Bruised (Bruised Book 1) Page 3

  “Ahh,” I moaned as he breached me. “Oh, God!” It burned as his cock stretched my hole open. I hadn’t had sex in a while and whenever I had sex, it wasn’t often it included anal. But taking it slow was the way to go and I did. His piercings stuck out a little from both sides and I felt them as he slid into me too. I didn’t stop until my arse rested in his lap though.

  I blinked my eyes open, not aware I’d even closed them, and found his face close to mine. His eyes were open, alert, and just as intense as they’d been earlier.

  “Feel good?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for the answer as he busied my lips with a kiss.

  I was full, but it was a good kind of full, and I moved my hips experimentally. Oh yes, this… “Ahhh!”

  “That’s it,” he murmured, lips sliding feather-light over my own. “Let me hear your voice. Let me hear how much you love my dick in your arse.”

  Now he’d made me aware of the sounds I’d made, I immediately clammed up. But I didn’t stop moving. No, I rose back up, slammed down, up again till only his tip was inside, back down so my arse cheeks slapped against his thighs. My thighs burned, this wasn’t a position I was usually in, and I faltered after a little while.

  “Want me to take care of you?” His lips brushed my ear now, voice low, seductive.

  “Y-yeah,” I stuttered, clinging to his shoulders as he grabbed my arse and quickly flipped us over. This was more what I was used to, being on my back, legs spread, with his weight on me, pushing me into the mattress, cock fucking me ruthlessly. I couldn’t even seem to catch my breath properly, the pleasure was so intense.

  “How do you like it? Fast?” He kept up the ruthless pace he’d set. “Or slow?” Then slowed down, only rocking against me. How the hell am I supposed to choose just one? Both were good in their own way. “Or both?”

  “B-both.” Definitely both. I couldn’t pick just one of them.

  “Good.” And he quickened the pace again.

  I didn’t know if I should cling to him or grab the sheets or cover my mouth. The sounds that left me were loud and wanton and definitely not me—but no one had ever asked me how I liked it either. No one had ever made sure sex was good for me. As long as guys had a hole to stick their dick in, whether a mouth or an arse, they seemed to be happy, for the most part.

  Not Wynn. Wynn cared what I thought, what I felt, what gave me pleasure. And in the process he felt pleasure too. His hips snapped back and forth, cock thrusting into me in a fast, hard rhythm. But it wasn’t too hard, not too fast. It didn’t hurt. It was so good I didn’t know what to do with myself.

  My legs, which rested over the crook of his arms, trembled. My toes curled. I grabbed onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life and pretty sure my fingernails dug into his skin, but it didn’t matter in that moment because it was so damn good—

  And he slowed, rocking us gently, face buried in my neck, strong arms embracing me. I still clung to him, but not with my nails now, instead I wrapped my arms properly around him, one hand sliding up to tangle in his coarse, black hair.

  I was still bent almost in half, with my own cock resting, forgotten, against my stomach, leaking pre-come.

  “You feel good,” he murmured, breath fanning over my skin, giving me tingling goose-bumps. “So tight around my dick, so warm and pliant in my arms—” He did one long thrust with his hips, burying himself inside me, then went back to the slow, rocking rhythm he’d established.

  My eyes had closed at some point, and I wasn’t in any hurry to open them. The all-consuming desire of the hard and fast fuck of earlier had been replaced by a more content, easy-going sort of desire. The sort where I could fuck like this all night, whereas earlier all I’d wanted was to get off right away—because it was all about chasing the orgasm then, whereas now it was all about prolonging it.

  Wynn lifted his head off my neck, then his lips fastened to mine. Mine were already parted and he wasted no time diving his tongue into my mouth. It was a deep, but lazy kiss, and I sucked on his tongue, lapped my own over his lips, enjoying whatever he gave me.

  Until he quickened the speed again, because then it was all about chasing my orgasm. He didn’t reach for my cock, however, and I was too busy clinging to him to bring myself off. Fuck it, maybe I’ll come without so much as touching my dick. That would be something.

