Take (Need #2)

by K. I. Lynn

  The warm spray of water falls on me as the door to her room slams shut.

  She left before I could tease her any more, before I could make her come, make us both come. Now, I’m left in a fucking state with my cock ready to burst.

  The music stops, but no new song begins.

  I’ll give her a new sound for her playlist.

  The tip of my dick is wet. Wet enough that I don’t need to reach for the soap. I palm the head, smearing all that precome around. Once my hand is nice and wet, I slide it across the top of my hard-on, around, squeezing tight.

  It’s almost enough to make me come.

  I let go of my cock and flatten my hands against the tiles. Leaning forward, I try breathing slowly in an effort to calm myself. I don’t want to come. Not yet.

  The agony of wanting Kira, of not having her, is fucking delicious. Logically, I know I shouldn’t get off on this pain, but I do. I want more. I’m already delirious for her, but I want to be pushed so far past the edge that the sickness in me becomes permanent.

  Maybe it already has.

  Her ass felt so good beneath the sensitive skin of my tip.

  My hips rock at the memory, thrusting my cock into empty air.

  “Fuck.” Reaching down with one hand, I cup my tight balls, tugging on them. Running my fingers in light circles around the soft, ridged skin, I close my eyes and imagine it’s Kira’s wet tongue.

  My dick throbs, and I feel more precome leak out.

  She’s close to giving in to me. I sense it every day a little more. If I were to get out of this shower right now and chase her to her room, she’d let me take what I want.

  She’d let me lay her on her bed and slowly spread her legs open.

  I lick my lips, imagining myself licking up and down her inner thigh.

  Would she be ticklish there? I’d spend extra time at the juncture of her thigh, teasing her with the tip of my tongue before sucking one juicy, bare lip into my mouth. My lower lip would rub across her clit and it would pulsate for me, tempting my tongue.

  Fuccck, it feels like it’s been forever since I last had that cute cunt in my mouth.

  I could have it right now. Her desire had been palpable. She rushed out of this shower because she couldn’t trust herself with me.

  But if I go after her, take it now, it’ll be a decision made solely by her body.

  I need the girl to choose me with all of her.

  I want her body.

  Her emotions.

  I want every fucking part of her mind and soul.

  My hand tightens around my balls in frustration; the slight pain only serves to make me hornier.

  I want her tugging on my balls like this. With her hand. Her teeth.

  Clenching my jaw, I fight the urge to jerk myself a little longer. I’m going to make myself fucking scream when I come. So loud that my girl will hear me in her room.

  Eyes closed, I let the fantasy in my head play out. Kira pushes me back before I can suck on her clit, making me lean back on my legs. Rising up on her knees, she runs her hands all over my body. Every muscle ripples at her touch.

  I let my head fall back, moaning loud as fuck. Water slides down the front of my body, over my hypersensitive cock.

  I imagine Kira’s hands taking the same path as the water, sliding over my abs, down, down. A hiss leaves me when one of her hands wraps around my dick. Somehow, I manage to withhold from grabbing it in real life.

  Her other hand wraps around my aching balls.

  I allow myself to squeeze down on them, exactly like I imagine she would.

  She leans down, her little tongue licking my shoulders, a path across my collarbone, and each of my pecs. Her hand slides up and down my length the whole time, teasing me. Each light stroke makes me pound harder.

  Shit, I can’t take it anymore. I wrap my hand around my dick. Come almost bursts out of me. I lock down every muscle, struggling to hold it back.

  My breaths are loud in my ears. I wonder if they can be heard over the rushing water.

  I open my eyes and look down, amazed by how swollen my dick is. One stroke. Just one more and I know I’ll explode.

  Damn it. What I wouldn’t give to be able to take her. All of her. I let go of my balls and slam my fist into the tiles in front of me. “God, Kira. You make me so hard. Need to pump into your pussy. Make you take every drop.” In her mouth. Deep in her cunt.

  All over that sweet body.

  My come would cover her chest, sliding down her perfect tits, one pearly drop clinging to her pink, hard nipple.

  “Oh God. Fuck!” I squeeze down around my cock until all I feel is a fucked up mix of pleasure and pain. “Kitty, you make me feel so good . . . can’t fucking take it . . .” My dick swells even more inside my tight, immobile fist. I grind down on my teeth, watching the first drop of come leak out and cling to my red tip—

  My head jerks back, my mouth opening on a roar.

  Come shoots out of me, hard enough to cause me even more pain, and I fucking love it, growling out Kira’s name with each wave. I don’t move, coming without a single stroke.

  One last shudder goes through me, and I go utterly weak. I fall forward to lean against the tiles. My heart stutters after every beat and I can’t breathe.

  I hear a door opening and slamming shut out in the hall, then footsteps running down the stairs.

  Without a doubt, that was my Kitty, and she’s running downstairs before she ends up coming after me.

  A smile curls my lips.

  Note to self: jerk off in the shower while Kira’s home as often as possible.

  For the past ten minutes I’ve been staring out the window of Brayden’s car wondering how the hell I got here. How did he convince me to go shopping with him?

