Chapter 22 Ravenswood’s Mercy #6
Cal rode me harder, sweat slicking his body, muscles working as he impaled himself again and again, rhythm unsteady, desperate.
His hands clutched at my chest, nails scraping through the hair, finding my nipples and rolling them between his fingers, tugging until I cursed, pleasure sparking up my spine.
He leaned in, burying his face in my armpit again, licking and sucking greedily, marking me with spit and bite.
Every thrust down sent a shudder through him, his body tight around me, perfect.
I felt the strain in my arms, wrists aching with every attempt to move, the silk biting in, keeping me at his mercy. I needed to touch him, needed to claim him fully, not as the man tied down, but as the man who would ruin him over and over.
I twisted my wrists hard, the silk stretching, straining, and finally giving with a satisfying snap.
The sound startled Cal, his hips faltering, eyes flying open, mouth parted in a gasp.
I caught him by the waist, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and flipped us in one violent surge, driving him flat to the mattress.
He yelped, the sound punched out of him, but his eyes were wild and hungry, a grin breaking across his face as I caged him beneath me.
“Couldn’t wait, huh?” he panted, cock pressed between our bodies, leaking against my abs.
“You make me lose control,” I growled, kissing him hard, biting at his lip, my hands everywhere. “I need you. Need to mark you—make sure you never forget who you belong to.”
He moaned, arching under me, legs spreading wider, feet planted on the bed for leverage. I drove into him again, deeper than before, making him cry out, the sound pure want.
I pushed up, manhandling him, dragging him to the edge of the bed and forcing him to stand on shaking legs. His knees almost gave, but I held him up, one arm locked around his chest, the other gripping his hip.
“Face the wall,” I ordered, voice gone hoarse with command.
Cal obeyed without question, bracing his hands against the cool plaster, ass jutting out, body trembling.
I pressed up behind him, cock still buried inside, hands running over his ribs, his stomach, and his thighs.
I bit his shoulder, sucking a bruise there, then licked the mark, soothing it, worshipping him even as I claimed him.
I slammed into him, fucking him against the wall, the sound of our bodies echoing through the room.
He pressed his forehead to the paint, gasping, one hand moving down to stroke himself, desperate for more.
I leaned in, licking the sweat from his spine, kissing every notch of bone, every scar and bruise.
My teeth scraped along the line of his jaw, my tongue following, tasting salt and need.
I pulled him back by the hair, kissed him then shoved him higher up the wall, spreading his legs wider with my knee. I spat in my hand, slicked myself again, then drove into him even harder, relentless. His body welcomed me, greedy and yielding, every thrust making him shudder.
My mouth was everywhere. I trailed my tongue down his spine, kneeling behind him, worshipping the curve of his ass, kissing the base of his spine, biting at the swell of flesh before spreading his cheeks and diving in again, tongue fucking him while I stroked his cock from behind.
He sobbed, lost to sensation, hands scrabbling for purchase, body arching back into my mouth. I stood, slicked my cock again, and pushed back in, both of us howling at the stretch, the heat, the raw, filthy pleasure.
I wrapped my arms around his chest, crushing him to me, fucking up into him with brutal, relentless force, our bodies slamming together, sweat and spit and desperation mixing in the air.
The wall shook with every thrust, Cal’s hands braced flat for leverage, my mouth at his shoulder, biting and soothing, my cock buried so deep I could feel his pulse around me.
Each thrust was a claim, a promise, a challenge until the world shrank to the single, burning line where our bodies met. The slap of skin, Cal’s strangled moans, my ragged breathing. My balls ached, cock so hard I was seeing stars, but I held back, wanting him to remember this, to feel it for days.
“God, Dom, please,” Cal choked out, voice shattered, wrecked. “Fuck me, ruin me, don’t stop, don’t ever stop—”
I fucked him harder, hips snapping up, pinning him to the wall with the force of it, hands sliding down to his waist to grip him, to keep him in place.
He arched his back, ass pushing back to meet me, his whole body begging for more, desperate and wild.
