28. Orion
Orion
V ince dropped his hands away from his face, eyeing me warily as I made my way closer to him. His bed was unmade beneath him, the sheets tangled.
“Are you still hungry?” I asked
He worked his jaw, taking the glass of wine I offered him and having a large swallow.
“I think I hate you,” he said.
I wanted to kiss him on the mouth, lick the taste of Cabernet away from his lips. “I expect that.”
Vince took another drink of wine and passed the glass back to me. I edged closer and folded my body over his until I could reach the nightstand to set it down. I put the plate of cheese down beside it, then notched myself back in place between Vince’s knees.
“What do you want from me?” he whispered, sounding like he was speaking more to himself than me .
I gently lowered my hands to the tops of his thighs, shivering at the way his muscles quaked. “I want whatever you’ll give me.”
“Do you hate me?” he asked. “Is that why you…”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Not even when I made you hit him?” he pressed, sitting up straighter. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against mine. “When I made you clean him up?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Not even when I fuck him?”
I sucked in a small breath and screwed my eyes closed.
“I’m going to fuck him,” Vince said softly.
He reached up and cradled my cheek in his hand, and moaning quietly, I let his palm take the weight of me.
Our noses bumped together and I chased after his mouth.
Our lips brushed and he dragged his hand away from my cheek, down to my chin, where he gripped me hard and flipped us both.
I landed hard on my back, his fingertips digging into my jaw as he levered himself up and over me, eyes scanning my face for any hint of jealousy.
There was plenty for him to find, but there was also something else for him to find, hard and hot between my legs.
“You like it,” he said, shoving me down into the sheets. The answer must have shown on my face because next he said, “God, Orion. You make it so easy…”
He trailed off, leaving the rest of his sentence unsaid and I’d never been so desperate to hear words come from his mouth than I was in that moment.
The need to know what came next was a tangible thing that wrapped itself around my fingers, drawing my hands up to his waist, to his ribs, around to his back.
“Easy to what?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He shifted, bracing his hand on the bed beside my face to hold his weight, and he reached between our bodies with the other, fingers fumbling madly at my fly.
I helped him along, getting out of my pants while he went to the nightstand for lube.
Vince shoved his sweats down behind his balls, then squirted half the bottle onto his still-growing erection.
My slacks were caught around one of my ankles, but he was back between my legs, the slick and swollen head of his cock fighting against my unprepared asshole.
I spread my legs as much as I could manage, and with one sharp snap of his hips, Vince forced himself into my body.
Arching, I threw my head back and let out a strangled cry.
I didn’t recognize the sound of my own voice, and as he drew out and moved back forward, burying himself so deep inside of me, another choked-off whimper fell past my lips.
Vince started to fuck me in earnest then, setting a punishing pace that moved both of our bodies across the bed until my head was half off the side.
His face was contorted with rage as he fucked into me, fury and some other emotion I’d never seen him wear before that had shivers tracking from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.
He paused his assault only long enough to haul me back into the middle of the bed so I didn’t fall to the floor entirely.
With his fingers curled around my hips, Vince lifted me half off the mattress, deepening the angle of his penetration so his cock slammed against my prostate with every thrust.
Even with how aggressively Vince took me, it wasn’t enough to get me off.
There was something wrong with me that I needed pain or cruelty to get to my own end.
It had been that way for so long, I didn’t even remember a time where pleasure for me wasn’t tied to pain.
They were one and the same and each sensation equally vital.
Vince must have remembered because he took my sac into a tight fist, twisting and pulling until I saw stars.
Precum spurted out against my stomach as sweat fell from his forehead down onto my chest. His hair had grown damp from the workout he was giving us both, hanging loose over his eyes.
Another violent pull against my balls, paired with the sweetest pressure against my prostate, and it was the end for me.
Cum splattered against my chest as I came, soiling the shirt I’d never even bothered to get out of.
Possession sparked in the depths of Vince’s eyes, the shadows in the room dancing across his face and painting him in a new and darker light.
He looked like a monster. Like a god.
I mapped the bags under his eyes, the scruff on his cheeks, the loose lines around his mouth when his jaw went slack from the pleasure of being inside of me.
His pace faltered and then he went still, throwing his head back with the most ferocious battle cry I’d ever heard from him.
I blinked slowly, eyes falling closed as Vince’s cock thickened and spilled, shooting jet after jet of cum into the deepest parts of my body.
Neither of us moved or spoke. I didn’t even think I breathed, but when I opened my eyes again, Vince stared down at me, chest heaving with every inhale.
A monster.
A god.
A prince.
Mine .