Page 57 of Shattered Hate

We break apart, gasping for air. Daxton’s eyes are wild, pupils blown wide with desire. His lips are swollen and bright red, hair mussed from my fingers. He’s never looked more beautiful.

“I…” he begins, his voice gravelly with emotion. But the words seem to escape him as he pulls me into an embrace once more. His tongue invades my mouth.

It’s wild.

It’s sloppy.

It’s messy.

It’s rough

But it’s so damn perfect.

His teeth sink into my lips as he bites hard, and I take the lead, guiding him with a determined urgency to where I want him. As I do, I start to strip off my gear, ensuring my lips never break contact with his. I need his lips like I need air right now.

My fingers clumsily work at his belt buckle, trembling with impatience, but he suddenly snaps back to reality. He pulls back.

“Wha—what are you doing?” He gasps, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts. Blood stains his lips and chin. I wipe my finger against my lip, catching the blood from where he bit me.

“I need you right fucking now,” I growl, my voice a low, urgent rumble as I tug at his shirt. It’s then that he realizes where I’ve moved him.

The showers.

Daxton hastily tears at the remainder of his clothes as I pull the rest of mine off quicker than I think I ever have done, and I push him into a shower stall. I twist the knob, and the shower sputters to life, the initial blast of cold water hitting us like shards of ice. Yet neither of us flinches. The water streams down, slicking Daxton’s dark hair against his forehead. His eyes, intense and smoldering with desire, meet mine, and I find myself unable to look away. The chill of the shower fades as adifferent kind of warmth blossoms between us, steam rising in tendrils from our skin.

I press him against the cool, slick tiles, my hands exploring the contours of his lean muscles. Each touch sends jolts of electricity through me. His artistic fingers trace intricate patterns across my back, igniting trails of fire wherever they pass. I shiver, but not from the cold.

“Dax,” I whisper against his neck, inhaling his scent deeply before letting my tongue glide up his skin. The taste of him mingling with the water is intoxicating. It’s overwhelming.

In response, he pulls me closer, our bodies melding together as soft lips capture mine again. I glide my tongue over his lips, collecting my blood. My hands wander lower, and Daxton gasps into my mouth as I wrap my hand around his dick. Suddenly, I pause. I pull back from Daxton, eyes wide with surprise, and glance down. There, a silver hoop protrudes from the head of his dick. I step back slightly, staring in fascination at how it pierces through, entering at the top and emerging at the bottom, curving around.

Daxton breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling, as I stand there, holding his dick as if it were a fucking masterpiece.

I mean, it pretty much is. The air is thick with steam, and my eyes are drawn to the metal glinting on the thick, rigid cock that’s leaking like it’s got an endless supply. I reach out, swipe my thumb over the slick tip, and bring it to my lips, craving his fucking taste like it’s the antidote to a poison.

“Shit.” Daxton gasps, his body jerking as if he’s been shocked.

“You taste just as good as I imagined, Dax,” I growl. I’m hoarse with lust. He whimpers as I rub my thumb over the cool metal of his piercing, his body trembling like a leaf in a storm. I trail my fingers down the thick veins that pulse along his dick, feeling the heat of him, the silkiness of his skin. Fuck, his cock is like a workof art. My hand moves down, cupping his heavy, full balls before giving them a gentle squeeze, causing him to gasp again.

“Turn around for me, Dax. Press your chest to the wall, and spread those cheeks for me.” I smirk, and he nods eagerly, turning to face the cold, wet tiles. He grips his ass, fingers digging into the firm flesh, and pulls open, presenting himself to me like a fucking gift.

“Fucking hell. Look at you.” I groan, the words ripped from my throat. I kneel behind him, push his hands away, and my fingers dig into his ass cheeks, spreading them wide. His hole pulses, begging to be licked, and I dive in, not wasting time. My balls are drawn up tight, aching with the need for release, but I don’t want to rush this with Daxton. I flatten my tongue and lap at his hole, savoring every whimper and whine that echoes off the tiles. I feel the tremble in his legs as I stiffen my tongue and push into his tight heat.

“Trayton.” He purrs my name like a prayer, over and over. I moan into his heat, the sound of my name on his lips making me fucking feral. I need to be inside him. Now. I stand up and spit on his hole once, twice, three times, then push two fingers into him, urgent and demanding, as I scissor my digits over and over until he’s a moaning mess. I don’t have time to be gentle. I feel like I might die if I’m not inside him within the next twenty seconds. The water cascading down our bodies helps, and I line my aching cock up with his hole. “I’m clean,” I whisper.

Daxton gasps and then nods. “Me too.”

“I’m not being gentle, Daxton,” I rasp. I barely recognize myself.

“I don’t want you to be gentle,” he snaps. He’s breathless and desperate, like he needs me just as much as I need him.

I swallow hard, my throat constricting as I slowly push the head of my cock inside him. The water is still warm. The tiles are slick beneath my feet as I slide in one inch, then two, then three.Daxton’s breath hitches, his body tensing as I drag my tongue up the curve of his neck, pushing myself a fraction deeper. A low, guttural moan escapes his throat, resonating through his back and into my chest.

“Remember, I hate you. I just want to fuck you,” I whisper, my desire making me hoarse.

“Then hate me and fuck me,” he growls.

I thrust into him, hard and deep, then pull back; the water cascades off his shoulders and runs like a stream down his back.

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