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Craig paid a heavy price for his pleasure.
Time has passed, the sun is in a different position outside his window, and the exhaustion he’s been able to ignore over the last few days is pouring in at the corners and making his limbs heavy, and his eyes want to remain closed.
But Craig is under him, asleep or just quiet and in a submissive headspace, he isn’t sure which one. He has to get up. He has to feed Craig, get them both hydrated, and then get them both to sleep.
Craig’s neck is covered in blood. The wounds have stopped bleeding, but there are also streaks of dried blood on his back from where Sam let him go and then pressed his lips to Craig’s skin before the experience dragged him under.
His poor boy was used hard indeed. As agreeable and submissive as Craig is, it would be almost impossible for this to have been okay. Barbed, savaged, and trapped under him, locked down, his own needs ignored.
Claimed for good.
Bonded.
He remembers Craig mewling, twitching under him, begging Sam to come, to ride him, and Sam had just drifted away.
His submissive had needed him and cried for him, and Sam hadn’t been able to care for Craig when he needed it.
It’s unacceptable and pathetic.
“Daddy?” Craig mumbles as Sam shifts his weight on top of him, testing their tie. The name “Daddy” makes it worse. A perfect reminder of who he’s supposed to be to Craig—the responsibility and care he owes his boy—and how badly of a job he’s done. Shame overwhelms him, and he wants to flee, pull out, walk away, and get himself together so he can present a better version of himself.
He knows better than to walk away. He’ll have to deal with his own shame. God knows he deserves it.
“You’re okay,” Sam rasps and presses a kiss to Craig’s back. “Let’s get you free,” he says and lifts his chest, moving slowly to separate them.
Craig gasps and presses his face into the bedding, the muscles of his back standing out as he flexes and tests his upper body and limited range of motion.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. I weigh too much to have passed out on top of you like that. I didn’t expect to be out that long,” Sam says, feeling like an asshole and hating that he has to confess his mistake to Craig. “If I’d known how that would take me, I would have had you on your side. Sorry, Craig.”
It’s the most inadequate apology.
He’ll sheath against the barbs next time. What submissive could be happy with how far that went?
Not only was Sam selfish and careless of his submissive, but it was their first real mating as a bonded pair.
“I didn’t mind,” Craig finally says, and Sam can’t place his tone. But the back of his neck is getting red with embarrassment.
The knot is down, the barbs gone, and he’s able to pull out of Craig easily. He watches his cock come out and wants to see that first clench as Craig’s body tries to tighten up again. Craig is on a tilt because of the pillow, but it doesn’t stop a few sluggish pulses of come from seeping out of him and spilling down his taint.
Craig tugs hard against the wrist cuffs, and Sam puts a hand on the small of his back to settle him. “Easy now. Are you going to fight if I let you up?”
“Fight? No, of course not,” he says and then humps at the pillow ineffectually. “I’m losing it all!” he says, a little frantic. “Oh god, let me up!”
Sam undoes the cuffs on his thighs, and Craig shoves upward, getting his knees under him and raising his ass in the air so he won’t lose the come that’s left.
“My hands,” he demands before Sam can unclip him.
It wasn’t Craig trying to come or get access to his cock, which is what Sam expected after having been denied for that long, but an attempt to keep Sam’s come.
Which is unbelievably adorable.
Sam gets the cuffs unclipped and finally gets a proper look at Craig’s face. The expression is close to terror, and he collapses toward Sam, wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck and accidentally shoving his knee into Sam’s stomach as Craig clumsily tries to straddle him.
Sam goes back to the bed with an “oof,” hauling Craig’s thigh over him, and Craig settles close with a desperate squirm.
Craig presses kisses to Sam’s jaw and neck, shoving his face tight into the hollow of Sam’s throat, and wet tears soak his neck.
His poor boy.
