Page 152 of Love at First Fright

The ancient bed springs protested, frame groaning like it might collapse under my sudden weight shift. I buried my face into the musty pillow, breathing dust and decades of other people’s dreams whilst I shook.

Bat moved behind me. Positioned himself, blunt head nudging my entrance—cooler than living flesh, but solid. Real. Surprisingly thick for someone so scrawny. The stretch was going to burn. Leave me feeling it for hours afterwards. Maybe days.

I really, really, hoped we could do this again later. And maybe again after that.

“Bear down for me, baby.”

I pressed back, muscles relaxing as much as they could. The tip slipped past my rim—tears pricking hot behind my eyelids—but I ignored the sharp edge of it, pushed myself back, encouraging him deeper, quicker, harder.

His hands locked on my hips. Impossibly strong as he stilled me. He leaned forward, teeth grazing my shoulder blade. “Be good for me and stop that.”

“But—” Words failed me as he pushed inside. Slowly. So bloody slowly I thought I might fracture from it. The curve of his cock dragged against me, and I could already tell—he was going to hit my prostate dead on. This was going to absolutely wreck me.

I panted into the pillow, small whining sounds escaping despite my best efforts to stay quiet. He filled me inch by devastating inch, the burn of the stretch making my toes curl.

Then Bat gripped my hips and drove the final inches home in one brutal thrust.

“Yes!” The cry tore from my chest as my hole clenched around the base of his cock. So full. So utterly owned. Like he was splitting me open, claiming every part of me. His fingers dug into my hip bones, holding me fast, keeping me from pulling away from the overwhelming fullness.

He shuffled forward, closing every gap between us. Cold legs pressed against mine, hip bones sharp against my ass. My nipples scraped against the threadbare duvet, another layer to the sensory assault.

“Like this?” he whispered against my ear.

I tried to answer but only managed a broken whimper. My aching cock hung heavy beneath me, precum already beading at the tip.

“You’re so bloody gorgeous, Charlie.” Bat’s voice dropped low. Reverent. “Wanted to fuck you since the moment you set foot in this manor. And that was before I heard you play guitar.”

My hole tightened around him involuntarily, drawing a hiss from his lips. I was so close already, balls drawn tight. It had been too long since I’d been properly fucked, and Bat filled me so exquisitely I thought I might come before he even started moving.

“You’re doing so amazing. Just as good as I knew you would be.”

The bedframe creaked ominously as he shifted his weight, testing the angle. One of the springs beneath us gave an alarming twang, a single discordant note.

“This bed’s going to break,” I managed between ragged breaths.

“Oh, I bloody hope so,” he growled.

Bat held himself deep, buried to the hilt whilst I quivered. The stretch burned perfectly, like he’d been made to fit inside me. Then his mouth found my left shoulder blade—soft kisses that made me arch into the mattress. He moved to the right, same gentle attention, before dragging his tongue up my spine between them. A slow, deliberate stripe right to my nape.

“I can’t taste you,” he murmured against my neck. “But holy shit, your smell. I want to drown in it.”

His breath ghosted cool across my heated skin, raising goosebumps down my arms. No warmth from him at all—just that impossible chill that somehow made everything more intense.

Then his fingers tangled in my hair.

“Can I—” He tugged gently, testing. “Like this?”

The pull sent electricity straight to my cock. I leaked onto the duvet, adding to the growing wet spot beneath me. “Yes.” The word came out strangled. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

He wound my hair around his fist—once, twice—until I felt that wonderful burn across my scalp. Then he yanked hard enough to lift my head from the mattress, forcing my neck back. The angle made his cock shift inside me, pressing against something that drilled stars behind my eyelids.

“Fuck!” I clawed at the sheets, white-knuckled.

Pinned on both ends now—stuffed full of Bat’s cock, held fast by his grip in my hair. Entirely at his mercy.

“Please.” My voice came out wrecked already. “Please, Bat. Fuck me properly.”

He released my hair long enough to brace his hands on either side of my shoulders. Leaned down to snarl against my ear. “Grab the headboard.”