Shadowman (Alabaster Penitentiary Book 5), page 41
“Mmm… I think you’re right, sweet fury.” His finger dips beneath the hem of my shirt, running along my abs. “You like it?”
“Maybe.” Pursing my lips, I grab his hand to stop its roaming. He gasps. “Don’t push it.”
“Trevel,” Dr. Love barks, cutting into whatever this game is we’re been playing. “Let’s go.” He drops a chaste kiss on Darcey’s forehead, then stomps away, nodding for Trevel to follow him.
Trevel’s hand slips down my hip. “See you back at home.” He winks, releasing me to scurry off with his doctor.
Dr. Love casts me one last look that I wish I couldn’t read before they leave, around the corner and out of sight. Off to have their therapy, I guess.
Gulping, my face slopes back in Darcey’s direction. He’s just standing there, still mostly in his bedroom, looking all cute and sweet and fucking stupid. My lips almost quirk, remembering the mess we made in his bed.
Did he even notice? Or is he so simple, he’s literally sleeping in our dried cum?
I’m not sure which result tickles me more.
Darcey waves at me, and I scoff, rolling my eyes. I stalk away without another glance, back to Gen-pop.
Our row is quiet when I get there, and I immediately notice that many inmates are gone, likely in the showers. Stopping in front of my cell, my gaze slides farther down the row. I peek at the camera, and instead of entering my own cell, I continue walking quietly to the end.
I look through the bars of the last cell, holding my breath. Luthor is in there, sitting on the bottom bunk. His back is to me, and he doesn’t notice me standing here, because he’s clearly very invested in what he’s doing. It looks like he’s messing with some device—must be the computer thing he’s been rambling about for months.
A small smile tugs at my lips. Fuck, I miss him.
Existing in here, not by his side, doesn’t feel right.
I’m still mad at him and Ren. The things I said to them during our fight—the last conversation we had, which was weeks ago at this point—are all still valid. But it was never supposed to mean I don’t want them in my life.
Just because they piss me off, it doesn’t mean I don’t love them.
Luthor is my best friend. He just so happens to be hopelessly drawn to the problem.
I don’t hate Ren… I can’t.
Sometimes I wish I could. Things would be so much easier…
Either way, none of that is Luthor’s fault.
Grabbing onto the bars, I’m about to call out to him. But someone grabs me by the waist, meaty hand slapping over my mouth as I’m pulled away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Officer Pedroia growls in my face when he puts me down. I purposely keep my mouth shut. I’m not supposed to speak, remember, asshole? He gives me a displeased look, shoving me up the row. “Move. Now.”
Still, I can’t stop myself from glancing back, wondering if I’ll ever get a chance to speak to my best friend again.
I just want to explain… So we can make it right.
I want him to know I don’t blame him for any of this. It’s not… him.
Pedroia hustles me along, pushing me past my cell. My brow furrows. “Where—”
“I did not just hear a word come out of that pouty mouth…” he snarls.
Zipping my lips together, I swallow down my rage for this prick, and my confusion about where the hell we’re going.
We end up in the cafeteria, which is a real bummer because I’ve gotten used to eating with Trevel. Despite not being able to speak, I like having my meals with him. I guess Dr. Love was right… About me feeling comfortable in his presence.
Not that I want to give him credit for anything, since he’s an entitled asshole, but the guy is really fucking smart. I can see why Trevel got along with him so well for so many years…
My stomach rolls while I pick apart my stale bread.
I wonder what they’re talking about… What they’re… doing.
This jealousy is unnecessary and ridiculous. It makes me feel like a fool because he’s not my boyfriend. He’s not my anything. We’re just friends who are hooking up, sharing a cell, and have a severely unhealthy attraction to vengeance. Nothing more.
When the meal ends, I’m brought directly to the showers, and based on the sounds of running water and nothing else, I guess there are already people in here. I wander inside, going for our spot in the back. Lifting my shirt over my head, I come to a full stop when it comes down and my eyes land on Trevel. Beneath a spray of water, running long fingers through his black hair.
