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I draw him forward with the crook of my fingers until I can grip his hips and pull him over my lap. His skin is broken out in goosebumps, tender under my touch as his body jerks. I flash my eyes up to see him staring at my hands.
They slide down his thighs, inspecting marks and gripping tight when his legs start to tremble. My mouth finds itself tracing the dark marks on his ribs, pressing my tongue to every fingerprint on his abdomen.
Hands land in my hair, and I bring mine to his ass. I feel for any abrasions, giving a solid smack to both cheeks when I don’t find any open wounds.
His skin tastes like salt and alcohol. Even if he stayed sober, the men who touched him didn’t. I’ll have to remember to get him in a shower after.
He tightens his grip and jerks my head up, chest pushed out like he’s asking a question he can’t voice. I drag my lips up his sternum and watch more of his walls crumble when I flick my tongue over his nipple.
“If you want something, sweetheart, speak up.”
His face contorts, but then he lowers himself to my lap and gasps. I feel the heat of him over my semi-interested cock, but I also hear the way air whistles through his teeth and feel the way his body locks up.
“You’re not ready.”
He shakes his head and tries to rock his hips, but the first drag of friction makes him cry out with a loud curse.
Figuring he’s in no place to listen, I grip him with an arm around his waist and another on the back of his neck and stand. His fingers threaten to tear the hair from my head, so I swiftly move us to the bunk and lay him across the mattress.
Innocent isn’t usually a word I use for Shiloh. Faux innocence at times maybe, but never on its own. But with his dark curls fanned out around his face, lips parted in a silent ‘oh’, and his eyes blown wide, vulnerable innocence is all I see.
“If I were a weaker man, I’d take you.” I lower my face to his neck and start covering him in wet kisses. “Fuck the pain out of you until mine is the only one you remember.”
“Why don’t you?” he gasps.
I want to be gentle with him, but I know even now he needs more than that.
“Because when I ruin you,” I say as I blow a warm breath in his ear, “I want all of the credit.”
The desire in his eyes is unmistakable, but there’s a darkness holding it hostage.
I sit up and scoot back until I’m kneeling between his thighs spread just wide enough for me to fit.
“Hold your legs for me, sweetheart,” I say, pushing his knees up with my palms. “If you can’t, I’ll get the restraints.”
Those dark pits shine back at me as he grapples for the backs of his thighs. Spread out for me, Shiloh looks every bit the submissive brat I’d love to turn him into.
He doesn’t flinch when my hands cup his ass and give it a firm squeeze. Though, there’s a slight twitch when I press my thumbs to the crease of his inner thighs and slide upward.
His breaths come in deep, slow exhales, and I’m gentle as can be when I touch the outside of his hole and spread him wider.
“No!” Shiloh jerks his legs closed, and I drop my hands to my thighs while he wraps his arms around himself.
He pulls his knees to his chest and buries his face in them. For a long moment, there’s no sound other than Shiloh’s labored breathing, but then his head thunks against the pillow with a frustrated grunt.
“Safeword?”
I can nearly feel the resistance radiating off of him.
Another deep breath.
His legs fall open, but he doesn’t pull them up.
“Restraints.”
His voice is strong, determined.
That’s my boy.
