Touch: The Complete Series

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Touch: The Complete Series Page 16

by Cara Dee


  Bullshit.

  Yeah, I know. Fucking hell.

  Whatever—right now, I ignore all the voices that make me come off as a goddamn nutcase. I let myself have this. The only thing that would be more perfect is if Lina were here, too. Then again, if she were, I'd be using her as a shield again.

  I realize I don’t want that.

  In a bold move, I nudge my foot between his and end up with my leg trapped. Arousal spikes. Desire settles like a rock in the pit of my stomach, and Mark makes his own move, hitching his leg farther up my thigh. Under the covers, my cock throbs next to his, and I accidentally—instinctively—buck my hips forward an inch or two. But it's enough for him to notice.

  "Jesus Christ." He groans under his breath, causing me to stiffen. "You're killing me here, pup."

  "I'm sorry," I rasp, about to panic. Overcome with too many feelings, I begin to stutter like a moron. "I j-just—I need, um—"

  "It's okay." He cuts me off and cups my cheek, once again forcing me to face him, much to my mortification. "I know what you need."

  Without another word, he tilts his face over mine and kisses me. Squarely on the mouth. Soft yet firm lips. Scruff. It scratches against my skin in a way that makes me shiver.

  Chapter 4

  While shock sears through me and stuns me into immobility, the parts of me that have longed for this are stronger. It's his touch—I surrender to it. Completely.

  Kissing him back, I let him take control even though I participate as much as he does. A strangled noise erupts from my throat as he slides his hand down and palms my ass, then gives a slow thrust that grinds our cocks together.

  He doesn’t stop, either. It's merely the beginning of one of the most erotic experiences of my life. The kiss deepens, and now that I've caved, I can move on my own; I don’t need his hand urging me.

  That means he can use it for…fuck, anything. My cock throbs as unbidden thoughts flash through me. They trigger me, too. I become a slave—fucking desperate. I cling to him, craving more. Our tongues slide together, lips insistent and locked. Then that skilled hand of his slips between our bodies; he cups the heads of our cocks and gives a sensual tug and twist.

  I groan embarrassingly loud and thrust upward, into his palm.

  "That’s it," he murmurs huskily. He starts to kiss my jaw, my throat, my neck—at the same time as he wraps his long fingers around us, inches away from reaching all the way, and strokes hard, smoothly, expertly. A ragged whisper, "You like this, baby?"

  "Yeah—fuck. Yesss." I hiss when he tightens his hold. "Please…"

  I didn’t know it would feel this way.

  I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I didn’t know.

  "Please what?" He nips at my neck. "Give me your words. Tell me what you want."

  Tall order. I want too much. All of it. It's almost overwhelming. I've denied this for so long, and now that it's within reach, I have no idea where to start. The fact that he keeps stroking, rubbing against me, doesn’t make it easier for me to think.

  Think, goddammit; think. During our scenes—yeah, he's touched me. He has rolled on condoms and cock rings, and he has inserted anal plugs and used dildos. He has prepared me.

  That's been different. He's been Master, and he's done the same with Lina. Except with her, there've also been more intimate touches—touches because it simply feels good; touches without real purpose. Kisses, hard fucking, and oral sex. None of that with me. But now—like I said, I want it all. At once.

  "I want you to use me," I blurt out, panting. I kind of regret the wording, because it feels like a dark secret. Though, it's the truth—and another thing I've kept hidden in the past. Men are supposed to be strong, type Alpha-fucking-male, providers for women, and unyielding.

  And here I am, dreaming of being Mark's fuck-toy.

  I fantasize about him taking me relentlessly, claiming me in brutal ways.

  Like always, only Lina knows my most animalistic desires. I could never hide that shit from her.

  Despite her open mind, sweetest heart, and constant reminders to me that we're all different, that we all have different wants, I can't shake the feeling of being weak—a disappointment.

  My body tenses up when I realize Mark has stopped. Peering at him nervously, I see that he's studying me. Hooded gaze, revealing lust, and past that is nothing but experience. He reads me too well, and it leaves me exposed.

