EWB: Enemies With Benefits

by N.R. Walker

“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.”

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

I was bereft by his absence, hollowed out and empty. I wanted him to stay inside me. I wanted him to stay inside me until he was ready to fuck me again. 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.

“What—and I mean this with as much sincerity as possible—the actual fuck? You want me to hate-fuck you?” Hate-fuck. That made me smile. “Yes.”

asked, just sex and nothing more. Like friends with benefits—” With his hand on the door handle, he gave me a snarl over his shoulder. “We are not friends.” I smiled at him. “And that makes it so much better.”

“I show you respect,” I replied. “You should hear the shit I don’t say out loud.”

He did exactly what I needed him to do. Ordered me to my knees and made me suck his dick. And what a glorious dick it is. Better this time than the bathroom stall incident. This time he’d fisted my hair and drove himself into my throat, making me choke, and called me a whore and a piece of shit while he skull-fucked me. He was relentless.

gestured to Enzo, who was now a black loaf purring on my lap. “What the fuck is this?” “He likes me. Cats are a very good judges of character.” “He’s a traitor, and he crossed enemy lines.” I laughed. “Enemies with benefits includes cuddles with the cat.”

So I sucked him to within an inch of his life. I did him so good he had one foot off the floor and had his head back, his body arched, groaning like the whore he was.

I hated that he turned me on so much. I hated that every little thing he did sang to me in ways no one else ever had. My dick wanted him 24/7, wanted to be buried inside him every minute of every goddamn day.

“You need to learn your place,” I hissed at him, jerking myself. So close already. So fucking close. “And your place is beneath me, taking everything I give you.”

I left him, still lying on his dining table with his trackpants around his thighs, covered in my come, and I walked out.

I just really liked getting held down and deep-dicked by a guy who was hung like a horse. If he called me names while he held me down, even better. And if I ached for a day afterward and could imagine feeling his dick still inside me, double bonus.

I wanted to stretch him thin, to iron out any knots and troubles, and hold him. I wanted to kiss him, make sure he ate properly. I wanted to make him smile. I wanted to fix him. So I held him tighter and fucked him slower. I lost myself to the warmth of his body, to the feel of him underneath me, to the sounds he made, to the gasps and moans. I lost all track of time. And maybe for the first time, I lost myself. All that existed was him.

Oh yeah. I was in deep trouble. Deeeeeep. Like Marianna Trench levels of deep. And you know what? I didn’t fucking care.

First time in my life I’d ever had a full conversation with a cat.

“Is that my text?” I asked. “Why is my name the pizza emoji in your phone?” He laughed, and so help me god, his smile was incredible, high or not. “Pizza. Nine inches. Deep dick . . . I mean, deep pan.”

“My longest stint was barely a month. How long have you and not-Martin been not-dating?” I snorted and tried to think . . . “Uh, two months, maybe.” “Jesus, Valentine. That’s practically married in gayville.” I wasn’t even bothering to reply to that.

Then he held up his phone. “Oh, and I changed your name to the peach emoji.” I glared at him. “Nice.” He grinned at me. “You should be grateful. I wanted to make it the washing machine emoji, but there isn’t one.” “A washing machine?” “Yeah. I put loads in it.”

But then Marshall shoved me onto the bed, folded me in half and fucked me good and hard. Like he loathed me. Like he couldn’t get enough of me. Like he loved me.

me. “I know. I know how you like it. You like me to walk in, bend you over and put a load in you, and walk out. I know you like that. And I’m still on board with that because it’s hot as fuck. But sometimes I’ll slow-fuck you and put a load in you. And other times I’ll make love to you for hours and—” He shrugged. “—put a load in you.”

“I don’t hate you, Valentine.” I nodded into his neck. “I don’t hate you either.”

“But don’t get any ideas. Just because I wanna spend forever with you and don’t hate you anymore doesn’t mean I like you or anything.” I laughed, so much in love. “Good, just because I said yes doesn’t mean I like you or anything either.”