The Sweetest Star: Under the Stars Book 2

by Raleigh Ruebins

  “Oh yeah? Do video games suck, or… do you just suck at playing them?” I teased him.

  His eyes lit up again. “Oh fuck no, you did not just say that to me,” he said, and then he was up, taking me by the shoulders and tackling me to the ground. I went down hard, laughing, as he pinned me.

  “If I suck so bad at video games, it’s because I have you as a teacher,” he said, looking down at me. I reached a hand up to brush a lock of hair away from his eyes, but as I did, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the floor above my head.

  And yeah, that went straight to my cock. I felt myself hardening in my pants. My grin disappeared, and my mouth parted a little as I watched him above me.

  He continued. “And you’re a fucking bad teacher, Eric,” he said, his voice low now. He knew exactly what he was doing.

  “Oh?” I said, keeping my voice steady. “And why am I bad, Dash?”

  “You’re bad,” he said, bending low so that his face was right near mine, “because you’re too goddamn distracting.”

  all of a sudden his mouth was at my neck, and he pressed his teeth into the tender skin there—just slightly, not even enough to hurt, before easing up and sucking a kiss into the same spot.

  “Ohhh wow,” I said, barely holding back a moan, and I turned my neck so that he could have better access. “…Sorry I’m such a bad teacher, Dash. Why was I distracting?”

  “Because,” he said, punctuating his words as he kissed along my jaw, “Every time you put your hands on mine, trying to show me what buttons to push, all I could think about was how they’d feel inside me.”

  “Oh my God,” I said, genuinely surprised. “I didn’t know you—you wanted—”

  He pulled up a little, just enough to look me in the eye. “I do, Eric,” he said. “I want it fucking bad.”

  A shudder moved through me. I shifted slightly under his weight and realized that I’d become incredibly hard—I was straining against my jeans, which were far too tight to be comfortable anymore.

  Dash finally sank his weight into me, down at his hips, and I felt his cock pressing against my own through the fabric, and he was just as hard as I was. “Yeah, I’m pretty damn sure I need you to fuck me now.”

  My heart was racing, my head spinning. I wanted him—good God, I wanted him more than I could even comprehend—but it was so much, so fast. I used to do this kind of thing all the time, but for some reason I needed reassurance in this moment.

  “Okay,” I said, trying to be sincere, “I just want to make sure, though—you really still want this, right, Dash? There’s no obligation.”

  There was a softness in his eyes, before his gaze hardened again. He bent down to kiss me, slow and hot, and he sucked against my bottom lip before pulling away to whisper in my ear.

  “Yes, Eric, I’m sure. Now would you kindly—and I’m sure about this—please take me to your room and fuck me like I’m asking you to?”

  My cock throbbed as he spoke, so low and close to my ear, and I couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle.

  “Oh, Dash,” I said, straining against his grip on my wrists until he let me break free, and clutched him around his waist. “Yes. Yes I can. I’ve wanted to fuck you since the minute I met you.”

  I bucked up against him with my hips, and he let out a little startled sound. “Get up,” I said, and he obliged. I stood and gripped him from behind, pushing him forward by his hips down the hallway toward my bedroom. As I walked behind him I nipped him playfully at the base of his neck, and when he stopped walking, arching back into my touch, I bent down and lifted him up, carrying him the few more steps to my room.

  I felt like I was bringing something forbidden into my space—almost the entire time since I’d met Dash, he’d been so standoffish, so seemingly uninterested—but now I had this wild, feral thing in my room, hot with lust, literally begging to be fucked. It was almost enough to give me vertigo, and as I watched him spin around and I released him from my grip, I realized that his raw ferocity only added to it for me. I wanted to claim him as mine, someone who’d tried to resist even talking to me.

  But there he was, tugging off his shirt, tossing it away. I stepped toward my bed and swept an arm over it. I’d collected a couple of books on the empty side of the bed, but I tossed them all to the floor with one sweep.