  "I'm not going to take guesses right now," he says gravely, unmasked desire in his voice. "But—" he pushes me aside and follows, covering my body with his "—one thing is fucking clear, Brayden. We will talk about whatever you're hiding." Slowly, he lowers his face and brushes his lips over mine. He also lets his weight press into me, probably knowing I want it—and can take it.

  He can be as rough as he wants. Just a thought.

  "But you don’t want to talk right now, do you?" It's another one of his husky whispers. All I can do is shake my head and welcome his mouth. "I love seeing you like this. Surrendered, wanting, no more resistance, so fucking ready for me to do whatever I want."

  "Mark," I whimper pathetically. Give me something.

  I'll worry about the aftermath later.

  "I've waited for this." He grinds our cocks together again. "Thought about this—countless times." His voice is addictive. "Soon, I'll have you bound and spread for me." Seduced by his fucking authority. "Both of you—you and Evangeline." I writhe and buck under him, crazed for more. "Two little subs under my care." Nuzzling the spot below my ear, he whispers his final words for the moment. "But right now I want your mouth on my cock, baby."

  My mouth waters at the same time as I admit to myself that I, for some goddamn reason, like his new name for me. Term of endearment. Nickname. Whatever. Baby. Humiliating and arousing. It could be sweet, too, I guess.

  "I want it," I hear myself moan. "I want you."

  Mark lifts himself off my heated body but dips down and kisses me softly. "Glad to hear it, Brayden." Rolling over, he ends up on his back next to me, and he coaxes me to come with him. "You know I want you, too."

  I do. He hasn’t made that a secret, ever. If he had, I wouldn’t have found the guts to give in. Or maybe I would, but not yet. As it is, Mark never hides anything. He also doesn’t miss anything. I've been fooling myself, thinking my thoughts are safe from him, but he knows. He knows humiliation turns me on.

  It would be a different kind of humiliation than the one I've experienced in the past. Mark wouldn’t bully me, push me down and leave me there, or be evil and cruel. He would use my weaknesses for him and Lina against me, taunt me, and expose me, and he would also catch me and bring me back.

  Scooting down his body, I settle between his muscular thighs, again feeling my mouth watering.

  "What a spectacular fuckin' sight," Mark mutters and drags a hand over his face.

  Relief rushes through me, and I show it with a silly little grin I can't hide. I'm high on that relief, almost delirious, and the small grin is still in place when I lower my head and close my mouth over the head of his cock.

  Fuck, yeah.

  I savor his musky scent, the flavor of him, and unlike Lina, who can be a bit of a tease, I take him farther and farther until he hits the back of my throat. Our girl can deep-throat. I'm gonna need practice. All I can do for now is to finally give him the attention I'm capable of. With nothing holding me back, I hope to become the sub, the man, he deserves.

  "Christ, that’s perfect," he moans.

  Peering up at him while I soak his erection with my tongue, I see tensed abs, defined pecs, and a face flashing with dark desire. When his lust-filled eyes meet mine, it's like we fuel each other. I acknowledge the urgency in his gaze by tightening my lips around his steel-hard cock, and his groaned curse makes me wanna fuck the mattress.

  I suck him as hard as I can and grind my own dick against the sheets. I feel the wet spot I create on the fabric and only rub harder. My hands slide up his muscular thighs to fondle his tight sac, having watched
him enough to know what he's into.

  Every now and then, a spurt of pre-come coats the roof of my mouth as proof that I'm doing it right, and I savor the salty taste of him. It's been almost ten years since I was with a guy intimately, and I don’t remember it being this good, this sexy, this satisfying, this consuming. Hell, my one and only other experience with another man ended in disaster, and it's nothing I think of fondly.

  Mark bucks his hips, thankfully not treating me like I'm made of glass, and he soon fists my hair to guide me over him. "Wait," he grits out and stills me. "I want to be inside you when I come."

  I whimper pitifully, nod, and lick my thoroughly-used lips. Pulling me up his body, he gives me a bruising kiss and explores my mouth with his tongue, barely letting me breathe. The realization hits me hard—that he's wanted me for a while now, and just how much he wants me. It makes me feel both desired and idiotic. Because I wish I could've been more for him from the get-go.

