No. He doesn’t lie. He’s the only one in here I wholeheartedly trust.Even over Reni, Zidie, and Blake.
He tries to voice this, but it comes out gurgled and in no way intelligible.
Over and over, he takes a cock down his throat, feeling every constricting spasm of his muscles trying to fight against it. And when he’s right on the edge of a lightheaded nightmare, Sin’s hips retreat and his cock follows, giving his throat enough of a break to suck in another gasped breath.
He’s breathless, he’s hot all over, and he’s still taking Sin’s cock. While his vision swims, throat struggling to accommodate the size, his mouth remains open for Sin’s use.
Sin’s death grip in his hair is unrelenting and is used to pull him down, cock slamming all the way in. He feels it pulse in his throat, and knows Sin is cumming inside him. Emptying his balls down his throat. He tries his best to swallow while fighting off his gag reflex, the wet noises he makes are strong in his ears, alongside Sin’s drawn-out moan.
When he tries to sit back Sin’s fingers dig into his hair, pinning him on his thick cock still rammed all the way inside. Cutting off all his oxygen.
His movements are becoming sloppy, his head light enough to float away. On the cusp of his vision turning black—the shadows creeping in—he flicks them up to Sin in an attempt at pleading. What he finds is a glint in Sin’s fiery black irises that has dread coiling inside his stomach, and a grin that is absolutely predatory.
All he can think of is the conversation they’d had . . .
He wouldn’t . . .
He won’t.
He promised . . .
Sin promised he wouldn’t do this unless Izz agreed to it. But the more Izz tries to pull back and fails, the more he panics that Sin’s going to hold him here permanently.
That worry only intensifies when black snakes closer and closer to taking over, his eyesight fading into the fog. His lungs are long past screaming and into a realm of fire he can’t put out.
Right when he’s sure the blackness of unconsciousness is going to reach into his soul and claim him, the pressure is gone and air rushes back in.
He chokes and wheezes, falling back on his ass, jostling his shoulders at the angle the cuffs force them into. For a moment there he hadn’t thought Sin was going to stop.
“Gorgeous,” Sin murmurs, scooping Izz off the floor. Where he finds himself being cradled in Sin’s lap, legs spread over his thick thighs. Soft stroking fingers moving over his jaw and petting down his neck. “You did so well for me. Such a good boy.”
The praise shouldn’t do anything, it shouldn’t erase what Sin just did. But . . . it might just be working to lower his walls. It has him burying his face into Sin’s neck, where he can feel himself relaxing further.
I trust him.
Sin stopped, he didn’t take it too far.
I trust him.
Sin’s hand grabs Izz’s chin, pinching lightly and holding eye contact. “I’m always in control. You belong to me, and nothing bad will happen to you.” And then Sin calls him out for his reactions, “and you’re hard, you liked what I did to you.”
His breath sucks in, and as soon as Sin relinquishes the grip on his face, he is peering down at his own body. And his dick that is very much hard and straining.
I liked it?
Did he like it? His body sure seems to think he did.
A thumb rubs over his cheek, bringing his mind out of his swirling thoughts. “You won’t lose consciousness until you allow me to do so with you. I pushed you to the edge to show youyoucan trust in that fact.”
He did this to show me it’s not something to fear. It’s the same thing he did when he cut me that first time.
And in the end, he had liked it—being cut. His body had reacted to it positively, like it is now. But . . .
Izz lets himself nod, just a little, and because he’s still hesitant he says, “I’m not ready yet.”
Not just yet.
He’s sure it will be something he embraces the same as everything else when it comes to Sin.
