Follow the River (River of Rain Book 1) Page 11

  Oh, how the tables have turned.

  “It’s okay to admit it, you know. Because I don’t mind giving you a piece of the action too.” Rolling my teeth over my bottom lip, I slide a hand down from the locker, gripping his chin in my hand. His breaths come out in short, staggered pants as my gaze moves over his face, resting on his cheekbones, his jaw.

  His lips.

  The top slightly thinner than the bottom, but still pink and perfect and fucking right there for the taking.

  He must notice what has caught my attention because he grabs my jaw and yanks my head up, forcing my eyes to meet his. “If you kiss me, I swear on my life, I’ll fucking kill you and everyone you’ve ever met.” His growl is missing its usual bite though, and when my fingers graze down his obliques, I swear he fucking trembles under my touch.

  “You’re full of death threats today, huh baby?”

  “River, I fucking swear—”

  “Relax,” I soothe, cutting off his protest. “Who said anything about kissing?” I knock his hand off my face and move in again, rubbing my nose down the length of his jaw. Tightening my hold on his chin, I pull his head to the side to give me access to his neck. My lips brush against the pulse there, a whisper of a touch, and this time he really does shudder.

  I grin before nipping at his collarbone as my free hand fingers the edge of the towel wrapped around his waist, slowly creeping towards the knot holding it together. “I’d much rather bite. Lick. Suck and fuck. Leave marks on you that a kiss just doesn’t accomplish.”

  And then I drop my knees.

  Bringing down the only barrier of decency he had with me.

  Panic floods my veins as my towel drops from my hips to the floor, landing at my feet between us.

  No, not between us. Under him. Under his fucking knees.

  Because the cocksucker is on his goddamn knees in front of me, naked as the day I was born, staring at my dick like it’s a lollipop and all he wants to do is take a fucking lick.

  And that isn’t even the worst part.

  I’m also—to my horror—hard. Harder than stone. Granite. A fucking diamond.

  No. No. Fuck me. No!

  The way he grins up at me before snaking his hands around the backs of my thighs, right below my ass cheeks, has me clutching the sides of my cubby behind me so I don’t lose my balance entirely.

  Because the look he’s giving me—my cock—is like a kid on Christmas morning. Effectively tilting my entire world on its axis.

  “Looks to me like you’re ready to take me up on my offer of a nice blowie after all, huh, baby?” he taunts before his wicked tongue lashes out, swiping against the tip of my cock at an agonizingly torturous pace.

  A groan slips from my lips without permission, and I curse myself—and him—for the precarious situation I find myself in. My knuckles blanche as he runs the flat of his tongue from my base to crown in a long, languid stroke, flicking the tip at the sensitive underside of the head.

  It’s fucking torment and bliss wrapped into a single six-foot-two package.

  “Fuck,” I breathe, my eyes begging to close and allow my brain to enjoy the pleasure being wreaked on my body. But I can’t look away.

  Before I can make a move to push him away, because that’s what I should do, his tongue travels down one side of my V. It slides across my lower torso, just above the base of my dick, then back up the other side. He pays special attention to the inked line of text on my hip, nibbling at the tattoo with his perfect fucking teeth before lapping at the imprints he left behind.

  “Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall,” he murmurs, his hot breath whispering across my hip as he reads the Shakespeare quote, written in a gothic font. The one I got the day I turned eighteen, if only to remind me the dirty, ugly truth of this world is the vile and corrupt will always claw their way to the top, and the good never get what they deserve.

  I should know. I’ve seen it. Lived it.

  And to my shame, embody it.

  His teeth latch onto the word sin and my fucking God, what it does to my cock is just that.

  Sinful.

  Every inch of my skin tingles where he touches me. And even where he isn’t. Fire and ice lick through my veins with every swipe of his tongue and harsh bite of his teeth, making my brain short circuit in pleasure.

  A pleasure only serving to cause me self-loathing and agony.

  Jesus Christ, I’ve died and gone straight to hell.

