The C Word (Just a Word Book 1) (11 page)

“You like?”
He asks through the bond.

“Mmmmhmmmm,”
I mumble aloud, through my mouthful of T-shirt, nodding my head as it lolls
against the wall, even though I know he can’t see it. The feel of his piercings
is making it hard to think.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

I moan.

“Your cock was so hard in the bar, I wanted to suck it right there in
front of everyone.”

Fuck.

“I wanted everyone to watch as I owned you.”

Oh God, with
this bond, he can talk dirty while my cock is in his mouth and the feeling I
get when he says he wants to own me…I’m done for.

I edge closer
and closer and so does my beast. He feels T and he wants out. I start to panic.
What if I can’t control it this time? I try to lift my hands to stop him, pull
him away, but they are pinned and for the first time ever, I’m being held by
someone as strong as me.

I growl, my
mouth stuffed full with fabric pulled so taut I can’t expel it.

“Easy.,”
T soothes.

I can barely
contain myself on a particularly deep stroke, I’m so close, but afraid of what
might happen if I let go.

Control it,
I breathe.
Control
it, Control it.

The chanting
in my head falls in line with the rhythm of his lips on my cock and I strain
against his strong hands, fighting for one kind of release and fighting off the
other kind.

In a perfect
paradox, I lock tight and let go.

A strangled
roar rips between my clenched teeth as I come deep in T’s throat.
 

His
relentless mouth still sucks on my over sensitive flesh and his look is defiant
as he refuses to slow. It’s too much. Moaning, I try to pull my arms free again
and he looks up, the light from the moon barely reaching this shaded spot, but
I can still see him watching me. He’s pushing me deliberately, trying to goad
my beast. I can feel the control slipping, I feel the shift creeping in,
overcome in the moment.

Control.

Control.

Control.

The
breathless grunts I can hear, I realise, are coming from me as I fight it,
while the aftershocks of my orgasm shake my body. But I will fight it, I have
to. My eyes squeeze tightly shut, because I know they are always the first to
go. My teeth bite further into the fabric of my aptly chosen Misfits T-shirt.

Control.

Control.

Then suddenly,
he releases me. “You and that bloody C word!” he groans as he stands up.

I remain
panting against the wall. My eyes closed, my mouth still gagged. My hands are
now free, but hang limp beside me while I breathe through the panic, calming
myself, waiting for it to pass.

My breathing
gradually slows and I open my eyes to find T watching me.

“Open,” he
whispers and takes the shirt out of my mouth, pulling it down and smoothing the
damp wrinkled fabric over my abs. His finger finds a hole made by my teeth and
pokes through to tickle the skin beneath, a fond smile plays on his lips. He
looks back to my eyes and opens the bond.
“That C word is going to give me trouble isn’t it?”

“It’s just a word.”
I reply, using his wise words
against him.

He smiles
ruefully. “You can trust me you know,” he says softly. “It’s okay to let go
with me. You don’t have to control everything.”

I lick my
lips to moisten them before can speak. “It’s what holds me together.” My voice
is hoarse and filled with emotion – what has come over me?

“Or is it
what holds you back?”

I swallow.

He steps
forward. “Maybe you need something new to rely on,” he murmurs as he claims my
mouth in an intense, slow kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue as it plays
with mine. Then he speaks through the bond, it’s barely more than a whisper,
“or someone.”

Holy fuck.
His words have the panic rising in me again. Why is it that I feel like this
around him, like his very presence keeps my beast just beneath the surface the
whole
time.
I bite back at his urge to be present.
This is my life, not his. T isn’t going to disrupt that. I met him yesterday,
for fucks sake.

Shit,
yesterday! I push back on his chest so that our lips part and stare at him. I
have known him one day. I don’t actually know him at all. He doesn’t know me.
He can’t have this effect on me after one day. I won’t allow it.

He’s watching
me, wondering why I stopped.

