I pull out with a filthy pop, strings of spit connecting Sín’s swollen lips to the head of my cock. I haul him up by the hair, spin him around, and shove him chest-first against the wall.
“Pants down. Ass out. Now.”
Sín hesitates, I wonder if I have read this moment wrong. I need to be in control and as wonderful as getting my cock sucked is, I need to pound something and hard.
“No?”
Sín twists around, fear radiating through his expression. “Lube? Do you have lube?”
I let out a small growl, wondering who has used this poor man without preparing him properly. I dig into my pocket and produce a small packet of lube between my fingers. “Yeah and I’ve got more.”
The instant relief on Sín’s face pisses me off, more at whoever tried to ruin Sín. Then I remind myself that this is a one-off, a way to get my frustrations out before I have to return to being VP again.
I wait another moment before shoving Sín’s jeans and underwear to his thighs. His ass is smooth and perfect, already clenching with obvious need. I rip open the package and squirt it on my fingers, press two against that tight hole, and push inside slowly at first, letting the man feel every inch of the stretch.
“You need to stop, you fucking tell me.” I never give that out to my one night stands, not because I would not stop but because I have never needed to say it. Sín relaxes an inch further, his forehead thunking against the wall, but he pushes back immediately, taking the intrusion with a broken sound of relief.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” I mutter, scissoring into Sín’s ass roughly, curling hard over the man’s prostate on every pass until the man’s legs start to shake. “Been a while since anyone wrecked this pretty hole, hasn’t it? Or do you just save it for men who know how to use it right?”
“Please,” Sín breathes, voice already wrecked and hoarse. “Need it. Need you inside me.”
I lift an eyebrow, surprised I have found such a willing participant. Usually there is more conversation or at least pushback but it is like Sín has been waiting for a similar opportunity. I briefly wonder if someone has sent Sín here to get into my head, to fuck up the Obsidian’s plans and the drug we are spreading throughout the city.
Not possible. Just fuck the guy and go.
I add a third finger, fucking him open with blunt, relentless strokes. “Begging already. Christ. You are perfect. Made to be fucked open and used until you can’t think straight.” I have no plans to make this an entire evening, but just the idea of wrecking this man over and over and over makes my cock thicken further.
I pull my fingers free, spit on my cock, line up with Sín’s ass, and drive in with one brutal thrust that buries me to the hilt.
The man cries out, both hands flat against the wall, even as he pushes back. I clamp a hand over Sín’s mouth and grip his hip hard enough to leave bruises that will last for days.
“Quiet,” I growl against Sín’s ear. “You take what I give you, and you thank me for it with this tight little ass.” I pull out and slam back in. “I don’t need anybody coming in here and seeing me pound this sweet little hole.”
I fuck him harder then, deep and punishing strokes that slam the man into the wall on every thrust and make the wet slap of skin on skin echo through the small room. Sín pushes back desperately, meeting every drive, his whole body shaking with the force of it. I bite down on the curve of Sín’s shoulder through the shirt, teeth sinking in just enough to mark.
“That’s it. Squeeze my cock just like that.” I pause as Sín moans into my hand. “Fuck, really fucking love this, don’t you?”
I reach around, wrap a rough hand around the man’s leaking cock, stroking him in time with my thrusts, my thumb swiping over the slick head on every upstroke. “Come on. Come for me. Show me how much you love getting used like this.”
The man comes with a muffled sob against my palm, ass clamping down so hard that my vision whites out at the edges. I fuck him through it, my hips snapping brutally against him as I chase my own release until the pressure inside me finally snaps. I bury myself deep and flood the man’s hole with hot, thick pulses, grinding through every last drop while the man trembles and clenches around me.
For a long moment, the only sound is our ragged breathing and the faint drip of come leaking out around my cock.
I stay inside him, forehead pressed to the back of the man’s neck, hand still covering his mouth. The static in my head is finally gone. The pipeline, Sol’s orders, the eastern corridor threats, the seven-year-old screaming in my chest for a mother who never looked back... everything has gone blessedly quiet. All that remains is warm skin, my spent cock, and the soft, trembling body still yielding under my grip like it never wants to be anywhere else.
I pull out slowly, watching my come leak down the man’s thigh in thick, pearly trails. The man makes a soft, wrecked sound, like losing my cock hurts worse than the brutal fuck itself.
I tuck myself away, zip up, and step back.
Neither of us speaks.
I unlock the door and walk out without looking back. But the image stays burned behind my eyes—the way the man dropped to his knees, the way he opened, the way he gave everything without hesitation.
For the first time in years, I feel something dangerously close to peace.
Saint
Aweeklater
