His Unrequited Love

Good Dirty Boys

Victor

Maxim is making me crazy with the little pants and moans he gives out every time I thrust in him to the hilt. My balls are drawn up so high and they feel so full and heavy with seed I wonder how I am not blowing my load on him just after a minute or so. I have to think about something to distract me if I don’t want to make a fool out of myself but damn it, just remembering how he swallowed me down his throat just minutes ago is enough to flip me over the edge.

Gritting my teeth I go faster, harder on him because even if I don’t really know him, I know he can take me. I am holding his waist firmly, fingers digging in his flesh to keep him in place and he lets me do it like a good little b*itch. God, when I start thinking like that I barely recognise myself and my mind goes into dark, dark places almost immediately. Usually I am reminded of the person I used to be before, of that polite f*ucker who lost everything because he was too good. A do gooder. I hate that person more than anything in this world, and especially I hate how whiny and needy he was. And it makes me want to go even more ruthless just so that I can erase the thought of him from myself.

“Stay here,” Dirty boy tells me as he is observing me through his shoulders with wide hazel eyes clouded with lust. There is something else there too, something I can’t actually name, or don’t want to because, why would a stranger be worried about me? Why would a stranger care if I am into the f*ucking, body and mind and soul and all that s*hit?

I grip him even harder, pushing his head towards the mattress so he can’t look at me and read my expression. And what more does he want even from me? I am giving him the d*ick he came here for and I am doing it in the exact way I know he needs it. Whether I am lost in my head or not as it happens, that’s not his damn business.

I start f*ucking him even harder if that’s even possible. I thrust mercilessly into his tight hole and force myself to focus on how good it feels to be buried in his hot flesh and how good he actually takes me. I must’ve grazed over his prostate because he starts moaning louder, uncontrollable, legs kicking underneath me as his hands grab and squeeze helplessly over the fabric of the hotel sheets and I focus on him, completely and solely on him and the way he makes my body feel.

That I can do. I might not be there mentally, but physically I am all in. That boy is making me so hard just by being near me and the fact I got him this easily and how willing he actually is? I can live for this.

I f**k him like there is no tomorrow, like there will be no end of it. I f**k him so that I forget who I am, for tonight at least. So I won’t need the pills I hide under my bed to fall asleep and have a night without dreams, a little heaven just for myself and I. He is panting and letting out short rugged breaths every time I dive into him and the sound just makes me dizzy.

I am not letting good dirty boy to grip his d*ick and bring himself to finish though. Not yet at least. I want him just as messed up on my body as I am on his and as much as I want to punish him for reading me this easily. Strangers are not supposed to do that, they are not supposed to question if I am a hundred percent present in the moment with them or not. They are not family, or lovers and they never will be. And that’s why I like them. They are a game. Just like he is. Nothing more.

Gripping his arms and pulling them behind his back, I hold onto them for balance as I continue my merciless thrusts.

“Harder… faster!” He shouts breathlessly underneath me and I do exactly as he wants, twisting my hips into an angle I am sure will let me reach his sweet spot again. I imagine him leaking all over the bed with precome, that gorgeous c*ock of his with that damn soft tip must be leaking constantly by now. And oh, how crazy it makes me, how empty my mind gets at the thought.

Sweat is covering both our bodies. We are breathing heavy, filling the entire room with our animalistic sounds and for some reason my mind grips onto that - onto the squeaking sound of two bodies pressing against each other, onto the scent of s*ex filling the air and onto that feeling of almost blacking out from coming too hard too fast.

The pressure is pooling down my back and through my balls with each movement, and my vision starts to blur. His body is so hot, scorching hot and my vision blurs because damn it, he feels so damn good wrapped all around me, giving it all to me. He almost feels like mine.

That damn otherworldly part of me, my f*ucking wolf, choses this moment to mess with my head. Lorkan. He tries to tell me something, but I ignore him, losing myself in the body beside me. My wolf is just an echo of something that used to rule my existence and ultimately ruin it a long time ago, just like he is about to ruin the moment now.

So I swallow hard and will my focus back in the moment - on how the blue light is reflecting on dirty boy’s sweat covered skin or how the sounds he makes turn me on even more. How it is me who wants him, not some other wordly magical creature that lives in my head, and how right it feels to be holding him, like I can f*uck him till the end of time. I purposely fill my brain with images of how his plump pink lips look wrapped around my length or how his throat relax and stretches so good to welcome me while his tongue plays with my underside, sending bolts of pleasure all over my body. I think on how the sound he makes when he chokes on me as he deep throats me is one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard in my life.

I pull him up towards me so that my chest covers his back firmly and there is no space between us anymore, but he loses his balance for a second. The only thing that stops him from falling head down on the bed is me. I am holding him by his arms, pulling them back too so he can’t touch himself because there’s a part of me that’s so cruelly messed up it wants to see him suffer and beg for me to give him release. And then there is also that toxic trait of mine where I know I can f*uck him so good he’s going to come without needing anymore pressure over his d*ick.

Pushing him back down again I can change my angle and reach even deeper inside, constantly pounding on that sweet spot, and that’s all it takes.

“Oh, god!” He shouts as I reach again it again as I am buried balls deep inside him on the next merciless thrust. I know I am not gentle with him but then again I told him to stop me if it got too much and he didn’t. And now it pays off. Goddess, it pays off so damn good. “Oh, god! I am coming…”

And then he actually is. He is coming on my d*ick without even being touched.

I can feel him squeezing me inside, milking me so good I almost see stars. His body stiffens for long long seconds as I stop moving right at the moment I feel him coming because I somehow sense that’s exactly what he needs.