It’s sex,
nothing more, I assure myself. If I let it be more, then everything I’ve worked
for will be for nothing. It’s just two people enjoying each other with no
emotional attachment.

None.

But if it’s
purely sex, I have got to stop being the whimpering bottom, gagged and pinned
to the wall. I need to start being myself. Determined, I grab his hand and pull
him away from the wall and into the garden. At the far end of the tapered area
stands a summer house, covered by decades of ivy. The space is kept beautifully
in that wild kind of feel. I love it here and despite my aversion to nature,
the dank earthy smell always puts me at ease.

I drag T
across the dewy grass and fling open the doors. Leaving the lights off, I step
inside and lead T to the huge day bed that faces out over the garden.
Ostensibly a place to read and relax, it’s very comfortable. I push him down on
the soft cushions and he makes a gratified little purr as he relaxes into them.
Standing over him, I smile to myself, this is more my comfort zone. I will not
let him knock me off balance. His hand rubs over his jeans where I can make out
a large bulge. I lick my lips. Let’s see how he holds it together while I blow
him the way he just blew me.

Sinking to my
knees, I part his legs and position myself between them, his hands immediately
go into my hair and he pulls my face down onto his crotch. His scent is
overwhelming and I rub my face over him trying to lose myself in it.

He slips his
hands from my hair and opens the top button on his jeans, sliding the zip down,
slowly. I could die from the scent of him and my beast is right there again.
Breathing him in, I help him, his cock jumps up when it’s no longer encased. I
should have known a guy like him would be going commando. I’m about to lean
forward with a teasing lick, when he takes himself in hand. His other hand
strokes the side of my face and cups my chin, his thumb brushing across my lips,
while he works his cock and watches me.

I stare at
his fingers sliding up and down and swallow at the thought of all the things I
want him to do to me. He surprises me, grabbing my hair sharply, yanking me
forward and feeding his cock into my mouth. I was trying to take the power and
here I am being fed… again.

But my God,
the feeling. Sucking greedily and accepting as much as I’m given, I do my best,
but he is firmly in control. He works me on his length and keeps his hand at
his base. I wish I had ropes to tie them to the metal rings that live secretly
on the underside of this bed. But he’s in charge and it’s great.

His hand
falls away and he forces me down further on his thick cock, he moans with
abandon when I don’t hesitate to take it all.
 

“You look so
good on your knees, City Boy,” he purrs, both hands now stroking roughly
through my hair, alternating between firm caresses and yanks, as he begins to
thrust his hips up to meet me. “My dick looks so good in your mouth,” he gasps,
thrusting deeper.

But instead
of him losing control, I feel mine slipping once again. It’s a fight as he uses
my mouth, one I’m not sure I can win. I feel him building and my vision gets clouded
as I slip into the place between what I so badly want to be and what I really
am. It’s when I get a taste like this that I know I could so easily let it all
go, but up until now I have always managed to fight and win. This feels
different. This is starting to feel less like a fight and more like an
opportunity. It’s like a drug.

Then he
snatches me out of my thoughts by pulling his cock away. He grabs my face in
one hand while he grips his cock in the other.

“You want
this?” he asks in a gravelly voice that betrays his struggle to hold back.

I nod, trying
to reach the tip with my tongue.

He tightens
his grip on my face and holds it just out of reach.

“Ask nicely.”
He growls.

“Please,” the
sound of the plea in my voice shocks me, it’s real and fuck it feels amazing.

He strokes
his cock. “Please what?” The words are strained, because he’s right there.

“Please come
in my mouth,” I beg and then hold my mouth open.

He lets out a
long, unashamed cry as he paints my tongue, then he surges forward and holds me
tight in place, finishing deep in my throat. “Fuuuuuck,” he growls as the waves
grip him.

I close my
eyes and drift away to that place again, if only for a moment. It’s not letting
go. It’s just a taste.

