Page 62 of Callous Shot

We rolled around on the bed kissing, touching each other all over, our bodies growing slick with sweat as we moved together. His hard chest was pressed against mine, his leg hair coarse against my own, and his stubble was rubbing against my jaw. They were all such foreign sensations compared to everything I’d experienced sexually before we’d started this, but everything was so good, I never wanted to stop.

The bottom line was—I couldn’t get enough of Lincoln Bellingham. That was going to end up being a major problem for future me, but right now, I didn’t care. All I wanted was to come with him. My hands squeezed his glutes, my fingertips brushing over his crease, and I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to fuck him.

“You’re gonna make me come, baby,” he groaned when I rolled us over again, thrusting down against him, my balls full and heavy, ready to mark him with my load.

“Fucking come for me, Link.” I tugged his lip between my teeth like he’d done to me earlier, and he gasped, his hips stuttering as his release spread between us, everything hot and slippery wet and so fucking good. “Shit. Gonna come too.”

His hand dipped between my asscheeks, sliding lower to press his fingers against my taint, and that was it. Game over. My dick pulsed out what felt like an endless stream of cum, adding to his load and making everything ten times hotter and wetter.

“Shit, Hoyton. How did we come that much again?” he rasped, throwing his head back, his eyes fluttering closed. “Or did it just feel like a lot because you were using your abs to smear it all over me?”

“Who knows. Let’s call it a medical miracle.” I collapsed down into him, letting him take my full weight. “You should know how exceptional I am by now.”

A huff of laughter came from his throat, breezing over my skin. “Exceptionally unhinged.”

Turning my head, I kissed the corner of his mouth. “Rude.”

“You called me Link again.” His hand stroked up my spine and into my hair, making me shiver.

“Mmm. Rub my head a bit. It’s nice. You started it, anyway. You called me Dan again, when you were in the torture room.”

He stiffened beneath me, his hand pausing before he continued to slide his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp. “Why were you upset when you saw me in there?”

Shit. “Uh…”

“Tell me. Please.”

Damn him for catching me at a vulnerable moment, when I was all full of endorphins from two epic back-to-back orgasms. “I know what King’s capable of, and I thought— He’s protective of me, and he knows how you and I feel about each other. I thought he would hurt you. He would have hurt you if I hadn’t come in.” My jaw clenched at the memory of my best friend wrapping that chain around his knuckles, ready to teach Lincoln a lesson he’d never forget. A lesson he didn’t deserve, because really, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Well, apart from dancing with someone else. Asshole.

“You didn’t want me to get hurt?” he said hesitantly.

“What? No! Of course I didn’t! What the fuck— Why would I want my best friend to hurt you?”

“Mmm.” His free hand came up, tilting my jaw so he could brush his lips over mine. “There are a lot of reasons. The biggest one is that you hate me, and I hate you, and our families hate each other. Then we add in the team rivalry, the uni rivalry, the⁠—”

“I get your point,” I muttered, “but I still don’t want him to hurt you. Only I’m allowed to do that, and right now, I’m having way more fun having sex with you than fighting with you.”

He exhaled, resigned, but then his lips curved up against my mouth. “Me too.”

“Okay, so now you know. I just got— I dunno, you haven’t seen Ryker in action. I’m not joking when I say he could seriously hurt you. But you don’t have to worry about that. He knows now. He knows that if he touches what’s mine, there’s no coming back from it.”

“What’s yours? Possessive little demon.”

“Stop with the demon thing. If anything, I’m an angel. Anyway, at the party you said, and I quote, ‘You’re fucking mine.’ So who’s the possessive one?”

“Baby.” Lincoln laughed helplessly, and I just…melted, fucking sighing into his mouth like I was some kind of lovestruck teenager. In this case, hatestruck adult, but y’know. Same principle. “You’re mine to hate.”

“And you’re mine. I fucking love the way you hate me.” I paused. “Uh. Speaking of the whole ‘mine’ thing, you’re not seeing anyone else right now, are you? Because while we’re doing this, I don’t want to worry about catching anything.” That wasn’t even the real reason. The thought of him with anyone else made me see red, and I was pretty sure it was the same for him, based on the way he’d acted earlier.

“No. You’re not seeing anyone else, are you?” He practically growled the words, which confirmed my suspicions.

“Nope. Okay. We’re basically in agreement, then. We can do this again until we get it out of our systems, but outside of that, I live my life, and you live yours. As long as it doesn’t involve you fucking or kissing or even looking at anyone else, I don’t care. You don’t owe me anything else, and I don’t owe you anything. This thing is just…I don’t know, hate sex, I guess. Or lust, if we’re talking about your dick.”

“You’re so sweet,” he said in an offensively mocking tone, cutting off my noise of outrage with another kiss.

I tore myself away from him. “I’m not fucking sweet, you absolute bellend.”