Chapter 23 Santos #2
I nodded anyway, the words engraving in a depraved part of my brain before I rushed to get that third pillow for Ever.
Ever, who looked like what I assumed was the perfect sub on all fours, only the faintest tremor across his limbs betraying the otherwise stillness of the room.
There was no grace in the way I stormed to him, or in the way I sank down to my knees behind him. My hands shot up right away to his ass cheeks, kneading them and pretending I wasn’t completely gone by the glistening of the lube there he had mentioned.
“I heard what Tony said,” he whispered. “I’m okay with all of it. Just so you know.”
I huffed. “Good to know.”
Truth was, it was. All of Tony’s commands weighed less over my shoulders now that I had Ever’s…permission? Consent? I’d had his consent before, but it felt more solid now. Better.
Fuck.
I had so much to learn.
So much that went beyond pain and Dominance and submission and any other kinks that Ever wanted to throw my way.
Thankfully, for once, my dick seemed to have a mind of its own that wasn’t connected to my own inner ramblings. It just wanted to get my clothes out of the way and sink in that pussy.
Ever leaned into my touch as I lined him up with me. As I yanked my joggers down my knees and squirmed until I could move enough to thrust into him the way he begged for.
The way that had me working out a sweat and feeling like a fucking caveman, his noises intermingling with mine to the point I couldn’t tell what was driven by my own need for him and the primal urges all those sounds stirred in a deep part of my sense of self I was getting acquainted with.
“Just like that,” I grunted. Ever leaned into me, chasing after every thrust. I fucked into his pussy like there was a prize to obtain. Like I needed to reach the deepest, to claim more of his guts. “You like when you’re fucked hard, don’t you?”
The cry that slipped out of his lips was the most fucking beautiful sound. It was a shock to my system, too, a boost of energy, of need to make him do it again. To have him crying and shrieking nonstop until I emptied inside of him.
I had more to do, though. More that Ever wanted me to do, and more that I’d told myself I’d try.
“Come up here.”
I said the words, but I was the one manhandling him into position.
I was the one putting him where I wanted, the one pushing him against my chest and making sure he could rest his face against my shoulder. The one growling because the way he breathed hot air into my neck had me ready to pop before I’d even filled one of the promises I’d made him.
“You like this, then?”
It was all the warning I could give him before I was grabbing the brown nubs on his chest. Before I was applying pressure and holding my breath as Ever gasped and moaned and shivered.
As the moans turned to grunts, to winces because he couldn’t hide the pain when I tugged them farther from his body.
“Answer.” I gritted out.
“Y-yeah.” Ever’s chest heaved up and down as he did as I said. As he tried so hard not to break down too early. I’d come to recognize the signs. The nonverbal language that meant I was on the right track. That I had to push farther, to take him to the damn finish line. “P-please, Sant—”
I twisted his nipples between my fingers and yanked. Hard.
He choked on thin air.
I tried to focus on the way it felt for me, like Tony had said.
I couldn’t, not when he was reacting like this. When he took all my focus.
So I just kept going. Fuck thinking. Fuck everything that wasn’t sinking into his body and pulling more sounds out of him.
“Please, fuck, I…”
“Shut up,” I grunted. I bit on his shoulder. Dragged my nails down his ribcage all the way to his caged cock. His clit. “Beg me for it, slut.”
“For what?”
“Beg me,” I repeated. I wasn’t in full control of what I was saying, or doing, or the logic behind the words. I didn’t know if it mattered or not. “Beg me to hurt those useless balls. To make you cry.”
Ever’s breath was chopped, hitched. I waited him out, curling fingers around his skin, my pinkies toying with the hem of those stupidly delicate-looking tights. It was all good. I knew he wanted it. I just needed him to succumb. To me. To this.
To us.
“Make me hurt. Please, please, I need, it’s so fucking sensitive, I can’t—”
I didn’t squeeze like Tony had suggested.