He rescues me
by pulling out and hauling me up onto the bed beside him. He seems to know that
talking won’t help, so he holds me and brushes his fingers through my hair. I’ve
never needed aftercare before. Usually my submission is an act that does the
trick. Afterwards I brush it off and go back to my day. But I need him to hold
me, because this wasn’t a game.

10

BASKET CASE

Crows
fighting, or maybe it’s magpies, I don’t know. Noisy fuckers whatever they are,
wake me with their incessant cackling and I feel the heat of him wrapped around
me before I’m fully awake. I’m comfortable in his arms as I peel my eyes open,
but I can’t help the stretch that creeps through my limbs. My movement disturbs
him and he too starts to stretch out.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I
reply, smiling.

He strokes my
hair. “You okay?” he asks softly, expressing an element of concern.

Why wouldn’t
I be okay? I frown. Then in the same moment it comes back to me and my stomach
churns. I wasn’t okay last night and he knew it. Immediately my shutters come
down and I slap on a bright smile. “Yeah I’m fine.”

He looks at
me for a few seconds, worry etched on his dark features, then he forces a
smile. “Good,” he says kissing me quickly on my lips and moving to an upright
position. He gazes around the garden: the morning sun has begun to filter
through the trees and a dappled light dances around as the breeze moves the
leaves overhead. “It’s beautiful here, who does it belong to?”

“A friend.”

He shuffles
to get to his feet, closing his jeans as he stands up. “Do we have to jump out
of here?” he asks scanning the top of the wall.

“We can if
you like,” I laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed and stretching my arms above
my head. A satisfying yawn accompanies the stretch, before I continue, “but
there is a door.” I point to a partially hidden door set into the mossy wall on
the opposite side of the garden from where we came in.

“Excellent, I
was about to limber up.”

I lay back,
propped up on my elbows, some of my confidence returning and look him up and
down with a lascivious stare. “Don’t let
me
stop you.”

He raises a
brow and climbs over me, stopping when he has me straddled and pinned beneath
him. “I could do a few squats for you if you like,” he says, grinding his arse
on my dick.

I press up to
meet him, moaning.

He lifts up
and reverses off the bed, putting his feet on the floor either side of mine,
but leaving his hands on the bed and his face hovering just in front of mine. “But
not right now.” He leans forward, kissing me tenderly and then pulls away
grinning. “I’m hungry.” With that, he stands and, without any warning, yanks me
up off the bed.

“Come on then,
let’s get out of here.”

We head over
to the door and I pull aside the ivy that covers the key pad.

“Pretty high
tech this secret garden of yours, isn’t it?”

I laugh. “It’s
not mine.”

“Your friend’s
then. Must be a big old secret.”

I turn to
look at him; he is smiling innocently, if only he knew. “He doesn’t want anyone
in here.” I turn back to the key pad and enter the code.

“Anyone
except you,” he mutters.

Was that a
hint of disapproval in his tone? Hmmm. I choose to ignore it, not wishing to
justify my access to this private place. When I pull the heavy door open, I
have to part the curtain of ivy to step out into the meadow on the outskirts of
the pack land.

The wall is
lined with trees and with the door so hidden, you’d never know it hid the
romantic garden behind it. I lead the way through the tree line as is my habit,
circling the meadow until we reach the edge of the woodland, where we can walk
freely across the meadow without risking questions about where we’ve been. The
pack come and go from the acres of woodland all the time, it’s not suspicious
to emerge from there. T slips his hand into mine and I squeeze it and smile.

Holding hands,
we walk towards the house in the distance. T whistles as we approach. “Damn,
are you sure you have a big enough house there, City Boy?”

“Yeah, it’s
pretty big. It’s the pack house, so my parents live there with my brothers and
sister and their families. People come and go constantly, it’s always busy.”
 

“You don’t
live there?”

“No way, that
house makes Piccadilly Circus seem like an oasis of calm. I’ll take central
London any day.”

T nods,
thoughtful as we pass through the gate and across the garden. “How many
brothers do you have?” he asks.

