“Jonah,” Cas whined, digging his heels into Jonah’s ass, trying to spur him to move faster.
“What do you need?” Jonah asked.
Cas’s brain struggled to articulate what he needed, what was happening to him, but all that came out was, “More. Harder.”
Jonah’s nostrils flared at Cas’s words. “You just had your staples removed.”
“You’re missing a chunk of your fucking earlobe,” Cas reminded him, doing his best to fuck himself on Jonah’s cock.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jonah rumbled, voice like gravel.
Cas took Jonah’s hand, placing it back on his throat and squeezing once more. “You didn’t mind hurting me on that massage table. Did you know you made me come? Could you tell you got me off?”
“Jesus, Cas,” Jonah muttered, the steady rhythm of his hips faltering.
“Please, Jonah. Hurt me a little. Please? I need it.”
“You’re fucking killing me,” Jonah growled.
“Then give me what I want,” Cas countered, changing tactics. He bit down on his lip, giving Jonah his best puppy-dog eyes.
Jonah squeezed Cas’s throat. “You think you can bite your lip and I’ll just give in to your demands.”
It wasn’t a question, but Cas’s bravado wavered. “Am I wrong?”
Jonah fisted his hands in Cas’s hair. “No. You’re not wrong. What was it you said to me the other day? I could hold you down? Make you take it? Is that what you want? You want me to make you take my cock?” Cas thought his brain might short-circuit at those words falling from Jonah’s lips. He could only nod. “I want to hear you say it.”
Cas’s mouth went dry, his face on fire as he met Jonah’s gaze. “Fuck me, Jonah. Hurt me. Make me take it.”
Jonah growled. His arms went around Cas, and before he knew what was happening, Jonah was sitting back on his heels, bringing Cas with him. Cas instinctively wrapped his legs around Jonah’s waist, breath punching from his lungs as Jonah’s cock slid impossibly deeper.
“Put your arms around my neck,” Jonah commanded.
It didn’t even occur to Cas not to comply. Jonah’s hands fell to Cas’s ass, spreading him open and lifting him enough to piston his cock in and out a few times. Cas’s gaze snapped to Jonah’s, mouth falling open at the shocky pleasure-pain of this new position. “Oh, fuck.”
“Yeah, is that what you needed?”
Cas couldn’t even talk, just nodded again, dropping his head onto Jonah’s shoulder as Jonah’s hips snapped up, driving into Cas’s body until his brain grew fuzzy.
Jonah’s ear was bleeding, Cas’s side was killing him, and they were both sweating, but none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was the fullness of Jonah inside him, the scent of Jonah surrounding him, and the perfect friction of their bodies on Cas’s cock caught between them.
Suddenly, Cas found himself on his back again, Jonah catching Cas beneath his knees so he could pound into him. Cas couldn’t stop the sounds falling from his lips or the way his hands spasmed in the sheets beneath. Every thrust hit him just right, and every nerve ending caught fire.
“Touch yourself,” Jonah growled. “I want to see what you were doing that night on my floor. Show me.” Cas didn’t even have time to be embarrassed. He wrapped his hand around his aching cock, jerking himself in time with Jonah’s thrusts. “Fuck, that’s it. Stroke yourself for me. You’re so fucking beautiful. Do you think of me when you’re jerking off?”
Did he ever think of anyone but Jonah? No. But he refused to say that. “Yes. Oh, fuck. I’m going to come soon. I’m not going to last.”
“Then stop touching yourself.”
Cas looked up at Jonah, trying to make sure he was serious. As if to prove his point, he knocked Cas’s hand away. “You can come when I say so.”
Jonah pulled out of Cas entirely, only to shove back in with short, shallow strokes that made Cas’s toes curl. “Fuck you, Jonah.”
Jonah slammed his hips home once, then twice, before going back to those short, infuriating thrusts. Cas squirmed beneath him, trying to find a way to force Jonah deeper, but he kept the same frustrating rhythm.
“Jonah. I can’t. I need to come. Please. Please.”
“I love it when you beg.” He clamped a hand around Cas’s throat. “Go ahead.”
