Chapter 47
Dmitri
Eric’s smile falters when I burst into the room. “Dmitri, what’s—” The words die as I grab his shirt and lift him off the chair. “D?”
Dishes clatter as I drag him past the table, his hip bumping the edge. Theo and Dante stare wide-eyed over their plates but Tai just chews with that familiar impish grin returning like he’s been waiting for this.
“Dmitri, stop. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I shake my head, hauling him up the stairs and into my room. Tension hums under my skin like electricity as I slam the door and throw him against it.
“Baby—” he tries again.
“Can I have you?” I interrupt, already shoving his shorts down his legs.
“Wh-what?”
My hand slips under his boxer briefs, sliding around his back to rub over his hole.
“I need you, Eric. Right now. Can I have you?” My fingertip presses inside, and I watch his face for hesitation, but find none.
Adoration and pure devotion stare back at me, laced with hunger that sinks claws into me.
“Of course, whatever you need,” he says, voice hitching as I work in a second finger, harder than I should. Control hangs by a fraying thread, and everything inside me is screaming for release. “You won’t break me, Dmitri. I can handle you.”
“Yeah?” I growl, wedging my thigh between his legs and thrusting my fingers deeper.
His head bobs in agreement, and my free hand wraps around his neck, squeezing until the skin indents under my grip. He moans, low and raw, and when I glance down, his cock is thick and swollen under his boxer briefs, pressing insistently against my leg.
He pushes into my hold, breath rasping as my palm digs into his windpipe. “Whatever you need, Dmitri. It’s yours. I’m fucking yours.”
My fingers slide free of him, and I guide him to the bed by his neck. “Get on all fours,” I command, shoving him toward the mattress. He starts to step out of his shorts, but I push him again. “Leave them on.”
Heat flares in his eyes as he climbs up, black fabric of his underwear pulled tight across his ass as he arches back toward me, shorts loose around his calves. I strip everything below my waist in seconds and climb up behind him.
“I need to fuck you,” I say, grinding against him. My cock slides between his cheeks, and the fabric scraping against my sensitive skin only makes me want it more. “And I need to be rough, but I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I can take it,” he swears, and it's on the edge of begging.
I lean forward and grip his chin, still too rough as I jerk his eyes to meet mine. “Don’t let me hurt you. Stop me before that happens. Promise me.”
He pushes back immediately. “I swear.”
My thumbs hook under the waistband of his boxer briefs and grip tight.
With a loud rip, I tear a hole in the black fabric and bare him completely.
“Such a pretty fucking hole,” I mutter, watching it flex and flutter, already hungry to be filled and clenching around nothing like it’s begging for my cock.
“Fuck,” he grunts as I thrust forward again, grinding my leaking dick against him and smearing pre-cum over his bare skin.
I grab the bottle of lube and squeeze hard, drenching us both in a thick, messy stream.
I slide two fingers inside him, the wet squelch loud in the room as I pump them deep, stretching him open.
A third finger joins, and his knuckles turn white as he grips the sheets.
He pushes back onto my hand like he can’t get enough.
“Brace yourself, because this won’t be gentle, and it won’t take long. I’m going to fuck you hard and fast.”
“Do it,” he begs. “Take it, Dmitri. Ruin me.”
I snarl as I notch myself at his hole. “Eric, never forget how much I love you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” he grunts as I push in, forcing past his tight rim.
“Good,” I breathe, pausing to run my fingertips up and down his spine and savoring the shiver that follows. “Because I’m about to fuck you like I hate you.”
He shouts, head whipping back as I snap forward and bury myself in a single, brutal thrust. My fingers clutch his shoulders as I pull almost all the way out.
“Hold on, baby.”
Each forceful punch of my hips jolts his whole body, even with my grip anchoring him.
My balls slap against his skin as I fuck him deep and relentless, relishing the tight squeeze and the broken gasps he loses every time he bounces back onto me.
Every drive forward pulls a greedy clench from his hole, like it can’t stand even an inch of separation.
