They both knew the inevitable was coming.
“I’m there,” he hissed, as that hot, wet, wave of cum erupted out of him, and coated the back of his throat.
Graham swallowed, trying to get it all down, but some just leaked out of his mouth and down his chin.
The whole time, D’Artangnan was standing there, his head back, as his body went lax from that well-needed orgasm.
He floated in the pleasure, but when he was able to surface, he was able to focus again.
“Oh, you’re not cumming again,” he said, moving quickly to flip the man back over, and pick up the belt that had been with his fatigues on the floor.
Graham whimpered.
“Please use it on me,” he begged.
Only, D’Artangnan had other plans.
Instead, he made the leather crack, and that sent chills across Graham’s body.
The precum on the tip of his dick told the tale.
Someone was really aroused.
That was how he liked him.
“Now, I have to punish you, my bottom,” he said, grabbing both of his ankles, and pushing them toward the headboard where his hands were locked.
Graham moaned.
Oh, God.
This was going to be brutal.
As his master locked his one ankle to the headboard with the belt, he held the other there since he didn’t have a binding.
“Now, I’m going to enjoy your ass,” he admitted, teasing him with the head of his dick.
“Please,” he begged, needing to be filled by this man in order to feel whole.
In order to pay his penance.
In order to…remember.
With his dick still hard, he pushed into the man’s body, only after spitting on his tight, puckered asshole. When he filled him, Graham whimpered in pleasure.
In pain.
In joy.
In memory.
Being taken by his Marine was always a good time, and what he wanted now was for it to be memorable.
As in he could relive this over and over as he was trapped in Purgatory.
Between living and dead.
Between feeling and being numb.
