Page 11 of Surrender

I slap the hand away. “Hands above your head,” I growl. “Keep them where I can see them.”

Fox gasps and arches his back, but he obeys, gripping the bar of the headboard. One of the chains attached to his wrist manacle drapes over his chest, and fuck, he looks gorgeous like that.

If it wasn’t for the fact that this situation was so dire, I’d be tempted just to keep him there, chained to my bed where I can watch him writhe and hear him beg for more. It’s been so long—too long—since I’ve been this viscerally attracted to someone.

Of course it had to be to a fucking assassin.

I shove that knowledge to the back of my mind, ignoring it, and I crawl up onto the bed as I pull my fingers out of him with an obscene pop. I let out a slow, shuddering breath, and as much as I want to rush this… It’s been a while, and I’d like to enjoy it, too.

Fox whines and clenches his ass enticingly. “Please, stuff me. Please please please.” He tries to hook one leg around my waist, but I grip both his thighs and push them higher up.

Fuck, it’s so sexy to have him so needy for me. I may have said I don’t cater to needy boys, but there’s something about Fox that makes me want to give in.

So I do what any reasonable but slightly insane man would: I unwrap the condom with a viciousness that’s not entirely necessary and slide it onto my cock, slicking it up.

Without warning, without any more waiting, I line up my cock with his hole and thrust inside.

Fox cries out and meets my thrust, throwing his head back in pleasure. His mouth is slightly open, sweat is building on his forehead, and I can see him swallow hard.

I memorize all these little details. I need to know what makes him tick, how to drive him absolutely wild.

“Come on, Daddy,” Fox says after a moment. “Fuck me hard.”

I can’t help but love the way he calls me Daddy in the throes of passion. The request to fuck him hard is easy to oblige, because my cock is throbbing and I’m just as fucking needy as he is. I want more, so much more.

It’s difficult at first; he’s still tight, clenching around me, and I have to force my way into him. Even with the lube, it’s a struggle. “When was the last time you got fucked, little fox?” I grunt as I finally bottom out inside of him and pause to give him a brief moment to get used to the feeling.

He laughs between moans. “Maybe you’re just really big.” He squeezes again, as if trying to draw my cock in deeper. “Fuck, that’s good. Go hard, Daddy.”

I roll my eyes. I’m not small, but I’m not massive, either. I definitely don’t need someone to stroke my ego. I don’t really care how long it’s been. I’m curious, maybe, because it’d be interesting to know how often an assassin lets down his guard enough to get intimate with someone.

My partners are usually tied up, so this is nothing new.

“Won’t that hurt your poor little back?” I taunt him, slowly withdrawing.

Fox whines again and tries to follow my cock. “Like it’s not already hurting? Keep going, keep going.”

He’s going to keep me on my toes, I find myself thinking—which is ridiculous, because after we find out who set us up, we’ll never see each other again.

I start to thrust, teasing him by going slowly, carefully, and it’s only when his pleas get truly desperate that I give him what he wants. I start to fuck into him more intently, my hips driving my cock into him over and over. His back will be a bloody mess by the time I’m done, but he doesn’t seem to care—and the scent of blood in the air only entices me further.

Fuck, how long has it been since I’ve been with a real painslut?

Since I’ve been able to let go the way I want to, without having to worry about following rules and boundaries?

Fox mewls and keeps expertly tightening his ass, getting me to the brink of orgasm faster than any other partner has in years.

Or even ever, which isn’t something I’d ever admit to him—or anyone.

Maybe I just need to get out more.

I don’t care about any of that, though, as I force my way into him again and again until I tense, my thrusts becoming more and more demanding—more and more erratic—and I grab his cock to pump it a few times as I spill into the condom.

Fox moans and lets go of the headboard to reach for his cock once more. I growl and grab his wrist harshly.

“No,” I say, squeezing. “I’m the one who chooses when you come.”

“Please, Daddy,” he cries out. “Please. I’m so close.”

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