Page 22 of On the Mountain

Crow pulled iced tea from the fridge, and I asked, “Do you have any soda? Preferably something with caffeine in it?” because I needed another caffeine fix. He shook his head and made a face that said he was judging me. “What’s wrong with soda?”

Again, he didn’t answer—was this something from The Enlightened? No soda?—but surprisingly, his silence didn’t bother me.

He finished getting me iced tea, so at least I’d get a little caffeine, then crossed his arms, leaning against the fridge while he watched me eat. And when I say watched me, I mean that literally. He didn’t look away from me the whole time, making my cheeks heat up because it was strange and a little embarrassing to be watched while you ate.

“Are you queer?” I asked. Was this just about fucking me?

Crow frowned. “I’m…nothing.”

What did that mean? He was ace? Didn’t feel attraction? Didn’t crave sex? Or maybe… “You’ve never…?” Christ, was he a virgin? But then that made sense. He’d been alone up here since he was eighteen years old.

“I fuck. I’ve been fucking since…” He took a breath like he was working through what he wanted to say, or how to say it, or hell, maybe his voice was just getting used more than it typically did. “Sixteen.”

“Sixteen?” I snapped. I mean, I had too at that age, but… “You were the only minor up here…” Which meant he’d been fucking someone older.

His stare turned cold, putting off enough ice to make me tremble. He shut down, the kindness I’d seen in him completely dead. He knew now that I’d been looking him up—that, or people had talked to me—and he clearly didn’t like it.

“I’m sorry… I…”

“Don’t. Talk. About. That. Again.” His words were choppy, but that wasn’t what made me rear back; it was the venom in each and every one of them.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Eat.” He pointed at my food again.

For whatever reason, that pissed me off. “You know what, Crow? Fuck you. I don’t know which way is up with you. First, you follow me through the woods, then when I hurt myself, you bring me to your house. You take care of me, ice and wrap my ankle, watch me sleep and piss. You give me crutches, then send me on my way and ignore me for months. Make me feel like I don’t matter, and I get it, you don’t fucking know me. I don’t matter to you. Then suddenly, you see a black eye and go into protective mode, force me up the mountain and feed me when I have no fucking clue what is going on! I’m done with this!”

I shoved off the stool, hearing it clatter to the hardwood behind me. I headed for the door, and the second I opened it, Crow’s hand came down on the wood, slamming it shut again.

His front pressed against my back, his breath hot and hard against my ear, and like the needy slut I was, I pushed back against him, savored his heat, needed to feel something good, something that reminded me I was alive.

Crow inhaled a sharp breath, then another like he was trying to suck the scent of me into his senses forever. His hand came down on my hip, holding, squeezing, so tight that I knew there would be marks, but I didn’t want him to let go. I might die if he let go.

I had no idea if he was queer or straight or sexual at all, but when I pushed back against him again, I felt the hard column of his erection behind his fly. I wanted to melt into him, wanted him to fuck me hard until I forgot who I was, until I was nothing but an extension of him.

It was too much. It was a raw, obsessive way to feel about anyone, especially a man I didn’t know, but I’d always been broken inside, and maybe this was just another way.

“Crow.” His name fell breathlessly from my lips, and like last time, it seemed to jerk him out of whatever trance he was in. His body stiffened, his hand loosening, but I grabbed it, held it to me. “Please. I need it. If you want me at all, please don’t stop.”

His growl was deeper, more urgent and wild than any I’d heard from him before. When he pulled his hand away, I thought he was going to stop, but all he did was use both of them to unbutton and unzip my jeans. He ripped those and my underwear down my thighs, then collapsed behind me, spread my ass cheeks, and dove in.

For a moment I was nervous, but I had showered right before going to the pharmacy, so we should be okay. Crow licked at my hole, made a fucking meal of it, rasping it back and forth like he was ravenous for me. Pleasure sent tingles shooting down my spine, fireworks going off inside me.

He groaned when he couldn’t spread my legs more. He jerked my pants to my knees, I heard him spit, and then Crow pushed one thick finger inside me. “Christ yes!” I cried out. Needing this. Needing him.

He fucked me with it, rubbing my prostate and making my cock throb with need. All I heard were his deep breaths, the sound of him finger-fucking me with one, then two digits. It was tight and not as lubricated as it should be.

I moaned, and somehow he could tell it was different. Crow pulled back, but I begged, “Please don’t stop,” so he spit on his fingers again, then continued pleasuring me. He used his mouth on me again, alternating between both to open me up, to soften me and get me ready for his cock.

I was mindless, as wild and feral as he was. “Fuck me. I need you to fuck me.” In that moment I felt like it could sustain me for life, better than anything else. Logic told me that was wrong, but right now I didn’t care.

Crow shoved to his feet. I heard his pants open and felt him tugging them down. There was more spit, which I knew he was stroking his cock with. This would hurt, but not as much as not having him.

The head of his cock pressed against my rim. He pushed, the familiar pressure there, but slightly more because there was no lube and I could tell Crow was a big man. He kept going, but slowly, so as not to hurt me. One of his hands reached around to my mouth. He pressed his fingers inside, and I let him. The other he wrapped around my cock and began to stroke. He fucked into my ass, my mouth, and jerked me, before taking my precum and spit and trying to slick up his cock some more.

“Keep going,” I pleaded.

Then, as if we’d read each other’s minds, I pushed back while Crow thrust. He filled me, a puff of his breath against my neck while I said his name. Crow’s hips pulled back, then snapped forward again.