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“I think someone needs to be punished,” he told me, and fuck yeah, that was way better than cracking open my trust issues.
“Yeah. Better punish me for all the dirty things I was thinking in the locker room. For checking out all those big dicks and tight holes I haven’t had a piece of yet.”
His face was a little slow to catch up, just stunned at first and I wondered if I was just straight up being an asshole thinking that saying shit like that was hot. But then he worked through surprised and curious to agreeable and excited with a whole three-act play going on in his eyebrows. The scrutiny was almost too much for me, not gonna lie, but theOh really, thenface he landed on was worth feeling under a microscope.
“Okay, brat. You wanna play? We’ll play.”
I had zero patience, zero chill, and I swear he was moving in slow motion as he crawled up the bed and climbed on top of me. And then shit got real, less dreamy, more straight up fantasy as he stared down at me hard, narrowing those pretty eyes and owning me so dirty.
“You don’t need to worry about anybody else,” he told me, unbuttoning my jeans, ripping the zipper open and yanking them down hard, not waiting for me to lift up before he had them at my knees. He didn’t take his eyes off mine at all, like tearing my clothes off wasn’t even important, and up against his dirty talk, it sure wasn’t. “You’remy boy. Nobody touches you but me. And you don’t even think about touching anyone else or there’s gonna be big trouble. You. Are. Mine.”
He had almost a sixth sense about what I liked, or maybe I was just so bold face obvious anyone could tell. My dick was so hard it was bordering on scary. I wasn’t just hot for being wanted. Not just horny for toxic, trashy, possessive shit, it was like there was a defect in me, like I was legit malnourished when it came to belonging somewhere. I just wanted to hear that wordmineover and over. I started squirming and thrusting underneath him, looking for some attention, but getting a whole lot of frustration instead.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, looking down at me, licking his lips. “You don’t think I’m gonna touch you yet, do you? Not when you’ve been teasing me all day long.”
I lifted my hips, shoved my dick at him so hard my hamstrings fucking ached, and tried to make a pitiful feel-sorry-for-me sound, but all that came out was a big lusty groan.
He just laughed and pushed me back down, the asshole. “Listen to you whine, my poor, spoiled baby. Wanna be touched so bad, don’t you.”
I nodded, playing along but not playing at all becausefuck, no one made me feel like this. No one made mewantlike this, that casual hand on my thigh almost fucking sending me. “Come on. Come on, touch me.” It sounded like begging because it was. “Please.”
He almost smiled, but not quite, keeping that just out of reach too. “Who do you belong to, you little tease? Not anybody in that locker room. Let me hear you say it.”
“You,” I whined, lifting up again, begging with my eyes this time. “I’m all yours.” God, I meant it, too. I loved talking trash, loved this twisted, pretend jealousy shit that turned us both on so hard, but Jesus, I just wanted to be hisso bad.
“That’s right. You’re all mine. Andyou. Are going tolearn. How tobehave,” he told me, his words all rough and grinding as he pulled away to work my jeans the rest of the way off me, grabbing my shirt and tugging it off too.
He stopped to stare once I was mostly naked. I looked like fucking candy in my bright new whites, irre-goddamn-sistible, and after a minute he broke, dragged his fingers down the front of my shorts, and I groaned like I was dying. He moved on to drag his nails along my obliques, tracing my ripples like he was finger painting me.
His touch got light like a whisper when he got to the bruises on my ribs from knees and helmets, and again when he got to my shoulder, that mark that wouldn’t fucking die, and I sank into the bed a little, wincing even though none of it hurt that much. The attention hurt more, his eyes hungry and thirsty and completely uninterested in anything but me. It felt so good and also like it was never going to be enough.
With just his fingertips, he brushed soft, tiny touches all over me until I was practically in a trance, vibrating so hard I wasn’t sure I was still in my body. Until he grabbed me around both wrists, wrapping his fingers tight, pulling my arms up and pinning them over my head and holy shit, suddenly I wasrightthere,completelythere, reality so vivid no way could it be real, and I moaned so loud I scared myself.
It wasn’t even right how much I liked it when he held me down hard like that. Shook me to my fucking core, like a whole deeper layer of being his, some real kidnappy shit, and yeah, nobody ever said my layers were healthy, who fucking cared.
This hadn’t ever reallyseemedlike something I’d like. Overpowered and trapped just seemed like the opposite of what I was about. I’d been those things. Iwasthose things. It was frustrating and claustrophobic.
But I hadn’t ever had this reference point before. Being trapped somewhere I wanted to be. Held in place by someone I didn’twantto let me go. I didn’t feel confined at all with him holding me down. I felt… free.
I fucking loved all that weight on top of me, his big ass body bossing me around, teasing and punishing. Ilovedgetting to pretend I only liked being controlled and feeling small because he made me. Because he was so big and strong and rough there was nothing I could do about it, and damn, was any part of me not fucked up?
He watched me hard for a minute and then bent lower, close enough to kiss if I moved just a little, but I stayed still. Waited. Just breathed and existed and nothing else because somehow my body was coming apart I was so excited, but I was still so goddamn relaxed it was a struggle to keep my eyes open all the way.
“Tell me where you belong.” His voice was soft and slow, and his lips skimmed over mine, and fuck, I wasthrobbing. Dick, heart, pulse, everywhere— he had to feel it. Fuck, he had tohearit.
He pulled back and waited, and I opened my mouth and licked at my lips, lots of answers there, but I couldn’t quite get them out. That question was just a little bit different thantell me who you belong to. Different enough to trip me up because I knew it wasn’t any accident. He waited, but I couldn’t force it out, just shook my head and he spread a patient smile all over me.
“If you don’t know the answer, I’ll tell you.” His voice was soft with a rough edge that raised the hair on my arms and the back of my neck with goosebumps even while the rest of me was warm. “You belong here. With me. This house, this room, this bed. Right here. You might not believe me yet, and I understand that, but you will. I wanted you, I took you, and now you’re mine,” he said, knowing just what I wanted to hear.
I swallowed a moan that shivered all through my insides, and his fingers tightened around my wrists. Slowly, so slowly, he lowered himself down onto me, his big warm body covering mine, consuming me like I could disappear inside him, crushing me just a little.
“Now...” He kissed my jaw. “I’ll ask you again...” And then my neck. “Where do you belong?” Every word was hard and heavy, and he pinched my wrists tighter with every pause between them, keeping my arms in a no-way-out hold, and fuck, that was just where I liked them, feeling helpless and owned.
“Here,” I managed to get out, and my voice sounded echoey and far away. “With you.”
“Good boy. Very good boy.”
He kissed me finally, and it was slow, but it wasn’t soft. Kissing him was already a mindfuck. But kissing him while he pinned me down, using his size as leverage to keep me still, keep me safe, that was something seriously brain melting.
