Chapter Two #5
Hongjoong curses behind me, a sharp exhale followed by a low “fuck” that sounds undone.
Then I hear the rapid sounds of clothing being stripped off.
The rustle of a shirt being pulled over his head, the clink of a belt buckle, the soft thud of pants hitting the floor.
I glance over my shoulder and catch a brief flash of an elaborate tattoo sprawling up Hongjoong’s right side and across his ribs, dark ink against tanned skin, before he’s on the bed behind me and the heat of his body radiates against my skin like a furnace.
The blunt head of Hongjoong’s cock presses against my hole, hot and slick and impossibly thick, and I tense in preparation.
His pheromones roll over me in a concentrated wave now that there’s barely any space between us, so dense my head goes fuzzy, and my body answers.
More slick leaks out of me, dripping down my inner thighs, and my cock twitches and fills heavier between my legs, hanging stiff and aching where I’m spread open on my knees.
Hongjoong grips himself at the base and drags the head of his cock back and forth through the mess of slick between my cheeks, coating himself in slow deliberate passes, the fat crown catching against my rim on every stroke and sending sparks up my spine.
I can hear how wet I am, the squelching sound of him sliding through it, and I grit my teeth and hold my position.
“Brace,” Hongjoong says behind me, his voice low and rough, the playfulness gone. “I can’t hold back right now.”
Then he pushes in.
“Fuck—” The word rips out of me into the mattress, muffled, my whole body straining as his cock forces me open.
The stretch is brutal despite how wet I am, the sheer girth of him splitting me apart, my vision whiting out at the edges, and pain shoots up my spine in a bright hot line that has my fingers fisting the sheets until my knuckles go bloodless.
My back arches involuntarily, spine curving as my body tries to accommodate him, tries to make room for something that feels like it shouldn’t fit, and I bite down on my lower lip until the taste of copper floods my mouth.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and I squeeze them shut, breathing harshly through my nose.
Hongjoong doesn’t stop. He keeps pressing in with a steady, relentless pressure, one continuous push that doesn’t pause or ease up, and I can feel every inch of him sinking deeper, stretching me wider, my walls clenching and fluttering uselessly around the intrusion.
He groans against my back, his arm wraps around my front, forearm bracing across my stomach to hold me up and keep me from collapsing flat under the weight of him.
His grip is the only thing keeping my trembling knees from giving out entirely.
He bottoms out with a final push that knocks the air from my lungs, his hips flush against my ass, cock buried so deep inside me that I swear I can feel the pressure of it behind my navel, a fullness so complete it borders on unbearable.
For a moment, we’re both still. My body is shaking, fine tremors running through my thighs and up through my stomach, and I can feel my pulse hammering in my throat and in my hole where it’s stretched tight around the base of him.
Hongjoong’s face presses between my shoulder blades, his forehead hot against my spine, and his breath comes in pants that dampen my skin.
He stays like that, giving me time, his arm still locked around my middle, and I focus on breathing, on unclenching my jaw, on letting my body soften around him instead of fighting the intrusion.
The pain doesn’t disappear, but it shifts, the sharp edge of it dulling into a deep ache that starts to blur with a hotter and more urgent feeling that pulses through me every time my walls clench involuntarily around his cock.
My trembling changes quality, less pain and more of a full-body vibration that I can feel in my teeth, and when I exhale and consciously relax my muscles I feel my hole loosen just enough that the ache becomes a throb becomes a need.
Hongjoong must feel it because he starts to move.
He pulls back slowly, his cock dragging against my walls, and the friction lights up every nerve ending I have.
I can feel the ridge of his crown catching against the sensitive tissue inside me, can feel the thick shaft sliding through the tight grip of my body, and then he drives back in with a snap of his hips that seats him deep again and the sound spills out of me helplessly.
A moan, open-mouthed and desperate, pressed into the pillow where my face is turned.
He pulls back and does it again, harder, and I whimper, my fingers twisting tighter in the sheets.
My hips start rocking back on their own, pushing back to meet his thrusts, fucking myself onto his cock with a greedy rolling motion.
