Page 2 of Pull
“What does it feel like…?” he murmured, quiet, almost inaudible. I frowned up at his shadowed face.
It feels like fucking Hell, Tate. It feels like death a thousand times over, being in love with someone you can’t have.
My body reacted on its own to the sadness and guilt, and I grabbed his jaw, pulling his lips to mine. He gasped, mainly out of surprise, but partly because I forgot his lipwas cut open. I could already taste the blood…
But I didn’t care. I kissed him harder, because I had to. Because he washere, and I needed it. I needed his body, in that moment, to distract me from my broken heart, still struggling to keep beating.
Rolling on top of him, I pinned him to the mattress, sucking his lip and touching his tongue with mine. I ground my hips into his, feeling him harden beneath me.
We said nothing more. I didn’t answer his question, because Icouldn’t. We just kept kissing and touching. I turned my brain off and allowed the lust to fuel me; the desire to be with the man I loved, who wasn’t there.
It was horrible, and I felt awful inside. But I needed something. I needed tofeel.
Flipping Tate forcefully onto his stomach, I yanked his boxers down his legs while he pressed his hips up to meet my erection. He was panting; so obviouslywanting me to fuck him, and erase the memories of what happened tonight. The fucked-up mess we’d caused together…
My lips brushed the nape of his neck while I removed my Calvins, kicking them away before spreading his legs with my knee. Growling and gasping, my movements were almost frantic in my attempt to prove I was fine. I don’t think I was fooling anyone.
Tate squirmed away for a moment, and came back to me with a condom and some lube, which I wasted absolutely no time tearing open and sliding onto my cock. I squeezed out some lubrication and coated myself, gliding my wet fingers between his cheeks.
“Fuck…” he hummed, bending at the knees.
I stared down at his body for a moment. It was very dark in his room, but not nearly as dark as it would have needed to be for me to think he was someone else.
My throat constricted.He’s not Ben.
I rumbled to myself and closed my eyes, shaking my head as I spread him open and probed his hole with the tip of my dick.
This isn’t what you want.
I pushed more, breaking into him slowly while he moaned my name.
It’s not him.
“Fuck me…” he breathed, lifting his hips higher, forcing me in deeper.
Shoving my aching cock further into his ass, it throbbed at the tightness, and how fucking wrong it was, what I was doing. It felt wonderful and terrible all in the same.
My movements picked up as I thrust into him, pulling out and pushing back in, fucking him slow and deep. I gripped the sheets in my fist as I pumped my cock in and out, my balls meeting his.
In that moment, I was a machine, driven strictly by urges and the want to forget. I was so emotionally detached I barely even recognized myself.
“Is this how you fuck him?” Tate’s brusque voice crept up to me and I groaned out loud, grabbing his ass hard. “Is this how it feels to be him…?”
Biting down hard on my lip, my tempo slowed. I imagined Ben’s big, hard, perfect fucking body under me, writhing around in his need for me. His perfect ass, his smooth skin; how delicious he tasted.
I wanted him so bad, and I couldn’t fucking have him,ever, the thought of which made me nauseous. But I was also screwing at the moment, my dick buried inside something, stroking, which did feel excellent.
There was a war going on between my brain, my heart and my body. And none of them had the slightest clue who was winning.
“I know you love him, Ryan…” Tate gasped while I pounded into him, slowly yet so deep and hard that his bed was shaking.
“Fuck…” I choked out a sob, chomping on my lip again for fear I would cry out Ben’s name.
I wanted to say it so bad.I knew it was wrong… But God dammit… I wantedhim.
I wished it was him beneath me. That was the problem. All I wanted in the world was Ben’s love, and I couldn’t fucking have it.
I was desperate, needy, and retching in despair.