  He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me from behind, and I felt him press the length of his body to mine—his chest against my back, his thighs against the back of my legs, and his cock, pressed right up along my ass. I twisted around to face him and realized that he had already stripped entirely naked, despite the fact that I was still fully clothed.

  “Wow,” I said, my voice a little shaky, as I raked my eyes across his body. “You… are gorgeous.”

  Before I could even finish saying it, he’d pushed me back onto the bed, straddling me. He tugged my shirt upward, exposing my stomach and my chest, and kissed me there, traveling against the soft hair, kissing up and up until he reached the straining hem of the shirt. I lifted my head so he could tug the whole thing off of me. He was utterly possessive, and didn’t take his hands off me for a second. He gripped my hand, pushing it down to press against his hard cock.

  “Oh my God,” I said, “Slow down, slow down, I still have my pants on.”

  “Get them off, then,” he said, more a command than a request, but I was achingly happy to do as he said. I hitched my hips up, unbuttoning and unzipping, and then gracelessly took my pants off as he moved to the side, kissing up the side of my body the whole time.

  And as soon as I was naked, he paused for a moment, finally stilling and looking down at my cock. A bead of precome had gathered at the tip, inevitable really, after everything he’d been subjecting me to. He reached down slowly, touching it and swirling with his fingertip, and I watched as he drew it back to his mouth, sucking the shiny slick right off of it. I watched him very, very closely.

  “You taste good,” he said, his voice low, staring right at me. “But you should be inside me instead of twitching under my finger.”

  I moaned, reaching over and gripping him at his hips. “Can’t I have both?”

  Before I could say anything more he’d straddled me again, and was starting to slowly rut up against me in even strokes, our cocks sliding against one another. His hair fell over his eyes as he moved, and I reached up, sliding through and gripping a fistful in my hand. He moaned as I tugged on his hair, pulling his head back just slightly, and I felt his cock throb against my own.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” I said. I gripped my hands around his rutting hips, firmly, stopping his movement. “Come here,” I said, gesturing him to come down toward my face.

  He bent down near me. “What?”

  “Just kiss me,” I said, and I lifted my hands up again, hooking my arms around his shoulders, and pulled him in for a kiss. I was slow and deliberate, intentionally, wanting to take it all in, enjoy him on me.

  He started to thrust against me again a couple seconds later, and I brought a hand down against his ass, firm but gentle. “So impatient,” I said.

  “You’re so slow,” he said, though he kissed me again, not seeming to mind.

  “Because,” I said, after he pulled away for a breath, “You keep grinding against me like that, and I’m liable to come just from that.”

  “Mmh,” he moaned, “No. You’re not allowed to come. Not until you fuck me.”

  His demand wasn’t surprising but it made my cock twitch anyway, pressed between our bodies.

  “Oh,” he said, noticing it had gotten my attention. “You like it when I tell you when you can and can’t come?”

  “Fuck you,” I said, smiling languidly and nipping against his neck.

  “I’m waiting for you to,” he answered, though he dropped his head back to better let me kiss him there.

  After a moment I let go of him, and tried to reach over to my nightstand. But it was out of reach, and with him on top of me, I couldn’t quite make it.

&n
bsp; “Let me get it,” he said, lifting off me and reaching over to the drawer. He deftly located my condoms and lube and brought them back.

  His eyes drifted over my body, like he was considering what to do to me next. And then he picked up my hand from the bed, bringing my fingertips to his mouth, and slowly pushed my first two fingers past his lips. I groaned deeply as I watched him take them in, sucking slowly, his eyes pressed shut.

  And then he released them, reaching over to the bottle of lube, one of his hands still gripping my own. He poured the lube onto my hand, and then started to slick my fingers for me. He leaned forward, then, over my body, and tugged my hand around to his ass.

  I of course knew exactly what he wanted—and could have easily accomplished it without his deliberate guidance—but it was somehow so goddamn sexy to have him do it, have him be the one to press my fingers up against his hole, tight and waiting. It was almost as if it was his way of telling me: yes, I want this, and yes, I’m sure. Finally he let my hand go, leaning back down against my body.

