Chapter Seventeen #2
"Fuuuck!" I arch onto my toes, spine bowing like a live wire's hit it.
His tongue swirls the head, suction pulling me deep—glurk—throat relaxing around the shaft like he's starving for it.
No teasing, no mercy; he bobs hard, cheeks hollowing, one hand fisting my base to strip what his mouth can't reach.
Spit drips down my balls, my thighs quake, pleasure exploding white-hot up my spine.
Holy shit, he's good. Better than good—mind-melting, sloppy-wet heaven that has me thrusting shallow into his face, cursing his name like a prayer. My fingers scrabble at the wall, nails scraping paint. "You—fucking—hell."
My fingers claw into Donghwa's dark strands like they're my only lifeline, wrenching his head back just to shove him deeper the next second.
A guttural "Fuck!" tears from my throat as my hips snap forward on their own—instinct, reflex, whatever the hell this is—chasing the unbearable heat of his mouth.
Every wet slide of his tongue sends violent shudders through me, and I twist my grip tighter, my muscles taut as bowstrings.
"Jesus—fucking—" The words dissolve into a ragged groan when he hums around me, the vibration ratcheting up the pleasure until I'm shaking.
"Fuck—fuck—gonna—" The warning's barely out before it rips through me, fast and brutal, balls drawing tight.
I come with a choked yell, shaking like a live wire, vision spotting white as ropes of it pulse down his throat.
He doesn't even blink, the bastard—just keeps that infuriatingly calm expression while his throat works around me, swallowing me down like it's nothing.
His tongue drags along my length deliberately, coaxing out every last drop until I'm shaking apart, my legs barely holding me up.
My chest rises and falls like I've just run a marathon, sweat slicking my skin, and all I can do is grip his stupid perfect hair tighter as waves of pleasure crash through me.
The way he takes it all—like it's easy, like I'm not fucking wrecking him—only makes me tremble harder, my body strung tight and oversensitive.
Donghwa pulls off with a wet pop, standing slow. Those blown pupils lock on me, black as pitch, chest rising fast. I tremble harder—anticipation twisting low in my gut, cock already twitching back to life from the raw lust rolling off him in waves.
No time to brace. His arm snakes around my waist like a steel band, yanking me clean off my feet. I yelp, legs kicking air as he manhandles me down the hall, my pants still tangled at my ankles, dick flopping with every step.
"Put me—down, you prick!" I snarl, but it comes out breathy, useless.
He doesn't. Kicks open a door to a massive bedroom—all black sheets, black walls, minimalist bullshit that screams "trust fund edge lord"—and tosses me onto the bed like I'm a ragdoll.
I land on hands and knees, mattress dipping under my weight.
I flail, scrambling to sit up, get some goddamn control—
Too slow. Donghwa's shirt hits the floor. Pants next—two fluid motions, cock springing free, thick and flushed, already leaking. He snatches lube off the nightstand before my palms even hit the sheets.
His hands clamp my hips, yanking me back sharp. I pitch forward, face smacking the mattress, ass shoved high in the air like an offering. "Hey—fuck you!" I spit into the sheets, cheeks burning, hole clenching on nothing.
The cap snaps open. Cold lube splashes between my cheeks, shockingly slick.
I jolt, ass clenching on instinct, but Donghwa's got me spread wide—thumbs digging into the meat of my thighs, holding me open like he's inspecting a goddamn purchase.
His fingers drag slow circles around my clenched hole, the teasing pressure maddening, and I choke out a ragged, "W-wait—fuck—just—" before he shoves two thick fingers in without warning, knuckles-deep in one brutal thrust. The stretch burns.
He crooks them immediately, relentless, dragging over that spot that makes my vision whiten—like he already knows exactly how to wreck me.
I gasp, sharp and ragged, whole body locking up. "Sh-shit!" My hands fly back, gripping his wrists—iron under sweat-slick skin—but he doesn't budge. "Slow down, you fucking animal!"
He growls low, the sound vibrating straight through his fingers into me. "No slowing down. Hold still or I'll hold you down."
I pant into the mattress, the fabric muffling my pathetic moans as his fingers twist deeper, hitting that perfect spot with terrifying accuracy. Every drag of his knuckles sends electric shocks up my spine, my vision whiting out for a split second before the stars come crashing back.
"F-fuck—" I choke out, biting the sheets when he suddenly scissors his fingers, stretching me wider, the burn melting into something filthy and sweet that has my cock twitching, dripping fresh precum onto his black sheets.
