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Hunter cried out when Odin thrust in a little harder, hitting that spot within him purposefully.
“Just like that.” He wasn’t even really sure what he was saying anymore, but nonsensical gibberish seemed to keep pouring out of his mouth, and in his sex-driven haze, Odin didn’t even consider trying to stop it from doing so. “Take me just like that. You’re being so good for me, baby. Look at the way your greedy hole swallows me up.”
A mewling sound escaped from Hunter, and Odin smirked at his back.
The Huntsman was a fan of dirty talk, it seemed. Noted.
“Where’s my name, Hunter?” he asked. “You’re riding my cock, but I’m pretty sure I mentioned I want you screaming for me.” He drove into him hard enough his body would have slid an inch off the couch if he hadn’t been holding him in place. His thrusts quickened, and with every outward stroke, he made sure he rubbed against his prostate.
“Odin.” Hunter gasped and pushed back into him, following his retreating cock, silently begging for it back.
“What’s it feel like, baby?” Odin asked. “To have me inside of you?”
“Deep,” he shocked him by answering without skipping a beat. “Thick. You feel like you’re tearing me in half but it’s not enough. I want you to go even further.” He reached back blindly and found Odin’s free hand, dragging it around until his fingers were gripping his dick.
Odin made a tsking sound and tried to pull away, but Hunter held firm. “Oh no, Little Whisper, you’re not getting off that easy. It’s too soon to let you come.”
Almost in a state of frenzy, Hunter let go of his wrist and dropped his hand to the floor. A second later, he lifted the knife, and before Odin could freeze mid-thrust at the sight of it, he held it out to him.
“Bleed me,” Hunter ordered, and then in a more whiny tone, “Shout, please. Bleed me. I want it. I want you inside of me, all of you. I want you so deep in me that there’s no chance of ever getting away. I want you to make me yours.”
He’d barely finished before Odin had snatched the knife and sliced a surface-level cut across Hunter’s shoulder, only enough for a couple of drops of blood to well to the surface and nothing more. He paused his thrusts to bring the knife to his wrist, but Hunter didn’t like that and lifted his legs to dig his heels into Odin’s ass, forcing his cock to slide all the way in.
Odin brought his bleeding wrist around to Hunter’s mouth, pressing it against his lips as he leaned down and latched onto the wound on his shoulder. That first drag was like heaven exploding on his tongue, ten million times better than any alcohol or drug on any planet in the entire universe. Power swept through him, potent and heady, only heightened by the sensation of Hunter drinking from him a second later.
He rutted into him, fucking hard enough it was going to be hard for the Huntsman to sit comfortably in the morning. But Odin was too lost to it all to consider that. He could have drained the other man dry, that was how good his blood made him feel.
Fortunately, the orgasm snuck up on them both, their mouths unlatching from flesh at the same time, their loud cries of pleasure as he shoved in deep and unloaded inside of Hunter filling the room.
Stars exploded behind Odin’s eyes as he came, and came, and came, the orgasm seemingly never-ending.
Even once it finally had, he didn’t pull out, kept his cock in place, plugging Hunter up so that not a single drop of his come could drip out. He’d collapsed against him at some point, their sweat-covered skin sticking together as he peeled himself off just enough to ensure he wasn’t crushing the man to death.
A feeling of peace and contentment, the likes of which he’d never felt before, cascaded over him, and it was like all that exhaustion, all that anxiety and tension from the day, hell from the whole damn week, vanished in a puff of smoke.
“Odin,” Hunter’s voice, tired and seemingly far away somehow only managed to add to that pleasant feeling.
The voice of a Whisper. The one he’d just bedded and bled.
His Whisper.
“Returning to our earlier conversation about not taking any steps,” Hunter continued when he didn’t receive a response, “I’m pretty sure I now can’t. So, for round two, you mind carrying me over to the bed?”
Something a lot like elation went off in Odin’s chest and his cock pulsed at the promise of more to come.
“Anything,” Odin pressed a light kiss to his shoulder, over the wound that was already closed up, “you just have to say it first. Say it, and I’ll give you anything and everything you want, Hunter Thorn. Say it.” Please, he added silently. He was so close he could practically taste it. Too close to be disappointed if—
Hunter didn’t need him to elaborate though. He knew exactly what he was after.
“Can my Shout bring me to the bed for round two?” Hunter asked, and maybe it was the earth-shattering orgasm he’d just had, but he didn’t even sound like he was mocking Odin. He sounded…genuine.
Odin took his chin and tilted his head toward him, waiting for Hunter to peel his eyes open and meet his gaze. “Because?”
Hunter’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, instantly drawing Odin’s attention to it. “Because I’m yours, and therefore your responsibility.”
“Mine,” he repeated.
“Yes,” Hunter nodded. “Yours.”
