Changing Tides Page 8

  I couldn’t let this go - whatever the fuck it was. Scary as hell, this emotion thing I had going on for him. I’d never even had a sniff of feelings for another person like I had for Ayden. All born from one meeting and two months of going back and forth in my damned head. There was nothing wrong with the idea of him and me, even if it was just a bit of sex. We’d set the sheets on fire, I didn’t want to pass it up.

  When he got over those same doubts I’d stewed on for too long, he’d come to the same conclusion. My confidence was warranted.

  Breathing in a lung full of his scent, I caught his hand in mine. The potent smell surrounded me, hung in the air, assured me I was making the right move.

  “Ayden...” I murmured into his ear when I came up for air from the kiss I’d just given him. The slight hitch in his breath gave way to the short pant accompanying it. His body couldn’t lie to me, it was in the way he melted against my chest.

  Disentangling our fingers, I moved to his belt buckle and pulled him closer, it didn’t feel enough even though I was as close as I ever thought I’d be to him again. My heart raced like a freight train and that unfamiliar stirring in my chest amplified, my dick getting harder.

  This is right. Ayden is right.

  I was desperate, desperate for intimate contact with him, desperate for another taste of him, and almost begging for something I’d never had before. I would have pleaded on my hands and knees and enjoyed every minute of it. Anything. Anything at all to have him.

  Ayden sucked in a sharp breath, lifting his hands to my head, sifting his hands through the strands of my hair. A gentle movement that hurt, I pretended it meant more than it did, and my eyes drifted shut as I lost myself to the softness of his fingertips against my scalp.

  Jesus, he was undoing me, little by little.

  Calmness washed over me, a place I’d love to have lingered for a while longer knowing I may never get it again. The world around me stilled, and it was just me and him, nothing else mattered.

  It was coming home, it was being free, it was my all. Maybe if I stayed right there, the world would leave me behind and forget I existed.

  I’m not ready for you...not yet.

  He plucked sharply at my hair, bringing me back down to earth with a jolt of desire, my lust kicking in tenfold at the pain lancing through my skull.

  For the first time in my life I sank to the floor willingly and kneeled before the man that had stolen all my senses. In that one singular moment I bowed before him, awash with a myriad of emotions I didn’t fully understand. He caught me off guard yet didn’t unsettle me like I imagined he would. I recognised the moment exactly for what it was.

  His fingers became a dizzying caress, mapping circles across the crown of my head. It wasn’t what I wanted now, not what I needed. Not enough. I wanted more, so much more.

  I reached again for his belt, clumsily unbuckling the metal clasp, wondering where the fuck my nerves had sprang from. His legs tensed against my chest, showing his nervousness was the same as mine. It was up to me to calm him down, I wanted him to enjoy what I did to him, so he’d want me again, come back for more. There was no room for fear between us.

  Craning my head up, I pushed my head under his t-shirt that hung over his tight stomach, growling in appreciation when his warm skin touched against my nose. Moving back, I halted the fumbling at his belt and pulled my jacket off, shoving my own t-shirt over my head and throwing it down the hall, uncaring as to where it landed. He got the message and followed suit, uncovering those muscles I knew he had as he discarded his t-shirt at my knees. I looked up and salivated at the finesse of his body; wide in the shoulders, muscular, almost ripped. Abs I wanted to tongue before I wrapped my lips around the impressive package hiding behind his dark jeans.

  Settling my mouth over his stomach, I dipped my tongue into his belly button before peppering light kisses over the smattering of dark hair down the treasure trail that disappeared into his jeans.

  Ayden was fucking beautiful, his sun kissed skin begged to be worshipped. There wasn’t a tattoo in sight, virgin skin, and I loved it, so unlike my own, such a contrast.

  The light to my dark.

  My lips skimmed the top of his jeans, teeth nipping. I could smell his masculinity and my dick tightened more in my pants making me shift uncomfortably on my knees while I unbuttoned his jeans and yanked them down to his ankles before he had any time to think about what I was doing. Sucking in a breath, I grinned, this guy didn’t seem to like underwear.

