Monster mash, p.54
Monster Mash, page 54
“You fucking bastard,” I panted when I was done, too worn out to truly be furious with him.
He pulled his lips free of me with a wet pop. A third tentacle gripped my chin, and he demanded, “Open your mouth.”
I was so cum drunk, I obeyed without thinking. Still holding me in place so I couldn’t move or squirm, Vic loomed over me. His tongue slid out, and my eyes widened when I realized it was still covered in my cum. My cock twitched as a mix of his spit and my cum dribbled down into my open mouth and over my beard. Normally, I wasn’t into that sort of thing, but when Vic did it, I was. It was starting to seem like there wasn’t anything he could do I wouldn’t be into, and I hated him for it.
I shuddered, completely humiliated, as he chuckled and ran a tentacle through my beard.
“You look so fucking hot with cum in your beard, Rebel.” He leaned forward, his lithe body pressed against mine as he whispered, “You’d look even better if it was my cum.”
That was it. I couldn’t take his smug, bragging voice anymore. I yanked my arms free, clearly surprising him, but he laughed as I pushed him off of me. He waved his tentacles in front of my face, so I caught them and pinned them to the bed, climbing on top of him.
“Oh, no,” he taunted. “What’s the big, bad scary human going to do to me? I’m sure I’ll hate it, whatever it is.”
“I’m going to make you beg, Vic,” I promised and flipped him onto his stomach.
“I’m trembling with fear,” he lied and chuckled.
“Get your ass in the air. Now.”
That made him sober up a little. He pushed up and looked back at me, his forehead wrinkled. “What?”
I didn’t wait for him to obey. He yelped as I repositioned him. Pain throbbed in my shoulder, but I ignored it. Getting Vic to submit was more important than pain. Hearing him beg me to let him come was going to be the highlight of this entire trip. It’d be his salvation, the only way I’d ever forgive him for all the shit he’d pulled.
Because he didn’t have legs like a human, it was a little confusing at first to get him positioned, but I found his ass easily enough and yanked it up. He gave a huff and started to protest as I spread him open, but that died off quickly when I swiped my tongue over his hole. Vic let out the sluttiest little moan and let his head fall to the mattress in surrender. No more protests from him. In fact, he lifted his ass and happily reached back with his tentacles to hold himself open for me.
“That’s right,” I growled and flicked my tongue over his hole. “This the attention you wanted from me all this time, huh? My tongue in that tight, needy hole of yours?”
His response was a moan.
I gripped the back of his neck. “Not good enough. I want to hear it. Tell me that’s what you want from me.”
“I want it,” he choked out.
“What?”
He turned his head, flashing sharp, gritted teeth. “I want your fucking tongue in my ass, okay? You win.”
“That’s more like it.” I gripped his hips and dove in, licking and sucking with everything I had.
Vic trembled in response and moaned so loud, I was glad there was a snowstorm howling outside or we’d have the neighbors coming over to check on us. “Oh fuck,” he whimpered into the sheets. “Your beard. God, it’s on my balls… It feels so fucking good!”
“You like that?” I intentionally pressed the rough hairs of my beard into his balls and smirked as his cock dribbled onto the mattress, hanging hard, heavy, and unsatisfied. He hadn’t even tried to touch it.
“Yes!” he gasped.
I leaned back and spat on him, watching him shudder. Ah, Vic. Of course he was into spit play, and I was going to milk that for all it was worth. I spat on his hole again, and it twitched as he moaned.
“You want more than just my tongue, don’t you? Admit it.” I said, and gently massaged the spit over him with a finger.
He bit his lip and shook his head.
“Don’t be stubborn.” I gently pressed in, not enough to breach his body, but enough that I knew he was feeling the pressure.
“Ah, fuck, Rebel…”
“You want it, don’t you?” I teased his entrance, spitting on it and rubbing it in again.
“Yes!” he shouted, eventually. “Dammit, Rebel, just put something in me!”
“There it is!” I grinned triumphantly and slid a single digit in. “Look at that greedy hole. Practically sucked my fat finger right in.”