  “Ahh, fuck!” Wynn wrenched away, sat up on his knees, pulled the condom off and proceeded to stroke his cock, shooting almost immediately. One spurt landed on my stomach, right beneath my navel, the other in my pubes, and the last over my rock-hard flushed dick.

  Wynn didn’t waste any time—as soon as he was done, he bent down and took my cock in his mouth, sucking me into wet heat.

  A sound, something between a groan and a sob, left me. I grabbed his head, tangling my fingers in his hair and tried—I really did—to not force him to stay down. He seemed to get the message anyway, because he deep-throated me—

  And I came with a shout.

  He pulled off and stroked me through my orgasm, milking every single drop from me so it mixed with his own come on my skin.

  I dropped my arms over my eyes, completely worn out and flushed and empty and heavy. And a little bit embarrassed because I’d made so much sound, but he didn’t seem to mind, so I tried to push that away.

  His tongue ran over my skin, lapping up our come.

  I let my hands flop to the bed and lifted my head slightly so I could watch. The pink muscle was slick with saliva and semen, and the tongue stud stood out in the middle of it, flexing as he lapped at the come under my navel.

  My breathing took it’s time calming down, my chest rising and falling quickly. I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight of him eating our spunk—and at the same time I wished I could taste too.

  I can though. “Wynn?”

  “Hmm?” He flicked his gaze up at me.

  “Come here.” I motioned for him to move up. “I want a taste.” Better say it so he didn’t swallow.

  He grinned, that familiar wry grin, and crushed his lips to mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth, bringing with it the salty, bitter semen. I didn’t know if we tasted any different from each other and I didn’t care. All that mattered was that it was our come and we were sharing it and I’d never thought it would be so hot.

  I loved sucking cock and I liked come—I’d gladly swallow if guys wanted to come in my mouth—but this… this was something else. In my experience, guys weren’t that keen on tasting their own come. Or mine. Yet here we were, sharing ours.

  Our lips parted slowly, hesitantly. He caressed my face as he pulled away, nose rubbing against mine. “Who knew you were so dirty in bed, huh?” he murmured.

  “Huh?”

  He chuckled, deep in his throat. “Like I said, you always seem like a bundle of exposed nerves. When people talk to you, you tend to look like a deer caught in headlights.” He dragged his lips over my chin. “But now, during sex… damn.”

  I stared up at him, not quite understanding. “You… you’ve been watching me?” It hadn’t just been last night? It wasn’t often I saw Wynn around the club when I was at work—so where could he have gleaned any sort of information on me from?

  “Yeah, I’ve been watching you.” He met my gaze and held it, completely unapologetic. Then he dropped the bombshell, “I’ve been watching you ever since you started working at the club.”

  Chapter 4

  “I’ve been watching you ever since you started working at the club.” That’s what he’d just said. And that was… two months ago. I could only remember noticing him a handful of times in that time.

  “Does that freak you out?” He rolled off me and sat up, dragging a hand through his messy hair. He seemed almost… resigned to the fact.

  “No,” I said quickly because it didn’t. It didn’t freak me out at all. Maybe it should, but… Wynn hadn’t done anything. He’d watched me, yeah, but he hadn’t tried to talk to me or sleep with me in all that time.

  Back in col
lege, when I’d majorly fancied Alistair, and he’d been in his last year with me in the year below… He’d noticed how I felt and he’d exploited it. And I’d been happy to be exploited because he liked me back. Except he hadn’t really. He’d liked getting his rocks off—having me suck him off wherever we could sneak off to. And it was always sneaking around. I’d been sworn to secrecy.

  Still, I’d done it. Because he’d only used me for sex back then and I’d mistaken it for more—the slapping and beatings hadn’t started until I moved in with him. As flatmates—and only my brother and his boyfriend knew the real reason. Still, they didn’t know the truth, not the whole truth. They liked Al, thought he was a great guy. And I couldn’t tell them what he was really like, because Al would kill me. And would they even believe me?