  Maybe it was the way he said please or the puppy dog eyes. Maybe it was the cracks he created in the treehouse the other night.

  Maybe I was consumed with the feel of his skin on mine, and my body spoke for every other part of me.

  I was stunned speechless. He came out of his room, changed and drying his hair with a towel.

  Hypnotized.

  Staring at him looking so delicious while still being turned on had me unable to say no when he asked.

  I would have given him anything he wanted. Spread-my-legs-for-him kind of anything.

  Next thing I know, I’m stuffed in his car on one of my first free days since graduating. This is not my idea of a good time.

  It’s torture.

  Ever since he came home for the summer, he’s been pushing me. Teasing me and testing me.

  Tempting me.

  I’m at my wit’s end with this annoying want for him. He’s driving me crazy, on purpose, but I can’t give in, as much as I want him, too.

  That’s over and done with.

  I made it so.

  But he keeps bouncing back, chipping away at my resolve, telling me he loves me.

  And I see the change, I do, but it doesn’t matter. It’s been so long I don’t know how easy it will be to change the dynamic of our relationship or how I think about him. Especially since he’s resolved to make me fall in love with him.

  We pull into the parking lot, where he finds a spot near the entrance and we walk in.

  As we step onto the escalator to the showroom, he turns and smiles at me. “How’s it feel to be done with high school?”

  I shrug. “Good, I guess.”

  “Are you excited for OSU?”

  My gaze narrows on him. “Why so interested?”

  The smile drops from his lips and eyes, revealing that beaten, hollow look I’ve seen a few times since he came back. He turns from me to get off the escalator and walks off, forcing me to jog to make up his lead.

  I mash my teeth together as we pass by the first few displays to stop myself from reaching out and asking if he’s okay. To comfort him.

  That’s not how we are anymore. I don’t care for him the same way. I can’t. Sure, my body still reacts to his, but that’s it
.

  An awkward silence surrounds us as we walk, then suddenly, he falls from my peripheral. My head snaps over in time to watch him land onto a couch. He frowns, then stands and moves to the one behind it. By the fourth couch, I’m next to him, arms crossed and brow raised.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What’s it look like?” he asks, then reaches for my arm, pulling me down next to him. “What do you think of this one?”

  I bounce on it to form some opinion for him, my head moving back and forth. “It’s okay. A little hard.”

  “Yeah, I agree. Next.”

  We move to the adjacent row, and I barely sit down before I’m back on my feet.

  “Hell no, unless you want to sit on a rock.”

  There are probably over thirty couches and by the time I’m halfway through, I’ve lost him. After standing, I look around and spot him a row away and up. As I get closer, I have to shove my nails into my palm.

  His long body is stretched out, arms crossed over his chest, and eyes closed.

  “Hey.” I bump his elbow with my knee. “What are you doing?”

  One eye pops open. “Nap test.”

  I quirk a brow. “Nap test?”

  “Yeah, come on down.”

  He grabs hold of my wrist and tugs, making me fall on top of him. I let out a surprised squeak as his other hand flips my legs onto him as well like they weigh nothing.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You’ve got to try it out. Let me know what you think.”

  “Idiot, I think I’m not going to get a good idea about the couch if I’m on you.”

  Get off.

  Get the fuck off.

  Get off his motherfucking perfect chest and the bulge growing in his pants.

  My body is unwilling to listen to the signal my brain is sending. It’s getting as wet as a bitch in heat and ready to make a scene.

  Especially after his stunt in the shower. He made so much noise all I could think about was him tugging on that beast of a cock he’s got with enough strength to jack off a rhino.

  Bastard.

  I manage to push against his chest and slap his stomach. “Sit right, jerk.”

  The corner of his mouth draws into a half smile.

  And I remember.

  Back before he knew I liked him, before he kissed me.

  The names. The teasing.

  Once he’s upright I fall down on the cushion, using it to cover the emotions from his stupid face that are forcing themselves on me.

  When I look up, Brayden’s eyes are heavy lidded. He’s rubbing his fingers across his lips, an action that brings back memories I’ve tried to forget. Those lips eating me out on my birthday . . . and that night in the restaurant bathroom . . . on his bed.

  He steps away, moving to one of the stations set up with maps and pencils.

  “This one,” he says as he writes down the information from the tag.

  Once he’s done, he holds out his hand and pulls me up.

  “Are you buying it?”

  He nods and starts walking away, his hand seeming to reluctantly release mine.

  We make our way through accent tables and chairs where he writes down another number from some plain square end tables in red. I don’t know what he’s doing, so I just walk with him, looking at everything and making a mental checklist of possibilities for my dorm room.

  The kitchen setups have changed since the last time I was in, and I fall behind. By the time I catch up, he’s almost to the dining room displays. I stay behind him, trying to keep my distance, to keep the itch down, when he begins to meander through the tables, pushing on them as he passes.

  My brow knits as I walk over to him.

  “What are you doing?”

  He blinks at me, then puts his hand on my hip, moving me until I’m in front of him. Before I can ask again, he lifts me onto the table and steps between my thighs.

  “B-Brayden?”

  His lips twitch into a smirk, and I swear my pussy starts gushing. The way we’re positioned is so sexual, the urge to link my legs around his waist and pull him closer is impossible to resist.

