Harlow Warwick was inside of him.
Harlow Warwick was taking hisvirginity.
Simon dropped his head, his arms shaking. Harlow’s cock was thick, so fuckingthick,but it was what he wanted—what he needed. Blood rushed in Simon’s ears, its pulse erratic. He shifted his hips and lifted his ass a little more, and it was then that he felt it.
Pressure on his prostate, the tantalizing jolt of pleasure that melted all discomfort and redirected Simon’s mind toward pleasure. Having felt it, no dildo would ever be enough again.
“Ohfuck,” Simon breathed. He jerked back against Harlow’s cock, desperate for another taste of that pleasure. “Fuck me.Fuck me.Want your knot. Wanna be your fucking filthy little boy who takes it all night long.” He barely knew what he was saying anymore—the words poured from him as Harlow thrust over and over, gradually picking up the pace until he was slamming Simon into the sink with each inward motion, striking Simon’s prostate each time like he was trying to push the cum out from inside of him. “Wanna be good for you. Wanna be so good. Fuck me hard andforceme to come, then pump it all inside me while my body is spasming around you, milking you. Wanna push your cum so deep inside me it never comes out.”
Harlow sucked in a greedy breath. Bent over the sink like he was, Simon was able to watch Harlow move. His features were tense with arousal, the muscles of his shoulders tight and pronounced, his body glistening with the first hints of sweat. The toned muscles of his stomach hollowed when he thrust into Simon, and Simon could only imagine how beautiful his ass had to look as it strained with every forward push.
“My cum’s not gonna come out,” Harlow rasped. He held Simon’s hips with one hand and reached around with the other to stroke him as he made Simon’s bodyhis.“Gonna fuck it in so deep you won’t need to work to keep it in. Fuck, Kid.Fuck.”
“Come in me,” Simon begged. He worked his ass, thrusting back against Harlow’s dick before rutting into his hand. No matter which direction he moved in, he was fed exquisite pleasure. “Come in me. Come in me.Come in me.”
Harlow moaned, the sound sinful. He moved faster, the sounds of their coupling ringing through the bathroom, desperate and urgent. If Simon didn’t get his knot, he would die.
“You want it, Kid?” Harlow grunted. Each of his breaths was rapid and labored—the end wasn’t far. “You want me to knot you? To fill you to the fucking brim?”
“Come in me,” Simon squeaked. Tension built in his gut, seconds away from boiling over. As soon as he felt the first spurts, as soon as Harlow’s knot stretched him, he was going to come harder than he’d ever come before. “Breedme. Make meyours.”
“Mine,” Harlow echoed. He pushed in deep, thenclaimed.Rapidly expanding pressure pushed Simon open and forced him to take Harlow’s thickening knot, locking Harlow’s cock inside as it came. Warmth rushed through Simon’s insides—Harlow’s load. Hisgift.Fireworks exploded behind Simon’s eyes, and he cried out as he dropped his head, coming as Harlow fucked him against the sink in the short, hard thrusts their locked bodies allowed. All the while, Simon’s passage pulsed around Harlow’s cock, kissing the knot that plugged him. “All mine. Mine, mine,mine.”
Simon’s balls emptied. Harlow’s knot reached its limit. Bound together as Harlow continued to shoot, Simon looked at their reflections in the mirror. He’d expected to find the remnants of lust, greedy and dark, but instead, he found something sweet. Admiration? Devotion? That couldn’t be right, could it? Now that they’d come, they were supposed to find clarity. Simon would realize what a terrible mistake it had been to have seduced his employer, and what an extra-terrible idea it had been to let him take his hole without protection. Harlow was supposed to have come to the same conclusions.
So why was it that Simon felt no regret? That he found himself wanting to do it again? And why was it that the sparkling, affectionate look in Harlow’s eyes didn’t deteriorate or turn to disgust?
Simon slumped against the sink. He breathed in deeply and smiled.
The feeling didn’t wane.
“Yours,” Simon promised, and meant it. “Yours.”