  He rolls us over so I'm on my back. He grinds our dicks together, still kissing me hungrily, then breaks away. Breathing heavily, he mutters, "Don’t move a fucking muscle." He leaves me panting and on the verge of begging for his touch, but he's only gone for a moment. When he returns, he's got a bottle of lube. "Finally all mine." He's quick to cover my body with his again, and he captures my mouth in another hard kiss.

  It's night and day—Mark and Lina. One is hard, big, less pliable, and oozes power and strength. Another is soft, small, sweet, and radiates…I don’t know, brightness, I think is a good word. They're both wonderful and insanely appealing to me, in different ways.

  "I feel stupid for not asking." He kisses my jaw and wraps his fingers around my aching cock, giving it a slow stroke. I choke on a breath and grab on to his shoulders. "Are you ready for this, Brayden? I mean sex…with me." He nuzzles his nose to mine. "Do you want me inside you?"

  "Yeah," I groan and buck my hips. Fuck, can't he see how ready I am? "I want you. Now."

  He already knows I love it when he uses toys on me, so it can't really come as a shock that I want his cock, can it?

  "Demanding." He smirks and shakes his head in amusement. "That’s my job." I flush as his eyes turn dark and predatory. "And how I fucking love that job," he murmurs and sits back on his heels between my parted legs.

  I lick my lips, still tasting him from before, and practice patience as Mark strokes me expertly while using his free hand to prepare my ass for him.

  "Push back," he whispers. I obey; when he adds a second lubed-up finger, I push into his touch, relaxing quickly. I'm used to the dull burn, and it's one in which I find a perverted thrill. "Any discomfort?"

  I quickly shake my head.

  He huffs a chuckle. "I shouldn’t be surprised. You love this." He adds a third finger, and I let out a long moan as my eyes flutter closed. "Just wait 'til I get to fuck you after giving you an enema." As if I needed more reasons to look like a tomato. Jesus Christ. I know this can be standard practice before anal sex, and I've had enemas before, mostly for hygienic reasons when Lina and I started with anal play, but I haven't had sex right after one. "You'll be even more sensitive, pup."

  I'll take his word for it.

  Once he deems me ready for him, he coats his cock in lube before putting the bottle to the side. Then he stuns me by engulfing my dick in his mouth. We both groan, although I always come off as so fucking greedy and desperate. I spit out a curse and place a hand on his head, though there's nothing to weave through or grasp. His dark hair can't be more than half an inch long, soft and thick. Digging my head back into the pillow, my face scrunches together as he sucks me strong as hell and massages my balls. Shudders rip through me like shattering currents, and the surprise of his actions lingers for a long time.

  "Christ," I hiss.

  My eyes are glued to him, and the only thing I can think is that he's still all man. Just because he's going down on another man, he's not any less masculine. There's always an air of authority around Mark, and he can play me like a fucking fiddle.

  Releasing me slowly, he continues to kiss his way up my body, only pausing to get my nipples hard and tight.

  "Who does your body belong to, Brayden?" he whispers and applies lubrication to my dick. "Tell me."

  "You," I grit out, pushing back. He holds me tightly, making it impossible for me to move, though that doesn’t mean I stop trying. "You, Mark. Fuck, just—" Fuck me! I let out a panted breath and remind myself once more about that fucking word: patience. Damn. It's not easy. "It's more than my body. Same goes for Lina," I mumble without thinking.

  As he kisses my neck, I tilt my head to give him access and notice goose bumps rising across his left arm, and he falters.

  "I'm sorry." I tense up, feeling like an idiot now. I should've kept my mouth shut! "I-I didn’t mean to say anything. We can't help it—"

  "Shhh." Mark grabs my jaw and covers my mouth with his. "Shh, baby." Lifting his head a few inches, he looks down at me with a gentle, yet serious expression. "Your feelings aren’t the only ones that have changed." He dips down again and scrapes his teeth along my bottom lip. "I'm not going anywhere, all right?" I nod slightly, attempting to relax. "Just 'cause you two belong to me doesn’t mean I don’t belong to you, as well."

  I exhale, finding comfort in those words. "Okay." I nod some more and reach up to kiss him. "Okay."

  He responds by deepening the kiss, echoing a quiet "Okay," and pressing his body more fully against mine. I can feel every hard inch of him, and it sets us back on track. We focus on each other; mainly, we focus on right now.

