“Yeah, okay. Come here, doll.”
He pushes his body against mine, as if we weren’t already fused together. I reach down and fumble blindly under the sheets until we’re both naked, and Tadhg is already panting, rocking his hips against me and leaking a trail of precum over my thigh as he dry-humps me. For all the concerns filling my head with noise, I’m still fucking rock hard myself, because he never fails to get me there.
There’s just something about him going from the most closed-off, tightly wound person I’ve ever seen to this wanton, desperate, sluttythingthat immediately turns me all the way on. It’s gorgeous. So unabashedly sexual and submissive, like he’s subconsciously trying to make up for how much of his life he’s spent repressed and contained.
I never want it to stop. I grab on to his ass with both hands, digging my fingers into all the muscle and flesh there and guiding him as he rocks into me. He starts making those littleah-ahsounds that he sometimes does before he comes, and this has got to be a record for how quickly he’s gotten himself there.
He deserves this. I keep rocking him, enjoying the feel of his soft skin stretched over a flushed, stiff cockhead everywhere it touches me. Enjoying the way my own cock keeps dragging across his hipbone as he rides my leg.
And of course, I can’t help but bring my mouth to his ear to whisper to him.
“So perfect for me, doll. A perfect, desperate slut with a greedy cock and a needy pussy. You look so beautiful when you ride me, I want you to make a mess all over my stomach like the hot little prize that you are. What a good girl. Rubbing off on my leg like she needs to. Perfect.”
Tadhg’s small gasps turn to choked, bitten-off moans and cries as his movements get faster and more uncoordinated. He’s getting close, but I still have time to suck my middle finger into my mouth, getting it nice and wet, before reaching back down and slipping it into his entrance to seek out his prostate.
As soon as I stroke him inside, he loses it. With an anguished cry, he stiffens and spills thick ropes of white all over my chest, stomach, and pubes. It’s everywhere. It erupts with the same level of desperation that he was humping me with.
We’re both panting as he comes down from the orgasm high, and he’s staring at me with those gold-tinged eyes, wide and full of wonder. Well, fear and wonder.
The fear is always there when I look at him. No matter what, it’s never truly gone.
“Better?” I ask.
He pants more, his breathing not slowing down. For a second, I worry that he’s about to cry or segue into a panic attack. Instead, he starts pawing at me all over again.
“More,” he says, his voice cracking. “More, Bambi. Please.”
I frown, because I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him desperate in quite this way before. No matter how much begging he’s done for me in the relatively short time since we started fucking.
His big, warm hand wraps around my cock and when he strokes me, his grip is tight enough to make me hiss. I can feel his intensity in every single movement, every shadow, every flicker of his expression.
He needs something from me.
I don’t know what, but I can guess.
I don’t waste time. I know my broth–lover better than anyone.
He whines when I lean away from him, but it’s only for a second. I fish something out of the nightstand, along with the lube. When I turn back to him, he looks wrecked, like I’m about to bail. I’ll show him exactly how much I’m unwilling to let him go, though.
I let myself be as rough as I need to be. I’m careful not to put pressure directly on the bruising over his ribs, but other than that I don’t hold back, grabbing and pushing his larger, heavier body until he’s flipped over on his belly on the bed with his legs spread wide. I pull his beautiful cheeks apart and spit onto his hole, making as much of a mess as I can, before reaching around for my toy.
“Don’t worry, doll. I’m right here. I’ve got what you need.”
By the time I finish speaking, the toy is covered in lube. I brace one hand on his ass and then, without warning and with no hesitation, I slide the entire thing into his hole.
He fucking howls. And I get it. It’s a slim little toy, significantly smaller than most of the things I like to put in his ass, but with no prep whatsoever it’s still going to catch him off guard. I don’t relent, though. He’s bucking and writhing, and I still manage to turn the fucker on to maximum vibrate where it sits snuggly against his prostate.
More animalistic noises tear out of his mouth as his hips jerk. I give his ass a sharp, hard slap for good measure. Hard enough to watch the skin pink up where I touched him. Then I slide my hand up to the back of his neck and scruff him like a lion cub.
“None of that, doll. You’re getting what you need right now. You wanted my hands on you. You asked for this.”
I’ll cover every inch of his bruised skin with my own loving marks until he forgets his father’s fucking hands have ever touched him, if that’s what it takes.
I roll him onto his back again, pulling him until his head is hanging backwards off the side of the bed. The angle leaves his throat completely open and mine for the taking, and just like with the vibrator, I don’t hesitate. I’ve been aching hard for too long, and I slide the whole, hard length of me into his throat, moaning as the muscles there flutter around me.
“Perfect.”
That’s all he gets before I’m too breathless to talk because I’m fucking his throat with abandon. His whole body—all 200-something pounds of muscle—rocks with each movement. His face and neck are already bright red, the flush crawling down his chest underneath all the black lines of his tattoos. And every sound that comes out of his mouth is depraved. Choking, gagging sounds that should repulse me, but actually only make me want to fill him with my cum even more.
