56
SINN'OUS
“Close your eyes. Let yourself feel it. Don’t over think,” Sin instructs, hovering over his boy. Sprawled out naked below him, he is a picture of need. Eyes closed, body trembling as mind fights body to do what Sinn'ous commands. Ass up, arms tucked under the pillow his head rests on, and vulnerable to whatever Sinn'ous chooses to do first.
Starting small, he strokes up and down Izz’s thighs. Massaging the muscles in a languid rhythm. Digging the pads of his fingers into the coils of tight muscle.
And once he feels the shift under him, the tension seeping away, he makes the first cut. A delicate move of blade through skin. No lingering, just in and out. While his lips work over Izz’s neck, kissing, sucking, biting. All a distraction to placate his boy.
It works to open Izz further, and his soft moans vibrate the air. Adding to the rustle of sheets when his muscles contract, then release.
His boy is a picture.
The next slash is sluggish, dragging over the thigh before sinking into skin. Then both his hands are moving to knead Izz’s ass, the plump globes slotting into his palms. Razor pinched between his fingers in a way that keeps it from accidentally cutting, while being on hand for when he needs it next. He grazes his teeth over a shoulder that’s warm on his tongue and pliant under his teeth.
Then he eases back to inspect the last cut. Blood wells from the wound, slipping down his boy’s thigh to be caught bySinn'ous’s fingers. He rubs his thumb over the bright red blood, coating it all down his index and middle finger, slicking his skin.
It’s all the lube he gives, pushing his finger inside the tight ring of muscle of his boy’s anus. Sinking it deep inside, working it into the hot heat, wiggling it over the sensitive walls. Searching for that one spot of bundled nerves.
His boy arches off the bunk, breath catching on a curse and sharp exhale.
Naturally Sinn'ous hones in on that place, driving his finger into the nub over and over again.
“Your body responds deliciously to me,” Sinn'ous practically purrs.
He rotates the razor through his fingers, lining it up to the next spot, and cuts in, being sure to work Izz’s prostate at the same time.
His boy is begging now, a small,“please,” leaving his lips. And a whimpered, “it hurts,” followed by him shoving his ass back to chase Sinn'ous’s finger.
He obliges the nonsensical pleads, and pushes a second finger inside. “Do you want me to stop . . .” his voice holds an amused undertone to it.
“N-no. Please.”
So eager to please.
“Didn’t think so,” Sinn'ous removes his fingers, lining his cock up with Izz’s entrance. He’d slicked his cock before he woke his boy, knowing once he started he wasn’t going to stop to do it. And while he wants to cut him and inflict pain. Not in this way. Never in this way. Anal fissures are not something he wants to mess around with. Especially not in here where medical treatment is dismal at best. An infection of that kind could prove deadly. And Izz’s not allowed to die via infection. The only death he can have is via Sinn'ous’s own hands.
Rolling his hips slowly, he penetrates in the same sluggish way he’s been playing with his boy. No hurry to finish. Just touch and sensations to drag this out for as long as he can.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. He angles his hips to drag over Izz’s prostate, driving his boy into a whimpering mess of overstimulation.
It’s good to be this in control. To have someone falling apart under you. The power in it. It’s everything.
And the tight heat constricting his cock. That’s everything too. The velvety suction quivering over him. It takes everything in him not to cum. But by Satan does he want to.
The bare feel of skin on skin. It’s hypnotic. He feels like he’s meditating out of his body. If he was a sub he’d say this is subspace. But he’s a dom. And fucked if he knows if a dom can have domspace. Is that a thing?
Shit. Maybe it is.
Or maybe his boy’s ass is just so good he’s having an out of body experience.
“I’m going to cum—” his boy barely has the words gasped out, ass tightening around Sinn'ous’s cock. Muscles spasming and contracting to the rhythm of an orgasm that nearly has Sinn'ous crashing over the edge right along with him.
Each pulse of his boy’s ass is rewarded by a cut to his body. Slicing into his skin to draw rivulets of crimson over flushed skin.
More and more, he cuts. His cock still thrusting in and out of Izz’s body.
“Please—” Izz begs, and Sinn'ous immediately shushes him.