My toes curl hard enough to cramp, my hips jerking forward like I can escape the sensation—or maybe chase it, because goddamn it, I can't stop moving, can't stop grinding back onto his hand like some desperate omega in heat.
"Asshole," I mutter into the mattress, but it comes out breathless, wrecked—and he just hums in response, the bastard, like he’s already won.
Then he pulls out—slick pop echoing in the room—and I whine, high and desperate, fisting the black covers till my knuckles ache. Empty. Aching. "Fuck—don't—"
His palm slams between my shoulder blades, right over the bond mark, pinning my chest flat to the bed. I can't move, can't breathe except in short, needy hitches. The blunt head of his cock nudges my hole—hot, thick, insistent—smearing lube and precum.
I freeze, pulse thundering in my ears. His weight settles over my back, breath scorching my neck.
The bond mark throbs under his palm like it's got a goddamn heartbeat of its own, syncing up with the frantic pulse hammering in my veins.
Then he thrusts.
No warning. No mercy. One brutal plunge, cock spearing me open, thick and scorching, bottoming out in a single claiming stroke that rips a raw cry from my throat.
"Fuuuck!" My vision whites out—nothing but blinding static and the sting of my own teeth gritting too tight. Every fucking inch of him burns going in, stretching me to the brink before retreating slow just to make me feel the drag all over again, veins catching on my rim in this sick game where I lose every round. And then—yes, no, too much—his blunt tip grinds straight into my prostate like he’s got GPS locked onto it, sparking fire down my legs, making me jerk and whine like he’s pulling the sound right out of me.
I claw at the sheets like they’ll save me, knuckles bone-white, ass clenching on instinct around the brutal invasion—but all it does is make him groan, deep and filthy, fingers biting harder into my hips like I’m just giving him more to work with.
And fuck, I am. Pinned. Spread. Owned. My body locks up, back arched like a bowstring when he bottoms out, pelvis flush against my ass, not an inch of space left between us.
Donghwa doesn’t give me the courtesy of breathing room.
No fucking way. The second I’m gasping, trying to adjust to the sheer size of him splitting me open, he rears back—pop—just to slam home again, hips snapping forward with a force that knocks the air from my lungs.
There’s no rhythm, no finesse—just pure rut-hazed dominance, piston-fast and punishing, each thrust jarring me up the bed with the wet slap of skin-on-skin, my own cock bobbing untouched and leaking between my thighs.
The sound alone is mortifying—the slick squelch of his cock plunging back in, the obscene thwack of his hips meeting my ass, our sweat-slick skin sticking and pulling with every brutal snap forward. My choked gasps? Meaningless white noise drowned out by the symphony of him wrecking me.
My head spins, pheromones crashing over me like a blizzard—sharp winter bite mixed with that inky heat, thick enough to choke on, frying my brain cells one brutal snap at a time.
I can't think, can't breathe, just feel: the brutal drag of him splitting me wide, veins pulsing against my rim, head grinding that spot until my cock leaks steady onto the sheets, untouched and throbbing like a traitor.
"Sh-shit—slow—fuck—" The words slur out, half-beg, half-curse, but my hips shove back anyway, greedy for the wrecking, chasing the filthy spark that coils tighter in my gut.
Humiliating. I'm a mess of sweat and slick, moaning like a bitch in heat while this brat owns me, grunting low over my shoulder, teeth grazing my ear.
His hand fists my hair, yanking my head back sharp.
Hot mouth latches onto my throat, sucking a bruise right over the bond scar.
"Mine," he snarls again, voice gravel-rough, hips stuttering faster—lost to it now, rut turning him feral.
I arch, spine bowing, nothing left but the pound-pound-pound of him railing me into oblivion, pleasure spiking vicious through the burn, toes curling as my balls draw tight.
Bone-jarring. Toe-curling. Every snap of his hips jolts me forward like a ragdoll, the bedframe rattling against the wall in protest. His cock drags merciless over that spot inside me—fuck—relentless, turning my vision to static.
I can't hold it back, don't even try anymore.
A whine rips from my chest, high and broken, straight-up bitch-in-heat pathetic as my whole body seizes.
I come untouched. Violent. Ropes of it splatter his fancy black comforter, my cock jerking wild, untouched pleasure ripping through me like a gut punch. Stars burst behind my eyelids, thighs quaking, ass clamping down on him like a vice as I milk every goddamn drop from myself.