“Shhh…” Hushes Undertaker when Othello smothers a gasping cry into his skin. “If anyone hears youuu…”
Someone will die. It might not be you, but you'll have blood on your hands. Othello thinks.
Impatient, the prisoner clasps a hand on his shoulder, using the leverage to pull Othello back on him with a fierce grunt.
It crushes the air from his lungs, the weight of the cock lodging in him like a knife.
“Uhn.” Undertaker breathes, taking a moment to soak in the vital heat. “Unbroken? I wasn't expecting that. Mm.”
Othello hates that he can somehow tell. Always in charge of sexual encounters, he's never been beneath anyone.
Because he never thought he would like it, submission- forced or not. Control has always been imperative for his pleasure. Or so he believed.
Othello's limbs shake beneath him. Being so mercilessly impaled makes staying upright a struggle.
And when the fugitive curls one of those bone-breaking hands around his neck and squeezes, Othello smothers a moan, clenching around the fat of undertaker's cock.
He spreads his legs wider for his assailant, giving in to the onset of lust with a fevered shiver.
“Like that, do you?” Undertaker drags his tongue up the side of his face in an animalistic lick. Othello's breath hitches as his every nerve ignites. “I thought you might.”
Undertaker’s words barely register over the roar of blood in Othello’s ears. The shreds of his mind are aghast from how the ache of a wound could feel so damned good.
Artwork by the lovely Luci-on-Moon! You can see this artwork in its entirety by joining her Discord! Here's her Tumblr page:
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I'm so, SO happy with this commissioned piece! 🥹 💖 It really brought this chapter of The Teeth Of Madness to life.
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