I slammed my hand down against it, the sound reverberating across the room just as hard as Ever’s scream.
Fuck.
That scream.
It held nothing against all the other noises I’d pulled out of him.
It sneaked into my system and lodged itself in my chest. It made me… I felt stronger. Confident. Capable. I felt so fucking much of all the things I’d been struggling with. Running away from.
I couldn’t describe it. Saying it was a high was surely not the right thing.
Still.
“Do you want me to slap your balls, Ever?” I asked. “You want to scream and cry for me like the slut you are?”
He was so beautiful. So fucking beautiful, and it was taking everything to stay still inside him. To wait him out. To not overdo it and end up coming all over him. It didn’t feel right, coming before I wrecked him the way he wanted to be wrecked.
“Yes.” The consent was sobbed against the crook of my neck, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch me. To curl his fingers around my thighs. “Please, you just… Do your worst. Please.”
So I did.
I hit him again and again. At one point, I had to use one hand to keep both of his behind his back, trapped between our bodies, while I continued to go down on him. While he cried and babbled his thanks and asked for more for reasons I couldn’t wrap my head around.
It didn’t matter.
Not right now.
Right now was all about this newfound power, this newfound confidence boost, this laser focus that had everything else not just quieting, but downright disappearing.
I came in the middle of all that. In the middle of slapping and squeezing and punching his balls while he rocked his hips and circled and moved way too much.
Whether he was trying to move away or into the assault, I couldn’t quite tell.
I didn’t think he could, either. He kept begging, though. Kept screaming and thanking me.
His skin was flushed red all over.
“You’re the best fucking girl, did you know that?”
“Please. Fuck, please, please.” I didn’t know what he was begging for. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t, I need, please, keep…”
But I kept doing as he asked. Kept going until I noticed the clear liquid making a mess of his cage.
The cage that made coming almost impossible from everything he’d said and everything I’d read. The evidence was right there, though.
“Fuck.”
The sobs grew harder. I could see him trying to draw in some air, but I didn’t think it was quite working.
“How do you feel?” I was panting as I pushed the question out.
It was important. Almost as important as staying upright, and it was taking some serious effort to do that. My thighs quivered under me while I was still riding that burst of energy that had taken over.
“Hurts.” He whimpered and squirmed until I pulled out of him, and I had him curled on my lap. “Weird.”
“Good weird or bad weird?”
I’d probably die if he said bad weird. If that energy wasn’t something I should’ve leaned on.
My gaze searched for Tony. He would’ve said something if he thought I was overdoing it, right? That was what Dungeon Masters were there for. To keep an eye on things and intervene before they got ugly.
He looked perfectly calm, though, studying us, but leaning against the arm of the couch without much of a care. He’d be more rattled if I’d fucked up, wouldn’t he?
“Want me to get you some water?” he asked.
Yeah, I could’ve been more subtle.
“Please.”
Ever didn’t move. He just kept breathing hard against my chest. A few shivers ran down his spine.
Time stilled as I tracked Tony’s footsteps around the villa. It was just me and Ever, and trying to warm him up while not being sure I could move.
“And for fuck’s sake, I know you’re younger than me, but this place is full of much more comfortable surfaces.”
The words were a jolt, one that had had me scrambling to stand up with Ever on my arms and amble toward the couch.
Tony was right behind me. He had two glasses of water filled three-quarters full, unlike Ever, who filled them to the brim and complained when the liquid spilled.
A blanket, too. I didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, but I grabbed it before I did the water.
Ever needed warmth. It was an important part of aftercare. I knew that much.
Maybe I needed it, too, but Ever came first. It was easier to focus on what he needed, anyway. Easier to focus on his throat bobbing as he gulped down the water like he’d just spent a day in a desert.
Sure, I did the same with mine eventually, but that was in the background. Ever was the forefront. The way it was supposed to be.
“This would be about the time you check in with your sub.”
