Page 19 of The Brat's Bargain

"Please, Daddy," he begged shamelessly, pushing his hips back in a brazen invitation. "Need your cock in me, splitting me open. Wanna feel you in my throat, Daddy please?—"

His broken babbling dissolved into a scream as Damien shoved in to the hilt in one relentless thrust. It was just this side of too much, bordering on pain. The sheer size of him, stretching Antonio impossibly wide, pressing against his prostate like a brand.

"Tight," Damien grunted, fingertips digging bruisingly into Antonio's hips. "Tight and hot and perfect. Gonna ruin this little cunt for anyone else. Fill you up over and over until you're sloppy and dripping with my cum. Is that what you want, baby boy?"

"Yes, Daddy, please," Antonio cried, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush. The overwhelming sensation of being so completely filled, so thoroughly claimed, sent sparks of pleasure shooting through him. "Need you to ruin me. Make me yours."

Damien's growl was pure possessive hunger. He pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in so hard Antonio saw stars. Each thrust drove Antonio forward on the bed, his cries muffled by the pillow as Damien's cock hit that sweet spot inside him over and over.

"You're mine," Damien rasped, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust. "My good boy. My bratty little prince. Only Daddy gets to fuck you like this. Only Daddy gets to hear you scream."

Damien set a punishing pace, each snap of his hips driving the air from Antonio's lungs. It was hard and fast and filthy, the obscene slap of skin on skin echoing through the room. Antonio could only hang on for dear life, sobbing and writhing on Damien's cock as the older man took him apart piece by piece.

"Look at you," Damien growled, one hand fisting in Antonio's hair, forcing his back into a deep arch. "Taking Daddy's cock so well, like you were made for it. Like this needy little hole belongs to me."

"Yes," Antonio babbled, too far gone to be embarrassed. He clenched down around Damien's thick length, relishing the broken moan it earned him. "Yours, Daddy. All yours. Ahh, fuck, right there, don't stop?—"

Damien hammered into him, zeroing in on that sensitive bundle of nerves. Pleasure sparked white-hot behind Antonio's eyelids with each perfect thrust. His cock throbbed between his legs, smearing the sheets with precum.

The hand in his hair gentled, petting him even as Damien's hips pistoned faster. "Does my baby boy want to come? Wanna make a mess all over Daddy's sheets like the desperate little cumslut you are?"

The degradation, delivered in that low, silky growl, just pushed Antonio higher. His balls drew up tight, every muscle quivering on the knife's edge of orgasm. "Please, Daddy, I need it. Need to come on your cock, paint me with it, wanna feel you dripping out of me, please?—"

Damien snarled, the grip on Antonio's hip tightening to the point of pain. "Do it," he commanded roughly. "Come for Daddy, now. Let me feel this ass squeeze the cum out of me."

One, two, three more brutal thrusts and Antonio was gone. His vision whited out as ecstasy ripped through him, cock spurting untouched all over the sheets. He clenched down hard, muscles rippling around Damien's pistoning length.

"Fuck!" Damien roared, slamming in to the hilt and grinding deep. Antonio felt him swell, twitching, before molten heat flooded his insides.

Damien fucked him through it, using his limp, shaking body to milk every last drop. Each small thrust sent electric aftershocks skittering up Antonio's spine, oversensitized nerves singing with mingled pleasure and pain.

Finally, with a shuddering groan, Damien stilled. He draped his bulk over Antonio's back, mouthing hot, open kisses across his sweat-slick shoulders. Antonio moaned weakly as Damien's cock slipped free, a thick rush of cum following in its wake.

Strong arms gathered him up, pulling him to lay against a broad, furry chest. Antonio went willingly, too wrung out to do anything but burrow into Damien's warmth. The older man stroked soothing hands up and down his back, murmuring sweet praise into his hair.

"My good boy. My perfect baby, you did so well for Daddy." Damien nuzzled into Antonio's throat, inhaling deeply. "So proud of you, pet. You're mine now, all mine. Daddy's going to take such good care of you."

In the hazy aftermath of the most intense orgasm of his life, wrapped up safe in Damien's arms, Antonio couldn't find it in himself to argue. He felt owned, claimed, cherished in a way he never had before.

Maybe it was twisted, finding such comfort in the arms of his captor. But in that moment, with Damien's cum marking him inside and out, his big hands gentle on Antonio's trembling body... he felt something slot into place. Like he'd finally found where he belonged, who he belonged to.

"Yours," he mumbled, already halfway to unconsciousness. He nuzzled into the thick pelt of Damien's chest hair, breathing in the musk of him. "My Daddy."

He felt more than heard Damien's low rumble of approval. A large hand cupped the back of his head, carding through his hair with infinite tenderness.

"That's right, baby boy. My good boy." A kiss was pressed to his temple, achingly soft. "Sleep now, little prince. Daddy's got you."

With that promise warming him down to his bones, Antonio let exhaustion take him under. He drifted off cradled against Damien's heart, the steady drum of it the perfect lullaby.

He knew, in the light of day, there would be questions. Consequences. What they'd done, what they'd become to each other, was a line that could never be uncrossed.

But for now, claimed and safe in his Daddy's arms, Antonio was content to let tomorrow worry about itself. He was exactly where he needed to be.

***-

The next morning found Antonio padding barefoot through Damien's penthouse, wrapped in nothing but a silk robe. His body ached in the most delicious ways, reminders of the night's passion written in bruises and bite marks across his skin.

He paused outside Damien's home office, hearing raised voices from within. Curiosity overrode caution, and he pressed closer to the door, straining to make out the words.

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