“Tongue out. Show me.”
I extended my tongue as far as it would go. He gripped his cock and slapped it against my tongue three times, watching my face with the same focused interest he gave to everything he owned.
“Swallow,” he commanded.
I swallowed, tasting salt and musk.
“Now lick it from base to tip. Show me how much you want this cock inside you.”
I leaned forward as far as the restraints allowed and dragged my tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing the thick vein that ran its length from base to crown before circling the ridge of the head and pulling back.
He groaned — a rough, uncontrolled sound that slipped past his composure for just a moment. “Again. Slower this time.”
I did it again with more deliberation, taking my time, and felt his hand tighten in my hair.
“Good boy. Now press your nose against the base and breathe deep. I want you to remember what it smells like when you're trying to sleep tonight.”
Heat crawled through my body in a wave, humiliation braided tight with arousal. I pressed my nose to the base of his cock and inhaled the scent of clean skin and expensive soap and raw want.
“That's what owns you right now,” Harrow said quietly. “That's what's about to split you open and fill you until you can't remember why you came here.”
He gathered saliva in his mouth and spat directly onto his cock, the wet sound obscene in the quiet room, then used his hand to spread it until his length gleamed. “Lick it off. Every drop. And if you do a good job, maybe I'll be gentle when I fuck you.”
We both knew that was a lie. Gentle wasn't something Harrow kept in his vocabulary. But I leaned forward anyway and let my tongue trace his cock again, tasting his spit mixed with my own saliva, the deliberate degradation of it sending unwanted heat pooling through my body.
“Such an eager little slut,” he murmured, watching me work. “Look at you. Bound and desperate and licking my cock like it's the only thing that matters.”
He pulled away before I could finish and moved back around to my arse. “Now let's see if that hole is as talented as that mouth.”
He pushed inside in one long, unrelenting thrust and buried himself completely. The stretch was intense, bordering on painful despite the preparation, my body struggling to accommodate his size while he held himself still and gave me just enough time to adjust.
“Breathe,” he said. “Settle. And then I'm going to use you until you forget why you came here.”
He gave me thirty seconds. Then he started moving.
Deep, methodical strokes with his cock dragging against my prostate on every thrust, sending pleasure up my spine in waves and making my own cock throb heavily between my legs. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to guarantee bruising, holding me exactly where he wanted me while he took what he'd decided was his. His breathing grew rougher as the rhythm increased — harder, faster, the sound of skin against skin filling the room in a way that was both obscene and oddly intimate. His grip tightened further as his control began to fracture at the edges.
“You feel incredible,” he said, his voice reduced to something rough and stripped down. “Tight. Hot. Gripping me like you were made for this.”
I couldn't respond. Could barely breathe. I endured the assault on my senses, the way he was splitting me open, the friction building toward something I had no way to control or stop.
“Going to fill you,” he groaned. “Going to breed you properly. Make you carry my seed home as a reminder of what happens when you show up looking like that.”
He thrust deep one final time and came, his cock pulsing inside me and flooding me with heat that felt like violation and victory in equal measure. His body shuddered against mine, his fingers bruising my hips, his mouth finding my shoulder to bite down hard enough to mark.
When he finally stilled, he pulled out slowly and I felt his release leak from my hole, warm and obscene, trailing down the inside of my thighs.
“Don't move,” he ordered. “Stay exactly like this. I want to see what I've done to you.”
I stayed frozen — chest pressed to the bed, arse in the air, bound and used and dripping — and heard him step back and make a low, satisfied sound in his throat.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Absolutely ruined.”
His hands spread me open wider. His breath was hot against my skin before his tongue dragged across my hole without any warning, licking up his own release with slow and deliberate strokes that made my whole body jerk involuntarily. His hands held me in place regardless, fingers digging into my arse as he worked through me with methodical thoroughness.
“Stay still,” he ordered between slow licks. “Every drop is mine. Including what's still inside you.”
His tongue pushed inside my hole in shallow thrusts that made my cock twitch despite being spent, licking himself out of me with the same possessive focus he'd brought to everything else. When he finally pulled back and wiped his mouth with theback of his hand, I was shaking and couldn't have said exactly why.
