Page 36 of False Comeback

“Jesus Christ, you are such an ungrateful prick,” I gritted out. “Too fucking arrogant to just thank me and own up to your fucking part in this. No, not your part—you’re responsible for all of it. It’s all your fucking fault, yet I’m still getting blamed as well.”

“I didn’t ask you to take any of the blame,” he snarled. “So why the fuck did you?”

“Trust me, asshole, I’m regretting it.”

“Is your ego really so fragile that you need me to thank you for something I didn’t even ask you to do?” He sneered, then sarcastically drawled, “Thank you so much, Vince, for being such a big person. I’m sure everyone thinks you’re just amazing for not letting me take the fall on my own.”

“God, I can’t fucking stand you.” I backed away from him and stretched out my tight neck. “Let’s just run through it one last time so we can leave and I don’t have to look at you anymore.”

“Gladly,” he snapped, his huge wings folding together tight before shrinking down and vanishing. I frowned in confusion, wondering why he’d done that. I knew most fae could retract their wings even in their natural forms, but Crossbody never did. He loved people looking at them, cooing over how stunning they were.

I realised why he’d done it a split second later as he crouched and launched himself at me, barely giving me time to prepare.

I grunted at the impact as he barrelled into me and slammed me onto my back, rage making my vision go red. He hadn’t even performed the scoop slam that started our match. He’d just taken me down. This wasn’t a rehearsal anymore. This was just him trying to overpower me.

Fuck this. Fuck him.

If that was the way he wanted to play this, then fine. If he wanted to wrestle for real, in an attempt to make himself feel big and powerful, then fine.

I’d wrestle him for real.

And I’d fucking win.

Chapter Twelve

Crossbody Admits That He’s a Condescending Asshole

Vince

I snapped my legs around Crossbody’s waist and lurched to the side, throwing him off me. Before he could move, I was climbing over him and grabbing his arm to try and force him onto his back, but he was fast. He wrapped his legs around one of mine and twisted me through the air, pressing a forearm against my nape to make sure I landed face down on my belly.

He clambered over me, dropping his weight on my ass and pinning me down. I snarled and reached back to fumble with his head, trying to grab a fistful of his hair, which made him hiss and press down harder. Finally, I managed to palm the side of his face and shove hard, pushing him to the side so I could scramble up and pin his shoulders to the mat, baring my teeth in a rabid smile as I loomed over him.

His lips peeled back in fury as he lurched up to shove me off, rolling me once again onto my back. We were both breathing hard, and we weren’t even wrestling properly. We were just grappling. Writhing furiously on the mat, both trying to overpower the other.

When I realised my dick was throbbing in my shorts, I tried my best to ignore it. It was just the adrenaline. The full-body contact. It wasn’t because of him.

And he was hard too. His erection kept knocking into mine as we each tried to pin the other, and when Crossbody got me on my back once more, straddling the top of my thigh at an angle, his hips arched forward to drag his hard cock against mine through our shorts.

I gritted my teeth to try and fight back the jolt of pleasure. I didn’t know whether he’d meant to do it, or didn’t even realise he had, but I wasn’t going to let anything distract me. I wasn’t going to let him win.

But when I managed to get him on his belly a few seconds later, I found my own hips pressing forward, grinding my cock hard against his ass. Crossbody’s breath caught as a shudder went down his spine. His hips lifted briefly beneath me, increasing the contact, before he snarled and pitched to the side, sending me flying off him.

He scrambled on top of me, straddling me fully this time, his straining cock rubbing against mine. I grunted, my hands scrabbling weakly over his sides, and then I heard my rough, gravelly voice echo in the empty arena as words started pouring from me, unbidden.

“I know how to get you to fucking thank me.” I bared my teeth and bucked my hips hard so he lost his balance. Scrambling up, I launched myself at him, sending his ass skidding over the mat until he stopped against the corner post.

Straddling him, I wrapped my hand around his throat to keep his head pinned against the post. His Adam’s apple bobbed under my palm, his face flushed and chest heaving.

“All I need to do is remind you what a fucking slut you are and you’ll do anything I want,” I snarled, bringing my face close to his. “Maybe I should teach you a fucking lesson. Make you realise who’s in charge here.”

Crossbody was panting, his hips moving restlessly beneath me, but he made no effort to break free and try to pin me again. I slid my hand higher to grip his jaw roughly, jostling his head, which made his breath hitch.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” I pressed, breathing hard.

He swallowed, eyes growing pleading as he gazed up at me, before his chin dipped in a desperate nod.

“You want to choke on my dick again, don’t you?” I used my thumb to pull on his lower lip, then pressed it inside his mouth. His eyelashes fluttered as he moaned, sucking feverishly. “Because you’re just a cumdump. Isn’t that right, your highness?”