Chapter Three #4
As he got him sloppy wet, the man’s balls were already tucked up into his body. It was clear that Graham was struggling to hold on and not to cum.
It was time to push his limits.
“Tell me who owns you,” he said, stopping the blowjob to torment the man, and mind fuck him. “Tell me who is the ONLY man who can cum in this ass, my bottom.”
He moaned.
When he didn’t answer, he was punished with a rough slap to his ass, leaving a handprint.
Still, he didn’t answer, only because he wanted to make this man go wild on him.
There was sex.
And there was brutal fucking, and he preferred the latter with D’Artangnan.
To punish him, he flipped him over, and laid hands on him, and his ass.
He gave him ten truly brutal slaps on his ass, and Graham wanted more. He was humping the pillow, desperate to get off.
He needed to cum.
“More,” he begged.
And he knew why.
He wanted to be punished for what he’d done. He deserved to be punished for giving his Master, his Top, an ultimatum.
And losing him.
“If you cum, my bottom, I’ll stop here and now,” he warned, knowing that Graham liked to be pushed to his limits.
He whimpered, but couldn’t stop his hips from violently humping that pillow.
He was almost out of control.
Almost.
When he shoved him down, so he couldn’t move, Graham begged.
“Please fuck me.”
Only, his Top wasn’t close to being ready.
Instead, he grabbed handfuls of the man’s ass cheeks, and spread them to reveal his prize. With the tip of his own dick, he lubricated it.
Making him moan.
“Yes, Master,” he whispered.
And there it was.
Someone was in full, bottom-mode.
Instead of using his dick, he rewarded him with rimming him.
And it did what he needed.
Graham came so hard, the feral moan was so erotic, it made D’Artangnan’s dick throb.
“Oh, someone just came.”
Graham rode out the pleasure, and then, realized what he’d done.
And he was glad.
Now, he’d be punished in ways he only dreamed of, and for that, he was glad.
He felt the bed move, and when it did, D’Artangnan was beside him, one hand on his dick, and one hand forcing his head to the side.
Before he could say a thing, he took his mouth, brutally. He choked him with his thick dick, forcing it down his throat until he gagged and his eyes watered.
“Look up at me,” he ordered.
And Graham did.
The whole time, he kept his throat open, and took all the man had to offer. Every now and again, he’d choke him with his cock, cutting off his breathing.
How had he given this up?
How had he let this perfect Top slip away?
Graham hated himself for that.
Fuck never leaving Scotland. For this, every day, he’d leave right now—if he could. What he’d learned was being with D’artangnan was far better than losing him.
Lesson learned.
He choked him and when he slipped his big dick from between his lips, there was that long line of saliva from his lips to the head of his erection.
D’Artangnan moaned at the visual.
What he wanted was to fuck this man so hard he walked funny for a month.
“Tell me who owns this mouth.”
And Graham did.
“You do. It’s always you.”
He was rewarded with D’Artangnan’s dick being driven back down his throat, until he couldn’t breathe again.
Then, he faced fucked him.
HARD.
The sounds of the man slurping on his erection filled the room, and drove D’Artangnan to the edge.
“Come on, my sexy bottom. Make me cum,” he muttered, wanting to fill his belly with everything he had in his balls.
Graham obeyed.
It was the least he could do for the man who owned him mind, body, and soul.
And it didn’t take long.
As Graham took his dick down his throat, his hips were moving again, and he was trying to get off again with that pillow.
“Yessss!” he hissed, not letting his head move, but instead using his face to get off. “Your mouth is too much,” he muttered, as his balls stopped slapping Graham on the chin, and instead, tucked up into his sack.
They both knew the inevitable was coming.
“I’m there,” he hissed, as that hot, wet, wave of cum erupted out of him, and coated the back of his throat.
Graham swallowed, trying to get it all down, but some just leaked out of his mouth and down his chin.
The whole time, D’Artangnan was standing there, his head back, as his body went lax from that well-needed orgasm.
He floated in the pleasure, but when he was able to surface, he was able to focus again.
“Oh, you’re not cumming again,” he said, moving quickly to flip the man back over, and pick up the belt that had been with his fatigues on the floor.
Graham whimpered.
“Please use it on me,” he begged.
Only, D’Artangnan had other plans.
Instead, he made the leather crack, and that sent chills across Graham’s body.
The precum on the tip of his dick told the tale.
Someone was really aroused.
That was how he liked him.
“Now, I have to punish you, my bottom,” he said, grabbing both of his ankles, and pushing them toward the headboard where his hands were locked.
Graham moaned.
Oh, God.
This was going to be brutal.
As his master locked his one ankle to the headboard with the belt, he held the other there since he didn’t have a binding.
“Now, I’m going to enjoy your ass,” he admitted, teasing him with the head of his dick.
“Please,” he begged, needing to be filled by this man in order to feel whole.
In order to pay his penance.
In order to…remember.
With his dick still hard, he pushed into the man’s body, only after spitting on his tight, puckered asshole. When he filled him, Graham whimpered in pleasure.
In pain.
In joy.
In memory.
Being taken by his Marine was always a good time, and what he wanted now was for it to be memorable.
As in he could relive this over and over as he was trapped in Purgatory.
Between living and dead.
Between feeling and being numb.
As D’Artangnan bottomed out, his dick all the way into his body, he throbbed, making his captive bedmate moan.
“Yeah, I’m going to fuck you good,” he said, holding his one leg up, as the other was tethered.
Then, he began moving.
First, he moved slowly, the man’s saliva the only lubrication he needed. The whole time, the friction slowed, and the pleasure came.
He had him stretched open, and taking all of him.
“God!” Graham shouted, his dick throbbing in desperation as his ass took all of the man.
D’Artangnan was focused.
