His Gymnast by Darcy Rose

10

Knox

When I makeit back home, I almost jump up the steps, ready to see her. I never wanted to leave her, but I had no choice. Just because I have an infatuation doesn't mean my job stops. My family needed me, and I couldn’t say no.

When I open the door, I’m expecting to hear the television, or maybe see her perched on the couch reading, or in the kitchen eating, but she’s gone. My mind immediately starts thinking the worst. What if the piece of shit I hadn’t finished off found her? I kick myself. I should have just killed him when I had the chance.

My mind starts to calm when I look at the counter and see a note written in perfect cursive telling me where she went, and she’ll be back. My anger eases slightly, but the fact she’s out there without me—without my protection—brings it right back.

I hurry back out of my house and slip back into my car. Nothing seems to matter as I haul ass to the gym. The only thing I’m focused on is seeing her. When I see the old run-down sign indicating I’ve made it, I pull off the street and park directly in the front.

Luckily, I don’t have to wait long before I see her exiting the building. Before she has a chance to make it to the bus stop, I step out and yank her into the alley. “What the fuck, Aria?” She jumps at my booming baritone voice. “Do you realize you could have been hurt? That fucker could have easily found you and finished what he started the other day!”

“I-I didn’t think about that, Knox. I couldn’t miss class.” Her voice is shaky and weak. I hate the way she’s looking at me right now, but I’m having a hard time reining in my anger.

I almost feel bad for scaring her, but she needs to see the bigger picture, the severity of her actions. Her safety is more important than teaching a fucking class. “What would you have done if he came here looking for you?” I ask a little softer, but I keep the edge to my voice.

She drops her bag and crosses her arms over her chest, letting the scared woman I normally see melt away. “I’m sorry, okay? This is all new to me. I’m not used to someone caring about my safety. I already feel like I’m a burden, and if I don’t work, then I have no money. Plus, they needed me here. I can’t just abandon them!” she yells back.

In the few days I’ve spent around her, she’s been a little meek. I’m sure it’s because of what she witnessed me do, but this is an entirely new side to her, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on. Most people are too scared to stand up to me. It's one of the things that make me so good at what I do. No one would dare yell back at me. I’m too intimidating. But her… she isn’t scared.

It’s one of the first things I noticed about her and why I decided to watch her. Now all it does is make me want to fuck her.

With the thought in my mind, I cup her cheeks in my hands and crash my lips to hers. Her hands shoot out beside her, searching for something to help her balance from my punishing kiss. As I back her up and her shoulder blades hit the wall behind us, she finally gives in.

Her hands reach up and grab my hair violently. In retaliation, I bite her lip as a warning, but it only turns her on more. She presses her body into mine harder like she’s trying to get closer, but all of the space is already eaten up. The only thing separating us is clothing.

Almost like she has the same thought, she moves her hands from my hair and drags them down my body. She pulls my shirt up quickly, breaking our kiss only long enough to take it off me completely and throw it to the ground. All I want is to feel her skin against me, so I break our kiss and pull the shirt—my shirt—from her body, leaving her sports bra in place.

“We could get caught,” she whispers, moving her hands to my belt.

“I’ll kill anyone who looks at us.”

She bites her bottom lip with a grin, then unclasps my belt and jeans. She only pushes them down enough to set my cock free, which is already hard and ready.

“I’ve never had someone pierced inside me.”

Her comment has me growling and moving to the waistband of the sweatpants she most definitely grabbed from my drawer. I can’t get them off quick enough. I pull them down, then help her step out of one side, leaving them hanging around one ankle. I hike her leg up, holding her under her knee, then wrap it around my waist.

I hunch down to line my dick up with her pussy. “I’m going to destroy you for any other man. You’re mine and mine only. When you’re aching tomorrow, it’ll be my pierced cock you’re thinking about.”

She moans and grinds her pelvis into mine like she can’t wait any longer. I give in and shove into her. She’s so fucking wet. So fucking tight. I throw my head back and let her adjust to my size and try to calm myself a bit, so I don’t blow.

I pull back out slowly, then push back in. “Knox!”

Hearing my name slip past her lips with a sweet moan pushes me forward. “Do it again. Say my name.”

She complies, throwing her hands around my neck and resting her head against the brick as I fuck her. I shove deep inside her, impaling her with my cock and rubbing against her clit with my pelvis. I could stay buried inside her for the rest of my life and be happy.

The feeling is complete euphoria. Like every nerve ending in my cock is on fire from desire, but I can’t stop searching for more, needing more friction. I’m so close but still not close enough. Every inch of space, every layer of fabric is too much between us.

Her thighs quiver, and I know she is about to come, so I pick up speed, pounding inside her furiously as if my life depends on it.

As she comes, her walls squeeze around me, giving me exactly what I need. When I feel my balls start to squeeze, I move one hand and grip her chin, bringing her eyes back to mine. “Look at me while I come inside you.”

She nods, her mouth open and on the verge of a moan. As I shoot my load inside her, she finally lets it out, and it’s music to my fucking ears.

I keep myself inside her as my dick goes soft. Sated and drained, I want to stay here and not move. I never want to not be inside her, but we can’t sit in an alley all night. Never letting her completely go, I set her down but keep my hand on her hip. I remove myself and pull up my jeans with one hand. “Let me take you home.”

She smiles, still riding the high of her orgasm. “Home? I don’t have a home.”

Her words come out harmless, but the meaning behind them sends a pang to my soul. “My home is your home now. I meant it when I said you’re mine,” I reply, helping her step back into the sweats and put her shirt back on.

“I think I like being yours,” she coos as I lead her out of the alley.

I’ve never felt this way with another woman like I do Aria, and if I’m being honest with myself, I think I like her being mine too.