Page 17 of No Going Back

I creep down the hall, heart slamming against my ribs, and ease Cole’s door open just enough to peek inside. He’s sprawled on his back like always, legs spread, one arm flung over his head, the other resting on his abs. Nothing but boxers. The faint hallway light catches the ridges of his stomach, the cut of his hips, the bulge between his thighs. Perfect.

I step inside, close the door softly, and shove his desk chair under the handle, just in case Hannah wakes up looking for me. Then I lean back against the door, eyes locked on him, and let my hand drift down.

I palm myself through my boxers first slowly, testing. I’m already half-hard just from looking at him. The sight of his sleeping body, relaxed, powerful, mine to stare at, sends heat rushing straight to my groin. I shove my boxers down enough to free my cock, wrapping my fingers around it, stroking, a low hiss escapes me.

I keep watching him. The slow rise and fall of his chest. The way his lips part slightly in sleep. The faint trail of hair disappearing under the waistband. My strokes pick up speed, firm, slick with precome now. I pop the lube cap quietly, squeeze a generous amount onto my fingers, and reach back. One finger circles my hole, then presses in. The stretch is immediate; I bite my lip hard to keep quiet. I add a second finger, scissoring gently, curling them until I brush that spot inside me. My cock jerks in my grip; I stroke faster.

Cole doesn’t wake, doesn’t move. Just sleeps, oblivious and beautiful, and that only makes it hotter. Shameless and wrong, but perfect.

I fuck myself on my fingers, hips rocking into my fist, eyes never leaving him. The wet sounds are obscene in the quiet room, lube slicking my hole, precome slicking my palm, and I don’t care. I want him to wake up and see me like this. Want him to know how badly I need him.

I’m close already, too close, thighs trembling, breath ragged. I curl my fingers harder, stroke myself faster, and imagine it’s him. His thick cock splitting me open. His hands pinning my hips. His voice growling my name.

6

Cole

I stir to something soft but firm pressing over my face. Not enough to suffocate, just enough to muffle sound… a pillow. My brain clicks: someone’s holding it there on purpose to keep me quiet.

The next thing I register is the slow, wet stretch… hot, tight pressure sinking down onto my cock. A groan rips out of me before I can stop it, raw and involuntary, muffled into the fabric.

I throw the pillow off… Remy’s on me, like, fully on me. He’s straddling my hips, thighs clamped around me, ass already halfway down my length. He’s taking me in slow, deliberate inches, eyes locked on mine the whole time. No hesitation, no apology. Just that steady, burning gaze like he’s daring me to stop him.

I swallow hard and look down. He’s rock hard, cock flushed and leaking against my abs. His strong thighs flex and tremble around me, muscles standing out in sharp relief. His arms brace on either side of my head, biceps tensed, veins popping as he holds himself up so he can take me deeper.

But what absolutely wrecks me is his face. Eyes half-lidded, heavy with want. Lips parted on a soft, broken groan that spills out quiet but constant. No regret or shame… open, vulnerable need, like he’s finally letting himself have exactly what he’s been starving for.

I close my eyes for a second, groan low. “Fuck.”

Now I get it. Last time it was him inside me… now I’m inside him, and holy shit, it feels incredible. Hot velvet grip, slick drag on every inch, the way he flutters around me when he bottoms out. It feels so good, so fucking good it hurts. My hips lift on instinct, seeking, and pleasure coils tight in my gut.

Remy moans, head tipping back. “Oh god… do that again.”

I grab his hips without thinking, fingers digging into muscle, and thrust up hard and rough. Again, and again. He lifts one hand and bites down on his knuckles, trying to stifle the sounds, head falling back as his back arches.

“Fuck, Remy…” I growl, voice breathless. “You little shit. You really came in here and took my dick like you own it?”

He moans into his hand, muffled, desperate, and nods frantically.

I moan too, hips snapping up. “God, your ass is so fucking tight… holy shit.”

He can’t speak, can’t even form words, just whimpers around his knuckles. I get this sudden, overwhelming urge to pull him down and kiss him. Really kiss him… mouths crashing, tongues, messy and deep. It feels too far, too intimate, like crossing a line we haven’t named yet.

Oh, fuck this… we’re already so far past lines. I reach up, grab the back of his neck, and yank him down. He gasps against my mouth. I crash our lips together, tongue sweeping in instantly, tasting him. He nibbles my bottom lip, a sharp little bite, and I groan, rolling us in one quick move so I’m on top.

I hook one of his legs higher over my back, changing the angle, deeper. His back arches off the mattress, eyes rolling back in his head at the new pressure. The sight… Remy completely undone, mouth open on silent cries… snaps something in me. I drop my forehead to his bare chest, fucking into him like there’s no tomorrow. Skin slapping, bed creaking, his nails raking down my back.

“Cole… oh god, yes! Cole, fuck me!”

“Shhh,” I rasp against his skin. “You’ve gotta be quiet.”

He whimpers, nods fast, biting his lip bloody.

I slam in again, he scratches harder. I grunt, laughing in disbelief. I can’t believe I’m here again… fucking my best friend.

I lean down, lips at his ear. “Is this what you wanted?”

He nods frantically.