Chapter 10 - Damian
God, he’s beautiful.
A feral little thing—reckless, untrained, but open in a way that makes my chest tight. He hasn’t stopped giving me everything since the moment I pinned him to the wall. Every yes, sir has been instinct. Automatic. Like his bones know I own him.
And now, tied and trembling, he looks wrecked enough to break—and desperate enough to burn alive for me.
So I don’t give him what he wants.
Not yet.
I sit back on my heels between his legs, watching him. My cock is hard, aching, but I wrap my hand around it slow, deliberate, dragging the first stroke up my length with a low groan.
Elias’s breath hitches sharp. His gaze locks onto me, pupils blown wide. He jerks against the sheets, wrists straining, but the knots hold.
“Sir—” his voice cracks, high and desperate, “please, please don’t—”
I smirk. “What? Don’t make you watch me?” My fist twists, knuckles tight around the head, precum slicking down my hand. I drag the sound out, let it echo through the room. “Don’t make you see what you’re begging for?”
His hips snap up off the bed uselessly, cock straining in the air, untouched.
“Fuck—fuck—” His eyes flick helplessly from my shaft to my face, back again, like he doesn’t know where to land. “Don’t do this, don’t—just fuck me, please, I’ll do anything—”
My fist pumps faster. My jaw clenches, a groan ripping from deep inside me as I lean back, showing him every inch of what he’s not getting. My gaze pins him where he writhes, watching him fall apart just from looking.
“You look so fucking pretty like this,” I rasp, hand slick on my cock. “Tied up, begging, watching me touch myself while you can’t. You don’t even know how ruined you are, do you, pup?”
Elias whines. High, desperate, obscene. “Captain—I can’t—I need it—I need you—I’m begging—fuck, I’m begging so bad—”
God. He doesn’t even know how good he is at it. Doesn’t know how perfect he looks with his wrists tied and his voice broken.
I slow my hand, dragging the strokes out, cruel and steady, every drop of precum gleaming in the candlelight. His pupils are blown, locked on me, throat working around the sound he’s trying to swallow.
“Say it,” I growl. “Say exactly what you want.”
He thrashes again, wrists tearing at the sheets. His face burns red, curls sticking to his forehead, but he still gives it to me.
“Fuck me, Captain. Wreck me. Make me yours.”
My cock pulses hard in my fist, a groan tearing out of me as I watch him beg. My jaw ticks, every nerve wired with restraint I’m not sure I can hold much longer.
God, he’s beautiful when he begs.
I let my fist slide off, slick with precum, and lean forward until the head brushes his hole. Just barely.
Elias gasps, body jolting like I shocked him. His wrists yank against the sheets, legs spread wider, every muscle pulled tight with need. His eyes are wild, burning, pleading.
“Sir—” His voice is cracked, hoarse. “Please—just—”
I push in. Slow. Just the tip, stretching him open enough to make his mouth drop, a desperate sobs spilling out.
And then I pull out.
His back arches off the mattress. “No—no, fuck—”
I snarl, pressing the head against him again. A tease. A taste. Enough to make him believe—before I drag it out and leave him empty again.
“Captain—” His voice is high, broken, shameless now. “Don’t—don’t do this, I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll be so good for you—”
“Already are,” I rasp, leaning down, pressing my chest to his. “But my boys know patience.”
He thrashes against the knots. His lashes shine wet, his mouth falling open.
“I can’t—I can’t—I need it, I need you inside, I need—”
I slam forward half an inch, sharp enough to knock the air out of him. He screams, a raw sound that tears straight from him.
Then I stop. Hold. Let him feel the stretch, the promise. My stare pins him to the bed while I twitch inside him, shallow, denying.
“You’ll breathe for me,” I growl, hand wrapping tight around his throat, thumb pressing his chin up. “You’ll beg for me. And you’ll learn what desperate feels like.”
Elias cries, tears slipping hot down his temple, body straining. “Sir—fuck, I’m begging—I’ll say anything, I’ll do anything, just fuck me—”
I slide out. The emptiness hits him like a blade. He chokes, body jerking, throat straining against my hand.
My cock hard enough to split me in half, every nerve screaming to bury myself in him and never stop. But I drag it out—push in, pull out, over and over, never enough. Just enough to ruin him.
“Beg filthier, pup,” I snarl against his mouth, pressing shallow again. “Make me believe you deserve it.”
His words tumble out wrecked and shameless. “I’ll crawl for you—I’ll get on my knees in front of the whole team—I’ll—fuck, I’ll let them see you split me open, I don’t care, I just want you inside—sir, please—”
Christ. My restraint snaps another notch. My my jaw grinds, every part of me wired to claim him until he can’t say anything but mine.
