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𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺4𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺

OR: four times you and titus match each other’s freak to a dangerous level (titus danforth x f!wife!reader)

AO3 link (broken up into chapters) | masterlist

Warnings: DEAD DOVE CONTENT- READ WARNIGNS THUROUGHLY; ADULT CONTENT (MDNI), filthy nasty freaky. they’re both fucked in the head, porn and plot (ish), established relationship, reader drinks alcohol, unprotected sex, descriptions of murder and violence/torture, theyre both switches, titus has a pain kink! yay!, a hint of a foot fetish, knife play, blood play, dubcon/cnc roleplay (reader gets ‘kidnapped’ and ‘tortured’ with a man who actually gets kidnapped and tortured/killed; this is the 4th blurb if you want to skip it), there is no harm to each other outside of the scopes of things they’ve agreed to (offscreen), use of a safeword but reader's fine to keep going after a change in position, breeding kink, mating press, only a little bit of a scent kink this time!!! everyone clap, desecration of a dead body, getting walked in on, titus might be a bit ooc at points, glove kink (maybe?), spanking; no use of y/n, no descriptors, reader identifies as a woman and titus says ‘yes ma’am’.

A/N: I fear I might have cooked with this. I’ve been thinking about pain kink titus x reader who indulges him a lot and needed to expand on that. Not necessarily a sequel to that fic, but definitely has similar elements. I think this goes without saying but for legal reasons: do not do the unsafe things depicted in this fic.

Word Count: 15.2k (yeaaaa i got a little carried away)

divider credit

Being a Danforth required you to wear many masks. When you married Titus, you knew you would have to juggle the duality of being a cult member and socialite. A perfectly normal, doting trophy wife to broader society. But that’s not what you were, not really. People often whispered about your and Titus’ relationship. How you, the woman who organized charity galas with a genuine smile, ended up with the Danforth heir everyone was afraid of. A cruel man who bristled at anyone who looked at him too long, soothed with a brush of your fingers against his bicep. The most curious part was that Titus was apparently infatuated with you. He wouldn’t allow you to stray from his side during events. He took you with him on his business trips. Most of Titus’ colleagues laughed about how well he had control over you. What a good, obedient little wife you were. And Titus laughed with them. Because they had no idea that it was you who controlled him.

Your outward appearance was extremely curated. Both you and Titus had a role to play, afterall. Both your public and private-ish moments involved prying eyes and positions of power. It wasn’t until you two were truly alone that the masks of the Danforths slipped and you settled into your true personalities. Unfortunately, you were too busy preparing yourself for the night ahead to notice Titus didn’t feel like putting that mask on quite yet.

You sat in front of your vanity in the closet, warm light spilling from behind the mirror. You blinked at yourself as you fiddled with the backs of your favorite jewel earrings, an anniversary gift from your husband. Once they were secured, you gave yourself a once-over. The black dress you wore shimmered with every minute movement. A stunning outfit that would dazzle everyone at the gala. It was to be expected, of course, that you would be the best-dressed couple in attendance. It didn’t matter that the fabric itched at the sensitive skin of your stomach and your makeup was already starting to make your eyes water and you had that weird energy flowing through you- one of a long night that was just beginning. Because you were a Danforth, and you were expected to be above such trivial things as physical discomfort. The gala was for some museum and Titus had made an extremely generous donation. You had required it of him after he lost his temper and snapped the neck of one of the waitstaff. A penance of sorts. Titus had tendencies that you didn’t always care for. He was mostly good, but when he slipped up (accidentally or intentionally), you always made him atone in one way or another. That was the leash you kept him on. The museum had been so honored at the sum of the donation that they had named you the guests of honor at their annual fundraising event. Of course, any event the Danforths attended was worthwhile, and they had been giddy to learn that you accepted the invitation. It didn’t matter that Titus didn’t want to go, and you weren’t particularly enthused, but you would drag the man by the ear if necessary. If Titus didn’t want to be philanthropic, he should learn to keep his hands to himself.

“Are you ready?” The rumbling voice came from the doorway to your closet. Your eyes flicked sideways to catch the sight of Titus leaning against the frame, face relaxed in boredom. He wore a black three-piece suit, tie matching the color of your earrings. He had shaven that morning, much to your chagrin, and you could see the frown lines the stubble usually covered. You could see the curls perfectly arranged along his neck. You cast your gaze down to the vanity table. If you looked at him for any longer, you’d never show up to that event. You forced yourself to swallow the hum of appreciation for his appearance. Instead, you rolled on some of your perfume on your wrists and dabbed them to your neck. You gave him a smile.

