"Such a good boy, taking me so well."
A guttural moan was Tristan's response to his praise, just before his arms buckled, and he collapsed. The side of his face rested on the bed, so Cade had an unobstructed view of his gorgeous, ravaged face — tears leaking from his closed eyes, shallow breaths rasping through parted lips.
He looked ethereal.
Cade continued to pound, his grip digging into the meat of Tristan's hips.
"Yeah, there you go, baby. So fucking good for me, so fucking tight. You feel so good squeezing around my cock."
Bleary eyes fluttered open for a split second, then drifted closed again. Watching this man completely pliant and yielding beneath him prompted a potent rush of gratification and hunger.
What he told Tristan was true: he was sexually attracted to women but didn't prefer them because dominating someone smaller and weaker felt unfair. Instead, he preferred someone strong enough to fight back, someone who could resist him but chose not to.
Someone like Tristan.
Cade reached for a handful of hair and jerked the redhead to his knees, causing him to cry out with surprise. Pressing Tristan's back to his chest, he continued the punishing pace while he toyed with sore, swollen nipples and listened to low, weak groans rumble in the other man's throat.
"Look at me."
Tristan turned his head to the side.His eyes struggled to focus, but he gazed at Cade with no trace of fear and something that might have been adoration.
Fucking hell.
Brutally pressing their mouths together, he plundered with his tongue as Tristan's poor, needy cock bobbed with each thrust, flinging a long string of pre-cum around like some pornographic lasso. He knew Tristan's orgasm loomed by the way he mindlessly rocked his hips, the way he snaked his hand to the back of Cade's head, pulling him impossibly closer, as if having Cade even this deep inside him wasn't enough.
"Cade, Cade," came the hoarse chant.
He ignored him, wanting to hear him beg.
"Cade, please, I need to … Please let me …"
A fresh wave of tears flowed down Tristan's cheeks, and Cade hungrily lapped them up with his tongue.
"Shhh, baby," he cooed. "Toys don't talk."
He captured another frustrated whimper with his mouth before circling his hand around Tristan’s neck. He heard a gasp of surprise or maybe panic, then felt hands latching onto his forearm.
He didn't move, just softly whispered, "You can use your safe word anytime, and if you can't speak, tap my arm, okay?"
Tristan nodded curtly but didn’t attempt to pull his hand away, and Cade took that as a sign to continue. Inching his hand higher, he forced Tristan’s chin up and squeezed a little, not enough to cut off air, only enough to let him get used to the sensation and have a chance to tap out if he wanted to. When there was no attempt to escape his grip, he continued to choke Tristan lightly as he fucked him hard from behind.
The erotic sounds of slapping skin and Tristan's soft 'ah, ah, ah's continued until Cade released his neck and shoved him onto the bed. Grunting weakly, Tristan collapsed onto his stomach, his arms too weak to support himself.
"Put your hands behind your back."
Shaky, feeble arms wobbled into position, and Cade gripped both wrists in one hand and pinned him to the bed with the other. In this position, Tristan was fully immobilized, but his mouth remained free, and he could safeword out if he wanted.
Cade resumed his reckless pace, his arousal escalating with each delicious slide of his cock. Tristan's breath hitched on every stroke, and he cried, "Yes, yes, oh god, yes."
"Getting close, Tris? Gonna come for me?"
"Yes, so close, please just a little more, please, Cade, oh god, please."
After one more brutal thrust, he pulled out completely.
Tristan wailed, "Noooo," and wept loudly and openly.
"It's okay, baby. I got you," he soothed as he rolled him onto his back. Tristan's pretty cock stood angry and purple from neglect, and he regarded Cade accusingly yet still opened his legs in invitation.
