Page 34 of Raising Hell

“Anything,” he rasps, his face slick with saliva and his vocal cords strained. “Command us to do anything, and we’ll do it. Please,” he adds, begging like the good boy he is before I thrust back into the warmth of his mouth.

“What do you want, Rory?”

He’s quiet for a few breaths, blown pupils and flushed skin, then he whispers, “I want you to come in his throat.”

A loud groan leaves me as my balls draw tight, my dick so hard it’s bordering on pain. “Louder, baby. Say it louder, and fuckingmean it.”

His eyes slam into mine as his chin lifts, almost in challenge, and I smirk at the power play from this adorable man who is a full foot shorter than me. “Come down his throat, Amon.” The command rings clear in the room, not an ounce of hesitation.

Power surges through the air, demanding my submission down to a molecular level as every single one of my muscles tenses, tightening and coiling until my teeth grit. It’s oppressive, my skin stretching and straining, trying to rupture with the pressure. My body trembles with a warning not to resist the compulsion, but I have no desire to defy it.

I want this.

Needit.

A pinprick-sized hole forms in the shield that holds me together and my hips lunge forward. Any remnants of control I had over my body are obliterated as everything erupts, a pleasure so intense that my head throws back in a shout as my vision whites. It ricochets, bouncing through me like a stray bullet, up and down my spine as my knees buckle, suddenly unable to support my weight.

I curl forward, my arms wrapping around Cas’s head and forcing myself deeper, my cock pulsing as I come and flooding his throat with a shout. Pleasure like I’ve never known slices through my veins, bleeding me dry as euphoria pours from the cuts. It takes away my ability to do anything other than exist as every muscle squeezes, wringing out the unbearable tension. Each spray that shoots into his mouth sends a pulse through my body—a shockwave of rolling heat that torches me from the inside out.

Burning alive.

In my seven hundred years of life, I’ve never come so hard.

Dull, cotton-filled hearing is replaced by the wet sound of Cas choking as I realize I’ve bottomed out inside him, forcing myself down his throat. His lips push against my groin, his skin reddening as my cock fills his airway. White streams seep from his mouth and drip down his chin as I loosen my grip on him and allow him a deep, gravelly inhale.

The orgasm releases its hold on me, and I’m dazed, full of lead as I stumble a step back and slump against the wall, chest heaving. Cas whimpers, his trembling body a masterpiece with his rock-hard cock on display, the tip flushed with a clear thread precariously hanging. Every vein stands in stark contrast, and his hips twitch forward, out of his control.

Wrecked on his knees is a fucking fantastic look for him.

“I need to come,” he moans, almost a sob. “Please… fuckingplease!”

“That’s not up to you,” I say, and something akin to panic flashes in his eyes. Such a perfect, desperate thing he is. I nod to Rory, who watches in a lusty haze. “That’s up to him.”

Chapter 15

Rory

Cas turns his pleading towards me, and it takes a few seconds for the words to register in my mind. “Rory,” he whines, and my eyes fall lower. Lips coated in cum and brow glistening, his cock strains off his body as his thighs tremble.

It’s a beautiful disaster.

“Please let me come. Please? I’ve been such a good boy, and I’ll keep being one. So good, I’ll be so good… God, Rory, please?”

It’s tempting—to give in… give him what he wants. But then again…

This could be fun.

Amon and I exchange a knowing grin as we lock eyes. “You said I could command you to do anything I wish, and you’d be on board?”

The approving smile on Amon’s face spreads so wide I can count his teeth, while Cas looks like he might cry. He nods, a single bob of his head as he whimpers, “Yes.”

A few steps closer, and he’s kneeling before me. “You’re sure about that?” It’s a final offering, but he doesn’t take it. Instead, a helpless, pitiful noise leaves his throat, and he nods once more.

“Stand,” I order, and he rises to his feet, cock bobbing in front of him. My single finger slides along the underside of his shaft, and he whimpers again, hips punching forward.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” Every muscle in his body tenses and strains as he groans, his eyes squeezing shut. I lean in and whisper, “Maybe you need time to cool off, then.”

His eyes fly open, solid black in his heightened state. “Wha-what?”

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