  Moving his assault up to below my belly button, he traces his mouth down the thin happy trail leading back to my aching cock. It bobs with need as his mouth comes near again, pleading for his attention.

  “And here I thought you didn’t like me,” he laughs against my skin, the sound husky and threaded with desire.

  “I don’t,” I hiss through gritted teeth, begging my body to get on board with my mind. But my cock has a mind of its own, and he is firmly in what camp gets him deep down River’s throat. And my body continues to fucking betray me, throbbing and desperate to cum on the spot when one of his hands brush across my taint on its way to wrap around my dick.

  “Your cock begs to differ.”

  And then his mouth surrounds me, enveloping my length in the most glorious fucking way I’ve ever felt. I don’t think anything—mouth, pussy, or otherwise—has ever set each and every nerve ending in my body on fire from a single touch.

  His mouth…it will be my fucking undoing.

  My eyes snap closed on impulse as he takes me deep in his mouth, working me back down his throat. He’s not gentle or shy about the way he touches and sucks and fucks me with his mouth, moving faster and more assured than any other person ever has while bobbing on my cock.

  All except one.

  And when I open my eyes again, it’s not the teal oceans of River’s eyes staring back up at me, but two chocolate orbs I despise.

  My lip curls back in a snarl as I watch my length disappear down his throat with every pump of my hips, but his eyes never leave mine. They always watch me, never look away for even a moment. As if he doesn’t want to miss a fucking second of what he does to me.

  Without a second thought, my fingers fly to the dark blonde hair at the top of his head, tangling through the strands as I struggle to get a better grip. Clutching his hair for dear life, I start slamming my hips forward, hitting the back of his throat with each measured thrust. Water wells in the corner of his eyes, but he still holds my gaze.

  Look away. Fucking look away, goddamnit.

  But he won’t give in, no matter how hard and fast I fuck his face, using my hands to pull his mouth on me at a rapid pace while at the same time pounding forward into him. His hands cup my balls and he kneads them gently in his palm, pulling and tugging at just the right moments, when my cock is in the deepest part of his throat, to have me seeing stars.

  But then something strange happens.

  His eyes, they shift from brown to aqua for a split second just before…they close. They fucking close as he releases my cock, moving down below it before sucking one of my balls into his mouth.

  He’s never done this before.

  His fingers gently brush my inner thigh, his touch a light, teasing caress, as his tongue swirls around my sac, licking and milking it as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. A moan slips past my lips at the thought of him never being able to do this to me again.

  Because he won’t. This will be the last fucking time.

  When his mouth disengages from my balls, I groan.

  Damn him for making this feel so fucking good.

  I feel his tongue trace a lazy path down my taint before descending down the inside of my thigh in hot, open mouthed sucks.

  Another new piece added to this never-ending nightmare.

  “I had a feeling you’d like having your balls sucked, baby,” he mumbles against my skin, but the voice is all wrong, just like the words. It’s not deep enough, not filled with the memories of verbal lashings and torment.

  And he
never speaks, not until after.

  “I bet you’d love it even more with a finger in your ass. Or maybe you’d prefer my tongue.”

  My eyes snap open, dazed and confused as I see a head full of brown hair making its way back up toward my cock. River’s ocean eyes latch onto mine for a brief moment before sliding closed as his mouth surrounds my length once again.

  River.

  I shudder, not only from the pleasure his mouth is giving me, but out of relief.

  Thank fuck. It’s just River.

  Fuck. Wait. No.

  It’s fucking River.

  It’s been him…this whole time.

  Mortification slams into me at a neck-breaking speed because for fuck’s sake I just…he’s…and I’m…

  I need to end this, before it goes too far, or even further than I’ve already taken it, but my brain can’t formulate a thought past the ecstasy his mouth is giving my body.

  My fingers slide into his hair in an attempt to pull him off me. But it doesn’t work. He doesn’t let me. Just keeps working me over with his tongue that lashes right back at my most brutal insults. Those lips that smirk each time he realizes he’s weighted and measured me, only to back me into a corner.

