Dylan mumbled something around his cock that sounded like yes.
Ryker curled his fingers in Dylan’s hair, giving his head a cruel tug and pushing him back against the cabinet.
“Are you sure?”
Ryker looked down, waiting for Dylan to make an affirmative noise. When he did, Ryker squared his stance, getting into a position where he could thrust his hips freely and really fuck Dylan’s throat.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He pushed all the way toward the back of his soft palate. “Put your hands behind your back.”
“Yes, sir,” Dylan mumbled, nearly incomprehensible.
Ryker couldn’t tell if the use of the word sir was mocking or sincere, so he ignored it.
“I’m going to be rough with you,” he warned, giving Dylan’s hair another hard yank. “Tap out if you can’t handle it. I won’t be mad.”
Dylan kept his hands behind his back, waiting obediently, and that was more than enough for Ryker to start fucking his face.
This time, Dylan was more prepared when Ryker shoved his cock toward the back of his throat. He managed to swallow the whole length with minimal gagging, and Ryker was impressed.
“Fucking slut,” he growled, pulling his cock almost all the way out and slamming it back in.
The point where his shaft slid over the very back of Dylan’s tongue and hit his soft palate wasexquisite.
“I should knot your face, show you what it really means to hold your breath.”
Dylan jolted in alarm, and Ryker laughed.
“You don’t like the thought of that?” He pushed his cock balls-deep and held it there. “Don’t worry. I’ll restrict myself to knotting your hole.”
He pulled his hips back, letting Dylan breathe, and thrust back inside.
Dylan was taking him like a champ. Ryker hadn’t been able to really let loose in a while, too busy to hook up with strangers, and August would bite his dick off before he let him get rough like this.
He shuffled closer, trapping Dylan’s head between his thighs and stabbing into his gullet with short, brutal little thrusts.
When he felt himself getting close, Ryker let go of Dylan’s hair and stepped back with an abrupt laugh. He wiped his brow – he’d worked up more of a sweat skull-fucking Dylan than he had on his run – and crouched down.
“Okay?” he asked, patting Dylan’s hair as the boy heaved for breath.
Dylan nodded, giving a thumbs up. Ryker grinned, grabbing his shoulder and giving it an appreciative squeeze.
“Not too much?”
Dylan closed his eyes and swallowed, not answering either way, though judging by the satisfied curve of his lip it couldn’t have been too horrible. Still, Ryker decided to dial it down. He hadn’t intended on being quitethatrough.
“How about you sit on my lap and we make out for a bit?” he suggested, moving his hand up and squeezing the side of Dylan’s neck. His black glove was a stark contrast against Dylan’s skin, giving him a preview of what he would look like if he wore a collar.
He filed the thought away for later.
“Yeah.”
Dylan didn’t say anything else, his voice wrecked, though he looked very happy at the suggestion.
Ryker pulled off his gloves and tossed them on the floor, deciding that he’d indulge Dylan’s fetish enough. He watched Dylan’s expression carefully, but he didn’t seem to mourn the loss of the gloves at all.
He rose to his feet, wondering if Dylan had made the whole glove-fetish thing up to seem kinkier than he really was.
It wouldn’t be the first time one of August’s online dates had exaggerated their kinkiness.