  He looks around before leaning forward, resting a hand beside me, the other on my hip as he rocks into me. His breath is harsh and I grab onto his shirt, but I don’t know whether it’s to push him away or pull him closer.

  “Have to make sure it’s a stable surface.”

  “For what?” I stare into his eyes. They’re dark and alluring—hypnotic.

  His lips ghost mine, threatening to touch. Threatening to melt me.

  “To fuck you on.”

  The heat of his body, his scent, and his words are a perfect symphony of torture. My thighs squeeze his hips, drawing him closer. I need to feel the hard cock he’s keeping from me.

  I want him to do what he says. It’s the perfect height, and I want him to fuck me on it.

  He clears his throat and steps back, licking his lips as my hands loosen their grip.

  A small whimper leaves me, the tension in my muscles falling away, making me weak.

  What the hell is going on?

  I’m turned still on from his teasing me in the shower, that’s what. He’s using it to his advantage.

  I hop down, refusing to look at him as he writes down the table’s, information.

  “Don’t you have a table? Why are you buying all this stuff?”

  He glances at me, then away. There’s something he’s hiding from me. I know his tells.

  “For my new apartment,” he says, clearing his throat again.

  “You’re not keeping the old one?” With Ryan gone, I just assumed Brayden would get a new roommate.

  Walking back to the pathway, he turns back to me. “No. We sold everything.”

  “Everything?”

  He nods. “The furniture. It was too much to move.”

  I catch up to him and grab onto his arm, stopping him. “Why didn’t you put it in storage, then? That’s cheaper than buying all new.” What is he hiding from me?

  He looks at me, then away, and back again. “I’m not going back to Purdue.”

  I stare at him, then shake my head. “What?”

  “I guess now’s as good of a time as any.” He pumps his fist in the air. “Go Buckeyes.”

  My mouth drops open, the blood that he’d forced into my face falling back into my body. “You transferred?” My voice is barely a whisper.

  Oh, God.

  No.

  No.

  He can’t.

  He nods, his fingers brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “I can’t be without you anymore.”

  My face scrunches up, and I swat his hand away. “You did fine for the last three years.”

  I swallow back the scream that wants to explode. There’s no way I can handle him being on the same campus as me. Not when he can make me want him inside me with just a look. He’s wrecked me, and I was finally going to have a chance to change things.

  He shakes his head. “No, I was a mess.” His voice is just above a whisper, the look in his eyes tears at me. “I’ve always been a mess without you.”

  I blink back tears. “I don’t believe you.”

  His lips form a hard line, and he nods. “I’m working on that.” He attempts to smile, but gives up. “Come on.”

  I follow behind him, my emotions all over the place. After all this time, after every way he’s broken me, how can he make me feel like this?

  My bottom lip is trapped between my teeth as we go. Walking behind him, I can see the way his muscles flex. He bypasses all the bedroom furniture setups, walking right up to the dressers, wasting no time in writing down the information.

  Then it’s the beds. He sits on each one, lays on a few, and I find myself mimicking him again, just like at the couches.

  After about five bounces, I find a good one and lay down. It’s soft, but still firm, and makes me want to find a blanket and curl up. I need a nap after the emotional and physical roller coaster that i
s Brayden.

  I’m not alone for long. Brayden climbs up next to me, both on our side, staring at each other.

  “Do you have a costume for this weekend?” he asks.

  “Yeah."

  “What are you going to wear?”

  I can barely think, still stunned. “Not telling.”

  “I’ll just have to wait and see then.”

  “You’re going?”

  Of course he’s going—it’s at Jenn’s house.

  “Only because you’re going to be there.” He sits up from the bed and writes down the number.

  After stuffing his list in his back pocket, he holds out his hand to help me up. I stare at it for a moment, then up at him.

  “Why are you doing all of this?”

  That sad smile forms on his face again. “You know why.” He reaches out and strokes his fingers against my cheek, sending a shiver through me. “I love you, and I’m doing everything I can to make you see it. To see how much I can’t live without you.”

  Right now, I hate the reaction I have to his words. I want to jump him, kiss him, be with him, but I also hate him.

  I’m lost, unsure what to do with the war raging inside me.

  June 13th, 2015

  “I love you, and I’m doing everything I can to make you see it. To see how much I can’t live without you.”

  He can’t live without me. Yeah-fucking-right. After years of doing such a great job at it, he expects me to believe that now.

  And he did do a great job. We all know that.

  Brayden says he was miserable while we were separated.

  I honestly wish I could believe that.

  But I don’t. I never will. So whatever he has to say doesn’t matter.

  Speaking of the devil himself, my text notification tone rings out.

  Let me see your costume.

  I stare at said costume laid out on my bed and swallow.

  It’s provocative. Beyond sexy. I know that. I knew that when I picked it. No, I hadn’t known Brayden would be at the party the day I bought the costume, but now I know he will.

  He’s going to see me in it.

  Damn it. I’m so fucking horny. I’ve been like this forever.

  Thinking about his reaction the moment he sees me in my costume shouldn’t turn me on more.