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Odin wanted to strip off his shirt so he could see him naked, but there was something about the disheveled look that also called to his cock. He slipped a hand between Hunter’s thighs to fondle his balls, starting with gentle caresses that turned to harder groping. He played with him, tugging and massaging, listening to the way Hunter’s gasps heightened.
“Snow,” he choked on the word, seemingly struggling, “please.”
He pulled him off the table and shoved him down to the ground on his knees, fingers tangling in Hunter’s hair and tugging until he was staring up at him.
“Remember the Room with a View, Huntsman?” Odin had brought him there that night to humiliate him, forcing him to watch as another man blew him. The job had been so bad, he’d gotten someone else brought in after, but she’d known what she was doing and it must have shown because not too far into her work Odin had noticed the lust-filled haze in Hunter’s eyes.
“You threatened to choke me,” Hunter said, noticeably gulping.
“With my cock,” he grinned, glad he wasn’t the only one who’d left that night with an impression.
“The one meant for me,” Hunter added.
“Trying to get on my good side now so I’ll go easy on you, Little Whisper?” He clicked his tongue. “I don’t think so.”
“Pick a nickname and stick with it.” It wasn’t the first time he was making that particular demand, but it went unheeded all the same.
Odin liked what it did to him, how it threw Hunter off his game, even if for only a split second, as if his brain automatically scrambled to find a pattern. A method to Odin’s madness. Truthfully, there wasn’t one. He called him in the heat of the moment, just whatever felt right and whatever slipped past his lips.
His cock hung heavy, jutting up between them, and Odin shifted forward, pulling on Hunter’s scalp at the same time so his face hovered closer to his engorged member. He stroked himself, gathering a sticky drop of precome and slicking it down the long length of his cock, smirking when Hunter’s gaze homed in on the motion, and he gulped a second time.
“Take a deep breath,” he ordered, then almost before Hunter could comply, forced his mouth down onto his swollen cockhead. He pressed it against his lips and tugged his hair again, causing Hunter to gasp. The second he did, Odin shoved himself in, gliding against the Huntsman’s tongue as he struggled to ease the way for him.
Still, he glared even as more and more of that cock entered his mouth and he stretched his lips around Odin’s girth.
When he bumped the back of his throat and Hunter gagged, Odin retreated, pulling out slowly, moaning when that tongue skated across the underside of his cock. Then he drove himself back in, leveraging his hold on Hunter to keep him steady as he rocked his hips.
It wasn’t long before Hunter was sputtering around him, tears and saliva dripping down his face.
“Suck,” Odin growled, eyes fluttering shut when Hunter immediately started doing so, hollowing his cheeks.
Now and again his teeth lightly grazed against Odin’s highly sensitive skin, and he used his tongue on him skillfully, lapping and stroking, chasing after him every time Odin withdrew. He’d thought for sure he was going to put up more of a fight for this, thrilled that he hadn’t, and by the notion it meant Hunter had most likely been just as greedy to blow him as he’d been to experience it.
He was so caught up in it, he almost forgot about his other plans, almost buried himself deep, and held Hunter over him.
Almost.
Odin pulled Hunter off him suddenly and lifted him, turning to set him back on the table, this time on his beaten ass.
Hunter yelped and tried to stand, but Odin shoved him back down and gave him a warning look. For a second, the Huntsman remained taught, as if he was going to try and make a break for it the moment Odin removed the palm keeping him pinned, but then the tension eased and he made himself go lax.
Odin grinned at him and tweaked one of his nipples for good measure, laughing when that had Hunter’s hips jerking and his dick twitching.
With his pants still caught, there was no way for Odin to get between his legs and he lifted them, bending Hunter on the table to expose his bright red ass to his gaze once more.
“Hold yourself up for me,” Odin demanded, doing it himself while Hunter hesitated. “There’s no room for your pride here, Huntsman. Do you want to get fucked or not?”
Hunter moved to grip just beneath the crease of his knees, pulling toward himself as if in silent offering. The switch from mild resistance to full-on obedience worked for them both. His face was bright red to match his ass now, and he was still sucking in deep breaths, recovering from having his oxygen practically cut off by Odin’s cock. He looked messed up and wanton, presenting his hole to him despite the handprints that still painted his flesh.
“Huntsman, Little Whisper, baby,” he taunted, stroking himself in the process. The sound of him slicking his precome and the remaining strings of Hunter’s saliva down his shaft easily alerted the other man to what he was up to. “I’ll call you whatever I want. Now, who’s your Shout, baby?”
Hunter pressed his lips into a stubborn line.
He pushed on his under thigh so Hunter’s ass was lifted even more and then gave him another sharp whack that had him howling. “Let’s try that again.”
“You are,” Hunter caved, voice husky even as the tears returned at the corner of his eyes and he continued to glower up at him. “You’re my Shout.”
“Who gets to fuck you?”