“The three
you met last night and one more who lives over there,” I point across the
fields to a cottage in the distance among a cluster of barns and farm
buildings. And I have a little sister.

“And who
lives there?” He asks waving towards the roof tops visible between the trees on
the road that leads back out of the estate.”

“The rest of
the pack.”

“Pretty
fancy.”

“We do okay.”

Reaching the
front steps, T pauses and seems to back off. “I’ll um…” He points his thumb
back over his shoulder. He doesn’t want to come in and quite frankly, I don’t
blame him. He only met me two days ago. Meeting my family would be too much too
soon.

I pull him
against me and kiss him slowly. Tense at first, I guess because we are standing
on my parent’s doorstep, he soon melts into it, wrapping his arms around me. As
we break apart he feathers light kisses on my neck and whispers, “I had fun.”

“Me too,” I
reply, struggling with my emotion.
 
“I
don’t want you to go.” It’s difficult to read his expression, but it seems
almost hopeful. “You said you were hungry, stay, my Mum does the most epic
breakfast.” I almost plead with him as I press a kiss to his temple.

“I’m not sure,”
he says. But he is hesitating. That’s a good sign. “Don’t you think it’s rude
to turn up unannounced? There won’t be enough for me.”

I throw my
head back and laugh, taking his hand and shaking my head at the irony of what
he said. I climb the three front steps and turn the handle, looking back at him
with an amused grin.

I open the
door and immediately the hum of the house hits us. The familiar welcoming smell
of breakfast fills our nostrils and the cacophony of controlled chaos floats
down the hallway to greet us. T drops my hand and stands there looking
surprised. I deliberately came to the front door to give us a few moments for T
to adjust. Everyone uses the back door which enters right into the huge kitchen
space, via a boot room. But this way, he can adjust to the madness, before
being plunged right in.

At this early
hour, it will be Mum and Dad, most of the grandkids and probably my brother’s
mates, trying to keep order and a few of the pack’s early birds. Many of them
eat in their own homes, but at weekends, my Mum’s breakfast will call to you
until you relent.

He hesitates,
taking in the chatter and clatter from the kitchen. “You sure this will be okay?”

 
“Are you going to stand in
the hall all day? Or are you going to bring your friend in so your mother can
feed him?”
My father’s amused tone fills my head and I
laugh. T looks at me quizzically.

“Trust me,” I
say, taking his hand again and making a point of not hiding it from view as we
walk into the kitchen.

“Ah! The
wanderer returns.” Ben bellows from the table.

I take it on
the chin and lead T into the room; I feel his hand tighten on mine as he takes
it all in.

“Fuck your family is huge!”

My Mum saves
him from mildly panicking by running over and doing her thing. “Hi, I’m Maxi’s
Mum, call me Vivi,” she says, grabbing him in a warm motherly squeeze.

“Maxi?”
T quirks a brow over Mum’s shoulder. I shrug. When
she releases him, he lets go of me and shakes my Dad’s outstretched hand,
addressing them both. “Hi, I’m T. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Ross McQueen,”
Dad tells him. “Maxi never brings his friends home, it’s lovely to meet you, T.”
Dad gives me a wink to let me know he’s teasing.

“Come eat,”
orders Mum.

“We’re just
going to go and freshen up first Mum, back in a minute.” Turing to T, I grin. “Come
on.”

He follows me
back into the hall, looking somewhat relieved, and we head upstairs. “Thanks
for rescuing me, I feel gross hugging your mum in these dirty clothes.”

I lead him
into my room and close the door, eyeing him suggestively.

“You can stop
looking at me like that. There’s like a hundred people in this house.”

Shrugging, I
advance on him, pinning him up against the door. “I don’t mind an audience,” I
murmur against his lips.

“I’ll take
you down into the kitchen and fuck you on the table, I don’t care. I’m just
trying to make an impression. It’s not every day a guy introduces me to his parents.”
He smiles and presses his lips to mine.