“I just need to put on my shoes.” You stood from the vanity stool and crossed the closet. ‘Closet’ was an understatement, honestly, and you stood at the shelves of heels lining the wall with a thoughtful pout. Your thumb brushed against your painted lips as you considered. You turned to Titus. “Which ones should I wear?” He pushed himself off the surface and entered the closet. As he stood beside you, you could smell his cologne and you took a subtle deep breath. Your thumb covered the smile that twitched at your mouth. He only wore that one when he was in a…specific mood. He knew how it settled heavy in your brain and made your mouth water. You watched his profile as his eyes scanned the lines of heels. Titus let out a little grunt when he made his decision. He reached up and looped a single finger through the loops of the shoes, bringing them down to you.

“These ones.” He said simply, letting them dangle from his index finger. You nodded approvingly. They were one of your favorite pairs. The Tom Ford Padlock sandals. They were sleek, a smooth black leather strap to wrap around your ankle and a golden metal stiletto. They were the first pair of shoes you had purchased with Titus’ card. It had been a battle for him to convince you to, please, spend his money on things you wanted. It made him feel needed. You had, a bit spitefully, gone to the most upscale clothing store and looked to buy the most ridiculously priced item. You liked the contrast of the gold and the black, but your favorite part was the little padlock and key charm that dangled from the ankle strap. You thought it was cheeky, considering you had sold your soul to the devil during your wedding and interlinked yourself and Titus for all of eternity. You were truly locked to him. When you saw the price, you deemed the pair perfect for your plan. You had shown Titus that night, assuming he would scoff at them, call them ridiculous or overpriced or gaudy or something. But when you explained the reasoning behind the charm and modeled them for him, he became insatiable. He fucked you five times that night, all while assuring you that, yes, you were his forever and demanding the heels stayed on. Safe to say they were his favorite pair, too, and if he had to be stuck playing socialite for the evening, you could at least indulge him in this.

“Good choice.” You went to reach for the shoes, but he pulled back slightly before you could grab them. Your brow furrowed slightly and your eyes searched his face for an explanation.

“May I?” Titus’ voice was soft and a little vulnerable. His pupils were a little wider than they had been only a few moments ago. Understanding cleared your hazy mind. Right. You knew that look. You smothered a smirk and nodded. You walked back over to your vanity and sat on the stool, hands in your lap and feet dangling slightly. Titus followed dutifully behind you, mouth set in a firm line and fingers clutching the shoes tightly. He held your gaze as he lowered himself to his knees, adjusting his position so that he kneeled directly in front of you. He took one of the heels and brought it to your foot, licking his bottom lip in the way he always did before starting on an extremely important task. You slipped your foot into the heel. You raised your leg and pressed the shoe directly into the center of his chest, leaning back slightly so that you could look down at him. Titus looked up at you with reverence, awaiting your command. You felt his heart hammering beneath the sole. You tilted your head and gave a small nod. Titus’ fingers brushed against the smooth skin of your thighs and ran them down to your ankle before clipping the golden buckle securely closed. He gently set your foot down to the ground and repeated the action with the other shoe. Titus was slow and deliberate in his movements, enjoying every moment he was able to care for you like this. It was a state he only entered when you shared true privacy, a moment of soft devotion allowed only for one person in the entire universe: you.

When he finished with the second shoe, he gripped the meat of your calf and brought your leg up to his face. He gently brushed his lips against the padlock charm before kissing your soft skin that smelled of your body lotion. He looked up at you from under his eyelids, a silent plea.

“Thank you, Titus,” you said sweetly, running the edge of your shoe against his chin. His eyes fluttered at the contact and you saw his hands ball into fists on his thighs. “Very well done.” You tapped your finger to your chin in faux consideration. “Think you deserve a reward?” Titus’ eyes snapped open again, excitement flashing through the hazel circles.

“Please.” The word was barely audible. He swallowed as you dragged your heel slowly from his chin down the center of his chest. The lapels of his suit jacket rose and fell rapidly with each of his panting breaths. You could hear the air entering and leaving his nostrils as his eyes followed the black leather shoe. You ran it down his center slowly, tantalizingly so. Until you rested the flat part of the sole against his crotch. There was already a bulge beginning to form and you felt the soft hardness of his dick beneath his zipper. You pressed your heel into it. Titus’ breath hitched and you felt him get harder beneath the pressure. You stepped on his bulge harder, until you were actively crushing his length beneath your foot. Titus let out a small whimper, knuckles whitening with how hard he was balling his fists. “H…Har-” you didn’t let him finish before jerking your foot down, forcefully kicking him between the legs. Titus sucked in a breath and doubled over. A little pained groan was pulled from his chest and his hands clutched around your ankle. But he didn’t push you away. Instead, he pulled your foot down closer against him. He was leaning so far forward that his forehead was resting against your leg. You twisted your heel against him like one would squish a bug, the metallic stiletto running against his inner thigh. You saw a tear slip from Titus’ eye.