Shit!
I tensed up to hide how much his voice startled me. Tony was on the couch, but at a distance. I’d kind of forgotten that he was here again once I’d gotten the blanket and water from him.
“Huh?”
Ever cleared his throat before Tony could clarify.
I watched as he attempted to glue himself to me.
I should’ve actually lost my clothes instead of simply lowering my pants, but I liked to see the way he curled his fingers around the hem of my shirt, too.
I liked the way the clothes smelled after, too, with a hint of his shampoo and the scent that was only his and had brought me out of many nightmares over the years.
“I’m good, Sir.” The words were aimed at Tony—the honorific made it obvious—but they still worked to warm me up. I had wrapped the blanket around the two of us for a reason. “Just crashing a bit.”
“Yeah?” I watched as Tony got himself more comfortable. Could he ooze that…coolness…when it was him who had just come his brains out inside his sub? Something told me the answer was yes; I just didn’t understand the logistics of it. “What about you, Santos?”
“Me?” Fuck. No, I knew. Everyone got aftercare, and it was important, and Tony had implied when we were texting that he wanted to check in that I was all right, too. “I’m good.”
“How did it feel to go to town on your girl’s balls?”
Ever shivered the second Tony referred to him as my girl. It wasn’t a bad shiver, though, the kind that happened when someone was teasing him in a way that made him hide away because he couldn’t find the words or the confidence to stand up for himself.
I still tightened my hold on him.
“It felt…” And I licked my lips while I fumbled for the words I was just thinking Ever struggled with. It wasn’t a common occurrence; I just didn’t know what was right, what would be too much for him or for me to admit. “I felt fucking good. Powerful. In control. There was nothing else. Just Ever.”
Tony hummed.
Ever glanced up at me. The way his eyes shone spoke of trouble before he opened those sinful lips of his. “Sounds like Domspace.”
“But I’m not…”
I still wasn’t. I didn’t have any doubt about it.
Tony leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Some subs never experience subspace, and they’re still considered subs. I don’t see why someone couldn’t experience Domspace without being a Dom. You can give it a different name if you like, but it does sound like Domspace to me.”
I could give it another name?
Huh.
Whatever.
That would be a riddle for future me to work through.
“You’re good, babes?”
“Really good.”
“I didn’t go too far?”
“You can go harder,” he said with the laziness of a cat that had just been napping in the sun and living the good life. “Not right away, though.”
“I wouldn’t—” I balked. Did he think I was going to stop giving a shit about him just because I was, maybe, coming to the conclusion that there was something to be said about sadism in the bedroom? “That’s not…”
“I know.” He licked my lips in a way that shouldn’t be enticing. My heart was still beating too fast for anyone’s liking. I didn’t like it. I would never hurt him, not in any way that would put him in danger. “Can you take off my cage? It needs cleaning.”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Of course.”
Had he been able to tell what was going through my head?
That I needed to take care of him to feel settled?
I didn’t care. I just grabbed the thin chain around his neck with the key, found the release mechanism by touch alone, and tried to be as gentle as I could with his balls while taking the contraption off him and dropping it on the glass table that didn’t really fit with the rest of the decor.
I’d once told Ever’s dad that it seemed like a hazard to have it here, too, but that only got me an hour-long lesson on art history I hadn’t asked for.
Part of me had wished the haphazard throw would break it, but no luck.
“Did you want to come, I mean, properly?”
It wasn’t the first time I asked him. When he’d started wearing the cage, without a Dom’s commands about when he could or couldn’t come, he’d taken me up on it a few times.
As time went on, though, he pushed on the idea that he only got to have prostate and ruined orgasms, and that it turned him on more when he refused.
I still asked. This last orgasm he had felt different than the others. It would make sense if that meant he made an exception, wouldn’t it?
I had no idea.
“Nuh-uh.” Ever shook his head. “I like this.”
“Okay.”