Chapter 31 - Elias #2
His hand slams tighter on my waist, holding me flush, until my cock twitches traitorously under the spray.
“Brat,” he snarls, and before I can even suck in a breath, his fist tangles deep at my roots and yanks my head back.
Then his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is wet and rough, water pouring down our faces, steam burning around us. His lips crash against mine, his tongue shoves past my teeth like he’s punishing me for every chirp I’ve ever thrown. I choke on a gasp, clawing at the slick tile for balance as his mouth devours me.
It’s brutal. Ruthless. Perfect.
I try to poke again, but the sound dies in my throat when his tongue drags against mine, when his teeth catch my lower lip hard enough to make me yelp. He swallows the noise whole, pressing me tighter against the wall, his body sealing me in like the water itself is obeying him.
My knees give. He holds me up. One hand fisted tight in my curls, the other still crushing my waist, his mouth never letting me go. I’m panting into him, trembling under nothing but a kiss.
He pulls back just far enough to growl against my mouth, “Still feel like mouthing off, pup?”
And God help me, my lips twitch into a shaky grin.
“Yes, sir.”
His growl vibrates down my spine—low, lethal, promising disaster.
His grip in my hair jerks hard. My head snaps back, my body bends, and the next second I’m shoved down. Water crashes over me, steam blinding, my knees hitting slick tile with a sharp thud.
“Fuck—!” The sound rips out of me, half whine, half moan.
His hand stays fisted tight in my hair, keeping me low, making sure I don’t so much as think about moving. The spray pounds my shoulders, my back, hot water mixing with the sting of tile under my knees.
I blink up through the steam, curls plastered to my forehead, breath gone already—and Christ, he looks terrifying. One hand tight in my hair, the other braced heavy against the wall, caging me there.
“Mouthy little pup,” he rumbles. “On your knees where you belong.”
My lips part, a sound slipping free without my permission. My hands twitch on the wet floor, wanting to claw at his thighs, wanting to hold on. My cock’s already twitching, shameless, hard against my stomach.
He tilts his head “Open.”
I do. Instantly. Like I was built for it.
Steam swirls around us, water hissing louder, but I can only hear him—his breath, his growl, his command. My tongue flicks nervously across my lip, my eyes wid.
His thumb drags across my jaw, rough, slow, smearing water across my skin. “Good boy,” he murmurs. “Now let’s see if that mouth’s better for obeying than it is for running.”
I don’t even have time to protest before he’s in my mouth.
Brutal. Unyielding. Forcing me open until my jaw aches, until my throat works helpless around him. The steam fogs, water slams hot against my shoulders, and my nails scrape useless at the tile as he drives in deep.
“Fuck—” The muffled choke tears out of me, spit slick down my chin, water washing it away just to make room for more. His hand drags me against him like I’m nothing but a vessel for his cock.
“Better,” Damian growls above me, hips snapping sharp, relentless. “Much better.”
My eyes water instantly, heat burning down my throat, and Christ—I love it. I hate it. I need it. My whole body trembles under the spray, knees slipping on wet tile as he wrecks me without mercy.
“Good boy,” he rasps, thrusting harder, deeper, until I gag around him. His chest rumbles low, satisfied. “Take it. Take all of me. That’s your real job, isn’t it?”
I moan around him, shameless, tears spilling down my cheeks. My cock jerks against my stomach, leaking under the water. My whole body feels like it’s burning alive.
And then—fuck. My face goes nuclear.
Because I remember—Christ—the showers aren’t empty.
The boys. The whole goddamn team. A wall away. Chirping, laughing, still loud in the locker room. They’re right there.
The sound I make is high and wrecked, cheeks blazing so hot I think the steam’s coming from me. Damian doesn’t care. He leans over me, eyes blazing down through the fog.
“That’s it, pup,” he growls, hips driving hard enough to rattle my teeth. “Choke on it. Let them hear who you belong to.”
I whine, gagging and trembling, spit and water and tears mixing down my face. My whole body’s screaming, but I don’t stop. Can’t. Won’t.
Because even if the team is a wall away—even if Cole’s probably waiting to chirp me into the grave—I’m still here. On my knees. Taking it. Obeying him.
And I’d rather die than disappoint my Captain.
The steam’s choking me, the water’s pounding, my knees ache on slick tile—but none of it matters. Not when his cock is grinding down my throat like punishment and praise tangled into one.
