Chapter 4 Kallum
KALLUM
He trembles so beautifully.
Looking up at me with his pale throat bared to my predatory nature, lips parted in something between terror and lust, he’s too delicious not to enjoy. It’s intoxicating. He fights against my shadows, but weakly, as though his body already knows what this mind may refuse to accept—he belongs to me.
Shadows coil around his limbs, flexing, shifting, teasing.
They know my desire before I speak it, caressing him in ways that make him pant.
So sensitive, my Little Nightmare. His hardened length jerks beneath the ministrations of my shadows.
A wicked smile curls my lips as I grip his jaw, tilting his face even higher toward the sky.
Those wide, panicked eyes drink me in, trying to make sense of what stands before him.
He swallows hard. I feel it beneath my fingertips.
“Cat got your tongue?” My voice is velvet and razor wire, meant to wrap around his throat and squeeze. “Or do I have to take it from you?”
A shudder racks his frame, and fuck, I feel it everywhere.
My cock aches, pulsing against the seam of my jeans as I drink in the delicious little tremors rolling through him.
I could snap him in half. Rip him apart.
Make him beg for mercy or ruin him so thoroughly he forgets what the world even means.
But no. Breaking him would be too easy. No, I want something better. I want to watch him break himself for me.
My shadows slither up his sides, tracing the sharp angles of his ribs through his thin shirt, reminding him that even when I’m not touching him, I am.
My power seeps into his skin, molding around his frame.
He whimpers as they tighten around his waist and legs but release his wrists, securing him, yet keeping him open for me.
“Please,” his voice a desperate cry.
“I love it when you beg.”
His jaw clenches. He wants to resist, to keep himself from falling any further, but the fight is slipping from him.
I can see it—the way his lashes flutter, the way his cock strains against the open seam of his pants, red and leaking.
I haven’t pulled his length from his pants, he hasn’t earned my skilled touch, not yet at least. He’s drowning in me, and he doesn’t even know how to swim.
“Now take my cock out and suck it like a pretty boy, and maybe I’ll reward you for your obedience.”
He hesitates, his fingers trembling as they brush over my waistband. He’s fighting himself, wrestling with the last vestiges of defiance that flicker in his dark, storm-tossed eyes. I drag my knuckles along his jaw, watching as his breath stutters. “Go on, pet. You know you want to taste my sin.”
His throat works around a swallow, and then, slowly, he gives him.
His hands carefully undo the button in my jeans then pull both sides so the bronze teeth of the zipper separates and my cock falls out of its denim prison.
His eyes widen as my lips curl upwards. He may see my punishing girth and be afraid.
But if I have my way, I will make sure he is rewarded.
A smirk curves my lips. “Something wrong?”
He swallows, shaking his head. My shadows coil around his wrists and lace through his fingers, guiding him to wrap his hand around me.
He struggles to encompass my full girth.
The sight of his smaller hand trying to take control makes my blood burn.
My grip tightens in his hair just enough to make him gasp.
“Good, Little Nightmare,” I murmur, watching the way those two little words shatter whatever scraps of resistance he had left. He falls to his knees, ready to worship his master.
“Now take me in. Let me feel that pretty mouth of yours.”
I stroke my fingers through his hair, watching the way he leans into me. His tongue flicks out, tentative, a brush of warmth against my aching length. Then he takes me in, inch by slow, torturous inch.
A low groan rumbles from my chest. He’s untrained, messy, but gods, he’s eager.
That’s what matters. He shudders as I push deeper, my shadows flexing around his wrists, his waist, his throat.
His body tilts toward me, drawn in like a moth to the flame, knowing it will burn but unable to resist the heat.
He takes me halfway and shudders. A loud noise slips from him, something between a gasp and a whimper.
And it’s delicious. I look down and see his cock straining in his pants, and I want to reach for it.
My shadows grasp his cock through his pants, making my little pet whimper more until I can feel precum leaking through the fabric.
I let him work, let him struggle to take more and drown in the act of submission.
And then, just as he finds a rhythm, I pull back sharply, letting my length slip from his swollen lips. His eyes are shut tight, his spit glistens on my dick, a string of it still connecting us before breaking. His cheeks are flushed, lips red and parted in confusion, in loss.
I slap my cock against his cheek, reveling in the way he gasps and the way his spit bubbles up on his cheek. He looks so good covered in me.
“Eyes on me,” I demand as I grip his chin, forcing him to look up. “I want to see your face when you take all of me.”
He hesitates.
“Now.”
A sharp inhale, and then he obeys. His gaze meets mine, glassy and desperate. My shadows flex, teasing along his throat, his arms, and his waist, drinking in the way he gasps at the contact.
“See?” I whisper, tilting my head. “You need to be a good little pet and suck your master down.”
His mouth works me over again, now more eager and desperate.
His tongue traces every inch of me as though worshiping something he never thought he’d be allowed to touch.
My shadows coil tighter, gripping his cock through his pants, teasing him with pressure that builds until he’s gasping around me and his throat vibrates with muffled moans.
The moment shatters. A groan tears from my throat as I spill deep inside him, my grip tightening in his hair, holding him there as he swallows every drop. He moans, raw and broken, as his own release takes him, his cum soaking through his clothes, marking him as surely as my shadows do.
I pull back, slow and deliberate, watching as he gasps for air, his lips red and glistening, his pupils blown wide.
A tremor still racks his body, his chest rising and falling with the aftershocks.
I reach down, wiping a trail of spittle from the corner of his mouth, my touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.
He did so well. Better than I ever imagined. I have waited for years to take him, and now that I have had him, I’m never letting him go. He’s mine.
His lashes flutter as he stares up at me, dazed, wrecked, and utterly mine.
I lean in to press a final, possessive kiss to his swollen lips, tasting myself on his tongue. When I pull away, I smirk and cup his chin between my fingers.
“I’ll see you soon, Little Nightmare.”
I disappear into the night, leaving him kneeling in the forest, ruined and irrevocably bound to me.