He was working on bringing them both pleasure, and not willing to stop until they achieved it.
Their crap bed shifted, and the headboard slapped against the wall at the motion.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
It was over and over again, a sexy staccato and music to their ears.
As he was fucking his lover, his one and only, and his soulmate, he was jerking him off, knowing he couldn’t hold on.
Normally, he’d punish him more for being brazen and cumming without permission, but D’Artangnan was celebrating.
He’d been worried about the outcome of this, but he could see that Graham had proven, once again, to trust and believe in him.
He couldn’t wait for that year to pass so he could change their lives.
It was odd to Graham that he could hear what D’Artangnan was thinking. Then again, this was his Purgatory—or coma state.
This was all fiction, and not real.
Oh, what would he give for it to be the truth and not a figment of his imagination or punishment?
“Oh, my sexy bottom, your ass is too much for me,” he muttered, already at the point where he could cum again.
To make Graham cum, he roughly played with his balls instead of stroking him.
“Please,” he begged. “I’m going to cum!”
And that was what D’Artangnan wanted. He wanted him to cover himself with so much cum.
This was his trophy, and he’d won it by loving him.
D’Artangnan moaned, and the long length of him hit that one spot in the man’s ass repeatedly, and it set him off like a rocket.
Graham came.
And came.
And came.
Oh, and when he thought he couldn’t cum again, D’Artangnan proved him wrong. He kept pummeling that one spot to show him who owned his ass.
And his cum.
“Please,” Graham whispered, unable to stop himself from falling over and over again. His body felt light, and he was enjoying the feeling of this man controlling his whole being.
D’Artangnan grunted, and with one last slam home, he exploded deep in his ass, filling him with another gratifying load of hot cum.
As soon as the eruption happened, he had to put his hand on the headboard to hold on.
He nearly lost his balance, tumbling onto the man. Somehow, he managed to stay upright.
Below him, Graham was out of breath, and that dread was coming back to him.
This would disappear.
This joy would be taken away from him, and it was all his fault.
The tears filled his eyes, and he closed them so the man still buried in his ass wouldn’t see them.
He was far too ashamed to let him see that pain and sadness. Then, he’d have to tell him what it was about.
Sadly.
When he felt his ankle being untethered, and his hands too, he still didn’t look.
That fear was there.
Would D’Artangnan just disappear?
Would he be gone like in reality?
Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he could handle that happening to him. This felt too real.
It refilled him with the memories of what they’d shared, and what could have been.
As the bed moved, and he felt the bigger man pull him into his body and cover him, he prayed to whatever god was listening that he would be given just one more chance.
If he was given that, he’d risk it all.
For that miracle, he’d put it all on the line, and never forget that selfishness destroyed happiness.
All.
The.
Time.
If he was given that miracle, he’d embrace it, and he’d protect his relationship forever.
Hell!
He’d get on a plane today and head to the United States of America, giving up his home.
For D’Artangnan’s love, he’d sacrifice it all.
As Graham was cuddled into his body, the warm caresses from his mate, were short lived.
Slowly, he could feel the man’s hands on him, and being pressed to his chest dissipating.
It was already happening.
He.
Was.
Losing.
Him.
When he opened his eyes, D’Artangnan was standing at the foot of the bed, fully dressed. Only, this time, it wasn’t fatigues.
It was his Marine blues.
“I would have loved you forever,” he said, staring into his eyes.
When he did, Graham saw the deadness there. He knew why it was too.
It was because of him.
With his selfishness, he’d damned this man to something hellish too.
“Did you find love after me?” he asked, sitting up and going there with what strength he had left.
This was his sin.
So he should bear it.
“No,” D’Artangnan said. “I never found this again. I didn’t even come close,” he said, touching his shoulder with his fingers. “I almost died without every seeing you again.”
Tears slipped down Graham’s face.
“I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I’m so sorry I didn’t just trust you, D’Artangnan. I hate that I was unable to give you the chance to prove you loved me.”
The man stood there.
“It’s no longer D’Artangnan. That man died a long time ago, Graham. You killed him with your words and ultimatum. You put him in the grave. He died that day, and has been dead since.”
He was aware.
And that hurt.
“I wish I didn’t hurt you.”
Only, it didn’t matter.
And Graham knew the truth. What was done, was done, and there was no way he’d get that miracle from the universe.
Why?
He simply wasn’t worthy of it.
As D’Artangnan picked up his ruck sack, it struck Graham how handsome he was with his cover under his arm, and his chest decorated with countless medals from battle.
He memorized that moment.
Because he knew he wouldn’t get redemption.
The bottom line was the bottom line, and he didn’t deserve it.
As D’Artangnan walked to the door, the click of his well-polished Marine shoes was the only sound in the room other than his heart breaking into pieces.
“I wish you would have trusted me. We could have had kids, a home, and this,” he said, his voice getting even more distant.
It was distorting, and no matter how hard Graham fought to stay in that moment, to change the outcome, he simply couldn’t.
The dream, or Purgatory, wouldn’t let him.
Instead, it made him feel every ounce of the pain like small, sharp daggers piercing every inch of him—including his heart.
It made him suffer all over again.
That was the story of his life.
Unfortunately.
For.
Him.
“Please give me another chance,” he begged, as the last part of D’Artangnan was visible through the doorway.
Just beyond it, it was dark-black and empty.
Like a void.
Like his heart.
It was beyond endless, and much like the hopelessness he was feeling.
“It’s too late, Graham. I have to let you go now.”
And that was all he had to hear.
It was so finite.
And done.
When the door closed, Graham closed his eyes, and he gave up.
He slipped back into that darkness, unsure of what tortures would come next. If he was dead, he hoped this was as bad as it got.
Because he knew what he deserved.
And it was the pain.
Of his true love lost.