Chapter Twenty-One Tom #3
I smashed my palm against his mouth, shutting him up.
He tried to push me off, but as soon as his back lifted off the floor, I scooped both his wrists with my spare hand and pinned them under his body weight, leaning forward to trap him beneath me.
The surprise in his eyes was replaced with anger.
I doubted he liked this demon version of me, but he did like how I spat into my fingers again, pushing them into his ass, lubricating the area.
He moaned into my hand, spreading himself wider for me.
I added a third finger, watching his cock leaking between us, before removing all of my fingers at once and popping them into my mouth.
I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t feeling. I was riding a black cloud to an abyss leading to my demise, taking him with me.
I removed my hand from his mouth and spat directly into his ass, but only to grab his throat while I guided my crown to his sweet, flushed hole. “Came by your place today,” I said conversationally, crowning him.
His eyes rolled inside their sockets, the rest of his body quivering. “Y-you did?”
“Yeah. Know what I saw?”
“What?”
I pushed one inch, slowly, slowly, denying both of us of the pleasure we were on the brink of experiencing. I leaned down and whispered into his face with a cruel smile, “I saw a fucking traitor.”
And I pressed all the way home in one thrust, taking him raw and deep without notice.
He arched, rolling his head back and letting out a cry that ripped my chest open. It contained so much pain. Not just physical, but the pain of coming to terms with what was happening.
Who was fucking him.
A man.
A fed.
The enemy.
“Take it,” I growled into his face, punishing him for my feelings, my confusion, my failure to keep myself in check.
“All of it, Enzo,” I seethed, buried deep inside him and not moving a fraction, letting him get used to my size.
“And fucking hate yourself when it’s all over, because when push came to shove—you let a pig fuck you. ”
God, I hated myself.
I hated myself so fucking much for each word that ripped out of my mouth without permission.
“T-Tom,” he croaked, those soft honey eyes glistening with pain and shame.
“Hmm?” I murmured. If he’d ask me to stop, I would. I’d find the strength. Somewhere. Somehow. But he didn’t.
“Fuck. You,” he enunciated slowly, spat into my face, and let his head fall back, throwing himself into the eye of the erotic storm we were both caught in.
I rode him hard. He threw his head sideways, squeezing his eyes shut as I fucked him. His face was marred with anguish and pleasure, his body was a live wire, buzzing beneath mine, cock stirring and dripping, nipples tight, toes curled.
We didn’t use protection, but I was clean—I’d never done it without a condom, not ever, not even with Matt. I got tested two months ago and hadn’t touched anyone since. If he had something, that was on my stupid ass. I’d deserve it, too.
I smashed my hips against his ass, the sound of our skin slapping, each time going deeper, harder, faster. I ravaged him blindly, with a brutality he accepted and matched. My monster met his monster in the dark, and they came out to play.
Years of cautiously controlled existence went down the drain. My meticulousness, my prized, ironclad calculating nature—all gone. Because of a twenty-six-year-old with a sick body, soft eyes, and a fragile soul.
With each of my thrusts, we sailed across the floor, the hardwood scraping my knees and burning his back. I didn’t stop. And when his whimpers of pain morphed into groans of pleasure, I knew I was hitting his prostate, and swung harder.
His inner muscles clenched around my throbbing cock as he began panting, pushing back to me, meeting me halfway. “I…ffuuucking…hate…yooou.”
“Hate me, but not enough to tell me to stop,” I taunted.
“No.” His soft eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Guess you got your fucking wish. I let you destroy me.”
The words exploded in my sternum, stealing my breath.
I was going to explode. The perfect way he took me, the flawless sensation of having him clenched around me like an iron fist… My entire existence shrank to this moment, to his body, to having him writhing and moaning under me, knowing Katya could never, ever do this to him.
Reaching for his cock between us, I grasped it in my fist.
He sobbed, but kept riding my dick, rolling his hips, meeting me thrust for thrust as he sought his release. He arched into my touch, craving the sickness I dished out to him, and loathing me all the same.
I gave his cock one stroke that ended with a squeeze to his crown. He exploded, spraying his seed all over my chest and neck. I darted my tongue to lick some of it that got on my chin, my eyes never wavering from his.
I smiled. A humorless, dejected, awful smile. “You hate me?”
He nodded, disgust dripping from his chiseled features.
“That’s all right, kid. I hate me, too.”
I unloaded so hard in his ass that I felt myself pulsing inside him.
We were both breathless when I grabbed my dick and slowly slid out of him. He winced. I stared down at his hole. It looked red and bruised, dripping with my cum. I used the tip of my finger and tucked it back inside.
Then I collapsed next to him and tumbled back to reality.