  Exactly where he wants me.

  Like he has right now.

  As if sensing my thoughts, his eyes snap back open to mine.

  Blue as a fucking ocean. Not brown.

  Not. Brown.

  I watch, transfixed, as he moves up and down my length, eyes locked on mine. And the sight of my cock between his pink lips, his gaze staring deep into my soul, it has me fighting so damn hard not to shoot my load into his mouth.

  “You on your goddamn knees for me…it’s a good fucking look on you.” Shifting my hips, I roll them into him, letting him take me impossibly deep down his throat. My fingers, still wrapped in his hair, clutch at the strands and I hold him steady while I fuck his face again.

  But this time, it’s him I see.

  Only him.

  He gives me control over him, the one thing I’ve craved from him since the beginning of this fucked up mess between us, and it does something to me.

  He lights a fire inside me I’ve never felt before, burning brighter than the sun, consuming me in flames and embers. It’s dangerous intensity threatens to char each and every inch of my perfectly crafted facade of indifference towards him.

  Because as much as I fucking can’t stand it, I’m not indifferent to him. I feel the chemistry buzzing between us. It’s liquid hot. I’d have to be deaf, dumb, and stupid to not feel it.

  Doesn’t mean I fucking want it.

  A low moan comes from River while my cock is lodged deep down his throat, so deep I swear I can see it moving behind his Adam’s apple. His eyes ensnare mine as he practically swallows my cock whole, the sensation causing me to go off like a rocket, spilling into the back of his throat before I can stop it.

  He continues to suck my dick, swirling his tongue around it as I grunt, continuing to spray the longest fucking orgasm of my life into his stomach. And he keeps licking, like it's a goddamn sucker. Not letting up on his assault on me until my hand releases its hold on his hair.

  Once he’s satisfied to have sucked and lapped every last drop of cum from me, River leans back on his heels and glances up at me. His chest is heaving as he attempts to regulate his breathing. Unspoken words flash between us, the most prevalent being this…never fucking happened. I’m screaming it in my mind, but my lips can’t form the words. All I can do is gape at him.

  Stare at the tiny glistening spot of cum at the corner of his mouth.

  His tongue flicks out to lick his lips and he must taste or feel it, because his thumb reaches up and wipes it away before bringing it out in front of his face to look at the transferred fluid.

  And then the strangest thing happens.

  He smirks at my cum on his finger. Breaks out into a huge fucking grin, actually, like the sight of it is the funniest damn thing in the world.

  To be clear, it’s not funny. At all.

  It’s actually really fucking bad.

  He’s had my cock in his mouth. Tasted my skin. My cum. My fucking desire for him.

  And it’s so fucking wrong.

  The glimmer of liquid sitting on the pad of his thumb shows…he finally got to me.

  He licks his lips as he rises from his knees and laughs, a sound so rich and decadent, like warm honey. I fucking hate that I like it.

  And when he’s directly in front of me again, our eyes at the same level, I swear to fucking God he’s about to lick that drop of cum off his finger in the vulgar way men do after eating pussy.

  It’s honestly a move I can see River pulling, the dickwad fuckboy he is.

  I open my mouth to tell him off, to tell him to fucking leave, to fucking say something, but the second I do, his thumb is in inside it. Brushing against my tongue, leaving behind the salty tang of my cum.

  Mother. Fucker.

  His thumb presses against my tongue with enough pressure to keep me from speaking and he leans forward, his lips brushing against my ear. “I love the way you fight me, baby. It makes the taste of your cum that much fucking sweeter.”

  And then he pushes off the locker, grabbing his bag on the way to the door.

  Not bothering to look back.

  I hear my name being called as I open the entry door from the quad to the weight room, just wanting to get in a quick workout before the next couple days off. When I spin around, I spot River halfway across the open courtyard attempting to flag me down.