  With a low groan, Mark begins to push into me, and the second the head of his cock passes my tight ring of muscle, we both let out labored breaths through clenched teeth. He never ceases to kiss me or touch me. His callused hands knead my thighs, encouraging me to lock my feet around him. I do, and with a buck of my hips, I force him deeper inside me. All the way.

  "Oh, fuck," I breathe out, my eyes growing large. "Mark."

  "Jesus," he mutters breathlessly. "You gotta calm down. I'm a little bigger than the toys I've fucked you with in the past."

  You're telling me this now?

  I clamp my mouth shut, wanting to scream. Again, I feel stupid. I've been up close with Mark's cock several times; I should know he's not a fucking piece of plastic or silicone. And I do remember how sore Lina was after our first weekend.

  It doesn’t take that long for the pain to ebb, though. The way he touches me and whispers obscene words in my ear heats me up like nothing else. He takes control, not that he ever lost it, and slowly starts to move, all while keeping up his other ways to satisfy me. He's a kisser, I already know, but today is the first time I get to experience it, and now I understand why Lina often gives out dreamy sighs after kissing Mark. He's a master at that, too; he's passionate about it—nothing half-assed or unemotional. He's also generous with his touches and murmurs of both affection and dirty words.

  "So good," I sigh, consumed by a new kind of fire. The burn isn't as dull as it usually is, but it's not a bad thing. It makes everything more intense instead, and I move my hands up his thick biceps to feel more of him.

  "Understatement." He grunts and thrusts a bit harder. I feel his long, thick cock sliding in and out of me, less resistance with each pass. "Now that I know what it's like to be inside you—" he nips at my upper lip and slips a hand between us, wrapping his fingers firmly around my dick "—I won't let you push me away." I moan as he strokes me at the same pace he's moving inside me. "I get that not everything is fixed by a fuck." A dark chuckle slips through his lips, and I shudder and reach up to claim his mouth with mine. He speaks into the messy kiss. "But I won't allow you to sink into that little hole where you're disgusted with yourself." He has an eyebrow arched when I meet his gaze. "You think I don’t know how your mind works?"

  I swallow thickly, not knowing what to say.

  "You're mine now, Brayden." His voice is low, full of both warning and promise. "Mine and Evangeline's. And w
hy the fuck would we allow our boy to hate himself?"

  "Mark," I mumble, shaking my head. I avert my eyes. "It's not—"

  "—that simple? I know," he finishes. "But we've got time and patience to make you understand." He kisses me again, mingling our tongues together languidly, and speeds up after having slowed down just a little. He also tightens his grip around my cock, causing me to whimper and arch into him. "Just keep one thing in mind. We want you for who you are—sure as hell not for who your family wants you to be."

  I chuckle shakily and tilt my head toward his neck. "Don’t ruin the mood."

  "You little bastard." He huffs a quiet laugh and drives into me with force, and I'm blinded by a mixture of incredible pleasure and pain. "Better?"

  "Yeah—oh, fuck." I gasp as a series of tremors run down my spine, each seemingly heading in a different direction. My balls start to tingle, my skin becomes damp with a new flush, my muscles strain, my ass tenses, and several other sensations struggle to pull me under. "More," I plead. "Fuck me harder. I need you."

  He doesn’t respond verbally, but he does pull out of me, causing me to wince, and he twirls a finger. A silent command for me to get on all fours. Oh, hell yeah. Scrambling into position, I push out my ass much like Rory did last night. I do it without shame, and then I drop to my elbows, ready for him.

  This time there's no wait—no going slow. Gripping my hips, he pushes into me with a hard thrust. "Fuck," he growls, setting a fast pace. I cry out, the sound muffled as I bury my face in my pillow, and I take his cock the way I want it. He fucks me forcefully—plain and simple—and I'm already addicted. "So damn amazing," he groans. "My dirty little fuck-toy."

  "Oh, Jesus." I gulp and bite down on the pillow. A brand-new type of arousal flares up inside me, and it's the result of his previous words. My dirty little fuck-toy. That line goes on repeat in my head as he hammers into me, leaving me to hang on for dear life.

 

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