His words crack me wide open. The rookie is asking to be fucked in front of his whole team, throat straining under my hand, and it’s enough to make me snap.
But not the way he expects.
I growl low, deep, and rip my hand from his throat only to tear at the knots binding his wrists. Rope drops loose, his arms falling limp to the bed. He blinks up at me, dazed, dragging air like he doesn’t understand why I’d set him free.
“Up,” I command, fist curling tight in his curls before he can catch a breath. I drag him upright, swing his body until his knees hit the carpet.
He lands hard, gasping, arms shaking too much to catch himself. His eyes snap up, green and wide, lips already parted. His cock bobs desperate between his thighs, untouched.
“Open.”
The word cracks like a whip.
His mouth falls wider instantly, a sound caught at the back of his throat. Curls hang wild around his face, sweat sticking them to his skin.
I fist the base of my length, precum slicking the head, and drag it across his lips. Slow. Smearing. Watching the way his jaw trembles, the way his ribs tremble like he’s choking already.
“You wanted me inside?” I rasp, pushing forward just enough to press against his tongue. “Then take it, pup. Be useful.”
He moans, sound muffled around the thick head filling his mouth. His throat works, gagging once before he swallows, desperate to take more. His hands fly up, clumsy, trying to grip my thighs for balance.
I don’t let him.
I tangle one hand in his hair, hold him firmly, and drive deeper. His eyes go wide, tears springing as I force myself down his throat. His nails claw at my skin, not to stop me—just to hold on.
“Breathe,” I command, pushing until his lips are flush with my base, his nose crushed against my stomach. He chokes, throat spasming, spit leaking from the corners of his mouth. I pull him back, slow, let him gasp one ragged breath—then shove back in.
Over and over. Shallow, then deep, then all the way until his vision blurs. His body rocks with every thrust, drool soaking his chin, gagging sounds sharp in the small room.
And through it all—he’s looking at me.
Eyes glassy, throat full, tears cutting hot down his cheeks. Drowning and thriving in the same breath.
“You belong to me,” I growl, the tip hitting the back of his throat again, harder. “Every inch of you. Every sound. Every breath.”
He moans around me, loud, broken, the vibration sending fire ripping up my spine. My grip tightens in his hair, dragging his head back so he can look up at me while I fuck his mouth raw.
“My good fucking boy,” I rasp through clenched teeth, hips snapping forward.
His voice is so wrecked I almost lose it.
I keep him there—on his knees, throat stuffed full of me, curls tangled in my fist, tears slicking his flushed face. Every gag rattles down my spine like lightning. Every whimper vibrates through me until I’m biting back a snarl.
But I don’t let him finish me. Not yet.
I yank him back just enough that my length drags wetly from his throat, spit snapping in strings between us. He gasps, broken, lips swollen and raw.
“Touch yourself.”
I tighten my grip, tilt his head back until his throat is bared, until his mouth stays open and trembling around the head of me. “Now. Or I’ll stop.”
A desperate sound claws out of him, high and feral. His hand scrambles down, fumbles between his thighs, finds himself. The second his palm wraps around his length, he whines. Loud. Sharp. Shameless.
I shove back into his mouth.
He keens, gagging, hips bucking forward against his fist. He’s choking and stroking at once, gagging around me while his own hand pumps like he can’t choose which is killing him faster.
Drool runs down his chin, slicking my shaft, soaking his chest. His thighs tremble, muscles jerking, everything in him unraveling.
“That’s it, pup,” I growl, dragging him off and slamming back down. “Be good for me. Show me what you look like when you ruin yourself for your captain.”
His curls stick to his wet cheeks, his fist is a blur between his thighs. I don’t let him breathe more than a second at a time. In. Out. Back down his throat. Gag. Choke. Stroke.
He’s wrecked. Absolutely destroyed. And I don’t stop.
“Don’t you fucking come until I tell you.
” He tries to nod around me. Fails. Chokes.
Cries harder. His hand trembles but doesn’t stop, his cock flushed red, dripping into his palm.
He’s so close I can feel it—the way his whole body is wound like a wire, vibrating against my thighs, imploring with every motion.
I drag him off, fist tight in his hair, spit and precome painting his chin. His chest heaves, lips raw, tears cutting streaks down his ravaged face.
“Beg for it.”
“Please, sir—I can’t—I need you—let me—”
I shove back into his throat, cut him off with a brutal thrust. “Come, pup. Show me how much of a mess you can make choking on me.”
And he does.