Trained by My Teammate (My Dark Jock #3)

by Arden Long

My eyes are drawn down to his lips. I know what it’s like to kiss them now. The one and only time we kissed, over a week ago, it was me who initiated it. The memory of that kiss feels dirtier than the hot hard fucking I gave him on the bleachers afterward.

here,” he says. Now what? I obey, expecting him to make me drink some other healthy sludge, or drop and give him twenty. Instead, he backs me up against a tree and fits his hand around my throat. I gulp, my blood suddenly rushing in my ears. “I've had just about enough of your bratty whining. If I say run, you shut up and run.” His face is inches from mine, his eyes hot. His breath brushes against my cheek, minty and fresh. “I'm this close to bending you over and spanking your ass raw right here, but I’ll give you one more chance to impress me. We're going to play a little game; you run, as fast as you can, and if I catch you…” he moves against me and I can feel the hard length of his erection against my hip suggestively. “Understand?”

He lets go. “Run.” I take off at the speed of light, kicking up dirt and leaves behind me. As I put some distance between us, my pulse racing, I glance behind. He's just standing there watching me with those dark predator eyes, giving me a head start, and it sends a thrill through me that grounds in my caged cock. That look tells me everything I need to know; no matter how fast I run he's going to catch me, and then he's going to do whatever he wants to me.

As we play a game of cat and mouse through the trees, I actually feel the thrill of fear, like I'm a rabbit running from a wolf. But this wolf already owns me, and I know it.

“That's right,” he hisses in my ear and his fingers tangle in my hair, pulling my head back. “You're mine, any place, any time. And I'm going to remind you of that.”

He slides his dick up and down and I groan in my throat. Then he crouches and hooks his hands around my knees, hoists my legs up onto his shoulders, so my sweatpants and boxers are hooked over the back of his neck, and I’m hanging, back pressed against the tree, half my weight supported by the rough bark, my other half braced against his front.

“This is what you get when you're a brat,” he says through clenched teeth. “Do you want to come?” I nod. God, I want to come so bad. “Well, I'm not going to let you. You haven't earned it yet. You only get to come when I say so.”

I grab him by the front of his top, cutting him off, and push him against the tree, switching our positions. His eyes, still heavy with his orgasm, widen as I kiss him hard.

This, this is something else. And it's something I don't want. Something I can't have. This feels too intimate.

Can he feel how hard my pulse is racing? I don't want him to know he has the power to make me react like this with something as stupidly pathetic as a fucking kiss.

I just need a little bit of a break from him, to make sure my head’s on straight and I don't make any stupid mistakes. Like actually fall for him.

“I didn’t tell you to suck me off. Keep still. I just want to keep my cock warm with your mouth.”

I stare up at him while I ease my fingers in and out of my hole, breathing faster as I keep my lips stretched around his dick. It hardens in my mouth, pushing back until it brushes on the back of my tongue.

“Good boy. Do you want your hole filled?” The offer has my heart racing as I continue to pump my fingers into myself. “Yes,” I gasp. “Earn it,” he says. “Fuck yourself with your fingers. I want to see you dripping in your cage.”

Ugh, hearing him beg like this is like goddamn crack in my veins. A wave of sizzling pleasure rolls through me, setting my own cock throbbing, and I savor the moment, drinking in his trembling body, flushed and already sweaty, and the way his head hangs down between his shoulders, utterly defeated. “Good boy.”

He looks like a deity with the water trailing down over his chest, between his defined shoulder blades, over his tight ass and long legs. His blond hair sticks to his head, dark with water. The washing carries on longer than strictly necessary, before I turn the shower off. He steps out, water dripping down the length of his naked body. I want to bend him over the towel rack and fuck him right here and now. I want to cover that smooth toned body with my marks, claim him as all mine.

He sucks my cock like it's the last meal he’ll ever have, his brow creased with the desire he can't deny. His cheeks and ears are tipped with a delicious pink glow, embarrassed by his own need.

“I'm going to have to punish you if you eat that.” “Oh really?” “Yes.” “Hmm.” For a moment he looks like he's considering his options, then slowly and deliberately, looking into my eyes, he takes a spoon and scoops a heaped load of chili, dripping with cheese sauce, into his mouth, drawing it out between his lips slowly like an overly sexual yogurt commercial. “Oops.” I pull my lips down. “You're going to pay for that when we get back.” He winks at me. “Ok, Daddy.”

“Alright. Jesus. I get it. There's no need to tear my fucking head off. It was only a question. If you fucking hate me so much why are we even here.”

If he wants to be mad at me, fine, I deserve it. But when it comes to his safety, I’m not fucking around.

His eyes flash. “I don't want to see you ever leave this room without it again, do you understand?” “Whatever Mal, just chill out man.” My heart races. “Don’t call me Mal, my name is Malcolm. And I said do you understand?!” He looks fucking wild. “Yes, I understand,” I say. “Why the hell does it matter to you anyway? You don’t give a fuck about me, right? Other than as a way to get your dick wet.”

I snatch my arm out of his grip and push him. He stumbles backward and tumbles onto his bed with enough force to make him gasp. But when he looks at me again his eyes are hungry. “Don't fucking touch me.” I turn towards the door and as I leave, he calls after me, his voice echoing down the hall. “I know what you're doing with him!”

His face is tight and closed off. Unreadable. I always wanted to wipe that dopey grin off his face, but not like this. I don’t like this.

“Why do you have to be like this with me?” I steel myself. I can do this. “Like what?” “Like, one minute we’re having a great time, and then the next,” he shakes his head, “you’re a different person. And you're fucking vicious. I get that you’ve got that dark broody thing going on, and I dig it, but there's a difference between stoic bad boy and a goddam walking red flag. It’s like you try to be as hurtful as possible.” He makes a hot noise of frustration and for a panicked moment I think he's going to cry. “How the fuck am I meant to read all these different signals Malcolm? You’re all over the place!”

“I like you, Malcolm. OK? Like, a lot. I don’t know why, because you're always such an asshole to me. I guess I'm just dumb or something. But I do. And if you don’t want it to be more than it is then that’s fine, I won't push you. But that's all you had to say.”

North looks down at his shoes. “I mean, I get that I was stupid not taking the EpiPen out, so, I guess I'm not that mad about that. But I just want to know, why do you care so much?” His voice turns hopeful at the end. Ok. that was a direct question. Time for me to speak. My throat works. Say something. My voice croaks on the words. “Because I…care about…your wellbeing.”