You bowed before me and took me into your mouth in one go. I shivered from the wet warmth that engulfed me. For you, giving head was a rare artform, perfected over many years of practice. You’d always told me before you weren’t religious, but the way you made love was some kind of sacrament. I guided you with one hand fisting your long hair. Every time I was on the brink of climax, you paused until I’d regained my composure. If your goal was to make me beg, it worked.
“What do you want from me?” I howled when you refused yet again to finish me off. My fingernails clawed at your scalp. “I swear to God, Henri, you drive me insane.” And not only during sex.
“I want you to ride me.” You rolled us over so that I was straddling your groin, my knees braced on either side of your hips. You bit down on your forefinger and used your own blood to open me up, two fingers and then three. The smell of your blood tickled my nose while a ferocious hunger bloomed in my gut. I could never tell which I wanted more, your blood or sex, but you didn’t make to choose. My hole flared at your intrusion, wanting something thicker and smoother, something that could go deeper. Faster. Harder. Only your cock would do. Your fingers were a tease. Always a tease.
“I need…”
“What do you need, my darling?”
Your loyaltyand your obedience, I thought errantly. But those were more difficult to obtain. “I need you inside me, Henri. Make me take it. All of it. All of you.” I babbled out my desires, asking forallthe things, some of them contradictory, but you understood. With one of your hands cupping my mouth so that I could feed, you guided me onto my mount. The gods had certainly blessed you. Me, less so because I was the one who had to bear your girth. Gravity did me no favors and it burned all the way down—hot, fiery flames licking at my entrance as you hollowed me out. My rectum cramped, stretching to accommodate you. Even with your blood to distract me, the pain was intense.
“Breathe, Vincent,” you said, but oxygen was not a priority at the moment. My thighs trembled and my hole flared as you shifted, camping out inside me. I finished feeding and licked the cut on your hand, staring at you the whole time. Did you ever feel bad for hurting me like this? Just a little bit?
“You’re tickling my lower intestine,” I said once the sting had subsided.
You smiled. “I hope that’s not the only thing I’m tickling. Are you going to sit there and look pretty or are you going to show me what you can do?”
I laid my palms flat against your pecs, curled my fingers in your chest hair, and tugged. Your abdominals flexed and a flicker of pain crossed your face. “Tell me again how pretty I am.” I craved your praise, and at times like this, I needed your encouragement.
“You are beautiful, Vincent. Enchanting, clever….” I moved a little then. “Tight.”
“Tight? That’s hardly romantic.” I lifted a little, only to slide down on your cock again, lodging you deeper inside me. I’d swear you’d only gotten bigger, smooth as marble but hot as a flame.
“So tight and so warm,” you purred. “Unclench, my darling.”
I allowed your seduction to take hold, let it loosen and soothe me. I concentrated on my movements, trying to make it good for both of us, trying to get at…ah yes, right there.
“That’s it,” you coaxed. “Seek your pleasure, my precious boy.”
“So big,” I murmured. “You hurt me every time, but then…” I drifted a little, as the burn transformed into a wonderful kind of friction.
“Then?” you prompted.
“Then you make me feel so good. And so full. Like there’s no part of me you’re not touching. You invade every cell of my body. Skin and blood and…”Heat.I picked up my pace, using my ass and thighs to bounce on your cock, chasing those spikes of ecstasy, drawing it out while taking you deep. I moaned with pleasure and you did too.
“This is where you belong,” you said and grabbed my hips possessively. “You are my reason, Vincent. My life, my meaning…” You murmured your devotions, eyes darkened with lust and longing.
I had no response, too overwhelmed by the drag of your cock against my prostate, too distracted by the building euphoria. Your fingers bruised my ass as you thrust upward to meet my descent. We were a well-oiled piston, my body a sleeve for your flesh, and you used me accordingly. Sweating and delirious, I howled and whimpered and hoped my father wasn’t listening. Nobody wants to hear their son making such craven noises.
“You do this to me every time,” I cried. Reduced me to a needy, mindless animal.
“And you keep coming back for more,” you said, and I loved your arrogance too. I placed your rough palm against my throat. Your fingers tightened, momentarily cutting off my breath before releasing me again. “Yes, my darling. Give me this too. Give me everything.”
My breath, my blood, my pain and pleasure. “All of it is for you, Henri.”
“No one else.”
“Tell me...” I panted. “Tell me…”
“Because you’remine,Vincent.”
Like Icarus reaching toward the sun, I flew without any care for the consequence. I soared into a higher plane of consciousness while my body continued to ride you, or at least, hold on tightly while you hammered me from below. Your expression was fierce and focused, one hand wrapped around my throat and the other jerking my cock. My body spasmed and clenched around you as I came, splashing your nipples and chest with my cum. I grabbed your forearm with both hands while you shuddered underneath me and filled me like a tidal pool. My body clung to yours as our eyes locked and I saw the depths of your devotion, both possession and madness. Could you really share this—share me—with someone else?
“This is ours,” I said, and you nodded slowly, still warm inside me. “Don’t let anyone take it from us.”
You stared at me, pained, then leaned up to kiss my temple. I collapsed on top of you, a mess inside and out. Your big arms wrapped around me, holding me close, but you didn’t give me any other assurances.
I would fight for you, Henri, and fight for us, but I couldn’t do it alone.
