Chapter 60
SINN'OUS
Their meal had been cut short, with Izz being called to visitation, but what they had shared had been more than Sinn'ous expected. He’d felt more than he expected. Almost . . . proud? Or perhaps something close to smug satisfaction in other men wanting what he has. Who he owns.
They had agreed to do it again. For a next meal. One where they wouldn’t be interrupted so soon.
Now he’s alone in his cell, waiting on Izz to return from visitation. Wondering what exactly he’s talking to his family about. If Izz has told them about him? And what exactly would he have said?
It matters not. They will soon know who he is, and that he is a stone in Izz’s life now. And absolutely nothing will shake him loose.
He’s casually seated on his bunk, propped up against the wall, when Izz enters the cell. And the look of adoration tells him instantly that the letter was shared.
He sent the letter in preparation to pave the way to Izz’s dependence on him once outside these walls. He won’t be a caged killer forever, very soon he will be free to hunt whomever he pleases. And Izz will be right there by his side. For better or worse, Izz will never leave.
It’s either he stays there of his own accord, or he stays in the basement until he no longer tries to leave.
I will never let him leave.
And trapping his boy within the financial security of a home, among other benefits will work wonders in creating a barless cage.
Next thing he knows Izz’s on the bunk and straddling his legs, sitting down right on his crutch, and locking their lips in a kiss that pours out all of his boy’s gratitude and devotion.
The kiss is broken all too soon, his boy’s face pressing into his chest, which is rising and falling in an unsteady way. Same too is Izz’s.
“I can never repay you for any of it,” his voice is muffled by the prison shirt’s fabric, but Sinn'ous hears him.
You are right where I want you. Reliant. Pliant. Obedient.
“I’m not asking you to,” Sinn'ous calmly states, slipping his hands around Izz’s waist to hold him in place.
“Why did you . . .”
“You care for them, and I’m in a position to help them for you. It’s not as though I’m using the house.”
“Thank you.” Izz kisses down the column of Sin'ous’s neck. Sliding his knees backwards to slip further down the bunk. His hands working at Sinn'ous’s pants, gripping their waistband.
Now this is interesting. And the first time Izz’s been so bold and forward. He’s curious to see where his boy is going with this.
The position his boy is in places him very close to Sinn'ous’s crutch.
It would be so easy to grab the back of his head and pull him the rest of the way down.
Watch those bright green eyes widen as his lips are breached by a thick cock.
And to top it off, his boy is now working down his pants, and Sinn'ous’s cock will soon be exposed to take exactly that.
“What did I do to deserve you? You’re so kind to me,” Izz’s eyes flicker between Sinn'ous’s, studying whatever expression is slipping from them. “I love you. I know I shouldn’t. But I do. I love you.”
Sinn'ous inwardly gloats at Izz’s blurted confession of admiration and love. It’s the last snap of a trap door closing. This is what Sinn'ous has been waiting for, and now he has it. Now he has everything.
Even still, love isn’t something Sinn'ous does, so he’s not about to say it back.
But for a reason he can’t put his finger on, his pulse quickens on his reply, catching the lie in his throat.
So instead of a lie he pulls Izz up, away from his now exposed cock, and into a deep kiss.
Playing his tongue over soft lips until his entrance is granted, and he can delve in.
Izz tastes the same, a sweet elixir that could hook tentacles into the most refined of men. And considering Satan is under his belt, he can see no wrong in giving in to more.
His boy breaks the kiss, lips taken away, and the fire of need blown into a raging inferno.
Only for those same lips to take the path over his jaw, kissing, licking, sucking.
They continue down his neck where it only gets better.
Not because Izz puts his mouth to work elsewhere, no, it’s due to the fact that when Sinn'ous thrusts his hand into his hair and pulls Izz’s head down to his crutch, his boy gives in and goes without resistance.
No snipped comments. No push back. Just obedience.
Complete obedience.
And fuck if that doesn’t go straight to his cock, where it pulsates, jumping at the anticipated heat that’s about to engulf it. Precum beads from its tip, and runs down the shaft.
“Open.” Sinn'ous doesn’t wait for a reply, he lets out some of his inner sadism to play, and shoves Izz down. He has to give it to his boy, he parts his lips and opens right up, taking the head of Sinn'ous’s cock into his mouth.
Sinn'ous moans. He couldn’t have stopped the sound even if he tried. Stopping his hand from shaking is also a trial in self-control. He has to tighten his fingers in Izz’s hair to stave off the tremor racing through them.