  His dick was right there, bobbing in front of my face. Long. Hard. Soon to be very happy to make my acquaintance. Licking my lips in anticipation, I took. I couldn’t fucking wait to get my tongue around his flesh, taste the dribbles of pre-come. When I closed my mouth around the head of him without invitation I groaned and clasped my hand around his girth, so I could devour him like he was the tastiest thing I’d ever had in my life. Not able to get the entire length of him in my mouth, I kept my hand firm and sucked my cheeks hollow, lathering him with spittle. I hadn’t given a blow job in years, and never with the amount of eagerness I was sucking down Ayden.

  How did it come to this? Me on my knees sucking his cock like a bitch. He hadn’t moved his body yet, and I waited for the onslaught I knew he was going to throw at me the second he got on board, when the sensations took over his trepidation. Keeping my lips firm around him, his salty essence delicious on my tongue, his fingers finally grasped my hair. The first sign of him relenting.

  His hips moved, tentative at first, like a slow roll, testing. Testing. I was silently begging him to take control, I needed to see him let go. To own it, to own me, show me it was what he wanted.

  “Stop, stop, stop...” he chanted, holding my head still. His cock popped from my mouth, streams of saliva dripped from him as I let go and stared upwards.

  Not now, don’t back out, please.

  Too fast. It was too fast. I cursed my own stupidity. No matter how good, I’d been too hasty. I’d barely given him a second to breathe, never mind consider his emotions and what we were doing. My heart sagged, and I prepared to apologise, a thing I never did.

  Just as I opened my mouth to do so, he surprised me when he fisted his hand around his dick and stroked along his glistening shaft. I couldn’t take my eyes from the sight of him pleasuring himself while I watched. I wanted him back in my mouth though, I wanted him to fuck it like there was no tomorrow. But he stood there giving me a show like it was the most natural thing in the world. Where had his confidence come from?

  Ayden’s porn worthy actions had me panting and squeezing my own dick through the material of my trousers so hard it wouldn’t have surprised me if I came in my pants any minute. The guy was just that fucking sexy.

  “Take your clothes off,” he commanded, his voice gruff.

  I wasted no time standing and stripping out of the rest of my shit rapidly, dropping trousers, briefs and socks on the wooden floor next to me. My dick was greedy for some action.

  “Better?” I asked cheekily.

  He eye fucked me, yes - eye fucked me and made no bones about it. From head to fucking toe he took his fill with a salacious grin tugging at his lips. I couldn’t get a read on him, didn’t know what he saw when he looked at me and all my stories while I was laid bare before him.

  He rested his lustful eyes on my dick and licked at his lips when he reached out and gripped me. Still languidly stroking himself, his fingers curled, the heat of his palm scalding.

  I hissed at him, he moaned at me. Standing there jacking himself off, I’d never felt so lost to anything. My hand joined his and I rubbed at my head, bringing my fingers to his lips a moment later to smear the wetness over his soft mouth. I couldn’t take anymore. I dove in, my tongue seeking out his, my mouth fighting against his own. All skin and cocks and muscle...and...and...shit, what? Divinity? Because it felt as if heaven had called me home, yet I was sitting in the pit with sin.

  Peeling away from him, thinking only when I felt him pour
down my throat might I wake up from this fantasy. I pushed him back roughly, hoping to convey my urgency and need, before sinking back down to my knees, ignoring the pain of hitting the floor, hungrily flicking my tongue across his slit. All that did was spur me on and I sank my mouth over him for a second time, his hands flying to my head. I gave a few hard, sucking strokes up and down before I was worshipping him, moaning and squirming as much as he was.

  His taste on my tongue was almost too much. My dick strained between my legs and I dared to inch my hand around to grip his arse firmly, holding on for leverage, as I jerked myself in time to the bob of my head. I kept swallowing him down, so goddamned close to coming all over the floor between us. The tensed muscles of Ayden’s rigid body a clue he wasn’t so far off either.

  Stopping everything, I peered up at him. With his eyes screwed shut and sweat dripping down his chest, I’d never seen a more spectacular sight. But I wanted him with me, to watch and see it all, how he affected me.

