Chapter 46
SINN'OUS
Waking up to discover Izz angling his body this way and that, inspecting the bruises left behind, is mildly domestic.
What one might think equals to a relationship or something equally sappy.
Then the conversation to follow, and the stammered words of his boy.
All clicked together into the perfect cover to seed what he will have. It had been so easy to speak the lie.
‘I’d have to draw blood from you to find my own satisfaction.’ A lie that rolled off his tongue and cemented his next round of moulding his boy into what he wants. What he craves.
And right now. Backing Izz up to the cell wall, while they’re both completely naked. Prowling in to close off any attempt at escape. Not that he can escape, they are locked in a cell together.
Izz’s face drains of colour, “I . . . umm,” his eyes continuously dart to the door.
The trapped animal look is fitting, and it’s ragging up things Sinn'ous has to muscle back down. He isn’t doing this to kill Izz. This conversation is to prepare his boy for the next steps.
“Have you heard of knife-play, Gorgeous,” Sinn'ous drawls, stepping in closer. Bracing himself to fend off the darker desires he struggles with daily. Well, ‘struggles with’ is a stretch. He usually gives in to them, and offers the sacrifice they demand.
His boy shakes his head, back hitting the wall, trapped chest to chest with Sinn'ous. Their faces inches apart. The panic and fear racing over his features has Sinn'ous suppressing a grin.
Satan give me strength, he’s too fucking innocent.
He wants to shatter that innocence. Crush it and remould it.
Satan, it’s good to hold this much control over another.
Sinn'ous’s lips brush over Izz’s ear, “you’ve enjoyed me biting you . . .” He emphasises his words by grazing his teeth over Izz’s neck, causing a shiver to run down his pinned body. “Well. Knife-play holds a similar pleasure . . . I promise you’ll enjoy it . . . I know you will,” Sin drawls.
Izz shudders at the tongue Sinn'ous licks over his throat. Firmly pressing his prey into the wall, allowing his size and power to bleed into this interaction.
That’s right, little doe, you belong to me. And there is nothing you can do about it.
The way his boy stands there, quaking, and visibly unnerved. Yet does nothing to fight back. It has a primal need unlocking inside him. And fuck if he isn’t going to grab the need by the balls and wring every ounce of pleasure from it.
The look in Izz changes. A shift deep inside those green irises that he would have missed if he hadn’t been staring unblinking at him.
Sinn'ous grips Izz’s jaw tightly, shoving his face upwards, exposing his throat. “Only I’ll use something slightly sharper, to mark your smooth . . .”
His other hand runs over Izz’s uncovered body. Cementing how naked and vulnerable his naive prey is.
“. . . Clear. . .”
He emphasises the word by digging his nails into his boy’s abdomen. Only slightly. Enough to leave behind red lines when he drags his hand downwards.
“. . . Skin . . .” he finishes his sentence, and stills his wandering hand. Cupping Izz between the legs, grinding his palm into Izz’s hard length.
The heat of his boy’s cock has Sinn'ous’s hand squeezing around the shaft, moving in lazy strokes up and down. A rhythm he knows will not be enough to bring Izz to climax.
No. His boy will only cum when he allows it.
“You want to cum don’t you. Want me to work you over in my hand. But why should I. Why should I give you what you want. Do you think you deserve it.” He words everything so Izz knows it’s all rhetorical.
There is no bargaining to be had here. No pleading. No begging. No mercy.
Sinn'ous catches Izz’s lips in his own, eating in the noise of shock his boy squeaks.
Delving his tongue inside, he takes whatever he wants.
Driving in the stake of coercing an open acceptance within Izz, for the role his boy has to accept.
His boy will learn his place. And during that training, he will learn to take Sinn'ous’s knives.
Naive as his boy is, Sinn'ous knows he is eating away at the ability his prey has to mentally combat the control Sinn'ous is consuming him with.
He increases the speed in which he jerks Izz’s cock. Twisting on the head to play over the nerve endings. Precum smears over his palm, it heightens the slick sound until it’s very obvious, from an outside perspective, what they are doing in Sinn'ous’s cell.
Not one to take satisfaction in allowing someone else to be the only one taking pleasure from Sinn'ous’s body, he doesn’t drag this out. And Izz obeys the unspoken commend, cumming after a few more pulls to his cock.
The way his boy locks in tight, moaning and convulsing in time to the pulsing of his cock shooting cum onto the prison floor.
Has Sinn'ous’s skin crawling. And not in a good way.
In a way that threatens to drag him under the surface of memories.
Memories from when he would give another what they want.
A time when he couldn’t do anything. When he was the weaker one.
Sinn'ous breaks their mouths apart on a growl. He knows his eyes are blazing in fury. It’s a good thing Izz’s are closed, or there is no telling what would happen. What would break.
There is a blissed-out haze over his boy’s features, one that does not dampen Sinn'ous’s fire.
He takes a large step back, then several more to put distance between them.
It’s a blessing when the cell’s door opens on an electronic clunk.
Putting a lid back onto whatever that just was.
The total out of control he just was. Sinn'ous stuffs his limbs into a fresh set of prison greys.
Using the added time of busying himself to close off every emotion that may have leaked into his features.
“I’ll drop you off at your cell, you can walk with Reni to breakfast.” He doesn’t wait for a reply. Just leaves his cell to wait further down the platform. And close the last doors of his past, adding extra locks to stop them opening again.
Though, he twitches uncharacteristically at the knowledge that the locks he is trying to use might be new, but the hinges holding the doors’ up are rusted beyond repair. It’s only a matter of time until they give under the added pressure.