Nathaniel #2
The thought spurs me on, and I slam into him relentlessly, searching for that sensitive bundle of nerves buried so deep inside.
“Find it,” Landon groans. “Make me cry.”
So fucking bossy. So bratty. But I do it anyway, trying different angles repeatedly until he suddenly screams, his chest falling to the mattress, his arms limp.
“Is that it, babydoll? You feel me there?” I grunt out, slamming into him over and over again.
“Yes! Yes, god, there,” he calls out. And with his cheek pressed to the mattress, I can see his profile, how he’s drooling onto my comforter.
“Gonna fuck you until you pass out,” I tell him. “Gonna fucking wreck you and fill you up.”
“Wait!” Landon suddenly gasps, throwing a hand behind himself to shove me away.
And I’m not a complete monster, just a bit of a sadist, I guess, because I step back, pulling out. He stands, turning to face me with a red, tear-soaked face and a confident smile.
“I want to ride you. " Lie down,” he insists.
“I don’t take orders from—”
“Disgusting guys like me, I know,” he interrupts, rolling those gorgeous green eyes of his. “But you’ve just proven how disgusting you really think I am, which isn’t very—might I add. So just lie the fuck down and let me ride that monster cock of yours.”
From outside my bedroom window, rain pours down on us, nearly hiding his lustful gaze as it drops to my dick with how the sun is hidden away.
He’s convinced me. Maybe I’m easy?
I crawl onto the bed, resting my head on the pillows. I have no time to stare at his flushed and needy body before he’s climbing on top of me, sinking onto my length with no hesitation.
“Yes,” he mewls, his rough fingers digging into my sides as he takes me.
My breath catches in my throat, making it impossible to do anything other than gasp. In this position, with him in control, I sink in so much more.
My eyes are locked onto where I can see myself impaling his hole every time he lifts and slams back down. His hair, now darker and matted with sweat, sticks to his forehead as he bounces, his thighs straining.
“Nate,” Landon breathes out, dropping his gaze to mine. “You’re such a fucking prick, but your cock feels so good.”
A startled groan leaves me, my brows furrowing as I take in the blissed-out expression he’s wearing.
Landon is beautiful like this. All wanting and dominant, so turned on and needy for me that I’m momentarily convinced that this is what I exist for. To give him pleasure, to provide him a dick to ride.
The idea of anyone else touching him is making me violent, and the sudden urge to feel myself inside of him is deep and primal.
Lifting a hand from his hip, I do just that, pressing onto the skin below his navel as he cries out, my cockhead bulging from within.
It’s such a perfect sight. My balls are drawing up tight incredibly fast, my hands feeling each tremor of his body. It vibrates through his core, straight down to his throbbing length and his shaking thighs. His hands extend behind himself, gripping my legs as he rides and rides.
As if he’ll never get tired of it. As if he’ll stay right here, impaling himself on my dick until he passes out from exhaustion.
I want him like this, I realize. I think he’s conceited and presumptuous and totally, unattractively manipulative—but I also want him just like this. It’s a contradiction I’ve never felt before, but as I watch him, my chest constricts.
Landon is on full display, a beautiful demonstration of art as he works himself harder.
“Sweet Lanny,” I grunt out, bucking my hips up and into him in time with each bounce he feeds me. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Sweet?” he asks, his own thick brows pinching as he stares down at me, his hole twitching and gripping me tighter. “You… You think I’m sweet?”
“I think you can be,” I whisper, never taking my eyes from him. “When you want to be.”
The edges of my vision blur, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s not from pleasure. No, there is fog in this room with us.
Slowly, all around the empty air above us, little orbs of yellow light appear. They twinkle and dance, some lowering to graze Landon’s shoulders and float above his head, and some by the dresser and barricading the door.
He’s fucking glowing, and as he looks away, following my line of sight, he groans—loud and heady.
“Oh, fuck, Nate. Please, more. Show me more,” he begs.
My power of illusion is leaking—for the first time in nearly a decade, I have unintentionally released my own energy, submerging the room in my own internal feelings. My own desires.
Landon takes in the bright lights around him, fighting to keep his eyelids open as he stops bouncing and begins to roll his hips harshly against me.
“So… so beautiful,” he chokes out, his head tilting back as he takes his pleasure.
