Page 63 of Inferno

Leaning down, he kisses me, plunging his tongue into my mouth and demanding my compliance while he stays completely still, his dick filling me, but not moving.

“I need,” I gasp, when he drags his mouth from mine.

“I know what you need,” he says with so much confidence that I instantly believe him. “You’re mine now, Henry, every fucking inch of you. I’m going to ruin you in the best fucking way,” he says, as he rolls his hips, withdrawing his big cock, then pushing back into me again.

TWELVE

ANDERS

His ass isthe tightest I’ve ever experienced. It’s taking every ounce of my restraint not to pull out and slam back into him, because my balls are so tight and full, I feel like I’m going to explode.

It’s been over a year since I had sex, and longer than that since I fucked a man, but this doesn’t feel like anything I’ve ever experienced before. Henry’s slim legs are wrapped around me, his hands holding my wrists, like he needs to touch me but doesn’t know where or how.

His innocence, instead of being a turn-off, is intoxicating. Knowing that I’m the only person who has touched him like this, the only person to know how it feels to have his body gripping my dick so hard, feels important. I took his virginity. My first time with a man or a woman wasn’t life-changing, but for him it will be.

I won’t be able to let him go after this. I won’t be capable or reasonable enough to give him up, even if he begs me. Because whatever force it was that brought him into my life did it for a reason.

Maybe he needs me, maybe I need him. Either way, we’re the perfect fit, two sides to a coin. He’s mine and I’m his, and nothing will ever change that. Not ever.

My dick is screaming at me to move, but I refuse to hurt him. It’s why I spent almost a goddamn hour playing with his tight virgin hole, stretching him, teasing him, and making him come, so that when I finally got inside of him, he’d be so full of serotonin that he’d love every moment of being fucked by me.

Slowly, experimentally, I roll my hips, pulling out an inch, then gently pushing back into him again. His hole is pulsing, gripping me so tightly, it’s a miracle I haven’t come yet. It’s sheer grit and determination that I’m holding on to a thread of sanity, but I won’t be coming before he does.

Scanning his face for any sign of pain, I start a slow, steady grind, thrusting my cock into him in shallow, gentle movements.

“More,” he pants, his eyes comically wide as he bears down on me, forcing me deeper into him.

“More?” I question, taunting him as I pull my hips back but don’t push forward, not giving him what he’s demanding.

Sucking in air through his nose, his expression turns frantic, then pleading. “Please, Anders, please. I’ll be good.”

It’s the last word that gets to me, because he’s always good, my good boy, my good kitten. Mine. Collaring his throat, I thrust into him, not hard, but with more force than I used up until now.

A low keening noise pours from his mouth, and his head rolls back. There’s nothing provocative about his actions, but his behavior is innocent, guileless, and utterly, utterly submissive.

Something inside of me snaps at his gift and I take over, gripping his throat as I use his body like my own personal sex toy. I fuck him hard and slow, then fast, alternating as I keep him on the edge of release. Gripping his cock in my fist, I stop him from coming, refusing to allow him any release, controlling his body like it’s mine to command.

And it is. Henry is mine. I know it, and he knows it too. The more I take, the more he gives. He’s perfection, utter, utter perfection.

“Please, please, please.” His moans turn into chanting begs, and I take pity on him, softening my grip on his dick and jerking him in rhythm with my thrusts into his tight ass.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, long and low, as the first spurt of cum bursts from the head of his rock-solid cock.

The sight of his release brings my own closer to the surface, and I lose control, slamming my dick into him in long, deep thrusts. Pulling almost all the way out, I force my way back inside of him, finding his prostate and milking fresh surges of cum from his dripping cock with each drive of my body into his.

“Mine,” I growl. “Going to fill your tight ass with my cum. Mine.” I sound like a fucking caveman because I feel like one. I’ve never experienced this fundamental need to brand someone, but that’s what I feel driven and compelled to do with him. I need to fill him with my cum and mark him as mine.

His hole grips me, tightening around my dick until my vision turns black, and I lose control, slamming into him until my groin is pressed against his ass and I explode, pumping spurt after spurt of cum inside of him and making him mine.

Only the sounds of our rasping breaths fill the room by the time I finish coming. We’re both perfectly disheveled, a sheen of sweat coating our skin as the scent of sex hangs heavily in the air.

“You didn’t use a condom,” Henry whispers, his voice raspy.

“I’m clean. It’s been over a year since I last had sex, and we have regular six-month testing done as part of our physicals for work.”

“I’m clean too,” he says, his cheeks heating, like he’s embarrassed.

“I know, Kitten,” I assure him, smiling at his adorable blush.

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