  I’d never admit it, but I’ve been avoiding him ever since the…incident…in the locker room.

  The incident being the best fucking blow job I’ve ever received.

  By none other than River motherfucking Lennox.

  But it’s not like he’s seeking me out either.

  It’s been weeks since then, but shit is still so fucking awkward. We don’t fight each other, don’t make snide or taunting remarks. We don’t even make fucking eye contact when we’re in practice, like we’ve come to an unspoken agreement. The night in the locker room never happened if we pretend the other doesn’t exist.

  It’s been working pretty damn well so far, in my opinion.

  So why is he breaking the stalemate now?

  My teeth grind together as he jogs my way, stopping at the bottom of the steps. He quirks a brow and nods to my gym bag slung across my chest. “What are you doing? We aren’t scheduled to lift today. Or practice. Next two days, we’re home free.”

  “I know,” I bite, “but I don’t have anything better to do since Pennsylvania and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms right now, so I’ll be fucking around here for the next few days with nothing to do.”

  His brows furrow. “You aren’t going home?” he asks, completely ignoring my sharp tone.

  I scoff. “For two days? No, I won’t be.”

  “Then what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

  I sigh, rolling my eyes because Jesus fuck he’s nosy. “Do you actually care? Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get the hell inside to lift before my grandkids are born.”

  River is up the steps and in my face faster than Rocky fucking Balboa. “Would it kill you to be civil, you inconsiderate douchenozzle? I was about to invite you to my Thanksgiving since you won’t be able to spend the day with your family.”

  I take a step back, confused.

  “What? Why the fuck would you do that?” I narrow my eyes at him. “As if I would even accept your goddamn pity invite.”

  River sighs, clasping his fingers together on the back of his head atop his backwards hat and starts backing down the stairs with a stupid amount of ease, not the least bit concerned he might trip and fall. “Sorry for trying to be a decent human being. Fucking forget it, Rain.”

  He used that damn nickname again.

  “I thought I told you not to call me that?” I hiss, my grip tightening on the handle of the door.

  He cocks hi
s head to the side, as if to think about it. “Did you? Huh, I must’ve forgotten after you willingly fucked my mouth in the locker room.”

  There it is. Motherfucker.

  I’m down the stairs with my hand around his throat in an instant, backing him into the waist height stone wall lining the staircase up the building. His eyes, more blue than green today, shine with delightful recognition of the fury he just brought forth in me.

  For some messed up reason, he loves riling me up.

  And for some goddamn reason…I fucking let him.

  Every single time.

  “We don’t fucking speak of that. Ever,” I growl, my nose brushing his as I speak. “It never. Fucking. Happened.”

  River leans into me, forcing his windpipe against my palm even more. “Or what?” he whispers, probably because he can’t speak at any louder volume. His mouth is hovering over mine, soft and taunting, and I feel my dick twitch behind my zipper at the feel of his body against mine.

  Goddamnit, what the hell?

  “What are you going to do, Rain? Fuck me in an attempt to bend me to your will?” He smirks and I fucking feel it against my mouth and fuck yes that’s exactly what I want in this moment. “Sorry to disappoint baby, but you should know by now I’m anything but docile.”

  His hand somehow has snaked its way up and is latching on my throat before I can protest, catching me off guard. Taking full advantage of my shock, River spins us around, pressing me back into the stone with his entire body.

  I still have a grip on his neck but his hand feels much tighter around my throat. Then I feel the thick ridge of his erection rub against my leg and my traitorous cock decides he loves it, stiffening painfully in my pants, despite my mental revulsion.

  Shit.

  “In fact, some would even say I love having the upper hand, holding all the cards,” his eyes flash to mine and his smile is wicked. “Being the dominant.” His mouth moves to my ear and he gives the lobe a soft bite, right there in the fucking quad for the entire fucking campus to fucking see. I’m horrified someone might catch us.

  But also…turned the fuck on.

  So turned on, I don’t even notice my hold on his throat has vanished.