I gag again, tears blurring my vision. My hands slip uselessly against the wall, scrabbling for balance, while his grip in my curls keeps me exactly where he wants me.
“Good boy,” Damian snarls, hips slamming harder. “Look at you—on your knees, choking, claimed.”
They’re right there, I remember again—the team, the vets, Cole. One wall away. My face burns so hot I could boil water on it.
And then suddenly—he pulls out.
The loss makes my throat convulse on a sob, spit dripping down my chin. I barely have time to blink up through wet lashes before his fist yanks my head back and—
Christ.
Heat paints my face. Hot, filthy, spilling across my cheeks, my lips, streaking down with the water. My mouth falls open on a broken gasp, cum and steam mixing as my lashes flutter.
“Fuck—Cap—” I whimper.
“Look at you,” he growls, looming above me, hand still locked in my hair. His eyes blaze down, mouth curling with a smile. “Wrecked. Ruined. Perfect.”
I can’t breathe. Not because of the water, not because of the mess streaking my face—but because I know. I know. One step into the locker room and the boys would see me glowing like this, dripping with his mark.
The sound I make is high, humiliating, perfect. My thighs twitch against the tile, cock aching, and my whole body trembles under his shadow.
“Good boy,” Damian murmurs again, softer now, thumb dragging slow through the slick on my jaw.
I whimper, lips parting, eyes wide and glassy as I whisper out the only thing I can manage.
“Yes, sir.”
His grip eases just enough to haul me upward. My knees slip on the tile, body trembling as he drags me off the floor, and then—Christ—his mouth crashes down on mine.
Filthy. Desperate.
The kiss is all heat and spit and steam, water pouring down our faces as his tongue forces past my lips, claiming every sound I try to make.
My body folds into his without a fight, without a thought.
I’m clinging to him instantly—hands clutching his shoulders, nails scraping wet skin, chest pressed tight against the steel of him.
I can taste him everywhere—on my lips, on my tongue, smeared across my face until the kiss just mixes it deeper. My cock twitches helplessly between us, leaking against his stomach, but I don’t care. All I can think about is his mouth on mine, his growl in the back of his throat.
“Good boy,” he breathes against my mouth between kisses, his words rough and tender all at once. “Always my good boy.”
I groan into him, clinging tighter, like if I let go I’ll slide down the tile and never get back up. My curls are plastered to my forehead, my face is burning, but none of it matters. Not when he’s kissing me like this—like I’m his whole goddamn world.
“Sir—” I gasp when he finally lets me breathe, lips raw, lungs shaking. “Don’t stop—please—”
His forehead presses to mine, thumb smearing wet across my jaw. His other hand slides down, heavy on my back, locking me to him.
“Never,” he murmurs, low and certain, kissing me again, slower this time but no less wrecking. “I’ll never stop, pup.”
And I cling. Hard. Arms hooked tight around his neck, my body trembling against his, my mouth chasing his like I’ll drown if I lose it for even a second.
“Cap…”
Cole’s voice carries through the hiss of water, muffled by steam and tile but clear enough that my whole body locks up.
I freeze. Every muscle tightens. My lips are still pressed to Damian’s, my breath ragged, my cock hard, but my stomach drops straight to the floor.
Damian doesn’t even flinch. His growl rumbles through me, low and lethal, lips brushing mine as he doesn’t stop kissing me.
“Unless you want to be on your knees too,” he snarls, his mouth swallowing the gasp I make, “with a different ending, Vance…” His tongue drags across my lips, claiming me deeper, harder. “…I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”
My eyes fly wide, scarlet all the way down my chest. My nails dig into his shoulders, clinging tighter as his kiss eats me alive.
The silence after stretches, almost unbearable.
And then—Cole cackles. A high, nervous laugh that echoes off the tile. “Copy that, Cap!”
Water hisses louder. His footsteps scuff. Then the shower next stall over shuts off with a squeak.
I slump against Damian, mortified, groaning into his chest. “Oh my god…”
He smirks against my mouth, thumb dragging through my soaked curls, eyes glinting like a wolf who just scared off prey.
“Focus on me, pup,” he murmurs, kissing me again, slow and filthy. “Not him.”
My whimper echoes off the tile, my whole body still burning like fire.