Page 17 of Trapped

Nuzzling the back of his head with my mouth, wishing we could remove our masks already and really get to see each other, I simply smile.

Patience.

“What does that mean, papillon? You want to join our brotherhood?” My hand’s now shaped into a fist I use to glide over Robin’s cock. He stutters and wriggles, annoyed and aroused, fighting and surrendering at the same time. But his wings are still glued to the web, his mind not set free yet.

“Why does that feel like a trick question?” He grunts, sounding both intoxicated and aroused. My favorite combination.

“Ah, because maybe it is?” I mouth some more kisses onto his clothed shoulder, revelling in the sweet sounds he’s making under me. “Nah, just kidding. But you do realize that I chose you, right?” Trailing my other hand up under his jacket, only to reach for his back dimples and slip my fingers under the waistband in search for more bare, warm skin.

Robin bucks when I find what I’m looking for, tightening the glue of the thread onto his body even more, despite his writhing.

“Hmm, you feel good under my touch,” I croon. “Have you ever played with your ass before?”

“No—what are you—” Once more, he tries to turn and glare over his shoulder, but my mouth is waiting, pressing my lips against his while my fist keeps on stroking. Robin bucks and fights, and I swallow his moans in the sea of heat that floods through my stomach. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want him. Pulling back, our lips remain close as we pant harshly, our breaths intermingling.

“Fucking love it when you wriggle like this, pretty boy,” I murmur. “Now, come, fight me some more. Gets me all hard.”

“No,” he chokes, but when my hand reaches out to cup one of his ass cheeks, I am pleased to find his cock pulse in my palm. Grabbing the bottle of lube from my pocket, I keep my head against his nape, teeth scraping his tender skin.

“You know what I think, papillon? I think this is why you’re so angry. Because of this desire.”

“What are you talking about?” He snarls, but I don’t miss the way his delicate skin blushes.

“Is it because you feel attracted to boys? Or are you secretly shy with everyone?”

The heat on Robin’s flesh intensifies, and he goes back to writhing, pushing and pulling. Only this time I can feel the desperation, the prickliness that is built around his delicate aura like some wall of thorns.

“Don’t worry, my beautiful butterfly. I will let you fly. Your brothers will set you free.” With a solid pull, his pants and underwear roll easily down onto his knees, and Robin lets out a surprised snarl.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I ignore him. After giving his dick a final, thorough, long stroke with my fist, I return my hand to his ass. His beautiful, round, juicy ass. “Fuck me, gorgeous, how come you’ve been hiding this from everybody? You are absolutely perfect.” Not wasting a precious second, I slide down onto my knees, ready to worship that beautiful ass with my hands and mouth.

“My brothers are going to be so fucking jealous when they see my chosen one, papillon,” I mumble, spreading his cheeks apart until his tiny hole winks at me. It’s too dark to cherish the full intensity of the soft pink spot, but there will be plenty of time for that later tonight. “Their hands will itch and their mouths will water.” As if to make a point, I collect some of my saliva, then leave a perfect, thick drop of spit on his crease, before rubbing it into his skin with my index finger and thumb.

Robin lets out an unhinged shudder and stops his push and pull against the web. “Did you just… did you just spit on me?” He sounds undignified.

“Hmm, I did.” My trapped butterfly really has no experience with this. By the time we’re finished tonight, he’ll be wrecked for the rest of his life. By me. I’ll make fucking sure of that. “I am going to make you feel good, don’t worry. Just relax for me, and listen carefully while I tell you all about your new future.” I take my time rubbing the delicate seam between his ass cheeks, skin now wet with spit. He’s shivering and mumbling a string of unintelligible words that end with a strangled cry when I dip my first finger experimentally inside. Boy, he’s tight as a vise, though that shouldn’t surprise me.

“Wh—wh—” He stutters, and with that another layer of his guards peeled off. It’s fucking exhilirating. His mind is clearly still playing tricks on him, because he falls back into his incomprehensible mutters. Yeah, the drug I gave him got him good. Well, he’d better get used to it. The way his shoulders slump and his beautiful, light eyes stare into oblivion with his brain hallucinating like that? It’s fucking glorious.

Spurting some of the lubricant onto two digits, I rub them together, making sure the gel gets warmed up a little before I join my first finger with the second. Robin tenses, his words rushing out of his mouth, high and urgent, though they still don’t make any sense. His hips rock back onto my hand. His body knows what his mind has trouble processing. It’s fucking perfection.

“Our brotherhood is called the Alpha Fraternarii, and we rule this country,” I tell him, while probing with my fingers inside his ass in search of his special bundle of nerves. “Our ancestors found the fraternity during the French Revolution, when a number of elite families fled Paris and were given shelter by the monks who lived here, in Monterrey Castle.”

Robin cries out the next second, and his hips stutter as he pants before they grind back in search for more friction.

“That feels good?” I whisper.

He turns back over his shoulder, eyes glazed and his lips parted, without a doubt to snarl a reply. Instead he lets out a moan when I hit his spot again. I smirk inwardly at his reaction. So fucking responsive.

“These families promised one another that they’d never be thrown off their proverbial thrones again,” I continue, slowly sliding my fingers through his narrow, tight tunnel. Fuck, he’s so hot, and so narrow. He feels amazing, and knowing that my fingers are the very first to touch him, makes my own dick throb impatiently. “So they created a brotherhood, based on their mutual values. On our mutual values.”

“And…what are those?” Robin moans, sounding out of breath. I lean in and place kisses on his clothed back, revelling in the way his ass moves in line with my scissoring digits. Slow, thorough strokes that each hit his prostate exquisitely.

“Traditions,” I whisper against his nape, then flick out my tongue for a little taste of his bare skin. There’s the hint of saltiness from his sweat, mixed with something sweeter, like green melon, though it's faint. Perhaps his cologne.

“Loyalty.” My teeth come out to play, nipping at his flesh, while Robin bucks and mewls. Snaking my free hand out in front of his waist, I grab hold once more of his naked, throbbing cock. The tip is wet at once, and I swipe my thumb around it, then reach up and hold it out in front of his mouth.

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