“It’spierced!” he whisper-hissed, unable to withhold the hint of accusation from his tone.
“It’s called a magic cross,” Sila told him, and Bay got the distinct feeling he was laughing at him from wherever he was lurking. “Now, watch the movie like a good boy. Your food is getting cold and you’re wasting both of our time.”
“I’m older than you,” he grumbled. Bay shook his head frantically even though a small part of him was curious. All of that had been inside him…
“Do it,” the warning was delivered in a growl that had Bay’s spine snapping straight, “Now.”
Inhaling, he lowered the phone, eyes widening to find the scene that had kept going had changed. There was no glimpse of the four metal balls that decorated the flushed head of Sila’s dick, because said appendage was currently buried so deeply in Bay’s ass, all he could see was the stretch of his hole forced around the thick root of that shaft.
In the video, Sila pulled out and, though it’d been filmed with night vision mode and therefore there weren’t colors other than shades of green, the way his cock glistened made it obvious Sila hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d been slicked with Bay’s come and blood.
He must have used Bay’s release to coat himself before entering, even though that had provided very little relief for Bay. Still, seeing it now, watching the way Sila worked himself back in, he had to admit even a little lubrication was better than none at all.
“Eat,” Sila ordered.
Almost robotically, Bay lifted a dumpling to his mouth and chewed, his eyes glued on the screen. The sounds of his own sobbing filled his ears, coupled with Sila’s low growls and heavy panting. He sucked in a sharp breath when the angle of the video changed again.
Sila lowered himself overtop Bay, pinning him to the dirt, and brought the camera around to where their heads rested. Bay had his face pressed against the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks, but Sila was grinning from ear to ear, his head hovering just over Bay’s shoulder. The camera captured the rise and fall of his ass as he ruthlessly continued fucking into the man beneath him.
It was aggressive and primal and wrong. There was no mistaking what was taking place in the video. No mistaking that Bay was being forced to take Sila’s body into his own, whether he wanted to or not.
Experiencing it had been one thing, but through the shock, pain, and then euphoria, much of it had been blacked out in his mind. The sensations were all there, but the exact events, the way he’d begged and clawed at the dirt…those details were muddied. Watching them, seeing how unapologetically brutal Sila had been with him that night…
“I’ve never made the mistake of filming my face before,” Sila confessed and, if the husky note in his voice was any indicator, he was just as turned on as Bay was.
And hewas.
Knowing that was his blood smeared all over Sila’s cock, that the guy had used it as lube and screwed him raw until he was completely and utterly destroyed…It should make him queasy. He should feel abused, taken advantage of, and disgusted.
But he wasn’t. Instead, Bay’s dick pressed painfully against the seam of his dress pants, hard enough the button threatened to pop at any given second. There was already a wet spot forming, the dark material only somewhat hiding that fact.
“What is wrong with me?” he breathed out, the words meant for himself.
“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Sila answered anyway. “You’re a masochist. Surely you knew before?”
He’d had some notion. Regular people didn’t watch the types of porn Bay did, after all. But he’d never realized it ran to this extent. He understood the mind was far too complex for anyone to ever be able to fully pick it apart or label it, and that there were no indicators in his childhood to provide clarity over why he may get off on this type of thing.
Bay might just be built this way.
Just how Sila was built the way that he was.
Sila continued to stare back at him from the scene, his teeth white and harsh, his expression wolfish. Then Bay made a strangled sound from beneath him and suddenly Sila was dropping the camera. The noises continued even though all Bay could see now was black. He listened intently as he orgasmed, then held his breath at the sounds of Sila chasing after his own release.
The clip ended and restarted before he did and Bay blinked when his ass filled the screen once more, that damn handprint seemingly leering at him.
“It’ll keep playing until—” Sila abruptly stopped talking when Bay slammed the multi-slate down and reached for the bowl with both hands.
He practically inhaled the remaining four dumplings, only chewing them enough to get them down before he chased them with the remaining water. He was about to stand when the clicking of a tongue gave him pause.
For a moment, Bay didn’t understand, brow furrowing as frustration built up at the center of his chest. He was so hard, he wanted to move on to the part where Sila came out from wherever he was watching anddidsomething.
Then he recalled the exact wording and after a quick glance from beneath his lashes to see if anyone was paying attention—they weren’t—he lifted the bowl a second time and stroked his tongue against the porcelain. He lapped at it until he was certain there wasn’t a single drop of broth left and then he set it back down.
His cheeks were flaming red from embarrassment when he caught the eyes of a girl sitting at the table diagonal from his, but her laughter at his antics seemed in good nature, and she lifted her shot glass in a salute before downing the alcoholic contents. With any luck, she’d be too drunk to tell her friends about this come morning.
“That’s better,” Sila sounded pleased. “I already paid the bill.”
“Where are you?”