I spat on my fingers, reached around, stroking his cock in time with my thrusts, his head thrown back against my shoulder, mouth open in a silent scream.
“Tell me what you want,” I growled into his ear, voice thick and slurred with lust.
He twisted, breath hot against my cheek. “Piss in me,” he begged, raw and shameless, the words a live wire between us. “Please, Dom.”
The request sent a savage thrill through me, primal and possessive. I slowed my thrusts, pressing deep, grinding my hips in circles as I let go, the hot stream flooding his tight hole. Cal gasped, whole body trembling as he took it, moaning as I filled him, his ass twitching around my cock.
“Fuck, yes—God, that’s it, fuck—” He pushed back, greedy, desperate, wringing every last drop from me, the filthy sensation making my cock jerk and throb inside him.
When I finished, I didn’t pull out—just held him there, one hand on his chest, the other on his hip, feeling him milk every last shiver from my body. He reached down, scooped the mess leaking out of him, and smeared it over his cock, stroking himself as he rocked back on my length.
I was close—so close I was shaking with it, moaning his name, breath hot on his skin. “You feel so fucking good,” I groaned, voice cracking as I lost rhythm, lost everything but the need to fill him. “Tightest hole I’ve ever been in—never want to leave—”
He twisted around to kiss me, filthy and desperate, our teeth clacking, tongues tangled, sweat and spit and salt mingling. “Come in me,” he begged.
That was all it took. My whole body seized, every muscle locking tight as the orgasm ripped through me, white-hot and all-consuming.
I buried myself as deep as I could, my cock swelling inside him, balls drawn up tight as I emptied into his slick, ruined hole.
I moaned—loud, raw, completely unguarded—my voice echoing off the walls, Cal milking every spasm with the squeeze of his body, the twist of his hips, the way he pressed his ass back to take every last drop.
I kept moving through it, hips jerking, cock twitching, come leaking out around me, slicking his thighs, dripping onto the floor. I pressed my face to his shoulder, breath coming in broken pants, hands clutching him so hard I’d leave bruises.
We stayed like that for a moment—locked together, shaking, the world reduced to the sound of our heartbeats and the scent of sex in the air.
But Cal wasn’t done. He pushed back, turning in my arms, his cock hard and leaking, eyes blown with need. “Your turn,” he whispered, voice hoarse with lust and devotion. “Let me fuck you. Let me have you, Dom.”
The command sent another jolt through me, pleasure and anticipation twisting together. I nodded, breathless, and he caught my mouth in a bruising kiss, his hands frantic at my hips, guiding me to the bed.
He pushed me down, mouth on my neck, licking sweat from my skin, sucking at the spot where my pulse pounded. “On your knees,” he growled, echoing my own commands from earlier. I obeyed, eager, open, offering myself as I’d offered everything else.
Cal slicked his cock, running his hand through the mess between my legs, using our combined come and spit and everything filthy as lube. He pressed the head to my hole, rubbing slow, lazy circles, making me shiver and arch, hungry for the stretch, the burn.
When he entered me, it was with one smooth, relentless push—filling me, claiming me, making me his in the most primal way.
I moaned, deep and helpless, feeling him slide all the way in, his hands tight on my hips as he set a brutal rhythm, fucking me the way I’d just fucked him—hard, desperate, needing to possess and be possessed.
I cried out, lost to the sensation, the pressure of his cock, the ache and the pleasure and the absolute surrender. He leaned over me, chest slick against my back, mouth at my ear. “Mine,” he whispered, voice trembling, “all fucking mine.”
He drove into me harder, his cock grinding deep, dragging along that spot inside that made me see stars. His hands gripped my hips, fingers digging in for purchase, and his rhythm went wild—no finesse now, just the pure, hungry drive of a man claiming what he needed most.
“Fuck—Dom, you feel so good—so fucking tight—” Cal moaned, his voice breaking on every thrust. “God, your ass is perfect—so hot, so hairy, fucking filthy. Taking all of me—”
His words made me burn, made my cock twitch against the sheets, still slick from everything we’d done.
