“You better behave.”
“Or what?” Chris pressed his face to the tiles when Marc jammed his cock between his asscheeks.
“You’ll walk out of here with my palm printed on your ass,” he whispered in his ear before biting his neck. Just the thought of leaving him branded for days turned him feral. “Is that what you want? To be marked like a slut, pretty boy?”
“Oh, fuck!” Chris purred.He. Fucking. Purred. “I still hate it when you say that kind of crap, but fuck me…”
Somewhere inside him, laid-back Marc chuckled at his statement. The guitarist had confessed one day that his dirty, degrading talk made him hot and bothered, but it also made him feel weird, and he never knew how to react. So, of course, the bassist kept doing it. He wanted to break this man while giving him what he craved.
“Want me to hurt you while I fuck you?”
“Yes!” Chris exhaled a moan as Marc glided his dick between his buttocks.
“Don’t. Fucking. Move.”
When Marc released Chris’s wrists, he noticed how tight he’d been gripping them, the clean skin under the negative space tattoo of the right one already bright red.Beautiful. He opened the screen of the shower and stretched enough to grab the bottle of lube from the bag.
When he turned around, Chris was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and hair slicked back, looking at him with defiance. The water cascading down his sculptural frame only enhanced how utterly stunning he was. Magnificent, untamed animal.
“A shower is not the best place to fight,” Marc warned, tamping the beast that was yearning to reach for the guitarist and force him to his knees. “I don’t want to end up in the hospital with a concussion.”
Chris rolled his eyes, letting his arms fall to his sides. “You’re no fun.”
“Shut up and face the wall again.”
“Only if you promise to really fuck me up.”
The bassist raised a brow. “What do you mean?”
“Bite me. Bruise my ass. Be as rough as you can. I don’t give a damn. Just make it hurt, yeah?”
Chris asking him this could only mean one thing; his mind was wreaking havoc. Marc wished he knew what was causing the turmoil, but he’d be lying if he said he was in control of his actions. If the bassist had been feeling dizzy before, those words had just sent him stumbling right into another dimension. He would never say it out loud, but holding back what he truly felt for this man was piling misery inside of him. This was his chance to release some of that seething energy.
“Deal. Now turn the fuck around.” He pointed to the wall opposite the showerhead.
Chris complied, pressing both hands against the cold surface as he stuck his ass out. Marc bit his bottom lip while his fingers roamed down his spine, relishing in the sight of the guitarist’s right buttock trembling when he smacked him hard.
“Fuck!” He dropped his head down between his arms. “Do it again. Harder.”
Marc was conflicted, but he complied, his palm stinging this time.
“Shit!” Chris panted.
He repeated a couple more times. As the skin of his ass painted perfectly outlined fingers and part of a palm, the bassist spouted lube over his cock, stroking himself before he squeezed more onto his hand.
It had only been two weeks since he had plunged his dick into this man for the first time, yet the guitarist had learned how to relax pretty quickly. His muscles were looser, as if he’d realized fear was a useless waste when Marc was the one taking care of him. But something felt different tonight. Chris was already twitching and clenching all over, leaking with intermittent spurts of cum. The urgency of his body was nothing like before.
“You good?” the bassist asked. “You’re burning.”
“Yeah…” Chris moaned. “I-I’m just too fucking turned on… I—can’t… Fuck!” He panted and groaned, hips moving to meet the bassist’s fingers halfway. “Fuck me, Zimmer.”
Slowly withdrawing, Marc angled his dick with his ass and rammed inside of him without warning. Chris’s scream reverberated amongst the four walls of the small room. It echoed with the drawl of a moan when the bassist put a palm on his head, pressing his cheek against the tiles. Gripping his hip and pulling out, he slammed back in again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Chris panted over and over as Marc gave him what he’d asked for; a vile sex experience.
He groaned, watching his friend’s face turning a soft shade of red under his hand, veins swelling slightly on his temple. “You look so vulnerable right now… I want to ruin you so bad.” He continued with the savage thrusts, the strain on his muscles tingling, reminding him just how fucking alive he was.
“Do it.” Chris curled his hands into fists on the wall, shivering with anticipation. “Give me everything you’ve got.”
