Page 22 of His Captor

Billy laughed. “My family is used to better,” he said, smirking at something in his memories. “I could be happy with pretty much anything.”

That didn’t tell me much of anything.

“Are they missing you?” I asked. “This wasn’t supposed to last so long.”

“No, it’s alright,” Billy said, shifting in his chair. He was starting to turn a little pink. I assumed his next heat wave was coming on. “I’m not scheduled to fly home until Monday night.”

“You know it’s Sunday night—no, early Monday morning right now,” I said, glancing past him to the clock on the wall.

“Is it?” Billy turned to check the time. “Wow! Time flies when you’re fucking your brains out.”

He laughed. I laughed with him. I still didn’t have the slightest idea about who he was or where he came from. Somewhere far enough away that he had to fly to get there.

So I guess I wouldn’t accidentally run into him on the street one day in a few months. We wouldn’t gape in surprise at seeing each other, then share a secret, naughty smile as we remembered where we’d last met. There would be no movie-worthy meet-cute where we exchanged real names and went for a cup of coffee, then covertly checked each other out as we talked about mundane things while remembering what we each looked like naked and?—

“I hate to drag you out of whatever thoughts are making you grin like that, but my next wave is starting, and I think it’s going to be a doozy,” Billy said, suddenly breathing heavily.

“Got it,” I said, pushing my empty sandwich plate back and downing the last of my glass of water. “Let’s return to your interrogation.”

Billy laughed loudly as he stood and pushed his chair back. The back of his robe was already damp with slick. The chair must have been, too, because he took one look at it and laughed again.

I would never, until my dying day, forget that laugh.

“Do you want to check in with your second before we go on?” I asked as we headed back into the bedroom.

My own phone was on the bureau in the bedroom. I detoured to pick it up.

I only had time to see a bunch of missed messages and calls from Colin, one of them with a preview that said, “You’d better get your ass over here now or—”, before Billy dropped to his knees in front of me.

“I need some cock to wash down that sandwich,” he said in a thick, breathless voice as he tore through the tie of my robe.

I tossed my phone back on the bureau, forgetting Colin entirely.

Moments later, as I leaned back, bracing against the edge of the bureau, Billy parted my robe and licked a wet lick from the inside of one knee, all the way up my thigh to my balls. I tipped my head back and groaned as he mouthed one ball. He was too impatient to carry on with that, opting to skip right to sucking my swiftly hardening cock straight to the back of his throat.

Even after two solid days of sex, it still felt so good to have Billy’s hungry mouth working around me. In no time at all, I felt primed and ready and desperate to reach for that ineffable something that had been so close, but just out of reach, during his last couple of heat waves.

Billy seemed anxious for it, too. Instead of sucking and slurping and swallowing until I came down his throat, he scrambled back, only standing when his back hit the side of the bed. His robe was already untied, and the sight of his slim, pale, pink, and leaking body had me growling like the ancient beasts we’d apparently evolved from.

“Just the anticipation of it feels so good,” Billy panted as I shrugged out of my robe and paced toward him. “Fuck fantasies constructed through an app. Right now, my only fantasy is you in me, strong and hard, bending me to your will, making me?—”

I didn’t let him get farther than that. I yanked the robe from his shoulders then pushed him back. He fell willingly to his back, throwing his arms and legs wide.

There were no restraints, no cuffs or ropes, metal or silk. There was only Billy’s beautiful, pulsing body as I grabbed his legs and pushed them wide, lifting his hips as I did. I tugged him to the edge of the bed, securing him with my strength alone, then guided my cock straight to his red, gaping, dripping hole.

It was all a blur from there. I thrust into him, and Billy let out a primal cry that was pleasure and pain, victory and surrender. I didn’t stop, regardless of his cries, knowing he wouldn’t want me to. I pushed in, harder and faster and deeper, watching his contorted expression of pleasure and endurance as I did. I watched the changes in his body as it flushed and tensed.

When he started to come, spilling thin, pearly spurts all over his belly, I increased my thrusts. I shifted to lean over him, his ankles caught on my upper arms, bending him nearly in half. I kept going like an animal in rut, bathed in his scent, desperate to be one with him.

And then it happened. As my knot burst to fill, locking us tightly, the resistance I’d been hitting for two days gave way. Suddenly, I wasall the wayinside him, inside his womb, and it was like a supernova.

I’d never come like that before. It wasn’t just like my soul shooting from my body through my cock. It was like my entire being turned itself inside out with pleasure and fused with the space and time where Billy existed. To call the sensations pulsing through me pleasure didn’t come close.

Billy felt the same way. Literally, I was sure. For those powerful, intense moments as I pumped his womb full of cum, I could feel what he felt, sense what he sensed. For those startling few seconds, we were the same being.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Hayden

---