Vic’s only answer was a needy whimper as I started pumping it in and out of him. I gave him a few seconds to adjust before adding a second finger. His eyelashes fluttered and his tentacles writhed. Little droplets of sweat formed on the back of his neck. I leaned into him, licking it off.
“You want more than my fingers, don’t you, Vic?” I whispered against his neck. “You want my fat cock in this tight little hole, don’t you?”
He whimpered and nodded.
God, those sounds were going straight to my dick, making me hard again in record time. I gripped his balls, kneading them gently. “Say it.”
He clenched his jaw defiantly, so I squeezed his balls and pushed my fingers hard into his prostate. Vic shouted and his cock jerked, leaking heavily as I massaged that sweet bundle of nerves inside him. He tried to rock back to get more, but I wouldn’t let him. I just squeezed his balls tighter. To my surprise, he groaned and his cock pulsed, painting the quilt in his cum. His ass clenched around my fingers so tight, it made the joints ache.
“You asshole,” I said and snapped my other hand against his ass. “I didn’t say you could come.”
Vic yelped and pulled away, rolling onto his back. He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “You didn’t say I couldn’t either. Besides, it’s not my fault! Your fingers are fucking huge.”
“Yeah, well, now I’m gonna have to fuck you with my big cock as punishment.” I spat in my fist and spread it over my cock.
Vic’s eyes watched my hand move, the hunger in his eyes so intense, I couldn’t take it. I tapped his side to get him to flip over, but he shook his head. “I want to look at you this time.”
I frowned, considering calling the whole thing off, but I was horny as fuck, and he deserved a good, rough fuck as punishment. I spat on him and lined my cock up with his entrance, trying to ignore how good it felt to have his tentacles slowly wrap around me. His face morphed into a beautiful mix of pleasure and pain as I pushed into the pliant heat of his body.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” I ground out.
He made a choked sound. “I’m not tight. You’re just big!”
I smirked. “Go on. Tell me more about how big my cock is.”
“Fuck you,” he spat, boldly, and smirked for good measure.
“I’d much rather fuck you.” I withdrew almost completely from his body and slammed home again, making him whimper. “There you go. You want it like that? That’s what you fucking deserve, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he muttered and cried out as I did it again.
One of his tentacles wrapped tight around my ass in the perfect spot to be a springboard. Every time I pulled out, his tentacle pushed me back in faster and harder. Even though I was only working half as hard as normal, I was panting and sweating in no time. My shoulder and hip ached, but I didn’t slow down, didn’t stop.
This was the resolution we needed, the only thing that made sense. I’d hated him and wanted him for so long that this was the only way things could’ve gone.
I poured all of my anger and frustration into fucking him good and hard, but no matter how hard I went, he only begged for more.
“Greedy bastard,” I accused. “Even my cock’s not good enough for you, is it?”
“It is!” he half sobbed, throwing a tentacle over his face. “Fuck, Rebel! It’s so good. It’s so good!”
“No, it isn’t. You want my cum too, don’t you?”
Vic’s answer was incoherent pleas for more, harder, deeper, so I obliged, slamming into him so hard that it was sure to leave bruises on me. What were a few bruises, huh? I’d gotten more than my fair share while competing against him. I could take a few while I fucked him.
I got so into it that I didn’t notice what he was doing with his tentacle until the damn thing shoved itself up my ass. I gasped and my hips froze, my brain stuttering to a full stop as the tip of his tentacle whispered over my prostate. Sparks of pleasure shot through me, making me forget that I had told him I didn’t bottom. I didn’t even put toys up my ass. I was a strict top…wasn’t I?
“Don’t fight it,” Vic whispered and wrapped another tentacle around the back of my head, pulling me down into a kiss. He tried to pin my tongue with his and almost succeeded before I found my senses again.
“Shit!” I gritted my teeth and shuddered as one of his suckers settled over my prostate, the pressure so perfect, so good…
I came so hard I lost my vision for a second, shouting so loud that my throat ached.
