Eyes glassy, throat full, tears cutting hot down his cheeks. Drowning and thriving in the same breath.
“You belong to me,” I growl, the tip hitting the back of his throat again, harder. “Every inch of you. Every sound. Every breath.”
He moans around me, loud, broken, the vibration sending fire ripping up my spine. My grip tightens in his hair, dragging his head back so he can look up at me while I fuck his mouth raw.
“My good fucking boy,” I rasp through clenched teeth, hips snapping forward.
His voice is so wrecked I almost lose it.
I keep him there—on his knees, throat stuffed full of me, curls tangled in my fist, tears slicking his flushed face. Every gag rattles down my spine like lightning. Every whimper vibrates through me until I’m biting back a snarl.
But I don’t let him finish me. Not yet.
I yank him back just enough that my length drags wetly from his throat, spit snapping in strings between us. He gasps, broken, lips swollen and raw.
“Touch yourself.”
I tighten my grip, tilt his head back until his throat is bared, until his mouth stays open and trembling around the head of me. “Now. Or I’ll stop.”
A desperate sound claws out of him, high and feral. His hand scrambles down, fumbles between his thighs, finds himself. The second his palm wraps around his length, he whines. Loud. Sharp. Shameless.
I shove back into his mouth.
He keens, gagging, hips bucking forward against his fist. He’s choking and stroking at once, gagging around me while his own hand pumps like he can’t choose which is killing him faster. Drool runs down his chin, slicking my shaft, soaking his chest. His thighs tremble, muscles jerking, everything in him unraveling.
“That’s it, pup,” I growl, dragging him off and slamming back down. “Be good for me. Show me what you look like when you ruin yourself for your captain.”
His curls stick to his wet cheeks, his fist is a blur between his thighs. I don’t let him breathe more than a second at a time. In. Out. Back down his throat. Gag. Choke. Stroke.
He’s wrecked. Absolutely destroyed. And I don’t stop.
“Don’t you fucking come until I tell you.” He tries to nod around me. Fails. Chokes. Cries harder. His hand trembles but doesn’t stop, his cock flushed red, dripping into his palm. He’s so close I can feel it—the way his whole body is wound like a wire, vibrating against my thighs, imploring with every motion.
I drag him off, fist tight in his hair, spit and precome painting his chin. His chest heaves, lips raw, tears cutting streaks down his ravaged face.
“Beg for it.”
“Please, sir—I can’t—I need you—let me—”
I shove back into his throat, cut him off with a brutal thrust. “Come, pup. Show me how much of a mess you can make choking on me.”
And he does.
His scream is muffled, swallowed around my thickness as his entire body seizes. Hot, desperate spurts coat his own stomach, his fist, dripping onto the carpet. He’s choking, gagging, with it, his throat convulsing around me while his orgasm tears through him like a violent storm.
I hold him there until he’s shaking, until he can’t breathe, until his orgasm wrings him dry. Then I drag him back at last—spit and come everywhere, his mouth hanging open.
My good little pup.
His eyes are red, his cheeks streaked, spit stringing off his chin, and still he’s staring up at me like he’s starving for more.
I fist my hand in his curls tighter, force his head back, and mutter down at him. “Open.”
He does. Instantly. Mouth stretched wide, lips trembling, tongue shining wet under the low light. Waiting for me like it’s prayer.
I don’t ease him into it. I slam forward, burying myself to the root in one hard thrust. His throat convulses, gagging hard, his nails clawing at my thighs. His whole body jerks, broken sobs rattling out of him as his lips seal tight around me.
“Take it. You’re gonna take every fucking drop, pup.”
