He kisses me to silence. Eats the last few garbled words. “Oh, I’ll ruin you,” he tells me. “But you’re mine, so I’ll always put you back together again, too.”
His hips jerk away, almost all the way out, and slam forward so brutally I shout. He doesn’t give me a beat to brace myself or prepare for the next wave; it comes and comes, seismic thrusts that trigger earthquakes across my skin, goose bumps so sensitive they ache.
I moan his name, moan it until it becomes a sob, and I know as I reach for my dick that he isn’t going to let me. He grabs my hand and puts his mouth at my ear and snarls, “Mine,” and it doesn’t matter that he stopped me from touching myself, I almost come on that hair-trigger word.
He pulls out without pretense and flips me over.
I go, ass in the air and fingers groping for the top of his mattressas he impales me again, nailing my prostate with each hard drive, interstellar light playing in fragments across my eyelids.
The sheet pops off the corner of the bed. A pillow goes flying. I’m scrambling, clinging to fabric, seeking leverage, seeking gravity. Every thrust shoots me further into orbit, the air thinning.
“Thio,” I whine. “Thio,please—”
He pulls out again. I all but scream and claw back for him, but he grabs my torso and heaves me up until I’m sitting on his bent legs and he’s slamming up into me.
He has his hand around my neck, holding my back to his chest, the way we were at the dance club. I writhe like there’s music now, bouncing on his cock, swaying to the firing beat of our own pulses.
“This ass.” He digs his forehead into my shoulder. “You’re too good. Gonna make me come. You want that? My cum in you. Filling you up. Gods, Sebastian—wanna mark you, wanna come inside you.”
If I had a semblance of control over my brain, I’d be mortified by the sounds that undulate out of my mouth. Wails and “Yes, gods, Thio, I want it, please—”
He grabs my hips and stabs so deep within me I swear I can feel him in my throat. It stops me from moving and my head falls back against his shoulder, hands grasping at his hair, at his fingers where they bruise my hips.
“Not yet,” he tells me. “Don’t want to come yet. Okay?”
No, no—the need to come is stifling me. It’s a clamp on my neck and pleasure-pain radiating through my chest and down my thighs,no.
I whine again, and nod.
Ruin me.
He maneuvers me off the bed, bends me over, and fucks me face-first into the mattress.
The moment either of us gets close, he pulls out and changes the position.
Him holding me against the wall.
We drop to the floor, and fuck there, too.
Then back on his bed, me riding him, gods, so close,so close—
He shoves me away, my head bouncing off the foot of themattress, and I barely have enough grip on reality to bark out a raspyfuck youbefore he’s driving back into me, the two of us half hanging off his bed.
His lips are everywhere; mine are, too, biting, sucking. What’s bruise and what’s shudder, what’s kiss and what’s teeth? This stopped being something tangible; we’re stratospheric now, rocketing through outer planes and star-speckled multiverses.
His hand finally wraps around my oversensitive dick and I strangle down a scream. I’m coming on barely one tug, orgasm detonating in the pit of my stomach and rolling off eruptions that annihilate all last ties to anything substantial. There’s only pure beams of light, the salty taste of sweat on his neck, the tectonic shift caused by this destruction.
One last determined thrust, and his shout chokes off in an intensity that doesn’t allow sound. Bleary, I watch him, soaking up the way the tendons in his neck stand out in stark contrast, those red stripes on his cheeks near neon.
I lean up and kiss one of those stripes. The other.
He catches my mouth in a retreating kiss as he pulls out of me. I only have a moment to wince before he’s dragging me away from the edge of the mattress and shoving my knees up to my stomach.
“Wha—” But no question comes, just pathetic gasping, and I look down to see him staring at my hole.
I can feel his cum leaking out of me. That’s what he’s looking at.
He’s been a predator before, but it was only a part of him, a flicker of could-be.
