Chapter 45 #3
“Allows me to do this,” Sinn'ous bites onto Izz’s shoulder, causing Izz to cry out in a way that drives the sound into his predatory instincts.
Izz pushes up against Sinn'ous’s chest, and the way his boy playfully acknowledges his display of dominance rattles him for a moment.
“You alright for me to move,” Sinn'ous licks over the bite mark he’s put in Izz’s shoulder. Not yet hard enough to break skin, but they’ll get to that point very soon. He will have blood running over Izz’s skin while he fucks him hard into the mattress. It just won’t be today.
“Yes,” Izz’s voice is a breathy exhale. And it has a deep effect on Sinn'ous’s pride, that he has his boy under him falling apart on his cock. If that isn’t an ego boost he doesn’t know what is.
Sinn'ous shifts his position to reach more of Izz’s neck, kissing up the delicate throat to suck under his ear. The salt on his skin is adding to the fire burning under Sinn'ous’s own.
He can’t hold back any longer. He needs more.
“Let me know if it becomes too much,” Sin nips gently at Izz’s ear lobe, “I’m not into rape.”
Rotating his hips he starts in at a leisurely pace, rolling his hips to push deeper each time. Inserting more of his cock with each shallow thrust forward.
His mind is a mess, unravelling the very foundation of who he thought he was. The gentle side he is showing his boy is outside of the realm of what he thought he was capable of. He hasn’t even shown this level of vulnerabilities to his brother, and now he has it out in the open for Izz.
“W-wait. Wait,” Izz gasps. Sticking his arm back to grip Sin’s thigh, jolting him out of the bubble he’d created around them.
Sinn'ous stills in a way he ignores, he is not inspecting why he’s giving in to someone a hell of a lot weaker than him.
“You need a minute to adjust?” He leans back over to brace his fist on the bed, using the readjustment in position to clear his head.
And the distraction of rubbing his other hand up and down Izz’s side to ground him.
Because there is no way he is stopping in his own pleasure to check on another’s comfort.
He doesn’t do that. He takes whatever he wants and gives the world the finger if they think they can stop him.
You don’t kill as many as he has and care if someone else is uncomfortable.
“No—yes. I mean. I don’t know,” Izz blurts out words that make it glaringly obvious he has no idea what he wants.
Sinn'ous can guess though.
“You feeling overwhelmed,” Sin nips at Izz’s neck, because it’s right there and he needs to show himself that he is still taking whatever he wants. And right now he wants to suck on the delicate skin of his boy’s neck.
“A little,” Izz confesses.
“We can go at your pace. It’s natural to feel overwhelmed the first time.”
Sounds like the right thing to say? A way to show validation to Izz’s feelings. A way to caress the trust and nurture the blooming flower that is Jasper.
Satan, give me strength.
“I don’t think I like it,” Izz blurts. “I mean, I do. But I . . .” He trails off but Sinn'ous gets the gist.
Sinn'ous kisses his shoulder blade, then shifts, carefully pulling free. Causing Izz to grunt when his cock slowly eases out.
“You need time to adjust. Mentally.”
If he pushes now he will kill any progress he has made. And he has come too far and worked too hard to break the fragile web of trust he’s stealthily woven. That web needs to be a rope before he can start pulling on it, or it’ll break.
He should want to force it. To say ‘fuck it’ and continue on until he takes his pleasure. But instead he is easing away. He’s letting go of the prey he finally caught. And why? For what gain?
Because his boy is opening to him, and if he applies too much pressure he’ll lose the ground he’s made. It’s hard to do, to hold back, when half his mind is on thoughts of pinning Izz down until he is flirting with death and begging Sinn'ous for more.
“But I—”
“I’m not angry,” Sinn'ous reassures. “Or surprised. We have time. I’m aware of who I am and how others view me.”
“I don’t see you that way,” Izz protests.
They lie down side by side, Sinn'ous tucking Izz into his chest, turning him into the little spoon. It’s a test in character for him to do this, to give in to another’s needs over his own. And he has to say it sucks. The sooner he has Izz trapped under his thumb the better.
Once Izz’s dependent on him it will only be a matter of time until he is able to do absolutely anything to his boy and get away with it.
It doesn’t take him long to recognise the desire burning in Izz. The way his boy keeps subtly squirming and shifting. The tightening of his ass muscles tells Sinn'ous everything. His boy is trying to discreetly jerk himself off.
He rolls his eyes at how easy it is to read Izz. And when Sinn'ous grazes his teeth over the nape of his neck, the choked off hiss is as telling as a verbal cue.
He tightens his arms caging Izz to his chest, asserting his control over him in the tightening grip. “Would you like me to help you with that,” Sinn'ous murmurs.
“I . . . But what about you?”
Oh, I’ll be getting off too, don’t you worry.
Sinn'ous repositions behind Izz, unfurling his arm, and letting his fingers slide down Izz’s bare stomach. “Don’t worry about me. Let me take care of you.”
“Yes . . .” Izz whispers, their hands brushing when Sinn'ous replaces it with his own much larger one.
The velvet hardness in his hand isn’t something he’s used to. It’s smaller than his own so it doesn’t feel like when he jerks himself off. And the heat of it, it’s practically boiling.
He gets to work stroking Izz in the same way he strokes his own, rotating and twirling his hand over the head and sliding down to the base. Focusing most of his ministrations on the tip where all those nerves scream for attention.
Izz’s breathing rapidly increases, to the point where he might be close to passing out. For every breath Sinn'ous takes, Izz has taken five.
“Mm, so close . . .”
The words mark the beginning of the downward spiral. Izz locks up tight, his whole body going rigid. Then his cock is kicking in Sinn'ous’s hand and spewing its release all over the sheets. It goes on and on and on. To the point where Sinn'ous is questioning whether he has had two orgasms in one.
And then it’s over. And Izz’s body slumps.
“Thank you,” Izz’s murmured words are dripping in sleep. And the way they thicken at the end, then break off into silence, tells him that he just passed out.
Sinn'ous shoves his hips back, creating enough room to snake his hand between them and begin pleasuring himself. He knows it won’t take him long, he was already on a razor’s edge just from being inside Izz. This will not be a drawn-out pleasure session.
It does take every strand of willpower not to shove the unconscious heavy sleeper over, and take his ass hard and deep until he’s satisfied.
Remember you’re playing the long game, the wait will be worth it in the end.
He can either have Izz for a single fuck, or he can break into Izz’s very psyche and have him for eternity. He knows which one he’ll be choosing.
A crash of sensations is the only warning he gets. His body goes rigid, hot jets of cum spewing out to land on Izz’s exposed hip. And fuck is it hot to mark his boy in such a way. It drags a possessive growl from his chest.
It takes a long time for his soul to return to him and when it does he spends way too long examining his cum on his hand and glistening on Izz’s skin.
Washing it off is not an option. So instead of wiping Izz clean, he uses his cum streaked hand to massage the cum into his skin.
Continuing to rub the red blushed skin until it has absorbed Sinn'ous’s essence.
It’s nearly enough to have him cumming again, his cock even twitches to signal how ready it is.
Though there isn’t enough left in him to harden again. Not so soon.
Izz mutters in his sleep and Sinn'ous pulls him back in. Tucking his boy to his chest, and pulling a sheet over the top of both their naked forms. Eyes devouring his possession in a new light, then flickering to the wall of Satanic memorabilia.
Thank you. He praises Satan. Closing his eyes and tucking his nose into his boy’s neck. Breathing deeply of the new addition to his cell. No longer his prey, but his possession.