“That’s it,” Vic purred, stroking his tentacle over the sensitive nerves, and somehow managing to ride my cock even though he was under me. “Give me all of it. Every last drop.”
I was helpless not to. Vic practically milked me dry with his body until I was writhing with overstimulation and wound up pleading for him to stop. So much for my plans to make him beg.
I shuddered and collapsed as soon as his tentacle withdrew, panting against his chest. “Holy fuck…Vic…You…”
“I’m amazing?” He chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “I know.”
I somehow found the strength to scowl and punch him in the ribs, even though there wasn’t much force behind it. “You’re a tentacled cum stealing asshole!”
Vic exploded with laughter and, irritated as I was that he’d wrung the orgasm of my life out of me against my will, I couldn’t help but smile a little too.
Rebel promptly fell asleep after, but I stayed awake, cataloguing his features and listening to him breathe. The moment almost didn’t feel real. The dull ache in my ass was the only proof that it was. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen into bed with the Rebel Rhail, especially since a few hours ago, I was convinced he hated me. Maybe he still did. Sex with him had been anything but affectionate, but maybe that was just how he was.
Why did he sleep with me? I wondered and gently stroked a tentacle over his chest, admiring the coarse hair there. Did it mean anything? Or was it just an act of desperation?
He stirred slightly, lips forming incoherent words that I wanted to taste. Instead, I just watched him, admiring him in silence like I’d been doing for years, except this was different. The longing pull I’d always felt toward him had been replaced by a churning, stirring fear that he’d wake up and this would all disappear. What if he refused to acknowledge what’d happened? Or worse, what if he regretted it?
He winced when I drew my tentacle over his injured shoulder and his eyes fluttered open, unfocused.
“Sorry,” I murmured and settled against the pillows, hoping he’d go back to sleep.
But Rebel couldn’t ever do what was best for him. He had to do the hardest thing. He turned over onto his stomach and stared at me. I stared back at him, unsure of where we stood or what I should say. His expression was unreadable, and his scent was too buried beneath sex and sweat to read.
“How’s your shoulder?” I cringed inwardly. The guy fucked you half to death and all you can say is, how’s your shoulder?
“Hurts,” he murmured, still staring at me.
“I think I might have some Tylenol if you want it.”
For a minute, I thought he might refuse me out of sheer stubbornness, but he gave a subtle nod. I threw back the covers and rushed into the bathroom where I’d put all my toiletries, hastily searching through my travel kit. There were only two left, so I hoped the pain didn’t linger too long. I emptied the bottle, filled a glass with some milk from the fridge, and brought him both.
When I returned to the room, I was disappointed to find Rebel had pulled on his boxers. He was squatting next to the darkened fireplace, trying to coax a small flame to life.
Rebel glanced up at me and then at the milk. “Could’ve just brought water.”
“You shouldn’t take these on an empty stomach.” I placed the milk and the pills on the bedside table, suddenly feeling awkwardly vulnerable since he’d gotten dressed and I hadn’t.
The fire suddenly flared to life, surprising Rebel enough that he grunted and fell back, landing on his hands. He hissed as he put too much weight on his arm. With a sigh, I went to help him up and back to bed.
“I’m fine,” he groused as I deposited the medicine in one hand and held out the glass of milk.
“Maybe you should go to a hospital, Rebel. Make sure nothing’s broken.”
“I’ve had worse.” He grunted and swallowed the pills.
I walked around the end of the bed and found my underwear, pulling them on. I debated throwing on the jeans too for another layer, but decided against it. I’d never been able to sleep in jeans. They were too uncomfortable. The bed squeaked under my weight as I settled in stiffly, careful to keep my distance from Rebel, who sat on the other side, his back to me. A weighted silence settled on the room, pushing us together, pulling us apart. I couldn’t decide. Was he waiting for me to bring it up? Maybe I shouldn’t at all. Maybe it was best to pretend we hadn’t had sex and just go back to being rivals. That would certainly be easier. That dynamic was familiar, even if I hated it. At least I’d know what to expect from him.