I pushed back to meet every thrust, desperate for more, hungry to be filled, to be taken until I was nothing but sensation.
The sound of our bodies echoed off the walls, punctuated by Cal’s raw curses and my own wordless cries.
“More, Cal—harder—don’t you dare hold back,” I growled, voice ragged with need. “Breed me. I want to feel you come inside me, fill me up, make me yours—”
He lost what was left of his control. One hand left my hip to fist in my hair, tugging my head back so he could bite at my neck, mark me as his. His breath was hot and frantic, teeth scraping my skin, tongue soothing the sting.
“You want it, Dom?” he panted. “Want me to fucking fill you, claim you so deep you’ll still be leaking for days?”
“Yes—please, Cal, don’t stop—” I sobbed, the words torn from me as he slammed into me, deeper, rougher, his body shaking behind me.
He rutted against me, his pubes pressed to my ass, sweat and spit and slick coating our skin. I felt every inch of him.
“Oh fuck, Dom, I’m—God, I’m so close—” Cal gasped, losing all rhythm, his thrusts growing wild and erratic.
“Give it to me,” I begged, voice hoarse. “Come for me, Cal. Fill me. I want to feel you lose it—”
He groaned, a broken, guttural sound, and slammed in deep, holding himself there as his whole body tensed.
I felt the first hot pulse of his come flood my hole, felt him throb and twitch inside me, thick spurts painting my insides.
He moaned—loud, unrestrained, ruined—the sound of a man unraveling for someone who’d finally, finally let him have everything.
“Fuck, Dom, fuck—I’m coming, I’m—shit, you feel so fucking good—” He shook, his cock jerking, sending wave after wave of come into me. “Oh god, yes, take it—take all of me—so full—mine—”
I rocked back, milking every spasm, wanting all of him, wanting to be marked and filled until nothing else existed.
Cal collapsed over me, his chest pressed to my back, heart pounding like a drum. He stayed inside, still hard, the sensation of him softening, leaking, making me shudder with aftershocks. He mouthed at my shoulder, whispering nonsense—my name, curses, desperate thank-yous.
“I can feel it,” I whispered, voice shaky, utterly gone. “You’re still coming, Cal. Filling me up. Fuck—you never end, do you?”
He laughed, voice thick with emotion and exhaustion. “Never. Not with you. God, Dom, you’re everything. You’re fucking perfect—took me so deep, let me have all of you—fuck, I’m leaking out of you, you’re so full.”
He didn’t pull out, just rocked there, lazy, messy, body moulded to mine. I turned my head, caught his mouth in a slow, filthy kiss, tasting sweat and salt and the promise of more.
We stayed tangled, breathing each other in, hearts racing, bodies boneless and spent. The mess between my thighs was obscene—Cal’s come spilling out, mixing with sweat, matting the hair on my ass and legs. I revelled in it, wanted it—every dirty reminder of what we’d given and taken.
“You ruined me,” I murmured, voice thick with satisfaction, pride, and relief.
He smiled against my skin, nuzzling my neck. “That was the idea. You ruined me too. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you—ever.”
He pulled back slowly, his cock sliding out, a fresh wave of come dripping down my thighs.
He dropped to his knees behind me, spreading my cheeks, licking me clean—slow, reverent, worshipful.
His tongue soothed the soreness, gathered every drop he’d left inside, his hands massaging my hips, calming and grounding me.
I groaned, pushing back, letting him take what he wanted, trusting him to hold me together when I felt like I might fall apart.
Cal moved up beside me, pulling me into his arms, his body wrapped around mine, sticky and satisfied and impossibly close.
“Let’s stay like this,” he whispered. “Just for a little while. Just you and me. No world, no worries—just us.”
I nodded, finally at peace, safe in the arms of the man who’d claimed me completely.
And in the warmth and aftermath, I knew I’d let him do it again—every night, every way he wanted—because with Cal, surrender felt like coming home.