Page 82 of The Dead Don't Talk
“Fuck, okay. I won’t.”
He’s a liar but I reward him anyway with a deep thrust.
I make sure to drag over his prostate when I do it again, the sounds escaping him worthy of my every sex dream.
His hole tightens around me, his body tensing.
“Relax, baby,” I mumble, my own muscles coiling up. “You take my cock so good.”
He whimpers, fingers digging into the forearm he’s got his head on.
“Need to come, big guy.Oh, shit.” His gasping choke makes me grin, and I tag his prostate harder. “Ohhhh fuck.”
The cadence of his vocals pitches higher and higher with each thrust until he’s panting and chanting and begging.
“Please, fuck. Please. Please fuuuck.”
Curling my arm across his collarbone, I bring his back flush to my chest, my hips hammering his prostate directly.
“I’m gonna make you come like this. Nothing but my cock in your sweet ass and you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
Fuck he’s so hot when he’s like this. Agreeable and so damn willing.
He doesn’t see the doorway darken, but I do.
It has my stomach twinging with a hint of fear and a ton of excitement to be caught.
Traumatic, maybe. But exhilarating as Amo’s tight hole grips me.
“Wilson,” he whimpers out, claws sunk into my arm. “Wilson.”
“Nothing but my cock, baby.”
His head tips back, neck taut.
And still I pound his ass.
Nip his shoulder.
Rasp in his ear.
“We’re being watched, baby. You feel it?”
His gasp feeds something in me and I go harder, my hips slapping his ass now. The sound is explicit and delicious as he takes me over and over.
“Y-yeah,” he stammers between moans. “He’s watching your cock fuck me.”
I hum and meet Moros gaze across the darkened room with nothing but the feel of him guiding me. He takes up the entire doorway, casting even more shadows into the room.
“You gonna show him what we’ve been working up? How good you come?”
Amo whimpers an agreement, curving his spine.
“I-I’m …”
“I’m gonna fill this tight, perfect hole.” He moans. “And then our boyfriend is gonna use my cum as his lube.”
