“Yes, sir.”
His growl vibrates down my spine—low, lethal, promising disaster.
His grip in my hair jerkshard.My head snaps back, my body bends, and the next second I’m shoved down. Water crashes over me, steam blinding, my knees hitting slick tile with a sharp thud.
“Fuck—!” The sound rips out of me, half whine, half moan.
His hand stays fisted tight in my hair, keeping me low, making sure I don’t so much asthinkabout moving. The spray pounds my shoulders, my back, hot water mixing with the sting of tile under my knees.
I blink up through the steam, curls plastered to my forehead, breath gone already—and Christ, he looks terrifying. One hand tight in my hair, the other braced heavy against the wall, caging me there.
“Mouthy little pup,” he rumbles. “On your knees where you belong.”
My lips part, a sound slipping free without my permission. My hands twitch on the wet floor, wanting to claw at histhighs, wanting to hold on. My cock’s already twitching, shameless, hard against my stomach.
He tilts his head “Open.”
I do. Instantly. Like I was built for it.
Steam swirls around us, water hissing louder, but I can only hear him—his breath, his growl, his command. My tongue flicks nervously across my lip, my eyes wid.
His thumb drags across my jaw, rough, slow, smearing water across my skin. “Good boy,” he murmurs. “Now let’s see if that mouth’s better for obeying than it is for running.”
I don’t even have time to protest before he’s in my mouth.
Brutal. Unyielding. Forcing me open until my jaw aches, until my throat works helpless around him. The steam fogs, water slams hot against my shoulders, and my nails scrape useless at the tile as he drives in deep.
“Fuck—” The muffled choke tears out of me, spit slick down my chin, water washing it away just to make room for more. His hand drags me against him like I’m nothing but a vessel for his cock.
“Better,” Damian growls above me, hips snapping sharp, relentless. “Much better.”
My eyes water instantly, heat burning down my throat, and Christ—I love it. I hate it. I need it. My whole body trembles under the spray, knees slipping on wet tile as he wrecks me without mercy.
“Good boy,” he rasps, thrusting harder, deeper, until I gag around him. His chest rumbles low, satisfied. “Take it. Take all of me. That’s your real job, isn’t it?”
I moan around him, shameless, tears spilling down my cheeks. My cock jerks against my stomach, leaking under the water. My whole body feels like it’s burning alive.
And then—fuck. My face goes nuclear.
Because I remember—Christ—the showers aren’t empty.
The boys. The whole goddamn team. A wall away. Chirping, laughing, still loud in the locker room.They’re right there.
The sound I make is high and wrecked, cheeks blazing so hot I think the steam’s coming from me. Damian doesn’t care. He leans over me, eyes blazing down through the fog.
“That’s it, pup,” he growls, hips driving hard enough to rattle my teeth. “Choke on it. Let them hear who you belong to.”
I whine, gagging and trembling, spit and water and tears mixing down my face. My whole body’s screaming, but I don’t stop. Can’t. Won’t.
Because even if the team is a wall away—even if Cole’s probably waiting to chirp me into the grave—I’m still here. On my knees. Taking it. Obeying him.
And I’d rather die than disappoint my Captain.
The steam’s choking me, the water’s pounding, my knees ache on slick tile—but none of it matters. Not when his cockis grinding down my throat like punishment and praise tangled into one.
I gag again, tears blurring my vision. My hands slip uselessly against the wall, scrabbling for balance, while his grip in my curls keeps me exactly where he wants me.
“Good boy,” Damian snarls, hips slamming harder. “Look at you—on your knees, choking, claimed.”
