The possessiveness in the words wasn’t sharp—it was grounding. I felt it settle into him by the way he relaxed, the way his body opened more, trusting me to hold the reins. I fucked him deeper, letting my hips snap just a little harder now and then, enough to make him moan, enough to remind him how thoroughly he was being taken.
I shifted again, pulling him onto his knees, chest pressed down to the mattress, ass high. I slid back in from behind, hands firm on his hips, guiding him back onto me. This time, I set a slow, relentless rhythm, driving in deep and holding there before pulling back again.
“Look at you,” I murmured, reverent and filthy all at once. “Taking me like this. Letting me fuck you however I want.”
He pushed back, needy and eager. “I want it. I want all of it.”
I bent over him, chest to his back, one arm wrapping around his torso to keep him grounded while I fucked him deeper, harder, my other hand lacing our fingers together in the sheets. It wasn’t about breaking him now—it was about holding him right where he was, stretched and open and completely mine.
“You’re doing so good,” I told him, sweet and steady. “You feel incredible. I love the way you give yourself to me.”
I kept moving inside him, slower now but just as deep, chasing every last ounce of heat I could find. My hand stayed laced with his in the sheets, the other holding him steady as I thrust. Michael pushed back into every stroke, body opening for me, trusting me to take him, to keep him, to fill him the way he needed.
“You’re perfect,” I murmured into his skin, hips starting to stutter. “So fucking perfect, Michael. I’m close—gonna fill you up again, want you leaking with me.”
He shivered, arching his back, taking me deeper, squeezing around my cock. “Do it,” he begged, voice rough, wrecked. “Want to feel you inside. Want to carry it for days.”
That was all it took. I snapped my hips one last time, burying myself to the hilt, cock throbbing as I spilled deep inside him, making sure every drop was claimed. I gasped his name, forehead pressed between his shoulder blades, staying there, letting the waves of release roll through me.
We stilled, breath ragged, sweat pooling between us. I reached down and stroked his cock gently, milking out every last shudder, loving the way he trembled for me.
But I wasn’t finished.
I eased out slowly, savoring the slick, the way my cum started to drip from his hole, thick and hot. I knelt behind him, spreading his cheeks wide, staring in awe at the mess I’d made—at the proof that he was mine.
“Stay just like that,” I whispered, voice thick with hunger.
I bent in and licked him, slow and filthy, dragging my tongue over his hole, tasting myself, tasting him. I sucked at the rim, groaning as the mix of cum and sweat coated my tongue. I lapped at every drop, worshipping him, savoring the way he moaned, the way his whole body shook from the aftershocks.
“You taste like us,” I breathed, licking him open again, tongue pushing inside to get every last trace. “You taste like you belong to me.”
He whimpered, legs shaking, hips rocking back, desperate for more even now.
I sat up, cock still hard, cum-slick and aching for another round. I reached for the lube, slicking myself up again, then looked at Michael—beautiful, spent, but eyes still burning.
“My turn,” I said, voice a promise and a plea.
He rolled onto his back, pulling me over him, strong hands guiding me to straddle his hips. I slicked him up, strokinghim, making sure he was wet and ready, then lined myself up, pressing down slow, savoring the stretch as I took him inside.
He gripped my hips, helping me sink onto him, both of us gasping at the sudden heat. I rode him, rolling my hips, fucking myself down on his cock, feeling every inch, loving the way he filled me, the way he looked at me—awed and wild and completely undone.
“Use me,” I whispered, breath hot against his mouth. “Want you to fuck me, Michael. Want you to fill me up. Want to be yours.”
He groaned, thrusting up into me, hands roaming over my thighs, my chest, my pits, everywhere he could reach. I rode him harder, faster, letting the lube make it slick, messy, perfect. Sweat and cum mixed between us, bodies tangled and desperate, heat building all over again.
Michael’s grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my skin, grounding me as I moved over him. I rocked harder, chasing every deep thrust, gasping when he started to meet me—driving up into me, letting his strength show.
He was relentless now, sweat slick between us, hands running up my chest to tweak my nipples, his mouth dragging at my jaw, my throat, biting marks that would linger. I ground down, pushing him deeper, moaning as his cock rubbed that spot inside me that made my vision spark white.
“That’s it,” he growled, voice gone rough and wild, every bit the man I’d wanted for so long. “Take it, Daniel. You look so fucking good like this, riding me, opening up for me. You were made for this—made to get bred, filled, used.”
I couldn’t do anything but moan, chasing every thrust, feeling his cock stretch me, open me, owning me in every way I’d ever craved. I braced my hands on his chest, rolling my hips, feeling the slick, sticky mess building between us. I wanted him everywhere—I wanted to be ruined.
“More,” I begged, voice breaking, “Harder. Give me everything. I want to feel you for days.”
Michael answered with his body—thrusting up hard, almost lifting me off the bed, his hands guiding, controlling, urging me to take every inch. He pushed up, pinning me in place with nothing but brute strength and need, sweat dripping from his brow, teeth bared as he fucked me from below.
“You’re mine,” he groaned, hips snapping up, cock slamming in deep. “Mine to fill, mine to mark. I want to see my cum dripping out of you, want to know you’ll feel me inside you every time you sit down tomorrow.”
