12. CHAPTER TWELVE
I'm sick of him denying that there's nothing more to this. I will beat it out of him.
I tear the belt from the loops of my trousers, and how I don't bust the seams, I’ve no idea—but fuck him. If he thinks he needs this, then I’ll give him the whole damn package.
Jude twitches when I slam the buckle down beside his head, and he turns away in disgrace because this shit has got his father written all over it.
“Don't cower away now. You're the one who thought you could take me on."
Another pathetic whine comes from deep within him, so I force his face against the desktop as hard as I can, and hold him there until it feels like his skin is burning my hand.
I push his head away, and ask, "What's this really about, Jude?" Then walk to stand behind him. "I asked you a question."
I give him another five seconds, then reach for the belt—allowing its buckle to slide along the desktop before picking it up.
I wrap half the leather around my bare hand then drag the cool metal over the back of his legs. “What is this about?”
He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, so I whip the outside of his thigh with the belt buckle.
With a jolt, his back curves and his ass pushes off the desk.
“Tell me, Jude?”
He settles back into position, and I strike him again.
He holds a pained cry inside his mouth.
I repeat myself until his legs and ass are covered in thick, red welts. And when he still refuses to answer, I start on his calves.
“I am impressed. But I'm even more disappointed.”
I drop the belt back by his head and spit on the knuckles of my middle and fore fingers. Curling them, I rub them around the rim of his already loosened hole.
His mouth opens, and his nails claw at the desk.
I twist my wrist back and forth, drilling my knuckles deeper. And the mother fucker moans.
I lean down and spit directly on him.
With three straight fingers, I enter him again and immediately start pumping as fast as I did before.
Breathy gasps are all that come out as Jude’s chin quivers like he’s trying to speak, but has forgotten how.
I pull out, curl my fingers, then push against his rim with my knuckles until they slip inside, then tear them straight back out again.
“Fuck!”
“So you can talk?”
He remains stubborn, and after allowing at least ten seconds of silence to pass, I drop my cock between his cheeks and push my balls against his asshole.
He pushes back, and I can feel him puckering against my sack.
I shudder, and chastise myself for it.
Taking the belt again, I lean over him to wrap it around his neck. Then I feed it through the buckle so it's like a leash, and pull it taught as I straighten out.
“You have two choices. You either answer my next question. Or you can stand up and put an end to all this… But only one way will end with my cum inside you.”
Jude stretches his arms above his head and grips the opposite end of the desk.
I tug harder on the belt until I hear him wheeze.
"Are you really that sick of a fuck that you get off on thoughts of your father doing this to you?“
“No.” I can barely hear him. “It wasn’t.”
“Not good enough—“
Jude slams his fist on the desk. “I—“, he gasps for breath. “I did what you said.“
I release the belt, and Jude’s head drops to the table.
I step back, grip just below the head of my cock, and push into Jude’s ass.
His back arches and his shoulders rise from the desk.
The feeling of my crown being sucked inside by his tightness has me hunching forward as well.
Hands beside Jude’s hips, I drive forward with no regard for him because it feels too fucking good. But that’s the point, isn’t it? He wanted me to lose control.
Drawing back, I slam into him again and the desk screeches along the floor.
This time he cries out, but I wrap both hands around his mouth and use it as leverage.
His moans vibrate against my hands.
“Fuck,” I groan—my head falling back limply. “Why do you feel so good?”
It was supposed to be rhetorical, but he grabs my hands and pries them away from his mouth.
“Because—” He coughs and clenches around me.
It’s too much.
I let go of him completely and pull out.
“Put it back in,” he mumbles down towards the desk.
I run my fingers up from Jude’s taint, then grip the back of his neck.
I glance down to line myself up, but—just as much a whore for me as I am for him—he reaches back, grabs my hips with both hands, and impales himself on my cock.
“Goddamn it,” I grunt—linking my arms under his to grip the front of his shoulders and pull him back against my chest. Locked between me and the desk, Jude has no choice but to stand there and take my pace as I drill into him with all my strength.
The sound of wet skin slapping increases.
Weak sobs mix with lustful whines.
The damage is done.
I could do anything to him now.
I reach for his cock.
His head falls back onto my shoulder.
“It’s… It’s you… You.”
“I know, baby.” I flatten my hand to his chest.