“God, look at how good you take me,” I groan, mesmerized by the sight of our connection. “Do you want to see it? How your ass takes me?”
“Fuck,” he rasps, fists locked tight in the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping him grounded. “Yes, I want to see,” he finally grits out.
My hips keep slamming forward as I snatch my phone, open the camera, and hit record. Eric moans loud and wrecked as I slow just enough to let the lens catch every filthy detail of my cock glistening, stretching his hole wide on every deep pull-out and brutal plunge.
“Your ass was made for taking me, baby,” I growl.
“Fucking look at that. Underwear ripped open like my little slut, pants tangled around your ankles, greedy hole begging for my cum.” I speed up, pounding into him so hard his cheeks bounce and turn red from the force and the wet, filthy slap of skin echoes off the walls.
I stop the recording and toss the phone in front of him. “Watch it.”
He nods, frantic, fumbling to angle the phone and hit play. “Oh holy shit,” he moans, voice breaking as he watches himself get fucked.
“Keep watching,” I say as I lean over him, pushing his head down into the mattress and blanketing his body with mine.
I kick his knees wider, spreading him open, then I let go, fucking him in a punishing, relentless rhythm.
He reaches for his trapped cock, but I grab his wrists and pin them behind his back, holding him down.
He grunts as he falls forward, and I use his hands for leverage as I hold them captive. When I push on his back to arch him further, he moans again. “Fuck, right there.”
“Yeah? That’s how you want it?” Sweat drips down my face as I slam into him, every muscle vibrating as release coils low and tight at the base of my spine. He only grunts, and that’s not enough.
“I asked you a question, Eric,” I snarl as my open palm cracks sharp against his ass. The red handprint blooms instantly. “Is that how you want to come?”
“Yes,” he hisses, face half-pressed into the bed. The video sits frozen on the filthy frame of my slick cock halfway inside him. “Please, D.”
“You better get there,” I growl, “because I’m about to fill you with my cum. You’ll be so full of me you’ll smell like me for days.” We’re reduced to raw grunts and slapping skin, and my eyes roll back as I feel him clench tight around me.
“That’s it, baby,” I rasp. “Let them all hear you. Let them know you’re mine.”
My name rips from him in a shout that cracks into a sob as he pulses around me, his cock jerking hard inside the torn underwear.
I follow him over the edge, grunting curses as I slam deep and spill inside him.
The release hits so hard my muscles give out.
My hips keep flexing greedily, like they’re still trying to bury myself deeper.
Gasping for breath and completely drained, I sit back on my haunches and let my spent cock slip out of him.
He doesn’t move, just pants into the sheets.
He’s a filthy, gorgeous wreck—underwear torn open in the back, creamy cum seeping through the ruined fabric and dripping onto the bed in slow, thick streams. His ass cheeks glow red from the friction, my release leaking out in a mesmerizing trail that pools beneath him.
“God,” I croak, voice rough. “I should take a picture of this. You are completely and utterly wrecked.” I crawl up the bed, stretch out, and pull him over to lie against me.
A quiet chuckle slips out as he deadweights, letting me position him however I want.
He's soft and limp; perfect against my side.
“Did I break you?” I mumble.
He grunts and curls into me. “Drained. My balls are drained. I’m surprised they haven’t shriveled up into prunes yet.”
“There’s still time,” I tease.
He groans, shaking his head so his beard scratches my chest. “Listen, I’m going to need a recharge after that. My dick is on strike. It’s marching the picket line carrying a tiny little sign that says, ‘No Jizz Left.’”
Another chuckle rumbles through me as I hug him tighter. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
He shakes his head against my pecs. “No, but you ruined another pair of my underwear. That’s like four pairs now, Dmitri.
This is a problem we’re going to have to address.
Shit’s becoming chronic.” His smile presses into my skin as we both laugh, the sound light and easy, lifting the last of the weight.
He pulls back and guides my face to his. “Are you okay?”
I give him the gentlest kiss, slow and soft, a quiet contradiction to the savagery we just shared. “I am now.”