My body wants more even as the stretch still burns, wants him deeper and harder, and I can hear myself making sounds I haven’t made in years, breathy desperate noises that I’d be embarrassed about if I had any capacity left for embarrassment.
“Fuck,” Hongjoong hisses behind me, and his rhythm picks up to match mine, his hips snapping forward as I push back, the impact of our bodies meeting filling the room with a wet slapping sound that’s filthy and loud.
His hands roam down my sides, palms dragging over my ribs, fingers tracing the dip of my waist before gripping the jut of my hipbones, and then one hand slides underneath me and cups my cock where it’s hanging stiff and leaking between my legs.
His thumb finds the head and rubs through the slick bead of precum gathered at my slit, smearing it in a slow circle, and I writhe against the mattress, clenching hard around him.
Hongjoong groans, his mouth pressing hot against the shell of my ear, his breath fanning across my skin as he speaks. “Fuck, Jae. Your hole’s so fucking tight on my cock.”
The old pet name is like a sucker punch to the chest.
Jae. No one’s called me that in years.
My whole body locks up. Emotion and arousal crash together inside me, and I clamp down around Hongjoong’s cock so tight that he growls behind me and snaps his hips harder in response.
The force of the next thrust drives him directly against my prostate, and I cry out as I come.
Untouched now, Hongjoong’s hand having fallen away from my cock to grip my hip, I spill onto the sheets beneath me in hot pulses, my hole clenching in waves around the thick shaft still buried inside me, my thighs shaking so hard my knees nearly slide apart on the mattress.
Hongjoong swears through gritted teeth, and his hand finds the back of my neck, and he pins me down against the mattress, his palm heavy and firm against my nape.
His hips stutter, the smooth rhythm breaking apart into an uneven and desperate pounding, and I feel his cock start to swell at the base.
I fist the sheets and bite back the sob that tries to claw its way out of my throat as his knot expands inside me, forcing me wider in a slow relentless stretch that makes my vision blur and my ears ring.
The pressure builds and builds, my rim straining around the growing swell of it, and I’m shaking so hard my teeth are chattering, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes into the pillow.
It crests with a wet click as the widest part of the knot pushes past my rim and locks into place, sealing us together, and the sudden fullness is so intense that my breath leaves me in a whine.
Hongjoong spills inside me in hot, thick pulses, his cock twitching deep, and I can feel every surge of it flooding me, filling me up until the pressure in my belly is almost too much.
His hips grind forward in small involuntary motions, working himself through it, his chest heaving against my back and his hand still gripping the back of my neck.
We stay like that, locked together and trembling, for what feels like a long time.
Hongjoong’s breathing gradually slows against my spine, the frantic pace of it evening out, I can feel his heartbeat hammering where his chest is pressed to my back, fast at first and then steadily decelerating.
“Fuck,” Hongjoong says softly, the word barely more than an exhale against my skin.
Then he shifts carefully, moving with a deliberateness that tells me he’s trying not to jostle the knot, and maneuvers us both onto our sides.
He takes his weight off me but stays pressed close, his cock still buried deep, the knot holding us together with a fullness I can feel in every part of my body.
My legs are still trembling and there’s a dull ache radiating through my hips and lower back, but the worst of the pain has faded into a heavy soreness that I know from experience will settle into something manageable by morning.
I feel Hongjoong’s hand move from my neck to my lower back, his palm warm and broad, and he starts rubbing slow circles into the tight muscles there. The touch is surprisingly gentle for someone who was just pinning me to the mattress.
“You alright?” he asks, his voice still rough but quieter now. “You were clamping down really hard at the end there.”
I press my cheek into the pillow and close my eyes. “I’m fine. It just burns a little.”
Hongjoong blows out a long breath behind me, the air warm against the back of my neck.
His hand keeps making those slow circles on my lower back, thumb digging into a knot of tension beside my spine.
“It’s been a long time since I actually knotted anyone,” he says quietly, almost like he’s admitting it to himself as much as to me.
I go still. My eyes open and I stare at the wall across from the bed, at the painting hanging there in its gilded frame.
“Really?” I ask, keeping my voice soft and even despite the way my stomach has dropped. “What were you doing during your ruts, then?”