Oh shit.

I guess I
didn’t really think that through, we were just here and I…oh.
 
I peel myself off him and look away. I’ve
never brought someone I’m seeing home. Ever. Shit. Fuck. Balls.

T chuckles
and snaps me out of my bubble. He’s loving this. I narrow my eyes and then turn
abruptly and go to my bathroom.

Selecting a
new toothbrush for him from the cabinet and setting it out with the toothpaste
on the counter, I’m aware that he’s followed me and is standing in the doorway
watching. “Help yourself to anything you want, I’ll leave you to it.”

He pushes his
shoulder away from the door frame to let me past, but I can feel his stare
linger after me. I know I’m behaving like a petulant child, but I can’t help it.
I’m used to having control over everything; I’m the one that calls the shots. I
don’t do feelings like this, but right now I’m struggling. I know I invited him
here, but I didn’t mean to introduce him to my parents, not like that anyway.
Ugh but this is all new and so unlike me.

When I turn
back he has gone in the bathroom but he hasn’t closed the door. I can hear him
relieve himself and it makes me nervous. Just the act of not closing the
bathroom door shows how unabashed he is. A longing in the pit of my stomach
stirs, to be as free as him.

I mean, I’m
comfortable, supremely confident even, within certain parameters. But never
have I been cock sure as to casually wander, on my first visit, into a stranger’s
bathroom and pee with the door open. He’s a little intimidating and I don’t
like being on the intimidated side of that dynamic. I work hard to make sure I’m
always on top, even when I’m not and T is just crashing through all my
structure like it’s a house of cards.

I let out a
frustrated sigh. I need to go too, so I let myself quietly out of the room and
head to the toilet down the hall. When I come back, my bathroom door is still
half open and I catch a fleeting glance of him, shirt off and jeans hanging low
on his hips. His sculpted back is adorned with ink in various places, the cleft
of his bottom is visible and just the thought of him with no underwear on is
enough to make my cock twitch.

He looks up
in my direction and I freeze, caught perving. His lips curl up in a smile, with
the satisfaction that I was watching him and he leans against the counter.

“See anything
you like?”

My stomach
flips and I can feel the fluster building. Damn it, there goes my self-control!
I’m not a stranger to seeing a new partner at ease and semi clothed, but what I’m
not used to is how this particular one makes me feel. Ignoring his question, I
try to pull together an air of confidence and walk towards the open door.

“If you want
a shower help yourself.”

“I could use
one,” he replies, sniffing under his armpit. “But won’t breakfast be over soon?”

I shake my
head, entering the room and trying not to let his scent overwhelm me. I cross
to the shower and leaning in, I turn it on. “It’s early, you wait, breakfast
has barely started, my Mum will keep the production line rolling until noon,
trust me. At which point she will start roasting something.”

I straighten
up and back into him, not realising he got so close. My senses are completely
on the blink. I stiffen as his arms wrap around me and his hands start to
explore. All hope I had of leaving him to shower alone evaporates when he lifts
my T-shirt over my head.

His hands
slide around my hips and his lips find my neck as he strokes my hardening cock
through my jeans. I sigh, dropping my head back to rest on his shoulder. His
lips cause shivers and keep me distracted while he drops my jeans to the floor
and before I know it, he is pushing my boxers down and urging me forward into
the stream of water.

I stand for a
minute and let the water cascade over my head and down my back. It’s so
relaxing and it feels so good to just wash away the stress of the last couple
of days. Just when I start to feel at ease he steps in behind me and I tense
again.

What am I
doing? I can’t have sex with him in here.

With my head
still under the spray and him close behind me, I feel penned in and panic
starts to build. Shit, I can’t lose control here, this cannot happen. His arms
come around me and I’m about to push them off when I feel him reach for the
bottles on the shelf in front of me. He steps back a little, then I hear the
cap of the shampoo open.