I smother him. Not just choking him on my cock but covering his nose sometimes. Crushing his face with my pelvis. There’s no reprieve, just enough of a break each time so he can suck in the air he needs to keep living and then it’s back to gagging and seeing stars. I couldn’t even say how long it goes on for, because I get just as lost in it as he is.
He doesn’t get hard again, but I can see him chubbed a little, dark red where his cock lays against his skin and still wet from before. His hips are still jerking as the vibrator pummels his prostate relentlessly, while the rest of his body has gone limp.
When I feel my orgasm building, I pull out of his mouth. The only sounds are the wet, rattling gasps of air that he’s taking, but that’s quickly cut off when I start repositioning him again.
I’m almost there, but he needs to hurt more. I know it. If I don’t hurt him enough now, he’ll just spend the day wandering around, finding some other way to hurt himself. As long as I do it, I know it’s a hurt he can quickly recover from.
It pushes me to be rougher and more aggressive than I’ve ever been with a partner before. Even ones who asked for it. Every touch leaves a mark. As I maneuver him, I pinch him, scratch him, bite him and slap at the most tender, exposed pieces of his flesh. Even the bruising on his ribs, I’m still careful not to press on, but I scrape the skin with my fingernails over and over, hard enough to make him wail.
Every touch makes him cry out, but his hips keep working like he’s fucking the air and at some point, he starts whisperingplease, please, pleasewhenever there’s a gap between the pain.
Once he’s back on his stomach, I feel for the vibrator and yank it out. He spreads his legs as wide as he can for me, his thighs already quaking so hard I’m surprised he can control them. I shouldn’t lose momentum, but I can’t help myself. He’s so fucking beautiful here.
I let myself stroke the pads of my fingers over his hole—now bright pink and slick with lube—before dipping them inside and tugging at the rim for a minute. Just a tease. Just rubbing my finger around his rim, applying pressure as I go.
That’s all the prep he gets.
Once my body is braced over his, chest to back, I lean close so I can whisper in his ear one more time.
“You’re getting everything you deserve, Tadhg. Never forget that.”
I don’t know how he’ll take the words in his state of mind, but I mean them. He deserves this. He deserves to be loved unconditionally, no matter how fucked up he feels or how much his hurt makes him act out. And I’ll be damned if anyone is going to stop me doing it.
I press a gentle kiss to his temple, noticing the tear tracks covering his face and nuzzling against them for just a second.
Then I lean back and push my lube-covered cock inside him. Again, he gets no respite. Just burning, stretching pain combined with the pleasure of being filled.
He doesn’t scream this time. He moans, long and low, while his body trembles beneath me and his hands fist the sheet over and over in a desperate movement.
As soon as I’m seated, I start to fuck. Because as much as I love him, this isn’t sex or making love. This is fucking. This is buck-nasty fucking.
The sounds we make are wet and loud, accompanied by my hoarse grunts and Tadhg’s constant, feral cries. I ride his ass as hard and fast as I can, and it feels like he’s squeezing around me the whole time, trying to suck me deeper, trying to keep me deep inside.
“Come again for me, doll. I know you can.” I punctuate this with the hardest slap to his ass I can manage from this angle.
His cock is still soft, but his body is so responsive to everything I don’t think that will stop him. I know he has one more in him, and I want to pull it out of him.
“No, no, no, no, no,” he moans, unable to articulate more than that.
“Yes.” My voice is sharp and full of authority.
I jerk his hips so they’re higher off the bed but put one hand on his shoulder blades, so his chest and face are still buried in the covers. With my other hand, I reach around to fondle him with the same aggressive, relentless energy I’m burying my cock inside him with, feeling him thicken a little more under my touch.
“I can’t,” he wails, but I only squeeze him tighter.
“Yes, you can. You’re my perfect doll, and you have cum inside you that I need to fuck out. Can you get it out for me? Every last drop. Give it to me.”
No more words come from Tadhg, but he starts sobbing. His hips are working though, grinding against me as I keep jerking him. I can feel the telltale pulse and twitch of his cock as he gets closer.
“That’s it. Perfect. Give it all to Bambi.”
Then he really does cry out. It’s loud. Bother-my-neighbors loud and sounds more like an animal than a human being. But at the same time, his cock pulses and jerks in my hand; hard enough to surprise me.
There isn’t a lot of cum left in him, but whatever he has left he slowly drips out of his body like it’s some kind of exorcism. The sheets beneath him are wet with it, and it’s all I need to push me over the edge.
With both hands on his hips, I ride him as hard as I can for a few more thrusts before burying myself as deep as I can and pulsing my own load into his tight little hole. I can practically picture it flooding his insides. Filling him up until he’s soaked in all the creamy fluid I could possibly pour into him. Stretching his belly from the inside out because there’s so much.
It’s an exaggeration, but the thought makes me shiver all the same.
