EWB: Enemies With Benefits

by N.R. Walker

I hated Valentine Tye. I hated him with every fibre of my being, with the raging fire of a thousand burning suns.

whereas I just glared at him. And you know what he did? The fucker smiled at me.

because my father’s much-loved hardware store had been squeezed dry and sold for pennies to none other than hardware giant Tye Corp. Valentine fucking Tye.

I fucking hated him for making me want him.

and he turned heads wherever he went. I fucking hated him for that too.

When he saw my traitorous cock, he made the softest grunt. Then he gave me the best blow job of my life. He used his hands, his mouth, his tongue.

He made me come so fast, so hard. He swallowed around me, then swallowed every drop.

I’d also heard he had a huge cock and he had skills that kept men begging for more.

That he liked to fight and fuck, and it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d had his dick out in the bathroom at a pub.

It’d been far too long since I’d tasted dick.

It didn’t hurt that Marshall Wise looked at me as if he wanted to kill me. I found it incredibly provocative. Arousing.

In the last few days, I’d jerked off twice to fantasies of his fat cock inside me.

Like my anger aimed at him was turning him on. He was getting off on this?

Do you want me to lose my shit with you?”

Oh no, this was a grunt of desire. Holy shit.

So I might have wanted to antagonise him a bit. Sue me.

It was the most Valentine-looking cat I’d ever seen. “What’s your cat’s name?” “Enzo.”

“And when you fuck me with your monster cock, I need you to hate me as hard as you can.”

“I want you to fuck me . . . hard. And my problem is that I’m not face down on my bed with your horse-cock inside me, that’s what the fuck my problem is.”

as if I wasn’t worth his time to take them off. I preened a little.

“You want me to fuck you like I hate you?” He pulled out and drove back into me. “Because I fucking do.”

“Look at how you take my cock,” he grunted. “Like the fucking whore you are.”

And I came. My cock untouched. Just pure bliss.

I wanted his seed inside me. So he’d know he owned me, and he could treat me as if he owned me anytime he wanted. I wanted it to never end.

Rules and boundaries. Because I also needed him to fulfil my other needs,

You want me to hate-fuck you?” Hate-fuck. That made me smile. “Yes.”

“No, I need someone who can’t stand me to hold me down and fuck me.”

“Twice a week?” “Yes. Once a week would be anal, just like you did on Saturday night. The other night, whichever night you choose, you can use me for whatever you want.”

“The power exchange is in your favour,” I said. It wasn’t exactly true, but I held his gaze. “You get to treat me like garbage. You can walk in here whenever you want, throw me down, put a load in me, and walk out.”

That I was better than him and that I was in charge, and I’d fuck him into submission.

Oh no. He had a look of serenity on his face. Like I’d dumped his body at the gates of heaven.

I’d prefer Saturday night to be the night you fuck me because it gives me Sunday to recover.” “Recover?” “Yes. Your cock is a lot to take, and I want to relish the aches and pains.”

“Dirty fucking whore,” I said. “You don’t get it down your throat. I want it in your mouth, I want you to taste it. Taste my come, you piece of shit. Suck it out of me.”

Christ almighty, I’d never treated anyone like that before. And fuck, he’d loved every second of it.

He did exactly what I needed him to do. Ordered me to my knees and made me suck his dick.

My throat was sore the next day, and every time it pained me to swallow or talk, I flushed at the memory.

Part of me wanted him to own me so badly, I couldn’t even think straight.

“I don’t give a fuck how ready you are,” he murmured. It sounded like he got into a car. The wind was gone and then his engine started. “I’m fifteen minutes away and then your arse is mine. Ready or fucking not.”

“You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you raw.”

“Can you take more?” he asked, his hand at my throat, tightening just enough. “Always,” I whispered. It sounded like a prayer.

It’d been the hottest sex of my life. I hadn’t come twice that close together since I was seventeen. But holy hell, he did something to me.

Maybe he was onto something; maybe hate-fucking was my kink.

Yeah. He knew who owned him. And damn if my dick didn’t want another go at him.

I shouldn’t like knowing I’d be leaving him tonight with an arse full of my come. But damn . . . That’s what I liked the most.

My father ruined a lot of people’s lives. I wasn’t excluded from that. No one was.

“Who did that to you?” Marshall asked. He shook the water from his hands and met my gaze in the mirror. “Who was it?” That hatred, the barely contained loathing, was in his eyes all right. It just wasn’t aimed at me.

I’d marked his skin. Imprints of my fingers when I’d gripped his throat while I fucked him. While I owned him, owned his body in animalistic ways. Yes, it was fucked up. Me marking him? I was totally on board with that, and so was

Someone else hurting him? Yeah, that didn’t fly with me.

No one else touches him. No one but me. And that feeling, that possessiveness and claim of ownership was a new and strange thing.

No one touched Valentine fucking Tye but me. God, it was so fucked up.