What is he doing here?? He must have come straight from therapy…
I’m not trying to stand here gawking, but it’s hard not to. I think I’m glad to see him… Here, with me, and no one else.
Really fucking glad.
So many varying emotions bubble up when I see him, but I’m having trouble processing any of them right now, because he’s naked. And wet.
His back is to me, meaning I have the perfect view of his smooth skin and the sinews of his back, leading down a tapered waist to a fully delicious ass. He’s so tall. His legs and torso go on for miles.
But that booty is just…
I swallow. Mouthwatering.
He’s bad for me… So everyone keeps saying.
He’s dangerous, untrustworthy. Troubled.
But that’s not all I see. I don’t see some fucked-up creature who will use and abuse me to get what he wants. I don’t see the serpent slithering around the garden.
When I look at him, I see a hot fucking dude. A purely gorgeous guy, with purple eyes that see the real me. A quirky, maddening weirdo who has somehow captivated me in record time.
I see the only person in the world who knows all of my deepest secrets, and who’s holding on to them for me. Trevel Fenwick grabbed my baggage without a second thought, carrying it for me so that I don’t have to.
Chivalrous of him, I know. Such a gentleman…
This thing has become so convoluted, so damn fast. And despite what I said, what I made him agree to, the truth is that every second that ticks between us feels like a glaring indication… I’m not sure it can be just casual between us. It’s too potent.
Foolish or not, I think I trust him. I think I want to… walk with him in the shadows.
Taking lithe steps, I move closer, and he spins around, as if he senses me right away. Head tilting, pink lips twisting at their corner to give me that crooked smile that’s contagious.
I release a breath and shove my pants down, with the boxers. Like an admission, or an offering. And he takes it, eyes dipping shamelessly, gliding over me with a fast and furious hunger in his vibrant gaze. I can tell he wants me closer, and even if I didn’t have to go that way to get into the shower, I’d be moved there by the call of those irises.
“Come here, Byron.”
“Come closer, baby.”
I’m still afraid to drop the shields again. It nearly destroyed me last time…
But with him, I don’t think I can stop myself.
I’m here, violet eyes. Come and get me…
Turning on the water beside him, I’ve barely submerged myself before he’s grabbing me by the waist and pulling me under his. I gasp, and he growls. Shivering, I glance around to check for any guards.
We’re not alone by any stretch of the imagination, but so long as we stay quiet, there’s no one close enough to pick up on what we’re doing. Probably. They might be just around the corner, but fuck it.
I’m gonna make this count.
And I’m instantly hard from the potential of getting caught.
Trevel’s touch is fast and greedy, yet sensual in the way he’s biting down on his lower lip, like he can’t get enough. Knowing that we can’t speak is making this experience even deeper; hotter and headier than it usually is any time we’re close like this. Sexual chemistry on steroids. I’ve never felt anything like it.
His hands run down my hips, and mine come up his chest. I whimper softly, and he breathes a near-silent, “Fuck…”
“Don’t make that noise,” I hear him saying in my mind. And I love the idea of turning him on so badly with something as simple as a sound.
My eyes fall below his waist, coveting the sight of his long dick. Not even fully hard yet, but still so severely impressive. My heart is racing as I reach down and grab it, and he purrs.
Mm, baby… Fuck yes.
Our eyes connect, the water cascading at his back while he presses me up against the cold concrete. Violet shimmering lust, and something more…
It’s that danger. I do see it. But it’s mixed with other things. His yearning for closeness and affection. Devotion. It’s fucking crazy how much I want to give it to him.
How badly I want to bend and break for him.
“Squeeze, baby…” he says to me with his eyes while I caress his big cock. “Stroke nice and tight for me.”
Of course, I do. My chest is fluttering as I touch him slowly, pulling up and down on his inches while our gazes stay draped in one another’s. His skin is like velvet, sliding up and down the rigidity of his dick, my thumb playing with the smooth head every time it pushes out.
Fuck me… This is so hot.
Knowing that people are so close has me quaking, nipples pert and sensitive, wet flesh quivering and on display. Anyone could see this, could watch me pleasuring a man and how needy I am for him.
Just him. Only he gets it.
