Chapter 14
OAKLEY
Dominating a weaker person is easy. Enjoyable, certainly for them, but easy.
Silas is another beast entirely.
Rendering him helpless is pretty much the sexiest thing I’ve ever done in my life, until, that is, I take all the accoutrements away.
Eyes closed, mouth open, hands white-knuckling his knees as he pulls his legs back, exposing himself to me.
Truly a piece of art.
I press inside him, and he arches, the veins in his neck standing out, his Adam’s apple bobbing on a pained swallow.
“Too much?”
Rather than saying his answer, he keeps his mouth open, adjusts the grip on his knee, and signs yes.
“Do you like too much?”
Yes.
Fucking hell.
Pushing his knees even farther back, stretching him, compressing his lungs just that little bit more, I pound into him with all my strength, all my weight.
With his mouth open, all he can verbalize is a cracked “uhn, uhn, uhn” as I brutalize his hole. That choked sound scratches something ugly and dark inside me.
Dominating a weaker person is easy.
Dominating a man who might still kill me in my sleep… This may be what I’ve needed all along.
I shiver at the thought of what he could do to me if he were anyone else.
My extensive study and research into the darker aspects of human psychology provide all kinds of answers and diagnoses, but I flip off the switch for that side of my brain.
Academia can rest for a moment.
I need to take this man apart.
I spit into his open mouth, and he whines, clenching around me tight. Choking, swallowing.
He’s right. A hard cock and a clenching hole are pretty clear signs that he’s into it.
“Wrap your legs around me,” I demand.
He complies immediately.
“Grab the bottom of your headboard, darling.”
He reaches above him, obeying my command. I wrap both hands around his neck.
Before I can even ask, he frees a hand to sign yes. Yes. Yes.
There’s a protocol for removing oxygen from the equation. I don’t give a fuck about protocol. I just squeeze until his tongue protrudes from his still-open mouth.
It’s the veins around his temple that get me. The redness of his face. How compliant he is beneath me.
I release his neck and grab the edge of the mattress on either side of him.
Hammering him.
The frustrations and terrors of the day melt away as sweat pours down my chest.
I nibble and nip at his mouth.
“Kiss me,” I whisper.
His eyes twitch behind his closed lids as if he wants to open them. But for me, he keeps them closed. Tightens his grip on the headboard.
And kisses me like it’s our last moment on earth.
I’ve got a pretty good imagination, but it’s got nothing on this.
Marry me, he joked.
And suddenly, I cannot wait to make this man my husband.
Foolish, pre-orgasm thought.
Still.
That’s the thought, cherishing him as I degrade and take him apart, that drop-kicks me into a long, hard fall. I roar as the orgasm shatters me, rolling ecstasy from the soles of my feet to my hairline. I’m an animal, a monster fucking a monster.
Please, he mouths silently.
“Come.”
He shudders and shifts, fucking himself on my cock until cum squishes out of his hole. Grunting, yipping until he’s yelling my name as wet heat spreads between us.
I release the mattress and knock his hands away. Still connected, we wrap ourselves in each other’s arms, squeezing tight, holding as hard as we can, as if needing an anchor to the earth because otherwise we might go floating off into space.
He grins up at me. Eyes black.
Am I used to that already?
I watch his eyes carefully.
They swirl back to icy blue, his focus sharp.
Sy chuckles. “Thanks for giving me what I wanted. Even though I’m a pretty bad bet.”
I nail him with a glare.
“Who’s a worse bet? The murderer or the man falling for the murderer because he’s a murderer?”
Sy blushes, then nips at my nose. “What kind of diagnosis would you give yourself?” he asks, so very earnest.
“Monster fucker with a hint of white knight.”
“The knight who fucks the monster?” He’s amused by my answer. And maybe a little proud. “How very complicated.”
His laugh is the sound of the universe, and I slip out of him.
“Fuck, sorry about the mess.”
“I’m not,” he says, eyes black and sparkling.
I’m beginning to realize the black can mean good things too.
His cock, spent and pretty and stuck to his happy trail, twitches.
“Come, little monster. Warm my cock in the shower,” I say, pushing sweaty hair off his forehead.
Silas runs his tongue over his lower lip and rises like a piece of sculpture from the bed. Cum runs down his inner thighs as he walks to the bathroom. The look over his shoulder before he walks through the doorway is enticing and fond all in one go.
