Page 52 of Vallaverse: Twist
His eyes flicker up to mine when I make a sound, a whimper, not really a painful sound, but I'm so overwhelmed with everything that it feels like he's forcing the noise out of my mouth. The purr he's kept up takes on a louder, rolling quality, and he bends over to cover his mark on my shoulder with his lips and tongue again. The wet warmth of his mouth over the mark floods me with slick again as I sigh and relax into the harsh strokes he's giving me.
I let my hand snake down to squeeze my erection. The friction from our bodies was sending me reeling, but this is better. Touching myself gives me something to focus on, even as it makes the aching need so much sharper.
Brooks is settling into a steady pounding rhythm now. God, it feels as good as it hurts. I wasn't ready for him. I was soaked and accepting, but I wasn't ready for his size or the brutality of his thrusts. Every stroke is so deep, bringing sounds from me that I don't even realize I'm making. It's so good that I lose myself in it, letting go and allowing myself to just feel.
Then his teeth press into my skin. Pressing, pressing, pressing, making it feel like a delicious bruise until I whine because a bite would be so much better. I tip my head to the side, giving himmore room to do whatever he needs to do, giving myself to him completely. Instinct drives him to claim, to take, and I welcome it. I want it. I want him.
He doesn't bite into me again, though. He just keeps that constant, deep pressure while he purrs and growls and groans with every stroke, viciously driving into me.
It probably hurts too much. I might be sore and raw tomorrow, but right now I'm lost in it. Tomorrow doesn't matter when he's taking me so deeply. My free hand reaches up to the back of his head, raking through his hair and holding him to me, keeping his mouth right where it is. I moan his name and try to keep the same punishing rhythm of his thrusts even though my fist barely has enough room to move between the tight fit of our bodies.
Between one stroke and the next, I feel his knot forming. I want it. I'm terrified of it, but I want it. I want that connection with him so much. Instinct has me spreading wider and releasing more slick in preparation of being knotted. It takes seconds for the scent of it to filter up to Brooks, and he growls as he adjusts the angle.
“Yessss,” I hiss. “Give it to me, Valla.”
He raises up onto his arms, lips curled and baring sharp teeth as he snaps his hips, grunting as he pushes past the tight constriction of my entrance. He thrusts again and again, making determined and desperate sounds while I gasp his name and jerk my dick faster, harder. I force my eyes to stay open so I can watch his face. Even if he isn't fully conscious of himself or what's happening, I am, and I want to see it. I want to remember it. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown. Then his hips stutter, and I know it's time.
“Please, Brooks,” I moan. “Cum for me. Let me feel it.”
He thrusts again, dropping his head as he fully seats himself. The swell of his knot is the most delicious thing I can remember feeling. The pressure of just the feel of him combined with thefeel of the knot jerking inside me as it releases and fills me is enough to make my eyes roll back so far that it aches.
I'm still stroking my own cock, desperate to cum, when he makes the most gut-wrenching, horrible sound of sorrow. His head slowly lifts and his eyes have lost every drop of darkness.
I stop moving and let go of my poor, swollen flesh so I can comfort him. I reach up and grasp the back of his neck, letting my thumb drag across his jaw. “It's okay, Brooks. I'm okay.”
He shakes his head and looks away from me. He would get up and leave, but we're locked together. That hurts. The fact that he'd leave me... That hurts a lot.
“I'm sorry,” he finally chokes out after a few minutes. “Oh, god. I'm so sorry, Laz. I didn't mean for it to—“ He takes a shuddering breath that makes me shiver. “I hurt you. You weren't ready, and I just... I just...”
“I'm okay, Brooks,” I repeat softly, trying to keep the tremble from my voice. “It's okay. It won't last long.”
His head turns quickly, his gaze locking on mine again. “What?”
It's my turn to look away. I don't want to see him struggle to stay in this moment. “This,” I say, tipping my chin down. “Being stuck. It won't last long, and then you can go.”
“I...” he starts. “What? What do you mean? You're hurt. I am hurting you.”
I smile gently and glance at him. “Just a little. But I wanted it. I asked for it.”
“You did?” His voice is small. I've never heard him sound this way.
“I did,” I nod. “I promise.”
Then another regretful sound pours out of him. “You didn't even get to finish. I fucked it all up.”
“It's not too late,” I say, biting my lip. “I can. If you want me to.”
“Of course, I want you to,” he barks.
I move my hand back to my semi-hard length, wrapping my fingers around it and preparing for the empty feeling of making myself cum while the person I'm locked to passively watches.
“What are you fucking doing?” he snarls, snatching my wrist and pulling my hand away.
“I thought you wanted me to finish?”
He growls, low and deep, laced with the remainder of his aggression. “Do you really think I'd allow you to jerk off when I'm inside you?” He moves my hand above my head, pressing it against the floor. “I get to make you cum. Me.”
He wraps his hand around me and starts to slowly move it up and down. “I'll do better than this, Laz. I swear to you, I will. I'll be better.”
