“No,” he says, without any follow up. “Now hang on, tough guy.”
I’m powerless to do anything but hang on. I’m just as incapable of movement as I was when I was being tortured, except now I only want to be able to move so I can grab him, yank him closer to me and then rub my fucking face all over himuntil he’s red raw with stubble-burn and smells like nothing but my sweat for the rest of his life.
The rope that’s tied around my wrists is slung up over a rafter and tied, with the loose tail dangling down the other side, ending a few inches above my head. The intruder grabs hold of it and uses the leverage to sling himself over my lap so he doesn’t have to touch me at all, which I take very personally, but also does nothing to impact how desperate my dick is to be inside him.
He releases the rope with both hands, reaching down between his legs to deftly open my fly. Then, finally, I get his skin on my skin. I suck in a sharp breath as his warm fingertips dip into my boxers and find my cock, wrapping around my length to gently tug me out.
The pulse of pleasure that shocks through me at the contact after all this teasing is so fierce, for a second I genuinely worry I’m about to go off in his hand. Then he really would murder me, I bet.
Instead, I take a few harsh breaths and try to get myself under control. I focus on studying his face instead of what he’s doing to my aching dick as he produces a condom from somewhere and quickly slips it on me before lining me up with his wet little hole. I look at how dark and thick his eyelashes are, making his irises look even more pale. I notice his face is kind of heart-shaped, which makes him look prettier than he has any right to, and that once you get close enough to see through the stubble, he has a cleft in his chin.
I want to press my thumb into it.
I want to bite it.
I want to drip cum into the little depression after spraying it down his throat.
God, I’m already so lost over this alien creature about to fuck himself on my cock.
As soon as I think that, he brings his hand back up to the rope, braces himself and then steadily presses down until his rim has swallowed my cock. His pace is unrelenting, like he’s not even breaking a sweat. He doesn’t stop moving until his body has swallowed me from root to tip, and his thighs are flush with mine.
I’m still panting, my cock twitching inside him.
Move, please.
The urge to grab hold of someone andfuckhas never been stronger. But I can already also feel the precipice of my orgasm right there, growing closer as he studies me with those dark-lashed eyes of his.
He looks less affected. Breathing heavily still, sure. And there’s a pretty flush that’s reached his cheeks. But apart from that, he seems content to hang there, only occasionally contracting to squeeze around my length and make me gasp, as if it amuses him how desperate and pathetic I am right now.
It’s not like he’s wrong. I am desperate and pathetic. He can do literally whatever he wants to me, and I’d probably thank him for it. And I’m supposed to be the one who’s always in control, both internally and of the people around me.
Without warning, his biceps flex and he raises himself up. Once again, no part of him is touching me except the rim of his hole as it clutches the tip of my cock, and then he slams himself back down onto my lap, pulling the most strangled, undignified sound out of me that I think I’ve ever made during sex.
After that, it becomes a blur. My fearsome seraphim starts to work my needy, pathetic cock like he’s mounting a bull, and I’m still tied down and only along for the ride. I cry out and start babbling and begging at some point. He gets more and more flushed, but otherwise keeps his composure. The power in his hips is indescribable, as he slams down over and over, swallowing me whole every time.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I babble. “Come. Please come. See you come.”
He considers me when I say it, not breaking his stride at all, only cocking his head to the side while he rides me.
Without warning, he picks up the pace. He’s working me ferociously, and I can feel my ability to stave off my own orgasm weakening. Then he lets go of the rope with one hand again and wraps it around my fucking throat. My neck is thick, and his hands aren’t small but they’re small compared to mine. He can barely get his fingers halfway around, but that doesn’t seem to have an impact on how much force he exerts when he squeezes.
My air is cut off, my vision swims and every sensation in my body is cranked to a new level. With my skin tingling, I try to gasp but fail.
“That’s it,” he moans, more affected than I’ve seen him this entire time. “Come inside me, little rabbit. You know you want to. Spill that load for me.”
That’s all it takes. With a groan, my cock flexes inside of him, throbbing as I empty myself into the condom, pretending in my mind’s eye that it’s really flooding his insides. He keeps clenching around me the whole time, bouncing up and down and continuing to let out breathy moans, until I finally finish and starbursts are exploding in front of my eyes from the lack of oxygen.
Again, he moves in a sudden burst. He lets go of my throat, and the sudden rush of oxygen is like an aftershock of orgasm, almost. But he also uses his grip on the rope to stand up, letting my still-hard cock slip out of him where it flexes in the open air one more time, a little more cum dribbling into the full condom.
I gasp, but he pays no attention. He’s busy shucking his jockstrap in front of me. As soon as it’s off, he throws it at me, landing so it’s draped directly over my face. I use every brain cell I have to focus, because I don’t want to miss a second of what’s about to happen.
As soon as he fists his cock, all the restraint he had before is gone. He’s not just panting; he’s moaning like a fucking whore. If I had the chance, I’m pretty sure I could rally for another round in just a couple minutes of listening to that filthy noise fall from his mouth.
He works himself savagely, fisting his slim, uncut cock, the pink head peeking out over and over while he practically wails and bends over at the waist with pleasure.
In barely thirty seconds, he looks close. He steps back in toward me, and for a minute I think I’m going to finally get his hands on me.Reallyon me. But no. Instead, he places one hand on the dirty jock that’s draped over my forehead and uses that as a barrier between us as he leans against me.
One more choked, ungodly noise spills out of his mouth and then cum spurts out of him, arcing across the space between us to paint stripes up and down my bloody, sweaty bare chest.