Trevel leans down to lash his tongue over my lower lip, and I shudder.
“Fall apart for me, baby. I know this is what you want.”
My jagged panting tells him that he’s right.
I do want it. Tear me to pieces, danger boy.
We’re practically melded together as my hips shift, our tips kissing his while I pump his cock up and down in my fist. Trevel digs his fingers into my ass, spreading me rough and teasingly between my cheeks. I’m crumbling as I wrap my other hand around my own cock, giving it a rough stroke.
“Fury…” he moans on a whisper, dropping his lips to my neck, licking my flesh like melty ice cream.
God, fuck, that feels so good…
His possessive, hungry mouth, kissing, sucking and biting. Leaving a mark, no doubt. But I want it. I love the idea of him owning me. This feels like what I’ve always wanted… Someone to possess me.
One sneaky finger eases deeper between my cheeks, taunting my rim with little brushes and rubs, and pokes. I’m clenching, yet aching for him to just push it in because I know it’ll feel so damn good. But he doesn’t. He’s playing with me, and I think I like that just as much.
Shoving our cocks together, I use both my hands to stroke them side by side. Our hips are moving in tandem, as if we’re fucking each other at the same damn time while chasing the wet friction.
My hooded gaze drifts, and I think I catch sight of someone watching us… One of the guards, at least a few prisoners. But I’m too hazy to fully process it, and too high to care.
There’s a buzzing in my balls from doing this for a silent audience of hungry eyes. My pulse is pinging, nervous chills rushing over me. Thrill in my loins, lighting me the fuck up.
Let them all watch. Let them see us…
I’m not in the shadows with him. We’re out in the fucking open.
Trevel’s left hand runs up to my chest, cupping my pectoral muscle, squeezing and massaging it. His hungry mouth dips, and his warm tongue circles my nipple. Then he takes it between his lips and sucks, hard and sloppy.
My eyes roll back. Fuck, that’s it… Suck it, Daddy.
At an almost identical pace, his finger is teasing my hole while his tongue teases my nipple. Pawing at my chest, he’s suckling my peaked flesh, growling as he does, as if he’s growing hungrier the more he feasts on me. It has me fucking opening for him, because fuck, I want more.
I want him in me… His every fucking part, as deep inside as he can get.
I want him to push my legs apart and slide that big cock in me while he sucks and bites my nipples like candy.
My whining is almost too loud. Sealing my lips together, I arch up to him, giving him my body. This feels too fucking good to care about anything else. The sky could be falling right now, and I wouldn’t be able to stop.
Trevel just… distracts me. From everything.
With my cock in one hand, and his in the other, I push them together, tip to tip. When I rub them together—our exposed crowns, silky with arousal—it’s like a bolt of lightning strikes me in the balls. Jerking slow and tight, I press our dicks into one another. His body trembles from the sensation, and it fills me with helium. I’m weightless and floating, knowing that he likes what I’m doing.
I mean, so do I… It feels fucking awesome.
“Best… dick… ever…” Trevel breathes out in between brutalizing my chest with his ravenous mouth. “Feed it, sweet fury.”
“Shh…” I scold, and let go with my left hand, just long enough to grab the back of his head.
Fingers burrowed in his wet hair, I stuff his face into my chest to keep him quiet. He rumble-moans, but obeys the instruction, sucking my nipples fucking sore, moving from one to the other. Still gripping my pec, fondling while nipping all over viciously.
Apparently, I only need one hand to keep our dicks together, like one of those fleshlight toys that’s open at both ends. The thrusting works like rippling waves, my dick fucking into his while my fist keeps them connected at their heads. I’m so unleashed, so greedy for pleasure and pain, I barely realize how far I’m going… Until the tip of my dick slides inside, his foreskin covering my cock. Deep.
Trevel chokes out a mewl that pulses precum from my cock. Then, like a seesaw, his head pushes mine back, my wet skin welcoming him in. It’s agonizing, almost painful, but not enough to reduce such a fierce pleasure.
I’m quaking, mashing our slippery cocks together so hard, if they could swallow each other up, I’m sure they would.