His boy practically devours him. Tongue lavishing the head, tip playing at the slit, then circling around.
He has to pinch his eyes shut, because the visual coupled by the feel is sending him racing too fast to the finish line.
And he is not ready for this to end. Not now that he can take his boy’s throat.
And while he does have a death grip in Izz’s hair, he isn’t using it to control the boy’s head, he allows Izz to take charge.
He wants to test exactly how far Izz’s devotion goes, but first he wants to lie in the boy’s worship of his cock.
And fuck does Izz worship it. Playing his tongue over every sensitive inch of the head, his hand holding Sinn'ous’s cock in place.
Not stroking. Not moving. And it’s driving him insane.
He needs more friction. And he doesn’t care that it’ll be dry.
He wraps a hand around the smaller one at the base of his cock, working it up and down his shaft. There’s a tinge of pain, but a whole ignited flare of pure pleasure. He uses his other hand, still in Izz’s hair, to pull his mouth up and down. A slow rhythm hedging on the cusp of what he will take.
The wait is worth it.
To drag this out. To savour it.
Wet noises fill the space between them, obscene sounds that are unmistakable for what they are. It sends him over the edge of his control.
Yanking both hands off his cock, he takes the back of his boy’s head, and at the same time that he pushes down, he thrusts up. Spearing his cock down Izz’s tight throat. And fuck do the noises he makes drive Sinn'ous insane.
He doesn’t stay deep for long. Pulling out to shallowly continue thrusting. Each ragged gag has his cock twitching out more precum.
Izz’s nails are digging into Sinn'ous’s thighs, he would rather have those hands cuffed behind the boys back, but there is no way he is stopping to find something to restrain them. He can, however, change their positioning.
He tugs Izz off, dragging him by the hair to position him on his back, head at the very edge of the bunk, Sinn'ous standing over him.
Now this position gives him power.
Izz tries to speak, but it’s not something Sinn'ous cares to hear, instead he tightens a fist around his throat, tilting his boy’s head back.
And shoves his cock back inside, deep enough to feel the head of his cock in his hand.
Feeling it move back and forth under the skin of Izz’s throat is doing something beastly to him.
Sending signals of possessiveness that have him needing to cum down that pretty little throat and mark it as his.
Hips rocking in a steady rhythm he takes his cock down Izz’s throat over and over.
Thrusting half his cock into his mouth every time.
The forced way he is staying his hand for violence is a testament to how much control he possesses over himself.
The fact that he isn’t driving balls deep on every thrust is an all-consuming thought.
How I could fuck my cock straight down and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.
Sinn'ous moans, doubling his speed. Feeling his cock and watching it disappear inside. Plump lips stretched around his girth, and tears leak from the corners of Izz’s eyes. And through it all, Izz hasn’t pushed back once. He is lying there and taking what Sinn'ous gives.
Getting off to inflicting pain has his resolve crumbling, he shoves balls deep on the next thrust, hand slapping down on Izz’s chest when his prey convulses in a way that looks like he’s about to try to pull back. His other hand is secure around Izz’s throat, a grip he can feel squeezing his cock.
“Fuck.” The moaned curse slips out. The resulting full body shudder he’s hit with is worth it, Izz’s throat spasms and constricts, and it has Sinn'ous choking back a gasp.
He uses Izz’s throat brutally. A collection of shallow thrusts followed by him driving straight in and stopping only when Izz’s lips hit the base of his cock.
For the sole purpose of his boy’s continued pliance, he speaks words of reassuring encouragement. “You’re taking me so well.” “Keep going.” “I know you can take it.”
And each time he follows it up by sending his cock deep. Choking his boy and revelling in the total power he holds in his hands.
He can’t stop it. His orgasm crashes into him in a whole body stiffen.
He thrusts down Izz’s throat as deep as he can go, and releases rope after rope of hot cum into his boy.
His vision blackens on the edges, riding the wave which takes him into a place of complete satisfaction to mark his boy in this way.
Half aware of his boy pushing back on his thighs, he knows he should pull back. Even when he wants to hold his cock down that spasming throat until it goes slack and his boy loses consciousness. He jerks his hips forward one last time, ringing the last drops of cum from his cock.
“Good boy,” he praises. “Very good boy.”
Sinn'ous guides Izz’s head back, slowly allowing his cock to slide free. His boy immediately starts coughing, and rolls onto his side to drag in air. While Sinn'ous basks in the afterglow, cock lying limp and spent.
Oh, he’s going to be doing this a lot more.