My hand lifts, trailing up his abs, over his sensitive nipples to graze his throat. He swallows thickly, his cock twitching and pulsing against his stomach.
With my cock in his ass, my hand on his throat, and my power coursing through the air that grazes his skin, I’m awestruck. Landon looks like a prince, all bathed in yellow light with his sweat-slicked skin and his pink lips.
Every orb around him highlights a new, perfect angle of his body, and I find myself lost for words as I watch him move, as his hips grind over my dick.
I wasn’t aware he liked my ability this much. Landon looks as if he’s coiled so tightly now that he might just come hands-free. His eyes keep popping open to stare at the twinkling lights, then sliding closed with a desperate exhale.
“More,” he pleads, his hands gripping my thighs tighter, our skin slick. “Nate, I need more.”
Of my cock or my power?
I’ll give him both. Right now, I’ll give him anything.
My hips roll into his, causing his breath to catch as the little orbs turn into something resembling bright, brilliant stars.
Light bathes over the room, over our naked bodies. A gift, just for him.
And Landon whines, his nails digging into me as he says, “Come, Nate. Come right now. Give me what I’ve earned.”
I called it back in that hotel room; he was right. Landon doesn’t need to be a top to dominate and crush a man, because as the words leave his mouth, his skin so beautifully flushed and illuminated, his eyes wide and awed by our surroundings, I unload into the condom.
Landon explodes, his cock shooting out spurts of his arousal without any stimulation as his eyes meet mine, his ass milking me thoroughly.
“Fuck, babydoll,” I snap, gripping his hips as the little stars floating around us shatter, sending sparks all over the room.
And as he’s coated in the falling light, his dick still spurting out streams of come, he collapses onto me, taking my mouth with his.
It’s bruising and hungry, his hands touching anywhere they can reach as he shudders and gasps against me. I lick into his mouth, basking in the taste of him as fervently as I can.
This will probably be the only time I get this chance, after all. And I’m starving for more of him, for more of this, of us, before I have to return to despising him completely.
“So, so good,” Landon praises, his lips tracing mine as he speaks.
The room around us grows dark, but his eyes are still so vibrant, so intoxicating that I can see them even still as he pulls back just enough to look at me.
And then that sweet look of awe and pleasure fades away with the last of my illusion, replaced by another sassy smirk.
“Not bad, old man,” he says.
Moment ruined.
Landon is taking a hot shower, steam rolling out from the cracked door of the bathroom as he hums softly to himself. Moments after we finished, with me disposing of the used condom and him stretching obscenely right in front of me, he demanded that I give him access to my facilities.
Using a wet washcloth for myself in substitution—because there is no way I’m showering with the fucker—I sit on the edge of my now dirty bedspread, grabbing my phone from my discarded pants pocket.
I need a distraction. I need literally anything that can pull me away from the daunting reality of how much I enjoyed that. How much I want to do it again.
Unfortunately, the distraction I get is not a pleasant one. A message from Calum came through a bit after I got home, this time on my personal phone. Which means whatever it is he has to say, he doesn’t want the organization to see it.
Calum 7:12 p.m.
C has flagged your gig. Be careful.
I eye the message, reading it for what it really means.
The council has marked my mission to repress Landon as a flight risk of sorts, something they have to keep an eye on and may have to intervene at any moment.
But I know them. Before they insert themselves, they’ll have me fail and then use it against me later. I have time.
I shoot back an affirmative, but despite what I know of the council, my heart is still pounding. The idea of them keeping an eye on Landon, on me, is nerve-wracking. If I want things to go smoothly, according to my own plan, I need Landon to lie low.
I have to protect him from them, even if it’s a means to an end. Even if it’s only so that I can break him later.
After I taste him a few more times. That’s not too much to ask, right? He’d let me—he wants it more than I do.
Then I’ll fucking destroy the self-absorbed brat.
Landon comes into the bedroom, the towel I gave him wrapped low around his waist, and my towel in his hand as he dries his hair.
I shove my phone under my pillow, eyeing him nervously.
How is he going to act now? Will he scream and punch and whine? Or will he act as if nothing happened?
“Watching porn?” is what he eventually says, dropping my towel to his side as he stares at my pillow in disinterest. “Was pounding my ass not good enough for you?”
I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “I was not watching porn.”