And then, when he is still high on endorphins, looking like he’s about to pass out, I pull out of him.

In a haze, I remove the condom and start jerking myself fast and tight, right above his panting ass, so turned on by the sight of the mess he is beneath me right now. He’s lying on the side, half facing me, his c*ock still hard as small ribbons of c*um continue to spurt out of his engorged painfully flushed c*ockhead, like he just can’t stop. And that’s what does it for me too.

I flip over the edge and the next second I come all over his lower back. A beastly sound comes out of me as I do and a second later I collapse on the bed beside him, panting heavily from what is one of the best orgasms I’ve had in a while.

As I come down from the high, I reach for pretty boy, gently squeezing his biceps. He doesn’t register me, doesn’t move at all actually. Just to be sure all is still good, not thinking much of it, I search for his eyes and they are still shut. He is berating heavily, like he just can’t turn his brain back on after what happened. For a second I am worried. Was this his first time? Is it possible that’s the reason he is still in that post-haze state where he doesn’t seem to comprehend the reality surrounding him?

And then a second thought freezes my heart. I was too rough with him, I told him to stop me but what if he didn’t because he didn’t know how? Did I give him a reason to think he couldn’t?

“Hey, you alright?” I ask hesitantly, shaking him a little.

“Yeah… too good. Mind’s floating…” he tells me with a strained husky voice and it starts to melt the ice inside me. Yeah, that ice is gone in an instant as I hear him speak. It is replaced with something else, something alien I don’t want to think about or name for that matter.

A few more moments pass and we lay in silence, not holding each other and not talking because we are strangers after all and we are not here to form attachments. Yet for some stupid sentiment I do want to reach out and actually hold him. Suddenly I feel so lonely. So damn lonely and lost I don’t dare to move because if I do he will actually leave and then darkness will rule over me again. And I hate it. I hate that damn darkness as much as I hate the voice of my wolf inside my head.

I am so focused on not disturbing him I don’t even realise this strange pull to keep dirty boy with me for the rest of the night is not my usual go to. But then again, usually I am not as messed up in the heart and brain as I am tonight after my almost encounter with my ex earlier.

“I just need a few more minutes,” Maxim says, breaking the silence and distracting me from the shadows my mind was headed towards. “I just need to gather my brain and I will be on my merry way.”

There is some self-deprecating note to his tone. Does he hate himself for what we did, for the way he let me handle him? I guess he is used to people praising him more than anything. And I did worship him, just in a different way.

“You can stay,” I tell him, the words coming out of my mouth before I even get the chance to think it through. But it is the truth. For some reason I want him to stay. I’ve never wanted it with any of my previous hookups but I want to play with him a little more.

“Sure about that?” He asks hesitantly, sleepily.

As I lean over him, he looks so tired and young, not a trace of that c*ockiness that drew me towards him earlier. His body is limp and relaxed sure, but there is some residue tension gripping his handsome sinful features that I just can’t bring myself to keep him awake anymore.

“You sure you are not about to rob me or murder me while I doze off after you f*ucked me senseless?” He adds after a second, voice dragging so much I can barely sense the humour in his tone.

“Yeah, you discovered my plan. I f*ucked you raw in order to steal your gold,” I get in on the joke and move a bit closer to him, so that I can feel the warmth of his body a bit more. “You are safe with me.”

I doze off right after him. I feel warm and comfortable for the first time in ages and it doesn’t matter he is a stranger in a hotel room so far far away from home.

I wake up earlier the next morning to the sound of my phone receiving a text. Dirty boy is still in my bed and I am spooning him, my arms wrapped around his torso like in my sleep I was too scared to let him go. Sunlight is creeping into the room through the tiny cracks in the blinders and it colours his high cheekbones in golden-red hues.

For a long time, I just lay there, watching his otherworldly face and memorising him because I know I won’t be seeing him again after this. Not that I care, I don’t do attachments anymore and I won’t start with a man whose real name I don’t even know. But he is so beautiful with his lean yet muscular body and long limbs and I can’t take my eyes off the V shape where his abdomen meets his hips. He is sprouting a morning erection and my fingers are aching to touch him and relieve him again. I can almost picture it as I lean towards him to wake him up with soft wet kisses over his naked biceps. After all, I need him awake for this.

Before I put my plan into motion my phone buzzes. And then again, and again, shooting one text after another.

Reluctantly I reach for it, ready to send whoever it is to go to hell for bugging me this early in the morning, expecting it to be someone from ‘work’. Because I work now, nine to five, five days a week, and usually over the weekends too. Work has become the meaning of my life and climbing the corporate ladder in the law firm I am soon to become a partner at is the only realistic life goal I have ahead of me. Being an outcast and a lone wolf means one thing - I don’t have a family anymore, I don’t have a pack or anything else to live for. Instead, I get to play a heartless human attorney in the big city, and I’ve learned to play that role to perfection - I am this good at pretending.

The texts are not from work. And they are not from my sister who runs the Lycan pack back in Redwind and who is constantly texting and calling to check on me as if she feels guilty for the way things turned up. It’s not her fault of course, just as it isn't my other sister’s, even though she is the one who started the war.

The sender of the texts is not on my contact list. But the number on my screen still makes my heart freeze in my chest. I try to swallow the lump in my throat as I jump to sit in the bed and go through them again but that damn feeling in my chest? It just doesn’t want to go away.

‘You are expected at the king’s castle on Friday, at 7 p.m. for an audience with the king’

‘Your ban will be temporarily lifted to walk on the premises of his kingdom.’

‘Not showing up will mean a new offense against the order and further extension of your verdict.’