I get up, lazy about it, and he’s got the water running by the time I make it into the bathroom.
Pulling him to me, we kiss in the warm fog of steam as it fills the space.
I slide my fingers into the crack of Sy’s very well-formed ass, now slick with cum and lube.
I play against the sensitive skin, the wet and dirty sounds music to my ears.
“Look how I wrecked your hole.” I dip my middle finger in to the first knuckle. “You’ll be loose for days.”
He smiles and buries his face into my chest, running his fingers through the thick pelt of fur. “I’m your free-use bitch, Oak. Take me whenever you want me. Keep me loose and sticky at all times.”
His words are filthy, but the Texas purr in them is warm as melted butter.
“Free use is a very specific term.”
“I know. That’s why I used it.”
There’s a neediness creasing the soft skin around his eyes, the nervy way he’s massaging my pecs, thumbing my nipples.
I’ve had lovers toss around that term. I like to think it’s because they know that kind of power is safe in my hands. With Silas, I think it’s a little bit of that, but maybe he’d also like a break from having to control every impulse.
I suppose the question, then, is whether I want that responsibility.
We step into the shower. “Clean me up,” I command softly. “Be thorough about it.”
He is.
His hands are strong, worshipful as he soaps my body. I ride the line between pecs and man titties pretty hard. Silas, it seems, lives for that line. Same with my belly. My thighs. Ass. Calves.
His searching fingers take care of the most delicate bits. Beneath my balls, my inner thighs, under my foreskin. The crack of my ass.
“Fuck, you’re hairy everywhere,” he whispers, swirling around my hole. “Will you let me worship you here?”
“Yes.”
Every command, every affirmation loosens the tension in his shoulders. Lightens the desperation in his fingertips.
“Now?”
I face the wall, bracing myself on my forearms, cocking my hip out.
Having played every form of aggressive sport, I know the round ass is a draw.
Men have worshipped it, as have a few women.
But never as beautifully as Silas. The way he parts my cheeks, runs his nose up my crack, inhaling as if ambrosia.
The first few licks are tentative, then he moans and gives himself into the act.
I’m not quite ready to go again, but it feels good, him on his knees, servicing me simply for the joy of servicing me. I could keep him in that position, letting this freshly devirginized man eat me until his tongue seizes and he begs me for more.
My first request, though, is top of mind. I reach back and palm the back of his head, pushing him farther between my cheeks for a few precious seconds before drawing him away.
I turn, stroking my thick cock.
“Warm it for me.” Remembering who I’m talking to, I explain, “That means you just hold it in your mouth. No sucking.”
“I know what cock warming is.”
The way his hands land on my thighs is delicate. The way he looks at my cock is everything. He first kisses the head, a gentle suck, a swipe of his tongue under the foreskin.
“Silas…”
He pulls back, his expression sheepish.
How precious.
A sheepish monster.
“Warm it,” I repeat.
He pouts, biting his lower lip, nailing me with those pretty blue eyes.
I raise my brow, and his eyes swirl black. He complies, and even that feels dangerous. Holding my soft dick in his mouth, staring up at me with those black, black eyes.
“You can control the shift,” I realize out loud.
He winks, and when he opens that eye, it’s blue. The other is still black.
“My black-eyed fuck boy,” I rumble, ruffling his wet hair.
He smiles around my dick. A light suck. The very lightest.
I let him get away with it.
The low-level arousal chases away the stress of the day, the danger of an Apex predator gently sucking on me enough to keep me half plumped. I bring my fingers to my nipples, pinching. Stretching. No agenda, just…light pleasure.
His eyes capture and chase every detail.
He shifts, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch his hard, throbbing cock.
He knows not to touch it until I tell him to.
How lovely.
I take out the shampoo and wash his hair, careful not to get soap around his eyes or mouth. I wash my hair and beard. Rinse and turn off the water.
I cup the back of his head. “Thank you.”
He pulls away, mouth shiny and red, puffy.
“Let’s take a nap?”
He looks down at his bobbing dick and back up at me.
“Nap first,” I repeat.
His black eyes flatten, become matte.
So perfect.
Yes, I think to myself. Yes, I think I might enjoy the responsibility of dominating a monster.