When Rivals Fuck (7)
It isn’t a suggestion. It’s a command, raw and thick with authority.
Part of me wants to pull back, to hesitate. But the rest of me is already moving, hands scrambling against the sheets.
I flip over to face him and my breath hitches.
Julian hovers above me, his arms braced on either side of my head. His face is flushed, his dark hair a wild mess, and his eyes… his eyes are wide, darkened at the pupils, glittering with mischief and hunger.
There’s a softness there too, like he’s both lost and found in me, a joy I can feel in the way he leans closer.
He doesn't wait for me to get settled.
He reaches down, his large hands gripping my thighs and adjusting me until I’m exactly where he wants me.
I feel his cock pressing against my entrance again, blunt and demanding.
“You’re so beautiful right now, Frank,” he whispers.
I swallow hard, my throat dry. I don’t feel beautiful. I feel messy. My skin is sweaty, my glasses are probably crooked on the nightstand, and I’m completely undone.
My chest tightens as I look up at him, the heat in his skin and the hunger in his eyes making my knees weak.
He’s… breathtaking.
I want to tell him, but the words stick. Every muscle in me is tuned to him and I can only gasp, memorizing his face like it’s a painting I’ll never forget.
Then, he thrusts.
Not fast. Just deep—slow enough that I feel every inch of him pressing in, splitting me open, forcing my body to take him.
My breath stutters.
My fingers twitch against the sheets.
And then he drives deeper.
Harder than before.
It hits that exact spot and my entire world flashes white.
My head jerks back against the pillow, my eyes rolling as a shiver tears through me.
“Keep your eyes open,” Julian rasps, his forehead brushing mine. His hand tightens on my hip. “Look at me,” he adds, voice rough.
And I do—snapping my gaze to his as if I’d been waiting for this command all my life.
I stare up at him, dazed and desperate.
Julian is moving with a rhythm that is both brutal and perfect. His face looks like he’s drunk, like he’s getting high just from the feeling of being inside me.
“Fuck… you’re going to kill me, Frank,” he mutters, teeth gritted, hips stuttering as he drives in. “So tight… so damn warm.”
“Shit,” I groan, the sound torn from the back of my throat. “Julian…”
He reaches down between our bodies, his fingers closing around my cock.
He starts to stroke me, his thumb rubbing over the head with a firm, steady pressure that matches the pace of his hips.
“Geez… oh god,” I gasp, my fingers clutching him as warmth rushes through me, my mind scrambling to keep up with every thrust.
“Yeah? You like that? You like how I’m taking you?” he rasps, his breath coming in jagged bursts.
“Hmm,” I nod frantically, my fingers digging into the muscles of his arms.
He pulls back just enough to reach for the bottle of lubricant.
The soft click of the cap cuts through the room.
Then his hand returns, slick now, stroking me hard enough to make my toes curl.
His grip tightens again.
And when he pushes back in, it’s smoother.
Deeper.
Like he’s claiming more than my body this time.
I reach up, my palms flat against his sweat-slicked chest. I can feel his heart thundering under his ribs.
“Harder,” I beg, my voice sounding like broken glass. “Julian, go harder.”
He lunges forward, his movements becoming faster and more urgent.
The bed creaks under us, the only sound in the room besides our ragged breathing and the wet slap of skin against skin.
“That’s it… don’t hold back, Julian. I want the part of you that fought me too.”
“Fuck,” he pants.
The tension in my body builds. Every nerve screams, and I feel like I’m on the edge of snapping.
I feel the sparks behind my eyelids, the heat in my blood reaching a boiling point.
Julian’s hand is a blur on my cock, and his movements inside me are desperate now.
“Frank… Frank, I’m—I’m close,” he gasps, his fingers digging into my hips.
“Me too,” I sob out.
With one final, deep thrust that feels like it touches my very soul, Julian lets out a loud, guttural shout.
I feel the hot, pulsing release fill me, and at the same moment, I explode in his hand.
My whole body jolts, my back arching off the bed as a long, shaky moan breaks from my lips.
For a long minute, the only sound is our gasping breath.
Julian collapses on top of me, his head burying in the crook of my neck. He’s heavy, his skin hot and damp against mine.
My body goes loose under him, like it doesn’t belong to me anymore. Like I wouldn’t even know how to go back to who I was before this.
I wrap my arms around him, holding him close, feeling the slow return of my heartbeat.
I can’t help the giggle that bubbles up, trembling through me. My hair is sticking in wild strands across my forehead, my skin still sticky from our heat.
Julian shifts, propping himself up on his elbows to look at me. He looks exhausted but happy. “What? What’s so funny?”
“I didn’t even brush my teeth or shower,” I admit, voice breathless. “I’m a mess.”
I run a hand through my wild hair letting out a breathy laugh. “I had no idea being reckless and messy could feel so… hot. Julian… it’s unbearably sexy.”
Julian just smiles, slow and easy, like he’s memorizing every crooked line of me. Somehow, it makes me feel… irresistible.
“That’s a good thing, Golden Boy,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. “Not everything has to be under your control. Sometimes… you need to break. To feel the thrill of the crash.”
I pause, looking deep into his eyes.
The rivalry now feels miles away.
I reach up, cupping his face, and plant a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. It’s a quiet kiss, full of a different kind of intensity.
“Thank you,” I murmur against his mouth.
My mind drifts to the blueprints downstairs, the Metropolitan Project waiting.
But it feels far away, just a faint echo beneath the pounding pulse of Julian on top of me.
Every thought of work, deadlines, and decisions melts under the warmth of his body pressed to mine.
For once, work doesn’t matter.
And maybe that’s the first mistake I’ve made in a long time.