Chapter 13 Aston #2
His eyes are so dark, I can see my reflection in their glassy pools. He looks possessed. Fucking sexy.
“Touchy, are we?” I whisper. “And to think, I’m the one with the so-called temper.”
He shoves me, and the next thing I know I’m flat on my back with one pissed off quarterback seizing me by the neck. I’m beginning to think he has a fetish for this.
Air wheezes out of me as he pinches my cheeks with one hand, while the other remains clamped around my throat, holding my head in place as he adds pressure, squeezing my windpipe with bruising force. Cutting off my oxygen.
He’s gripping my face so hard, I’m pretty sure my teeth are about to burst through my cheeks. Like my brain’s about to pop out of my ears.
I claw at his arms instinctively, and my legs try to kick out from under him, but it’s no use. He’s so much bigger than me. And it’s not even like I want to escape. If anything, I just want to curl them around him to keep him here. Never let him go.
But he won’t let me do that.
Not that I think I need to.
He doesn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon, if his brutal hold on me and the boner jabbing me in the stomach are anything to go by.
Ah, so the other day wasn’t a fluke.
He’s as fucked in the head as me.
It’s a full-on assault to my senses as he dips down, crushing his nose to mine. Iron floods my mouth and he’s all I see, all I smell, and all I hear.
And he’s the only thing I can feel.
His strong thighs straddle my hips as he grinds that big dick of his against my stomach. I can feel my skimpy little toga loosening from his rough, desperate movements. I arch up, thrusting, seeking more friction in the only way I can. Which is not very much.
My lips chase his, desperate to bridge the barely-there gap, but he pulls back suddenly, before I ever get the chance, releasing me completely. But he still sits on me, so my pitiful whine of protest is simply just that: pitiful.
Vale’s lips are parted, looking fuller somehow, despite never having kissed me. His eyes are hooded, cheeks are flushed. Messy dark brown hair flops over his brow, and I realize this is the most unkempt I’ve seen him since blowing back into his orbit.
He’s normally so put-together. So in control.
Except for when I piss him off apparently.
“Don’t stop,” I rasp, licking my lips.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, it occurs to me, and not for the first time, that I once thought of this guy as my brother. Shouldn’t that make this kind of…weird? Gross? Now that we’re finally here, doing the nasty.
Heat flares up in those bottomless pits for eyes, and I feel a breathy smile stretch across my face as I spread my arms across the bed. Surrendering to the big, bad football player.
No. Nope. Definitely not.
This is fucking hot.
My fingers bump into something, and it takes me a second to remember we’re not alone. I quickly roll my head to glance over at the figure sprawled out on the far side of the bed. I give his foot a shove, waiting for him to jolt awake.
Nothing.
Turning my head forward once more, I start to say something to Vale, when he climbs off me.
Panic and desperation roll through me like a tidal wave. “Don’t—”
My words are quickly choked out by a grunt as Vale flips me over onto my stomach.
The air whooshes out of me as I grapple at the duvet.
I feel the fabric wrapped around me pulling, and then all at once, it’s gone.
Ripped away from where it was covering my bare ass. Exposing my skin to the chilly air.
Vale bites out a curse when he realizes I was naked under my costume.
I roll my head, peeking over my shoulder. Wiggling my butt, I say, “Can I at least keep the wings?”
Rather than answer me out loud, he smacks my ass. Hard. Harder than he hit my face.
I hiss, bucking forward into the mattress, prompting a dark chuckle from him as he smooths a hand over my throbbing flesh.
Holy hotness, Batman.
Then, suddenly, there’s a hand reaching between my legs, brushing up over my balls so unexpectedly my stomach caves in, and I find myself arching up for him. All but shoving my greedy hole in his face.
He gives my dick a firm squeeze, his hand warm and so, so big. At the same time the other one comes down hard on my other cheek. Not as hard as the first thwack but still scorching.
A moan punches out of me, breaking off into a gasp. Unintelligible nonsense scrambles out from my parched throat as he hums in appreciation. “This what you came for?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, all I can do is nod.
Pretty sure I’d nod to just about anything right now.
“So fucking needy,” he mutters, almost like he’s talking to himself. I'm dripping like a faucet, yet he makes no move to use my pre-cum as lubricant. He jerks me dry. It's as if he doesn't want this to feel good for me...as if he wants it to hurt.
At the same time he strokes my cock, he spreads one cheek, stealing a peek of my hole. “Such a little slut for it, aren’t you?”
I try not to squirm.
“A pretty little hole for a pretty little slut,” he says almost mockingly. Then without warning, or any prep, he thrusts a finger in me.
