He’ll be damned if he’s the one losing it first. He probes his fingers, wiggling them inside to find that special bundle of nerves.
He knows the moment he hits it, the sharp intake of breath and the full body spasms echoed by juicy curses coming from his boy. And so, Sinn'ous hones in on it, relentlessly milking Izz’s prostate for all its worth.
To continue is appealing, but to plunge his cock inside is something he will not deny himself. He drops Izz’s jaw, snarling an order he doesn’t hear for his boy not to move.
Pants are tugged down just enough to release his erection, and fingers are pulled none-to-gently out. It’s time to take what he wants. And he isn’t in the mood to waste time undressing.
He hefts Izz’s legs up over his shoulders, stretching them wide open. Exposing Izz’s unprotected hole to the cell.
If the way it’s winking open is any indication, his boy wants to be filled. It’s practically begging to have his cock shoved in there for it to suck on.
Fuck, he needs this.
A small packet of lube in his pocket doesn’t stand a chance, he squeezes it in his fist until it pops and expels its slippery innards, which he quickly strokes over his cock. This plastic packet is lost by the time his flared cock head is pressing over Izz’s hole. And fuck, every tremor from the puckered hole has him shuddering.
Blood as lube isn’t practical, dries sticky, and chafes to a displeasing degree. That’s the only reason he lubes his cock. Not for his boy’s pleasure.
To prove this point he drops his weight to forcibly enter the still constrictingly tight hole. And Satan help him, he almost screams at the full body tingle racing through every muscle. It’s a fire ball ignited under his skin, eating away at his insides, until all that’s left is the cock joining their bodies.
“Breathe. You’re doing well,” Sinn'ous discovers himself saying, and it’s beyond his rational mind why.
He doesn’t let up, until his entire length is buried to the hilt. Constricted by a searing heat to rival his own. Magma singeing his flesh, to the point of no return. Unable to pull out, he has to take this to the next level. But in order to get what he wants minus any protesting, he’ll have to work some manipulation.
“I’m going to try something,” Sinn'ous resettles his weight into his legs, the mattresses dipping to the change of position, “I want you to hold out as long as possible, and longer. Whenyou feel like your vision is slipping, tap my leg three times. You understand? Three times.”
The distant expression on his boy’s face is answer, even without the nod. The change in angle has his cock sinking impossibly deeper. And fuck is it a otherworldly feeling. Coupled by his hands curling around his boy’s throat. He squeezes, pushing down into the grip to choke off any protests. Every trace of oxygen constricted from reaching lungs that heave, he can feel it in the body trapped under him. The instinctual fight for air. It’s intoxicating to deprive it.
“Relax,” Sinn'ous orders, though he isn’t displeased by the struggles. “You can hold out. I know you can hold out,” his hands squeeze tighter, every ounce of concentration fixated on his prey.
That delicious panic building behind doe-eyes. He wants to bite into the tangible fear. It hits places deep inside Sinn'ous that he’s compelled to feed.
His hips move of their own accord. Pressing in alongside his entire body, his skin flush to his prey. Hisboy.Heat consumes him. Sensations consume him. Their bodies rocking together in the push and pull of Sinn'ous’s hips snapping forward. He drives his cock to the hilt on every thrust. Their skin slapping, echoing around the small cell. Drowned out by the noises of the overly full prison.
Every cry from his boy spurs him on, driving him wild. The noises he makes are animalistic, growls overpowering the pained, needy whimpers of his boy. The hard cock squished between their bodies is indication enough to Izz’s arousal at being used as Sinn'ous’s personal cock sleeve.
Not stopping, he ignores the hand pushing against his chest in favour of pistoning his cock into the tight heat. Every drag back has him shaking in the need to cum, and the need to hold off for as long as he can.
The way his boy’s face changes colour. The deepening of red flushing his cheeks. Has him on the edge of his own orgasm. He wants to see those eyes roll in his skull, wants to feel the body slacken as he’s buried to his balls and cumming deep in his bowels.
The cock trapped between them twitches, and heat coats both their stomach’s, and chests. It doesn’t stop Sinn'ous from his thrusting. It drives him on, the knowledge that his boy has cum while violently being deprived of oxygen.
He’s so lost in this thought that he almost ignores the pounding to his thigh. His boy’s weak hits thudding over and over against him. Because the tight constriction sucking his cock in is too good to lose.
Reluctantly he releases his hands. And the gasping choking sounds his boys sputters out are almost worth it. Almost.
More. Take more. His inner voice demands. And he is a slave to its desires.
Leaning in, his lips close over his boy’s shoulder, and his teeth sink in, immediately flooding his mouth in warmth. Blood coats his tongue and slips down the back of his throat. His hips don’t stop their relentless pounding. He will take everything from his boy.
Everything.
His rhythm falters, thrusts sputtering out into uncontrolled jerking on the cusp of orgasm.
“I want you to cum inside me,” Izz grits out between each unsteady penetration.
Sinn'ous was going to do just that anyway. But to have his boy’s pleasing voice beg for it. Shit, it does something to him. Something primal.
He shoves in one last time, deeper than ever. And his cock kicks inside Izz as he growls, cumming deep within his boy’s tight confines. Marking Izz as his own.