“No… You… It’s…” he struggles between my jarring thrusts. “It was you… It is you.”
Slowing down but never stopping, I turn his face towards me. His eyes are drunk and his lips are red from where he's been biting them. “Fuck you look beautiful,” I tell him, then lick across his jaw to his mouth. “It’s you too, baby.”
Jude’s lips graze over mine as I bring power back to my thrusts. And I can feel them moving, trying to speak. Trying to hold it together.
“Come on, you can do it,” I tease, pounding into him even harder on his next attempt at forming words.
He bares his teeth, but the snarl he attempts is pathetic.
“At least I know how to shut you up. If you annoy me too much, I’ll just fuck you dumb and we both win.”
A shaky hand reaches back to grab onto my hair, and his body slouches further.
His other hand offers minimal support on the desk, but he refuses to allow his head to leave my shoulder.
“It's about you, Curren… That’s my answer.”
I slow to a stop; my temples pulsing.
I hold my breath, not sure how to react. Unsure if I even understand him correctly.
Slipping free from his warmth, I spin him around.
Jude slumps back on the desk, and his hands fall behind him for balance. “More.”
“Say it again.”
“Not till you give me more.” Leaning back on his elbows, Jude lifts his heels onto the desk.
I grip his hips and pull him into position. “Look at me.”
I watch as Jude’s eyes linger a moment longer between his legs, then rake up my torso to finally meet mine.
I press the head of my cock back against him. “I wanna see how I feel.” His eyelids flutter and struggle to stay open as I sink back inside him. “Now say it again.”
He reaches for me.
I wrap both arms around his back and lift his chest to mine.
“It was you.”
“Say it again.”
“It was you.”
“Fuck,” I keen, ploughing into him faster with each thrust. “Again!”
“Everything has always only ever been about you— ah ,” he moans—all pleasure; one arm falling limp as the other drapes around my shoulders.
“It started in Juvie. I’d imagine you as a man…
How tall you’d be… How strong… How much you could hurt me…
I’d imagine Dad sitting in the corner instead of me, forced to watch you cover me in bruises so he could see that my pain never belonged to him. ”
Goddamn.
“You own me as well,” I tell him. “You always have. I’ll do anything to keep you safe. Anything. I’ll destroy this entire city if it means you’ll be the one person left untouched.”
"It's my job to keep you safe."
"Jude—"
"Now I can do it properly."
"But you always did."
“Please don’t leave me.”
“I won’t. I— holy fuck!”
Jude throws his legs around me, clings to my neck with both arms, and tightens every muscle in his body.
When I draw back, I gasp at the squeeze he has on me.
“Up… Up…”
I do my best to drive up into him.
“More… Please… You’re so close.”
Bending my knees, I ram my cock as high and deep into him as I can.
“Yes! Fuck! Don’t stop… Don’t stop.”
The look on his face is tortured bliss. His eyes have lost focus and his neck is weak.
“Beat me.” It’s so soft, like a cloud, and I pretend I didn’t hear it. “Please… I need it.”
Any normal person would refuse. But that's just the thing. We aren’t normal. We’re fucked up kindred spirits made for each other.
My first punch lands on his ribs. Then I rain my fist down all over his back—wherever I can reach.
Jude cries out, thanking me with every blow.
Silent weeps wrack his body in between the screams.
I'm honored to do it.
He deserves this.
I’m going to hunt down his parents and bring back their heads.
“I’m close.” Jude’s body tenses again. I stop hitting him and hold the back of his head. “I need you to fuck me as hard as you can.”
I slam him on the table—our arms still around each other; his legs like a vise.
“Fuck… Curren… Fill me up.”
“Let go, baby. Close your eyes and let me take you away.”
He relaxes, convulses, then goes limp.
A new wetness marks our stomachs.
I can feel his dick pulsing against my abs.
I reposition; stand, and hold up his legs.
I pull him towards me with each thrust.
I am all powerful.
I hate myself.
I love Jude.
Only he can understand.
I feel weightless as I fill Jude’s ass, and I continue pumping until I'm forcing my cum back out again.
I pull out, and drip on the floorboards as I get Jude's phone.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
With a smirk, I ignore him and swipe open the camera. Then I film my cum slowly trickling out of him to pool on the desk.