Scott closed his eyes very tightly as the knowledge of how quickly he was going to lose it all almost made him miss out on enjoying what little time he had left. He clawed at Joe’s shoulder with his free hand. In some far off place, fabric ripped, but it was hard to care about that while Joe was stroking their cocks even faster.
Coming too soon would ruin everything. Scott pressed his head painfully back against the floor in an effort to take his mind off his helpless need to come. It was no good. Scott squirmed, unsure if Joe would be more angry with him for pulling away, or for giving in to the pure perfection that tempted him to orgasm without permission.
Joe gasped into the kiss. He thrust down against Scott. Semen landed against Scott’s skin, a droplet hit the head of his cock. Restraint became impossible. Scott came, just a moment after Joe.
Adrenaline rushed through him like a tidal wave. He clung on to Joe’s shoulder even tighter, as if Joe might somehow be able to keep him afloat through the tsunami. Scott moaned, gasping for breath, as his lungs cried out for air, but pleasure continued to cascade through him and there was no escape.
Finally, he collapsed back against the floor, completely spent, unable to move a single muscle, as the tide receded. Just one part of him remained tensed—his right hand still gripped Joe’s shoulder as if his life depended upon it. Scott was as incapable of unfurling his fingers as he was of doing anything else.
Joe was so much stronger than him; he was so much better a man than Scott could ever hope to be. Scott already knew that, but Joe proved it again when he recovered the ability to control his limbs long before Scott could even open his eyes.
Joe didn’t release his grip on Scott’s wrist, but he rolled off him and made it easier for Scott to breathe. Joe took his hand away from their cocks. Scott closed his eyes tighter, sure Joe’s next movement would involve standing up and leaving him collapsed on the floor forever.
Something moved against Scott’s stomach. He frowned, unable to immediately recognise what it was or what it might mean for his remaining time with Joe.
Fingers. A hand pressing against him. Circles. Cum?
“S-sir?” Scott managed to whisper.
“What?” Joe sounded completely composed and in control of his voice.
It was all Scott could do to make his words vaguely audible. “Are you r-rubbing your c-cum into me?” he rasped out.
“Yes.”
“Why?” Scott finally asked, when it became obvious that no further information would be forthcoming unless he anted up and requested it.
“Why not?”
It was a childish question, but it was also one that Scott found difficult to answer.Because I’m not going to belong to you once this scene ends.There was no way he’d ever be able to say those words out loud.
Scott swallowed. Conscious that he was probably wasting a very beautiful sight, he forced his eyes open. For several seconds, his vision remained hazy. When Scott finally focused, his eyes fell upon Joe’s forearm.
Scott dragged his gaze up. He reached the edge of Joe’s T-shirt sleeve. The fabric was black, just like almost every item Joe seemed to own. It was also torn.
Scott jerked and tried to sit up, only to stop short when Joe completely failed to release his wrist. Unable to become double-jointed at a whim, Scott halted just short of dislocating his shoulder and collapsed back against the floor.
Joe tightened his grip on Scott’s wrist. “What the hell do you think you—?”
“S-sir, your arm!” Scott cut in.
Joe frowned, but Scott couldn’t focus on Joe’s expression for long. His attention was drawn inexorably back to Joe’s shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Scott saw Joe turn his head to inspect the area for himself.
Four long scratches broke the skin, travelling from his shoulder to the top of his arm. Joe was bleeding.
Scott had done that to him. He looked down at the nails on his right hand. There was blood beneath them. He’d done that to his master.
Scott’s head spun. All the air seemed to race out of the room.
“Whoa there!”
Joe’s grip on Scott’s wrist disappeared. He’d let him go. Scott couldn’t blame him. What kind of submissive would—?
“Scott!”
Joe’s hands moved against Scott’s body as he twisted him around and pulled him into another position. Scott didn’t struggle against it. All the fight had gone out of him.
The next thing Scott knew, he was partially reclined with his back against Joe’s chest while Joe leaned against the side of his bed, his legs extended on either side of Scott’s body.
