Page 17 of The Dead Don't Talk
He’s panting around me, suckling my cock as he comes down from the high of a prostate orgasm.
My jaw is tight when he finally looks up at me, eyes wide and clear.
“If you think that was it, you’re mistaken,” I growl, and he visibly shudders.
I tug his on his hair, and he fights releasing my cock.
“You said you wanted me to fuck you.” His jaw unhinged and his muscles go lax. “That’s what I thought.”
Pulling my fingers from him makes him wince, the glide of the lube officially gone and his skin pulls.
I spit a wad right on his rim and work it in to get my fingers out without hurting him.
His chest is heaving when I kneel between his legs.
“Is it gonna hurt?”
Swiping up his cum, I massage it into his hole.
“A little,” I answer honestly with a rasp to my voice and a heavy restraint to my movements.
“Fuck, okay,” he breathes out and lifts his legs up, exposing himself to me fully. “Just fucking wreck me, Moros.”
With the last of the jar’s contents and more spit, I finally nudge my head against his hole. My control is shot. My balls are so fucking heavy as I grip his ankles.
If I don’t come soon, I might pass out.
The need only gets stronger as I push against his rim, stretching him to the max, and thenpop!
My cock head slips past the first tight ring, and he cries out.
In pain.
Not in the same pleasure I feel with him strangling me.
“It stings!”
“Just breathe.”
“Moros,” he cries, eyes shining with tears. “It's more than a little. You said it was gonna hurt just alittle.”
“Shhh, kitten,” I murmur and rub my thumbs in circles over the backs of his heels. “If I pull out now, I’ll hurt more—”
“Moros!”
He wriggles like he’s trying to get up, to back away, the movement dislodging tears from his dark lashes as I latch harder onto his feet.
“Amo,” I snap. “You’re gonna fucking hurt yourself more.Stop moving.”
That gets his attention enough that he falls still, his chest and hole both fluttering.
“I didn’t know it was gonna burn so bad. Make it stop. Make itstop.”
Through gritted teeth and non-existent patience, I whisper strained encouragement. Shit liketake a breathandwhat the fuck did you think was gonna happen?
I’ve never been good at those.
So, when his face stays red and his damn eyes keep getting glassier, I lean down over him as best I can without ramming into his hot fucking hole.