  “Ayden!” I snapped, and his eyes sprang open, meeting mine. I stroked my length while he watched, his own jerking against my chin. “Take it.”

  Loosening my fingers from his arse, they slipped between his cheeks, probing for the thing I wanted most. Again, I sucked him down, stroking his hole lazily, the zing in my balls becoming impossible to ignore. The thought of sticking my dick where my finger was and riding him until he couldn’t walk too much to imagine.

  Ayden found his groove and did as I asked - he took. Grabbing my hair, he pulled back my head before thrusting into my mouth. He fucked me like I didn’t matter, like I was the trash he most likely saw. He used and didn’t bat a fucking eyelid when I choked. I couldn’t take his full length before, but I was now, as he stuffed my mouth, forcing his way to the back of my throat, time and time again.

  I fucking loved it.

  Nonsensical words fell from his lips as he rammed his crotch in my face, not holding back anymore. I inhaled heavily and found glory in the fact he fucked the way I liked and was no longer afraid to show it. His head swelled in my throat on a slow, deep thrust and I took a gulp, my muscles constricting. Harsh grunts and even harsher thrusts had him coming a few strokes later, his cum choking me as I struggled to breathe. I wrenched out of his hold and tipped my head upwards as he spurted the last of his orgasm over my face and my neck to a cacophony of grunts and growls of pleasure.

  I let go of everything and fell backwards, lying flat on the floor with my cock begging for attention. Gulping in great breaths, I startled when Ayden followed me down and took me in his mouth, dragging me to completion. A ragged, long awaited version of bliss overcame me, and I burned. Nothing else existed except the throb of my dick and the sweat slicked body slowly sliding over me. Even my eyes refused to cooperate.

  “Playing with fire,” I sighed, “worth every blister.”

  Ayden

  Gripp’s lithe limbs underneath me tensed as my hands gripped his hair and I pinned his head to the floor. I kissed him with fiery intent, wishing I hadn’t already come. His groan into my mouth was long and echoed against my chest as his fingers dug into the flesh of my arse. The taste I’d had wasn’t enough, nowhere near enough. I wanted to choke him with my cock while I wrapped my hands around his throat.

  Pulling away, I reluctantly unwound my arms from around him. That was it, the end. I’d had my half hour with a piece of the illicit that was Gripp, it would have to do. He was Sophie’s brother. What had gone down shouldn’t have happened, couldn’t happen again.

  “You need to leave.”

  I jumped to my feet, kicking his clothes toward him. He moved upwards, his ink puckering and illegible as he sat with not a care in the world. I couldn’t help ogling his cock, peering at the smudge of black ink there. Even soft, he was enticing, mouth-watering. To have that fuck me would have been amazing, but this was all I was getting. I had to walk away.

  “Wow. Cold, man.”

  The t-shirt I’d picked up went over my head and I pushed my arms through the holes, feeling better at kicking Gripp’s arse out while I was fully clothed and didn’t have any vulnerable parts showing. Standing rigid above him, he took his time meandering around and getting dressed.

  “You’re not a cuddler then?” he laughed.

  What a bitch. I really liked the guy, his humour, his didn’t give a fuck attitude - he was a bad boy through and through. How I liked my partners unfortunately, although I’d never quite met anyone like him before. I was a hugger; a sappy, hanging onto you all night kind of cuddler too, liking the connection. Warm skin against mine. There was no way I was going to admit that to him, it was pointless anyway, never going to happen.

  Once he was dressed and tying up his boots, his demeanour changed entirely, you could see him physically morph into the street guy he showed the world. The softness that had been there moments ago, replaced with something edgier, harsher.

  “I don’t want Sophie coming back to the flat. She’s safer here.”

  “No problem,” I promised. “As long as she wants, she can stay.”

  “No. You make her stay,” he said, getting to his feet and striding to the door. “If she makes to leave, you persuade her otherwise. I love my sister, but she doesn’t belong in that flat with me. She deserves far better.”

  I was baffled at his words, perplexed at the need to explain something I had no control over. The way I lived my life was easy in comparison to his, but I wasn’t going to apologise for it. Having no idea how to voice my aggravation without sounding arrogant, I kept my mouth shut.