“What now?” Rebel asked the darkened corners of the room.
I sighed and rolled onto my back. “Well, it’s the middle of the night and the blizzard’s still going. I figure we’re stuck with each other for a bit longer yet. You need to rest up and heal.”
“Not that.” He slid further onto the mattress and turned to face me. “I meant…” He gestured vaguely.
Us. Just say it, Rebel.
But there wasn’t an us. There was him and me and the one desperate night we’d shared in that bed. Once the snowstorm cleared, he’d go back to his life, and I’d go back to mine and on the slopes we’d be…something.
I pretended not to know that’s where things were going and arched my brow.
Rebel sighed. “Snowboarding. Skiing. All that.”
I frowned and stared at the ceiling. “I’m not going to quit, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I don’t want you to quit, Vic. I just want…”
Silence followed. Did he even know what he wanted? Did I?
After a long moment, he flopped onto the bed, his head resting on my side. “I just want things to be like they were before.”
“Before?” I asked.
“Before you.”
My heart sank and something awful churned in my stomach. I looked away because if I looked at him, I knew it would hurt too much.
“I want to go back in time,” he continued. “Meet you some other way. Maybe you could just be a fan or a random person I met in a coffee shop. Maybe you’d have nothing to do with the games.”
“Maybe,” I agreed.
I loved the sport, and it hurt that Rebel thought we couldn’t find some common ground in it. We could still compete out there, but be something else in here, couldn’t we?
I tentatively put a tentacle on his forehead, brushing back his hair. It was the same color as the flames licking at the logs in the fireplace. “There aren’t any games in here, Rebel. No crowds. No cameras. No medals to win. It’s just us.”
He closed his eyes, letting me stroke my tentacle through his hair. For a moment, I could see it, how we might be if he’d just let it work. Whatever happened out there, we could shut it away when we were alone. I could make him tea or hot chocolate and we could lie just like that and not talk about sports or tricks or games. We’d put our medals away and melt together, competitors no longer, but two men with a shared love of a sport, and maybe each other.
But then Rebel sat up and said, “There is no us.”
The image of that future shattered like the thin layer of ice on the surface of a pond. It was impossible. Rebel was too set in his ways, and I was too desperate for his approval. We could never work.
That didn’t take the sting of his words away. My temper flared, and I gritted my teeth, folding my tentacles over my chest. “What was that earlier, then?”
His one good shoulder jerked up in a shrug. “Just blowing off steam.”
“Just blowing off steam?” I scowled, incredulous. Maybe that’s all it was to him, but to me, it was everything. “So I was just a convenient fuck for you and now it’s back to hating me?”
“I don’t hate you.” He said it so softly that all my anger melted away immediately. “I never hated you, Vic. I just hate being replaced.”
“Listen to me, Rebel.” I curled a tentacle around his chin and made him look at me. “I’m not here to replace you.”
His eyes shimmered, almost like he wanted to cry. “I know that isn’t your intent, but it’s what’s happening. I…I’m getting old. Maybe the sportscasters and the magazines are all right about me. Maybe it is time to retire.”
I shoved him flat against the mattress and loomed over him, flashing my sharp teeth. “If you quit, I’ll never fucking forgive you, Rebel.”
He stared up at me, his deep brown eyes hardening. “Why do you care?”
“I told you. You’re the reason I got into the games, Rebel. You’re everything I want to be.” You’re everything I want.
His eyes darted away and his bottom lip stuck out in a sullen pout. “That makes no goddamn sense. If I quit, I’ll be out of your way.”
“If you quit, I quit.”
Rebel’s gaze snapped back to mine. “I don’t fucking get you, Vic. You should want me to quit so I’ll be out of your way. If I leave, you’ll have no more competition.”
I gripped his face with my tentacles. “Don’t you get it, you stupid asshole? It’s not about the snowboarding or the skiing. I don’t give a fuck about the sport if you’re not in it. I’m there for you. To be close to you.”
