This wasn’t love, it was feral hunger. We tore each other open. A final confession written in skin and spit and everything we couldn’t say out loud.
Theo dropped to his knees like a man possessed. There was no hesitation—no patience—as he yanked my pants and boxers down in one frantic motion. My cock sprang free, flushed and aching, slapping hard against my abs.
He licked his lips, pupils blown wide, devouring me with his eyes like he’d been starving for years and only just now remembered what hunger felt like.
Thick fingers wrapped around my shaft, squeezing just tight enough to make me gasp. A desperate whimper slipped past my lips as the hot tip of his tongue flicked over my slit, collecting precum before dipping into the opening with maddening slowness. He moaned—fucking moaned—as the taste of me exploded across his tongue like it was everything he’d ever wanted.
“Oh—fuck, Theo…” I choked. I didn’t know if I was about to beg him to stop or beg him to swallow me whole.
Then he wrapped his lips around me and devoured me to the base, his throat swallowing around my head like he was trying to drag me inside him.
The vibrations of his moan sent a lightning bolt straight up my spine. My fingers tangled in his hair, yanking him down until his nose was buried in the thick patch of hair at the base of my cock.
“Jesus Christ, baby—just like that. You’re so good. So tight. So fucking hot,” I groaned, my voice cracking under the weight of the overwhelming pleasure. Tears gathered on my lashes, threatening to spill. “That’s it. That’s it. You’re taking it so well. Relax your throat for me. Swallow me down.”
He looked up at me with glassy, tear-bright eyes, his cheeks flushed, throat flexing. He nodded—barely—and it shattered something in me.
I snapped.
I thrust my hips forward, fucking into the wet heat of his throat like I could drown every hurt he ever gave me in the back of his mouth. Like I could purge it out of my body with each brutal flex of my hips.
Drool and precum slicked his chin. Tears streamed down his face. He was a mess. My mess. And he looked up at me like he wanted nothing more.
He was beautiful—ruined, gasping, and offered up like some perfect sacrificial sin.
“I—I’m close,” I ground out. “So fucking close…”
Then his hand came up, rolling my balls between his fingers with practiced cruelty, and I shattered.
Heat coiled through my gut like liquid fire, my cock thickened in his mouth, pulsing as I came hard and fast, spilling deep inside him. He took it. All of it. So much it spilled from the corners of his mouth, dripping down his chin, painting him in me.
“FUCK!” I collapsed back, my elbows digging into cold metal, gasping, trembling—my body sated, but my mind was screaming.
This was wrong. This was so fucking wrong.
I stared down at him, and the sight nearly broke me—Theo, still kneeling, still hard, his zipper straining against his cock, but he didn’t touch it. Didn’t try to get off. Didn’t dare.
“This was a mistake,” I hissed, venom spitting from my tongue before I could leash it.
He froze. His lips parted like he was going to say something, but nothing came out. Just silence. His beautiful mouth was still wet with my release, chest heaving.
God, he looked like something holy—broken and kneeling in reverence. And I hated that it still pulled at something deep in me.
He stayed close after, forehead pressed to my thigh, both of us breathless—his panting ragged, like he was trying to memorize the shape of me with every shallow inhale.
And when I finally looked into his eyes, the clarity there was terrifying. Not peaceful. Not safe. It was ruined. Hollow. Final.Like he’d just lost something he didn’t know how to live without. Like he thought I was the only thing that had ever made sense in his world of chains.
And I couldn’t give it back. I wouldn’t.
I didn’t return the look.
“Don’t follow me,” I whispered, my voice brittle, breaking with every word. My fingers shook as I buttoned my shirt, and pulled up my pants, each motion like cutting myself open again and again. “Not tonight.”
I turned and I walked out.
His silence followed me like a brand on my skin, carving itself between my shoulder blades as I stepped into the night. A bone-deep shudder wracked through me as I followed the path back up to the marquee.
CHAPTER 23