  He slipped quietly out the front door without another word, leaving the Loft feeling ominous and hollow, smelling of sinful sex.

  * * *

  Unknown: Hey. How R U?

  The first text came the next day, I didn’t need a degree to figure out who it was, vaguely recognising the number I’d deleted after I’d texted Gripp at the club that night. Still, I deliberated over it for two hours until I was sure it was him. I didn’t answer back, couldn’t go down this road. It was a train wreck waiting to happen.

  Unknown: U wanna meet?

  Another text a few days later, I assigned ‘Gripp’ to the number, curious to see how long he’d flog a dead horse. I contemplated that one for a couple of hours too, before deciding it was a bad idea and his second text went unanswered too. Uni was kicking my butt, and as much as letting the hair down appealed, with him - not so much.

  From there on, every few days Gripp sent a text. Some were random, some were pushy, yet never impolite, or crossing any lines. I left them all alone. He was the kind of guy who would only take no for an answer for so long before deciding enough was enough. He’d walk away and that would be the end of that.

  So, the text that came two and a half weeks after the first one totally threw me for a loop.

  Gripp: You wanna hook-up? I’m so fucking horny thinking about you.

  Although taken aback at the forthright words, I felt my balls tighten. It was about eight o’clock in the morning and I had no real hurry to be at Uni, early rising wasn’t an issue unless you counted the thing in my boxers stirring awake. Reaching down, I squeezed myself through the soft cotton, groaning. I needed to pee.

  I crawled off my bed and staggered into the en-suite, my hard on making pissing a daunting task. I always looked like something out of a Quasimodo movie, bent in half with a jet stream flowing from my dick as I tried to pee into the bowl and not on my feet.

  Once I’d successfully managed not to soak my bathroom and my erection had deflated a little, I decided I’d have another hour under the duvet. Listening to who was up, I heard the faint chatter of Sophie and Jake. Nothing legible, both doing breakfast. I flipped my phone back on, scrolling through social media which was always an effective way to kill an hour. I didn’t use it often, other people’s drama too much for my liking, but some pages linked to excellent sports medicine sites and articles, so I tolerated the other bullshit for the sake of those.

  A text alert flashed up
and I saw it was Gripp again. Unusual to get two in such short succession; my curiosity got the better of me, I was suddenly eager to see what he was saying. I hadn’t replied to anything but for a weird reason, I looked forward to receiving them.

  The text flashed open and I squeezed my eyes shut tight. Good. Fucking. Lord. He’d sent me a dick pic. The big, flushed head the focal point, the slit pointed right at me, blurry tattooed hand at the bottom. It’s not that I didn’t want to see it, because I did. I knew I’d be jacking off to that picture far more than I would have liked to have admitted and it annoyed me. I threw the phone on the floor, uncaring if the bloody thing broke on the solid wood. This had to stop. Gripp was taking up far too much of my time. I had no space in my life for the drama he’d ultimately bring my way.

  Keep ignoring them.

  What I should have done was block the number as it hadn’t been enough to simply delete before. Yet - I couldn’t bring myself to do the one thing I really, really should have. I was a masochist, a danger to my own sanity.

  Pathetic.

  Ayden

  Quiet. The Loft was too quiet.

  Sophie was home; her shoes were at the front door. She’d be dancing at this time of day but the upbeat tempo that normally rang through the flat was absent. I shoved the last of my Uni books onto the kitchen counter then walked down the hallway in search of her, bypassing my own room. I knocked quietly on her bedroom door in case she was sleeping. She’d been up late, finishing her coursework, I didn’t want to disturb her if she’d taken a nap. Standing for a minute, listening at the door, hearing nothing from the other side, I walked back up the hallway, stopping short at the dining room door.

  It was closed but I could hear a distinct sniffle from beyond. Sophie. And it sounded like she was crying.

  I didn’t knock before pushing the door open wide and walking in. I sighed when I saw her sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, knees up to her chin, head sideways. Her eyes met mine and tears dripped from her cheek, she made no attempt to wipe them away.