  “Hey…” Wynn’s hand caressed my cheek. “You sure you’re not freaking out? You look like you are. I swear, I wasn’t going to approach you at all, but you kind of threw that out the window when you stood outside my club crying like that. I couldn’t not help you out.”

  I swallowed. “Why weren’t you—?” He wasn’t going to approach me? At all? Why not? Maybe he’s more the suffer in silence type of guy. He seemed like it anyway.

  He retracted his hand and I felt the loss of its warmth and heaviness. I wanted it back. “Because, Kasey, like I said, you seem like a bundle of nerves. And I’m not a nice person.”

  Now that was the biggest sack of shit I’d ever heard. “Where’d you get that from? You’ve been nothing but kind to me.” I felt exposed, lying on my back naked like this, flaccid dick sticky with spit and come. But he was the same, so, if he didn’t try to cover up I wasn’t going to either.

  That wry grin was back in place. “That’s because I like you.”

  “Then what—” What was he getting at? If he was nice to me because he liked me, what was all this about not being a nice person? He was nice and he’d just admitted it, yet his previous admittance didn’t make any sense.

  “I’m sure you’ve noticed that people don’t tend to like me very much,” he said drily. “I’m sure if your brother knew you were with me right now, he would not be happy.”

  So he was aware I was Kian’s little brother. “My brother doesn’t run my life for me. He can’t decide who I want to be with or not.” He would rather see me with Al instead of Wynn, that I was sure of, but they all had it backwards… Alistair was the one who wasn’t a nice person—he just seemed like that from the outside, whereas Wynn was the one who’d put my needs first ever since he caught me crying last night. Al would’ve never done what Wynn had done, not for me anyway. Probably for his friends—except the sex part, though even that I couldn’t be sure of—but to his friends he was a nice guy.

  “Hey.” He stared at me again. “I don’t like that expression on you.”

  I jerked back a little. “What expression?” There was much Al didn’t like about me, my tendency to be extremely emotional first on the list.

  He frowned, reaching out to smooth his thumb over my forehead. “Like you’re thinking about something bad, something you’d rather have been without.”

  Oh. Well, he was right. I’d rather have been without Al at all if I’d known how it would end up. But I’d been a gullible fool back at college, taken whatever scraps of his affection I could get when it hadn’t really been any affection at all. He’d just been in it for a hot mouth to suck his dick. Not once had he sucked mine—or ever really touched it much, come to think of it.

  Yet, Wynn… the first thing he’d done was suck me off, give me pleasure without expecting me to do it in return. I had done it, today, but I’d wanted to. His cock was magnificent and even now, flaccid and sticky, it was a sight to behold.

  “If you want another round, you’ll have to give me some more time,” he chuckled.

  “Wha—that’s not—” I flushed red. I hadn’t been thinking about more sex, though I wouldn’t say no if he offered. “I was just admiring the view,” I muttered, not daring to look at him.

  That changed his chuckle into a full-out laugh and he stretched out next to me, arms pulling me in close so he could place a chaste kiss on my forehead. “You’re sweet.”

  I didn’t like being categorised as sweet, but that might be Al’s influence, so I kept my mouth shut and went with it. I buried my face in his neck, hooked my arms around neck and rested one leg over his thigh. “So how’d you think I’d be in bed?” I asked in a murmur, taking our conversation back a few steps.

  His chest rumbled. “Honestly? I thought you’d be a flustered little virgin.”

  I snorted. “I’m hardly a virgin. I’ve been sucking cock for years.”

  “And this?” He slipped his index finger down my crack, rubbing over my sensitive hole. “You been doing this for years too?”

  A moan left me as he slipped the tip of his finger inside me. “N-no. But still not a virgin to it.” Wynn was only the second guy to fuck my arse though, the first being Al. The two experiences couldn’t be compared though. Not by a long-shot.

  Alistair was rough and mostly only wanted to fuck me when I was on my hands and knees. Maybe so he didn’t have to see my flat chest and my dick, I thought bitterly. Maybe so he could deceive himself I was actually a girl. If he didn’t have lube nearby, he was happy to settle for spit. Which wasn’t ideal—and sometimes it downright hurt.

