Page 119 of My Lovely Tragedy
“Nothing could stop me.” I bury my fingers in his hair, gripping tightly just at his nape and yanking his head back. He gasps, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, and my mouthburnswith the desire to taste his.
I shove my left arm beneath his body to press against the small of his back, over one of the dimples impressed. With the other, I keep him pinned as I scoot down to drag my mouth over the smooth expanse of his chest. My tongue dips out to flick across a bead of sweat before swiping over one of his nipples. I suck the bud, and the sound that scrapes its way out of Brooklyn’s mouth singes every last line of connection between thought and feeling.
I release the bud, leaving it red and swollen before I trace the outline of his pectoral muscle on my way to his other nipple, left untouched and starving for its own abuse.
“Ah,fuck.” He groans at the harsh suction, yanking at my hair. The pressure would normally draw attention to my incessant migraine, but itdoesn’t.
There is nothing but him and this until every breath is lost.
My hand on his back dips down without much thought, sending a finger between his buttocks. “Oh, God. Fuck. Sh-shit?—”
“Your mouth isfilthy,” I hiss, scraping teeth over his other pectoral, teasing his now equally swollen nipple with my breath.
“S-sorry.” He gasps when I pinch the abused bud.
“Do not apologize. You know how I love your mouth. I love how your muscles twitch uncontrollably,vibratingwith unrestrained desire. How you cannot help the way you cry out, yearning for me. Begging for things you simplydo not understand.” I reach down to wrap my fingers around his erection, sliding roughly over the silken, heated flesh. Down to caress his testicles before squeezing just to hear him moan so breathtakingly.
“I love that pain is the only language you understand because it is the only one I know how to speak. I love how perfectly you fit me. Every shredded piece a perfect pair to my vacancies. You are the loveliest tragedy, Brooklyn. And you were tailored for me. Like a bespoke suit every passing eye admires and covets, knowing they couldneverhave such a delicacy.
“You belong to me, the very core of my blackened soul.”
The tears hemorrhaging between us are a mixture of unknowns and confusion and excruciating truths. Brooklyn’s sobbing mewls become the very cadence that sends us both teetering on the edge.
Movement becomes secondary to the rush ofmoreand whispered admissions, the sounds muffled and distorted through my ears, even as I say them, and I feel Brooklyn’s breath whispering back.
The finger between his cheeks presses against his furled muscle as my hand around his erection pulls up, twisting around his glans, adding pressure against the flared edge. Brooklyn’s mouth latches onto the flesh of my trapezius, and he sinks his teeth deep into it, making my back arch as a hiss rips from my throat.
The throb is instant and heavy, pulsing straight into my gut where a mass of heat is already furled and leeching out, flares breaking through the obscure edges.
My phallus throbs where it’s pressed against the crease of Brooklyn’s thigh. I release his own to cup his rear and knead the muscle, down the back of his thigh, circling the back of his knee curved over my hip.
He thrusts against me, erection jabbing me in the groin. When he arches back, my index finger presses harder against the entrance to his body, which causes a full-body shudder to wrack through him.
I watch its effects with fascination, reveling in how alive he is. Skin pink and vibrant, glistening with a sheen of sweat. Heart hammering away in his neck. Chest heaving with every desperate breath. Muscles quivering. Nerves alight with overstimulation.
Beautiful.
“You are utterly picturesque, my love. Just… perfect.” His eyes crack open, swollen with tears. A small smile curves his split lips, and if I thought he was radiant before…
I ache to see his ecstasy. To feel its echoesafter.
I find his length again, this time no longer exploring and working to draw out every noise he could ever make, but to help him find that burst. To watch him burn into his own supernova and explode all shades of vibrancy.
Colors that are still unknown and unseen to the human eye.
To becomemorethan what this world has to offer.
To expand and soar and dissolve.
Wetness smears across my palm, making the drag and pull much smoother. Brooklyn shudders at the smoothness, so I sit up, dislodging his hands from me. Tangled in his chains, I part my lips to drop spit onto my palm—and it’s then that I begin working my darling over again, faster and with much more ease.
Brooklyn lurches, scrambling for purchase with an echoing cry. My eardrums throb. I revel in it, eyes wide and bright as I watch his roll behind closed lids, feel his hole clench against the pad of my finger. And IknowI cannot enter his body dry, but oh, how I ache to. Just to hear that scream. For him to feel that tear for days to come.
“Fuck.Please. I—I need?—”
“What do you need, crow?” His erection pulses, twitching with his impending release.
Oh, so soon, too.