My chest seizes. Eyes bug. If it wasn’t for him holding me down, I’m certain I would’ve flown right up out of the bed.
“Shh,” he whispers, stroking my inner walls with a thick, punishing finger.
It burns like a mofo, but gun to my head, this is the best burn I’ve ever felt in my entire life.
“You’re gonna be good for me now. You know this is what you deserve.
” His finger twists and crooks, glancing over that little sweet spot all too fast before he’s pulling out.
“Vale,” I whine, and I’m not even ashamed of it. Not one bit. I wiggle my ass, trying desperately to thrust it up at him at the same time he circles his fingers around my balls and squeezes. I manage to grunt out a single word. “More.”
It hurts. Fuck, does it hurt. This need inside me. This emptiness. The vice on my sac. The echo of his slaps, of his dry finger thrusting inside me. It all hurts so fucking good and so fucking bad, I no longer know up from down. Right from wrong…
Not that I ever gave such follies much consideration to begin with.
“Jesus, look at you,” he says, releasing my balls, sliding back up between my ass before letting go of me completely.
Tears crest my eyes as I white-knuckle the paisley printed duvet. Beneath me, my dick weeps into the scratchy fabric like a poor old widow mourning her long-lost love. Lonely, inconsolable, and so, so tragically deprived.
Another hard smack to my ass has red-hot delicious pain shooting up my spine.
“You like it when I hurt you, don’t you?” he says, trailing his fingers over my bruised, beaten flesh. “You like being at my mercy, you sick little freak.”
I bite the blanket, grinding desperately into the bed.
“That’s it,” he whispers. I hear the glorious sound of a belt coming undone. The soft click and zip of his fly. “Show me how badly you want it. You’re aching for it, aren’t you? Look at that pretty pink hole, fluttering about, begging to be filled.”
Yes, yes, yes!
A dark, wicked chuckle fills the room, and then I hear a loud spit a second before I feel wetness dripping down the cleft of my ass. Rough, angry fingers rub it around my flesh, sinking into my tight heat.
I’ve never felt so simultaneously connected and disconnected from a lover. I’m nothing more than an object to him. Property to be used and abused.
But when he grabs my hand, pinning it next to my head, and blankets that big, fully clothed body over me, crushing my wings between us, and knocking against my quivering hole with the blunt head of his cock…
I realize I’ve never felt so damn owned either.
A whimper escapes me as he nudges at my hole the ever faintest bit. I sense his arm moving, like he’s jerking himself. I wiggle, and he lowers his weight enough so that I can’t move.
But he still doesn’t push inside me.
He’s playing with me.
Torturing me.
He turns his head, licking a stripe up my neck. He hums, nipping my skin with his teeth. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” He says the words so quietly, I can’t even be sure they’re for me. “Sweet under all that filth.”
“Vale,” I whine into the bedding.
“Mmm, like sugar,” he murmurs, sucking a bruise just below my ear. His fingers clench around mine, grinding my bones together. “Sweet and tempting but will rot you from the inside out.”
I shake my head. “N-no, I’ll b-be g-good. So good, so, so good for you, please,” I babble.
“That so? You think someone like you can be good enough for me?”
My knees quake. I can barely hold myself up. “Y-yesss,” I half growl, half cry, shoving my hips back, and earning a sharp nip of his teeth.
“You want me to fuck you?” he growls into my hair, dragging his tip roughly back and forth over my hole.
I manage to roll my head to the side, eyes cracked to slits. “Yes!” I gasp.
A wicked chuckle rumbles into my sweaty hair. “I don’t know…”
I whimper, my entire body trembling.
“I think I need you to beg for it. Scream for it. Let the world know just how much of a slut you are.”
“Anything!” I croak.
He hums. “Yeah? You’ll scream for me, sugar?” he taunts, sounding as cruel as his fingers feel.
Eyes flying wide open, I go to respond when I collide with a droopy, glassy set of blue peeking down at me from the head of the bed.
Oh, hi there, I think, a breathless smile creeping up my flushed face.
“I’ll scream so loud,” I moan, not taking my eyes off those watching us. “Everyone will know who I belong to. Please. Please fuck me Vale. Make me yours.”
Behind me, there’s a grunt and a curse. And just enough pressure that he sinks inside me. But only just.
And I’m babbling and moaning and dying for more…
“Please,” I beg shamelessly, screwing my eyes shut as I try futilely to impale myself fully. “Please do it. Please fuck me. Fill me. Hurt me. Vale. Pleasepleaseple—”
Vale tenses. Jerks. And then buries a roar in my neck, teeth bared against my skin.