His hand fists tight in my curls again, yanking my head back until my throat’s bared, my body stretched tight under him. His mouth hovers over the pulse in my neck, teeth grazing.
“Good.”
I shudder, bound and helpless, cock already hard again, and I know—I’m not making it out of this bed alive.
God, he’s beautiful.
A feral little thing—reckless, untrained, but open in a way that makes my chest tight. He hasn’t stopped giving me everything since the moment I pinned him to the wall. Every yes, sir has been instinct. Automatic. Like his bones know I own him.
And now, tied and trembling, he looks wrecked enough to break—and desperate enough to burn alive for me.
So I don’t give him what he wants.
Not yet.
I sit back on my heels between his legs, watching him. My cock is hard, aching, but I wrap my hand around it slow, deliberate, dragging the first stroke up my length with a low groan.
Elias’s breath hitches sharp. His gaze locks onto me, pupils blown wide. He jerks against the sheets, wrists straining, but the knots hold.
“Sir—” his voice cracks, high and desperate, “please, please don’t—”
I smirk. “What? Don’t make you watch me?” My fist twists, knuckles tight around the head, precum slicking down my hand. I drag the sound out, let it echo through the room. “Don’t make you see what you’re begging for?”
His hips snap up off the bed uselessly, cock straining in the air, untouched.
“Fuck—fuck—” His eyes flick helplessly from my shaft to my face, back again, like he doesn’t know where to land. “Don’t do this, don’t—just fuck me, please, I’ll do anything—”
My fist pumps faster. My jaw clenches, a groan ripping from deep inside me as I lean back, showing him every inch of what he’s not getting. My gaze pins him where he writhes, watching him fall apart just from looking.
“You look so fucking pretty like this,” I rasp, hand slick on my cock. “Tied up, begging, watching me touch myself while you can’t. You don’t even know how ruined you are, do you, pup?”
Elias whines. High, desperate, obscene. “Captain—I can’t—I need it—I need you—I’m begging—fuck, I’m begging so bad—”
God. He doesn’t even know how good he is at it. Doesn’t know how perfect he looks with his wrists tied and his voice broken.
I slow my hand, dragging the strokes out, cruel and steady, every drop of precum gleaming in the candlelight. His pupils are blown, locked on me, throat working around the sound he’s trying to swallow.
“Say it,” I growl. “Say exactly what you want.”
He thrashes again, wrists tearing at the sheets. His face burns red, curls sticking to his forehead, but he still gives it to me.
“Fuck me, Captain. Wreck me. Make me yours.”
My cock pulses hard in my fist, a groan tearing out of me as I watch him beg. My jaw ticks, every nerve wired with restraint I’m not sure I can hold much longer.
God, he’s beautiful when he begs.
I let my fist slide off, slick with precum, and lean forward until the head brushes his hole. Just barely.
Elias gasps, body jolting like I shocked him. His wrists yank against the sheets, legs spread wider, every muscle pulled tight with need. His eyes are wild, burning, pleading.
“Sir—” His voice is cracked, hoarse. “Please—just—”
I push in. Slow. Just the tip, stretching him open enough to make his mouth drop, a desperate sobs spilling out.
And then I pull out.
His back arches off the mattress. “No—no, fuck—”
