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Mack pulled out and then shoved slowly in again. Ben trembled underneath him. “Don’t lie,” he whispered, his voice harsh. “If I grab your cock, I’d feel just how much you love it. Your eyes have been begging for me to fuck you all day long.”
“No,” Ben started but Mack reached around and grabbed his cock, rubbing his thumb across the precum that was beaded on the tip and massaging it up and down Ben’s shaft.
Ben’s breath hitched and he bucked back against Mack, driving Mack’s cock further up his ass.
“That’s too bad.” Mack let go of Ben’s dick and he immediately whimpered. “Slave boys who don’t do what they’re told don’t get treats.”
“No, Master. I’ll be good, I swear.”
“Too late. Fuck your hand. Show me how much you want to please me. Make me believe it.”
Mack dropped his lips back to Ben’s neck, kissing around to the side and then sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Ben loved being marked. He said it showed everyone who he belonged to.
“You’re mine and you’ll do whatever I say,” Mack rasped into Ben’s ear before latching onto his neck again.
“Yes, Master,” Ben gasped, his voice reedy with need. “I belong to you.”
Mack felt the moment Ben gave in. This was the moment every night built toward—Ben resisting until he finally consented out loud. Only then would he see to his own pleasure. For whatever reason, Ben needed it that way. Every time. Mack suspected it had everything to do with that fucking bastard, Bone, but he never said that out loud.
“Then show me,” Mack said. “Fist your cock. And tell me who you belong to.”
“I’m yours,” Ben gasped, and even though Mack couldn’t see, he knew Ben was jacking himself off. “Forever.”
Mack’s cock surged and he grabbed Ben’s hips while he tried his damndest not to fuck Ben as hard and quick as he wanted.
Especially when Ben moaned his name. “Mackenzie.” Not Master. In the last moments it was always Mackenzie.
Mack felt it hit his balls.
“Come,” he ordered harshly. Ben squeezed on Mack’s cock and bucked before letting out an agonized gasp. Mack forced himself to keep fucking Ben slowly.
He’d learned how to come this way. Slow and steady. Feeling the moment of Ben’s pleasure and his cock inevitably responding. He felt the cum lighting up his cock and he grunted as he shoved to the hilt again. Then it hit and he pumped in and out. Once. Twice.
Ben all but collapsed beneath him and Mack rolled them so they were on their sides, spooning.
Mack yanked the sheet over them. Nothing made him sleep better than coming hard. He was almost asleep when he heard Ben’s voice.
“I’d die in here without you.”
Mack stiffened. “Don’t fucking say that.”
“It’s true,” Ben said. And then quieter. “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. I’ll love you to my dying day.”
Mack’s stomach clenched. “Stop talking about dying.”
Ben went quiet after that.
Mack felt the words left unsaid. He knew Ben did too, though he never complained that Mack never told him he loved him back.
Mack snaked his arm around Ben’s stomach and pulled him close.
Not knowing how much he’d come to regret not telling Ben he loved him that night.
Because the very next day, Ben was shanked in the yard.
By Bone’s newest cellmate. Mack had been inside on assigned kitchen duty. He had to hear secondhand about how Ben had bled out right where he fell in the dirt. All alone in his last moments. He was dead before the medic even got on the scene.
The day following, Bone grinned at Mack from across the room. It was then Mack decided that if it was the last thing he ever did on earth, he’d put that motherfucker in the ground.
