Mal breathed hard on Clayton’s dick, not touching it but leaving a tingling sense of essence behind that made Clayton’s need to come skyrocket.
When nothing happened, he whined loudly and then stopped himself. What if someone came in right now? What if they saw Clayton being humiliated by some asshole monster he’d done nothing but complain about for the past six weeks?
Oh gods… just the thought had him ready to burst, and when Mal pressed his face against Clayton’s leg and allowed him to feel the sharp, needle-point teeth against his skin, Clayton knew he was going to come, and that was embarrassingly fast even for him.
But he didn’t. He was just left there at the edge, mind growing more stupid and desperate as Mal nipped and licked his way up Clayton’s thigh, wanting to come, fighting futilely to get his hands free so he could touch himself, but knowing deep down that even if he was able to get free, Mal had done something to Clayton to keep him mind shatteringly aroused but unable to come.
It was like Mal had reached deep inside Clayton and pulled out his deepest desires and his greatest fear. That someone would find out what he wanted and then give it to him.
Clayton knew he didn’t deserve to be treated this way, but oh, how he wanted it. Late at night, when no one could see, he would look at the raunchiest, most degrading porn he could find and jerk himself shamefully until having the most mind-shattering orgasm he could achieve.
He knew he could never have it in real life. Not with the type of respectable job and life he had. He couldn’t let someone do such things to him.
Except right now, Mal was doing it, and Clayton had never wanted to come more in his life.
“Please, please, please…” Clayton was sobbing now, not even sure what he was begging for, release or permanent denial.
Mal stared up at him, eyes glowing brightly, and dug his teeth deeply into Clayton’s inner thigh. He ran his hands up and down Clayton’s legs, making appreciative sounds as if he was greedily feeding after being starved for too long. Clayton saw stars, and his denied orgasm was so close he felt like he was having dozens of mini-ones even though nothing was coming out of his dick. It was somehow worse and better than the orgasms he was able to give himself alone and shamefully in the dark.
Clayton was floating, caught in the in-between place of release and denial, and he barely noticed when Mal tore his teeth roughly from Clayton’s leg and licked blood off his lips. The pain was beautiful and perfect and made Clayton cry.
Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he smelled blood as Mal lapped at them. When Mal plundered his mouth, the ecstasy and agony reached a crescendo. Mal pulled away, and Clayton realized Mal was jerking himself off, spilling anenormous amount of cum onto Clayton’s straining, neglected cock.
Clayton panted as Mal growled and panted his way through what seemed to be an amazing orgasm. Humiliation rolled through Clayton when he realized that Mal had no intention of letting Clayton come as well. He whimpered softly and moaned as he grew so aroused that he thought he would pass out.
Mal watched his face in satisfaction for a long moment before holding out both hands and lowering them bit by bit. As they lowered, Clayton’s tension lessened, and he drifted back from the edge.
Painstakingly, glacially, Clayton came down from the pain, humiliation, and ecstasy. His cock softened, but it felt raw and sensitive even though nothing had touched it. Fuck, why did he like that so much?
As the lust fog faded, Clayton’s mind came back online, and he realized what he’d just done. Whatthey’djust done.
“How…” Clayton croaked through a dry throat. “How did you know?”
Mal fetched him a glass of water and handed it to him. “It’s what I do.”
Clayton gave him a pained laugh. “You come uninvited to people’s homes, drag out their darkest fantasies, and help them play them out in their kitchen?”
“No. That’s new,” Mal admitted. He held out a hand over the mess he’d made on Clayton’s dick, and the air shimmered as he cleaned him. Clayton didn’t feel a thing. Mal hadn’t touched Clayton’s dick once during the entire scene, and he’d never felt more alive. What the actual fuck?
“It was fun, though. I’ll be happy to do it again any time you want.” Mal gave Clayton an infuriating grin.
“Why would I want to do that again? You didn’t ask for my permission, and you didn’t even have the decency toreciprocate,” Clayton huffed and folded his arms across his chest.
Mal leaned in close and growled in his ear. “You didn’t want me to.”
Clayton blushed, and his breath grew shallow. Why was his heart fluttering? This was outrageous. This was unbearable. This was… so humiliating.
Bloody hell, he was getting hard again.
Clayton wrapped his robe around himself, hopped off the counter, and gave Mal a shove. “Out, out, get out of my house!”
Mal stayed put and gave a rich chuckle that touched something deep inside Clayton. “Are you sure that’s what you really want?”
He grabbed Clayton by the hips, and Clayton felt magic tingle throughout his body as Mal flooded him with his essence. All of Clayton’s aches, pains, and injuries faded away as Mal healed them. All save one. The final bite Mal had given to his thigh was still there, and now that it didn’t have competition for Clayton’s attention, it was front, center, and unignorable.
So fucking hot.
“I hate you,” Clayton hissed before shoving through the door to the kitchen and storming out.