“Fuck my cock, Byron…” I hear him. I can’t tell if he’s saying it or if I’m hearing him in my mind, or if it’s the same damn thing at this point.
We’re becoming one, our bodies absorbing one another, our pleasure blooming and growing the more we move. Panting, purring, and groaning surrounding us with the rush of falling water.
My chest hurts from how hard he’s biting and sucking me. My nipples are raw, my dick is throbbing, and my foreskin is sore. And I’m so drunk on it all that I don’t even notice his finger is in me until he’s up to the knuckle and touching my prostate.
Oh, fuuuuck… Fuck fuck fuck yes, baby, fucking touch it more…
It’s active work to not cry his name out loud.
Trevel groans while bucking his hips, pumping his cock into mine. Our tips are soaking wet and gushy with precum flowing between them, making sounds so obscene, it has me on the verge of a colossal orgasm. Which gets me thinking…
I want to come in him… Inside his cock. And I want him to come in mine.
God, come in me, Trev. Come anywhere… everywhere in me.
Apparently, this desperate need for cum has been slowly rising in me. Since Michelangelo, and in every interaction with a guy since, I’ve become hungrier and hungrier for it in secret. But now, it’s no longer hiding.
I’m out as fuck right now, and I want Trevel Fenwick’s cum.
All over me, inside me.
Fuck it. Fuck everything that isn’t this.
I want you, violet eyes. I want you to…
“Come with me…” I breathe by his ear, shaky and ready to erupt. “Come in me.”
“You’re so needy, baby,” he whispers, lifting his face to lock our eyes. He looks out of his mind with lust. “My big, sexy cumslut.”
“You w-want mine t-too…” I shudder with our cocks slipping and sliding. “Thirsty bitch.”
He huffs, the sexiest, raspiest chuckle as his middle finger swirls in my ass. “No talking, bad boy.” Barely lubed, another stuffs inside, and I grunt, abs clenching. Fuck, I’m so fucking close…
A quiet moan flees my mouth, and he swallows it. My tongue peeks out to lick a droplet of water from his upper lip, and he swipes his tongue over mine. I lick him back, and the next thing I know, we’re just fucking licking each other’s lips and tongues, and it’s so fucking weird, but so hot, and fuck me, I’m gonna come so fucking hard…
Despite the water running cold, we’re surrounded by steam. Dripping wet, grunting and gasping. Our skin is burning, and I’m falling…
Trevel’s hand works hard in my ass to get me there, my legs spread to welcome him finger-fucking my needy hole while I fuck his dick and he fucks mine. I feed my cock into his foreskin so deep, I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. He crumbles into me, sobbing into my mouth, and I think I’m hurting him. Until I realize that he’s coming.
He’s coming, all the fuck over my cock.
It’s the most incredible sensation of my life, and it immediately sets me off. I’m overpowered by a typhoon of an orgasm. Fast. It incapacitates me, and I fucking erupt. Gloriously. Painfully. Spiritually.
Unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
“Uhhhffuuck… Trevel.” I cry his name, because I have to. He’s my god, and I’m singing hymns right now. “Fuck me fuck me fuck me, oh God, Trevel, Baby, I’m fucking coming in your… big… fucking… cock.”
“Shh… quiet, baby… Jesus bloody Christ, it’s never felt like this.” He’s collapsing into me, wrapped around me like he’s melting all over my body, taking all of my hot, aching orgasm inside his cock while he shoots his into mine. “How does it… feel so… Mmm, Byron, sweet furious boy… Milk it out… Just… like… that.”
My hand shakes as I hold us still, and we pulse and throb, twitch and convulse. Filling his skin, flooding his dick with my juicy seed. I’m barely done as he’s pushing his hips forward to stuff mine with both of our cum. I hold tight, keeping us joined while we slip and slide, working all that slickness around both of our swollen heads. It’s spilling out, dribbling everywhere. A big, sloppy, kinky mess. And I love it.
I fucking love this.
So filthy, so depraved. The sweet, furious sex we make together is so far beyond what I ever imagined having… It’s rearranged the makeup of who I am.
