one arm to hold myself up while the other kept a firm grip around our shafts. The fight bled out of him as he lay there, his muscles tensing every time I thrust, but that didn't stop him from furiously glaring at me.
That was, until I saw the muscles in his neck tighten, his glaring eyes losing some of their ferocity as his lashes fluttered. I thought for a moment he was going to resist the inevitable before he gave a soft grunt. The sound drew out and became a tight groan, and I almost laughed at the realization that he wasstilltrying not to show that he was enjoying himself. That, however, was completely nullified when I felt his cock pulse against mine, adding a new layer of pleasure as the first spurt from him shot across his stomach and stained the bottom of his shirt.
Enough dribbled into my grasp that my thrusts became even smoother and that, along with the knowledge that I'd actuallydriven him to get off, was all I needed. I gave a final thrust, gripping the two of us even more tightly as my orgasm struck. Unlike him, I didn't bother to hold back my groan of pleasure as I made more of a mess of his stomach and shirt. As I gently rocked against him, every punch, every blow, every cheap shot, and cruel word seemed completely worth it. Even as I shuddered while the last of the pleasure bled out of me, I enjoyed the tingling feeling of peace that always followed a good and proper orgasm.
Which was unsurprisingly ruined a second later when he reached up and shoved me off with more force than precision, making me fall on my ass. I looked up, ready for him to follow up, but instead, Jace hastily got to his feet, shoving himself back into his pants. His face was beet red, and I didn't know if it was because of his orgasm or because the reality of what had just happened was finally occurring to him.
Not that I blamed him as I watched him hastily adjust his clothes, only to wrinkle his nose when he brushed his hand over the wet spot at the edge of his shirt. All I had to deal with was the fact that not only had I just gotten off because ofJace, but I’d thoroughly enjoyed it. He had to deal with that, and the fact that as far as he and everyone else were concerned, he had been straight until a few minutes ago.
Oh...and he'd been with Moira...something I wanted to think about even less than everything else.
I watched him pick up a towel and begin wiping himself off frantically as if that was somehow going to get him clean when his shirt was spattered. To be fair, most of that mess had been his, even though I had contributed. Either the man had been pent up, or he had enjoyed himself a lot more than he was going to admit. Well, the third option was he was just one of those guys who tended to make a mess when he got off, and damned if thatidea wasn't arousing despite knowing how much we'd both just fucked up.
Jace gave up on the towel and threw it into the dirty towel bin before stomping his way toward the door without looking at me. I dragged myself out of my thoughts, then remembered something I was going to pass along.
"Oh, Jace?" I called out, wondering if he was even going to stop.
For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to, but then he dragged his heels to a stop and turned to glare at me. “What the fuck do you want?"
"My mother was hoping you’d stop by again, on Wednesday if you have time, sometime after four," I said, raising a brow. "It seems that Micah perked up and asked if you were going to show up again."
His jaw tightened, and I wondered if I might actually hear the sound of his teeth grinding even from this distance. "You going to be there?"
"Probably, I try to spend time with him whenever I'm in town," I told him with a shrug. There was no point lying about it,
"How fucking long are you sticking around?"
"I don't know, a while."
Something else flashed in his eyes before he turned away. “I'll think about it. And if you get any more stupid ideas about bonding time for us, keep them to your fucking self, you prick."
That was the best answer I was going to get, and sometimes even I knew when not to push things, so I let him walk off without another word. Not that it was pure altruism on my part, I was fairly keen on him being out of my sight as well. Just looking at him left me with the most complicated and conflicting combination of anger and hate, that I was quite familiar with, sympathy and pity for his circumstances that I didn't know whatto do with, and an utterly brand new sense of lust and attraction that I'd never dreamed of feeling toward him.
I sat there for a moment and considered those feelings, especially the last ones. On some level, perhaps, I’d known Jace wasn't lacking in looks, and there was a unique kind of charm to his surly, overly serious demeanor. His hard features worked, making him a little intimidating, but still handsome. I hadn't gotten to see all his body, but it was clearly in good shape, and well, there was no denying that he had a damn nice dick that on anyone else would have producedjustlust from me.
There was lust, and plenty of other things, including regret, confusion, and worry that I might be losing my mind because holy hell, was I really attracted to Jace?
"So much for post-nut clarity," I muttered as I realized that yes, yes, I was, and it wasn't going away even as I thought about it.
Well, that was certainly an interesting return home, and I thought it wasn't about to get boring anytime soon.
