Page 92 of City of Secrets and Shadows
“Shut up,” he hissed, but his hips betrayed him, thrusting into my grip.
I leaned closer, my lips brushing against his ear. “You hate yourself for wanting this, don’t you? For wanting me.”
His breath hitched, eyes squeezed shut as if he couldn’t bear to look at me. I wouldn’t allow that escape.
“Open your eyes,” I commanded, slowing my strokes to a torturous pace. “Look at me while I make you come.”
“I can’t—” he started, but I cut him off with a vicious squeeze.
“You can. I command it.”
His eyes snapped open, blazing with a mixture of rage and need that made my spent cock twitch with renewed interest. I captured his mouth in another brutal kiss, swallowing his groan as I increased the pace of my hand. His nails dug into my shoulders, hard enough to draw blood even through the fabric of my tunic.
I felt him tense, his cock pulsing in my hand as he approached the edge. Part of me wanted to stop, to leave him aching and desperate — to make him beg. But the sight of him coming undone was too intoxicating to delay.
“Come for me,” I growled against his mouth. “Let me see you break.”
“Fuck you,” he gasped, but there was no heat in it, just desperate need.
I laughed low in my throat. “Maybe next time. Right now, I want to watch you come for me.”
His breathing grew ragged, hips jerking erratically into my hand. I could feel his release building, his cock growing impossibly harder. I slowed my pace deliberately, drawing a frustrated groan from him.
“What do you want, Septimus?” I asked, my voice dangerously soft. “Tell me.”
His jaw clenched, pride warring with desire. “Don’t make me say it.”
I stopped moving entirely, my hand squeezing just tight enough to deny him release. “Say it.”
A tremor ran through him. “Make me come,” he finally rasped, the words barely audible.
“Louder.”
His eyes flashed with fury. “Make me come, damn you!”
I smiled, savage satisfaction burning through me as I resumed my strokes, harder and faster than before. “Good boy.”
His body went rigid against mine, muscles tensing as he fought it for one last moment of defiance. Then he broke with a strangled cry, hot pulses spilling over my hand as his hips jerked uncontrollably. I held him through it, watching his face contort in pleasure, memorizing every detail of his surrender.
When the last tremors subsided, he sagged against the wall, chest heaving. Reality seemed to return to his eyes, the haze of lust clearing to reveal horror at what we’d done.
I released him and stepped back, wiping my hand on my already blood-stained tunic. The silence between us stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations.
“This never happened,” he finally said, voice rough as he tucked himself away, fingers fumbling with the laces.
“Of course not,” I replied, the corner of my mouth lifting in a mocking smile. “The noble Septimus would never debase himself with demon filth. But I think we both know it won’t be the last time.”
His jaw clenched. “This was a mistake.”
“A mistake you enjoyed thoroughly,” I countered, leaning closer again, savouring how he tensed but didn’t retreat. “A mistake you’ll think about tonight when you’re alone.”
“Fuck you,” he spat, but there was no real venom in it. Just exhaustion and confusion.
He pushed away from the wall, stumbling slightly. The vulnerability in that small movement struck me harder than I expected. For a moment, I saw beneath the armour of his arrogance to something raw and uncertain, and something stronger than lust made me reach out and drag his mouth to mine once again.
This time though, he jerked back after a few moments. His fist connected with my jaw before I saw it coming. Pain exploded across my face, and I tasted blood. I spat it onto the ground between us, grinning despite the ache. “There he is. The Septimus I know.”
“We need to leave,” he said, voice steady now as he retrieved his sword from the ground. “Someone will have heard.”