  “Please,” he said, arching his ass up against my hand.

  I slipped one finger inside him, and he moaned in response immediately. I went slow—apparently too slow, because within moments he was pressing back onto my hand, begging for more. I couldn’t help but smile slightly, entranced as I was watching him.

  “You’re so… pushy,” I said, hoping he could tell that it was absolutely a compliment.

  “So push back,” he said, the faintest smile appearing on his lips, his eyes already half-lidded and in a sex haze.

  He’d asked, so I gave it to him: a second finger inside of him, pressing slightly harder and faster this time.

  “God, yes,” he uttered, his eyes closing, his face a beautiful mixture of pleasure and slight pain. He didn’t push against me as quickly this time, knowing his limits, but it only took about a minute longer before he was fucking my hand, hard and fast, asking for more. It was an effort not to just sit back and watch him—I’d never been with someone so free and uninhibited in bed, without any alcohol in him at all. I wanted to take it all in, to file this moment away for future reference.

  A moment later Dash dipped low to my face again, his breath hot and close, and he moaned, “Fuck me,” looking right at my eyes as he spoke. He bent and pressed his mouth to mine again, and I felt him squeeze warm and tight around my fingers.

  Oh, how I’d underestimated him. This wasn’t quiet Dash, or hesitant Dash. This was someone completely different: unhinged, and wild and needy and so much, it was exquisite.

  “Fuck me, Eric,” he said again, this time louder, and with a bite to my earlobe.

  How could I say no to him? I let out a groan and slipped my fingers out of him, bucking him off my hips so that he moved to the side of the bed, while I slipped on a condom and lube.

  I watched as he turned over onto his stomach, his ass pointing upward. He turned his neck to the side and watched me work the condom on behind him, staring at me, eyes intent as ever.

  I hitched my leg around him and positioned myself against his hole. “This might hurt a little,” I said, pushing the tip of my cock up against him.

  “Do it,” he said, not a note of hesitation in his voice. I gently pressed my hand to the space on his back between his shoulder blades, feeling the warmth radiating from him, and he tipped back his head so that his hair fell onto my wrist.

  I pushed into him. I was slow at first—always slow, letting him open and adjust to the size of my cock.

  “Oh fuck,” he said, his back arching as I sank inside of him. He threw a hand back and gripped onto my thigh, fingernails digging into my skin.

  “You okay?” I said.

  “Don’t you dare fucking stop,” he replied, his voice raw.

  I pushed in a little harder and was met with a deeper groan, his hand releasing from my thigh and instead hovering an inch out from it, suspended in animation like he couldn’t bear to feel anything but my cock at that moment. He turned his head back just enough so he could meet my eyes, a sideways gaze that said yes, finally, this is what I need.

  And I was usually better at things like this but God, I felt like I was about to come from it—just from that, me being half-buried inside him and seeing him respond so absolutely. I was dangerously close until he slapped his hand down again onto my thigh.

  “I told you don’t stop,” he said with a long exhale, “Why’d you stop?”

  Because I just realized how stunning you are.

  “Sorry,” I said, looking at the ceiling and taking a deep breath, the skin on my face suddenly twice as hot as it had felt a moment ago.

  I pressed further inside of him, steady and constant, until I had filled him completely, he was relaxed onto the bed in front of me, no longer tensed and arching up. He moaned into my pillow and gripped at it with his right hand as I pulled out of him, then stroked back in again.

  Finally I felt like I could control myself again, and moved steadily, methodically, building up to a rhythm inside of him. For a couple minutes he was subdued, taking me with just the occasional moan, fully relaxed on his stomach. I could hear him, and it was fantastic, but as I went on I realized I wanted something more.

  I needed to see him. He was unhinged and raw and frenetic—so fucking hot—but his eyes were full with a kind of longing I had never seen before, so much that it had almost made me lose control just a few minutes ago.

  “Dash,” I said, lowering onto my hands and leaning toward his head, my cock sill buried inside him.