  But Wynn… again, Wynn had only thought of me. He hadn’t been rough with me, hadn’t fucked just for his own pleasure and not given a rat’s arse about mine. No, he’d been fully focused on me the entire time. That’s how it’s supposed to be.

  “You’re pretty relaxed now.” He kissed my temple. “But you’re not in the club.”

  “Well, it’s work and it’s busy and… yeah, you know.” I couldn’t tell him people made me nervous, that loud voices were my undoing. That seeing someone who even remotely resembled Alistair made me fumble and drop whatever I held in my hand just from fear it really was him.

  “No, that’s not it.” He held me tighter, face nuzzling against my neck. “But I’ll stop digging. You’re clearly not comfortable talking about it and I don’t want you to be anything but comfortable in my company.”

  Oh, I was comfortable with him, all right. A lot more comfortable than I was with anyone else, save maybe Kian and Adam. Mathilda, too, before… but after Al put down the rules I’d withdrawn from her and now she’d buggered off to France as an exchange student.

  “Stop it,” he said all of a sudden.

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re thinking about something again. Something that makes you tense all over. I don’t like it.”

  That made me chuckle—and the tension he’d noticed creeping in bled back out. “I’ve never met anyone like you before,” I whispered.

  “Like me?” He sounded puzzled.

  “Someone so kind,” I clarified.

  He snorted. “Then you’ve clearly not met many decent people.”

  Did he categorise himself in the decent people category? Or did he mean he wasn’t amongst them? I couldn’t tell and I didn’t bother asking, because I knew he was a lot more than decent.

  “I don’t want to get out of bed.” He flopped onto his back and dragged me with him to rest on his chest.

  “Then don’t.” I was more than happy to stay like this.

  “I dropped the condom on the floor. I should at least throw it in the rubbish before it makes a mess.”

  So he really is a neat freak. “Leave it. I’ll clean it up later.” He’d just eaten all our come, so a little of his own seeping onto the floor tiles… I was pretty sure he could handle that.

  “Okay,” he subsided and that pleased me to no end. Considering how fast he’d cleaned up after breakfast, I’d figured cleaning was his first priority. But I got him to leave the mess on the floor to stay in bed with me, and that… was flattering.

  I had several missed calls from Al and Kian, as well as messages from both of them and Silver. Kian and Silver asked about
my audition yesterday and both got more and more worried as I failed to answer, especially the messages from today.

  I sent off a quick answer to them. Didn’t get in. Need some time. Sorry.

  Al’s messages weren’t as easy. At first he’d inquired about the audition too, then said we’d speak when I got home from work in the morning… and then there was a where-the-hell-are-you message, followed by veiled threats of what he’d do if he didn’t hear from me, if I didn’t come home.

  “Shit.” I swallowed audibly, clutching tight to my phone. I’d pushed him out of my mind all day, deciding to enjoy the good time with Wynn—for as long as it lasted—and face whatever consequences would come later.

  I didn’t want to though. Not Alistair. I didn’t want to face him. I couldn’t.

  “Hey.”

  I started, head shooting up.

  Adam mock-saluted me with a small grin. “What’s up with you? You’re all pale. Still down about yesterday?” His smile fell as he brought up my botched audition.

  I licked my lips. Adam can help, a tiny voice whispered in my head. Adam’s a good friend. He’ll help you.

  “Kaz?” His brows drew together in a frown.

  “I have to talk to you.” I didn’t know what to say though. The whole truth? Only part of the truth? Or just skip all the personal stuff and ask him a favour? “After work?” Our shift was starting soon, after all, and it wouldn’t be enough time to speak properly before then.

  “Yeah, sure.” He studied me closely. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded jerkily, even though it was a lie. I didn’t want to get into it now, not when we were expected behind the bar in ten minutes. “After work,” I repeated, pulling my jumper and T-shirt over my head. I shoved them in my closet and grabbed my work-shirt. It was black and form-fitting.

  “Hey, Kaz?”

  I looked over at Adam to find he had a wicked grin on his lips.

  “You got something there.” He motioned to his own neck.