Page 36 of Shot For Mercy

“Your body says otherwise.” Emiliano punctuates his words with one deep thrust, not bothering to go slowly for me. He doesn’t stop until he’s bottomed out, and tears sting my eyes from the burn. He’s fucking thick, and he’s not giving me time to adjust as he pulls back out all the way to the tip and snaps his hips forward brutally. “Look at your cock getting hard for me again, you fucking slut.”

I moan as he pegs my prostate, and his eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning. “Tell me you love me,” Emiliano demands. “Say it.”

“No,” I growl.

Emiliano wraps a hand around my throat tightly, uncaring that I didn’t take a breath before he did it. My lungs deplete, and my chest burns. My eyes water as my mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and I feel myself getting dizzy. Just as my vision begins to go black, he lets go of me.

His hand meets my face in a hard slap, my head snapping to the side, and I taste blood at the corner of my lip. What the fuck? My eyes narrow to slits, but he just smirks at me as I choke on a deep breath.

Motherfucker.

“Say it, Cole.” Emiliano leans in and bites my neck roughly, then bites my pec even harder. “I have no problem with getting it out of you one way or another.”

I press my lips together so I don’t say the three little words that sit on the tip of my tongue. Because I do want to tell him, more than anything. But I can’t. He fucked up.

Emiliano pulls out, flipping me over, man-handling me before I can refuse, and he presses my face to the carpet and enters me once more. I support myself with my arms, arching my back for him so he can get a nice view of my ass, and he groans.

His hand comes to my hair, his fingers tightening in the strands, and he pulls my head back hard. My neck arches, aching in the best way, as he fucks in and out of me. With his other hand, he grips my hip tightly, and I know I’m going to bruise. But right now, I don’t care. I know he’s claiming me, and even if I won’t admit it to him, my body is in fucking heaven.

“You’re mine,” Emiliano says, snapping his hips forward, avoiding my prostate, making me angry. “I don’t care if you say you’re not.”

“Em,” I growl. “Please. Make me come.”

“Say you’re mine.” Emiliano lets go of my hair, shoving my head forward until my cheek meets the carpet, and he drags me back until that burns too. He rakes his fingernails down my back, and I know he’s leaving marks from the sting. “Tell me.”

“I—I can’t.”

Crack.

His hand meets my ass roughly, exactly where it’s already bruising, and I shout in pain. Fuck. Yet my cock hardens even more, leaking pre-cum. “I can do this all night.”

His hand comes down on my ass again, and I whimper.

“You say you want me to be yours.” I groan as the tip of his cock grazes my prostate, not quite hitting it right. “But you don’t know what that means for you.”

Emiliano fucks me shallowly, frustrating me, but he doesn’t say a word.

“I’m possessive,” I tell him.

“So am I.”

“I won’t be a secret,” I say, looking at him over my shoulder.

His eyes are already on my face. “I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

“I’ll be your equal, or I will be nothing of yours.”

“Yes, Cole,” he breathes. “Any other requests?”

“I’ll think of something,” I breathe as he thrusts against my prostate just right. “Oh, fuck, rightthere.”

“Here, Cole?” he asks, hitting it again and again. “You know what I want to hear.”

“I—” My hand wraps around my cock, and I begin to stroke it furiously. “I’m yours.”

“What. Else.”

“Fuck.” I breathe as his grip tightens on my hips. He pulls me back toward his chest, making me kneel in front of him to ride his cock. He sits back as my ass meets his lap, and he thrusts into me, topping from the bottom. It feels fucking heavenly, and my spine begins to tingle as I jerk myself once more. My cock is leaking, my balls drawing up, and I begin to shake. “I love you,” I whisper, and Emiliano moans loudly.

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