  “Mmh,” he moaned back.

  “I want to see you,” I said, brushing his hair from where it fell over his eye onto the pillow. I gently eased my cock out of him and he whined at the loss.

  “Turn over,” I said, gripping onto his hip and flipping him until he was lying on his back. His hair was stuck to his forehead and I pushed it out of his eyes, kissing him deeply. He hitched his legs upward to allow me better access and I pressed my cock to his hole again, pushing in. This time I could see his expression as I worked inside of him, see his every twitch and gasp as I fucked him.

  I shuddered out a breath, picking up my pace again. “Jesus Christ,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

  “Fuck me harder,” he growled back, spreading his legs just the slightest bit wider for me.

  I complied, quickening my pace, my hands curled around his thighs.

  “Oh my God you feel good,” he said. His voice went into a higher, breathy register. “I’m fucking—I’m so fucking close, Eric.” He threw an arm over his eyes, like sight was too much to bear.

  “Hey,” I said through panting breaths, “I wanna watch you when you come.” I put my hand on the arm that covered his face, trying to push it up and away.

  “No,” he said, his arm staying firmly in its place, a blindfold of his own making.

  I groaned, so close to losing it. “Okay,” I said, and kept my hand over his arm, right above the spot where it shielded his eyes. I wanted to pull it away, so badly—to let me watch him, and to let him see what he was doing to me, how undone I was about to become.

  But I didn’t pull it away. I kept my hand pressed over it, leaning into him and squeezing his arm so tight my fingers would probably leave a mark. He could feel me, if he couldn’t see me.

  “Oh fuck, Eric,” he said, his voice breathless and unrestrained. “Make me come.”

  Jesus Christ he was so hot. I clutched him tighter as I thrust into him hard, and he called out in a loud moan. I watched as he came onto his stomach and up to his chest, his body tensing around me.

  And I made a guttural, almost pained sound as I realized that he had just come without even touching his cock—just from being fucked, just from me inside him. I had never seen anyone do that before in real life, and my mouth hung open.

  “Dash—you—oh God,” I uttered, as I realized I was going to come too, watching Dash below me, his cock jerking, his ass squeezed so tight around me. I involuntarily released
my hand from his arm and at last, he took it away from his eyes, finally looking up at me, eyes bleary and half-lidded in his fucked haze. He gave me that small gift and it sent me over the edge in a second. I came inside him, filling the condom, thrusting deep as I gripped his thighs. For a moment I squeezed my eyes shut and there was nothing else but the feel of him around me, his warm tightness, and nothing at all in my brain.

  I breathed deep there for who knows how long before I slowly opened my eyes again, still so deep inside Dash. He was laid out against the pillow, breathing soft and looking up at me as I slowly slipped out of him, discarding the condom in a tissue from the side of my bed.

  I collapsed onto the bed beside him, utterly exhausted but also oddly… nervous.

  Because fuck—fuck—I felt like I was close to tears.

  No, I wasn’t going to cry, and no, I didn’t—but just the knowledge of being that close to it was alarming. That didn’t happen to me. Crying after sex happened to people on stupid TV shows who fuck somebody and then think it was more meaningful than it really was.

  But I’d just realized that something ridiculous had happened. I’d gone into today with the precise hope that I would fuck Dash—that finally, he’d let me, and I could say I’d had sex with the guy who’d hated me at first. It would be fun, a good story, a casual thing like Dash had wanted.

  And… I didn’t feel casual now. Far from it. Actually, I had a precise urge to hold Dash, to kiss him all over his body, to tell him how beautiful and amazing he’d been. Even now, after I’d come.

  Out of my peripheral vision I saw him turn his head toward me, on the bed, and I instinctively closed my eyes, as if I were resting.

  For God’s sake, I’d had entire relationships with less feeling in them than this—but here I was, fucking a guy I barely knew, for the first time, and I’d gotten all these stupid feelings about his eyes and it had made me come harder than I had in probably years.

  Alarming. Panic-inducing.