“Aw,” you tutted, condescension dripping from the word. “Too much?” You pressed slightly harder. Titus swallowed thickly and looked up at you with wet eyes.

“N-No.” He said. His voice was strained, but you felt his cock throb under you. “Thank you.” You hummed and checked the watch on your wrist.

“We’ve got to go, baby,” you said, voice soft. You pried his hands from your ankle and gave a kiss to his forehead, running your thumb along his cheek to collect the stray tear. Titus nodded and you brought him to a standing position by his wrists. You stayed sitting, eye level with his now very obvious erection. You ran your nose up the ridge and placed a kiss on his tip. You could smell the intoxicating mixture of his cologne and the warm, heady smell of his precum pooling in his boxers. Titus let out another whimper and went to rest his hand on your head, but you slapped it away, giving him a glare. He pouted. You ignored him and stood up. You were flush against his chest and you smoothed your hands against his chest, straightening his tie. “If you behave tonight, maybe I’ll consider letting you cum later.” You murmured, flashing him a saccharine smile. Titus shivered.

“Yes ma’am.” He promised.

“Good boy.” You entwined your arm with his and gestured for him to lead you out of the room. He blinked hard and clenched his jaw, shaking his head. It was going to be a long night.

The invitation arrived at breakfast one morning. You and Titus sat at the small table in his study. You could use the proper table in the dining room, but you were too far from him when you sat at opposing ends. The 4-seat table in his study was large enough to hold both of your breakfasts while also offering the sweet intimacy of starting your days together. Plus, it was on the second floor of the house and offered a better view. You sipped your coffee and spooned berries into your mouth as you overlooked the forest of the property. It was fall and the trees were converting from a lively green to rich warmer tones. A squirrel ran past your eyeline carrying a mouthful of fallen leaves for its nest.

“What are your plans for the day, my darling?” Titus hummed, flipping the page of his newspaper. The local paper didn’t actually print their dailies anymore; they only emailed it out. But Titus would not have that. It took a lot of convincing and a genuine threat, but sure enough, the only physical copy of the paper in existence was delivered to him every morning. You hummed at his question, thinking it over.

“The resort is having that wine exposition,” You said. For the owner of the Danforth Resort and Country Club, Titus rarely actually knew what was occurring on his family’s estate. “I might check that out. Some of the ladies are supposed to be there.” A faint smirk curled at his lips as he continued reading.

“Thought you didn’t like them.”

“I don’t,” You confirmed, placing another berry in your mouth. “But it’s something to do. Ursula’s still in France.” Usually, your days involved doing random side quests with your sister-in-law, but she had been called to a summit in Paris for the week. You would have to settle with getting dolled up in country club attire and sipping wines that couldn’t compare to the Danforth personal reserves. Not a bad day by any means, but you wish you had Ursula to go with you. You needed her company for sharing judgemental looks while the wives of business partners spewed their nonsense. One of the downsides of being in a satanic cult was that your social circle was severely limited. Most of the interesting cult members lived halfway across the globe and only reunited for special occasions. Your closest friend besides Ursula lived on a private Island off Papua New Guinea. Not an ideal distance to invite her to random events to pass your time. You sighed and sipped your coffee and stared out the window. Titus let the paper dip and his eyes found your face. He took off his reading glasses and leaned back in his chair.

“You could come with me today.” He offered, but you rolled your eyes.

“And listen to old white men argue for ten hours about how best to exploit their foreign factory workers?” You scoffed. “Sounds riveting, but no thank you.” Titus had been invited to an industry conference. You didn’t know what industry. You didn’t really care. Most of the Danforth business ventures were strictly hobbies or fronts for their money. The true wealth came from much darker, much more archaic places. Titus inhaled.

“Don’t appreciate the ‘old’ comment.” He muttered, running his hands through his hair. You gave him a playful glare.

“Sorry. You’ve still got some ginger. I can see it.”

“Thank you.” He put his readers back on and returned to his paper. You stifled a chuckle. There was a small knock at the door to his study. Titus looked confused and checked the grandfather clock on the other wall. “Come in.” He said hesitantly. He should have another hour before his driver came to collect him. The heavy wooden door creaked open and a young man meekly poked his head through the opening. Titus waved him in and held out his hand expectantly. The man, pimple-faced with wide, nervous eyes, placed a cream envelope and silver letter opener into Titus’ palm before scurrying away. Titus scoffed when the door closed.

“You’d think the staff would have more decorum. Running away like a frightened rat.” He rolled his eyes and gripped the blade, positioning it at the seam of the letter.

“You killed his predecessor, Titus,” you reminded him “He’s scared.”

“Good.” He ripped the envelope open and widened the gap, gently pulling the cardstock from its prison. His eyes scanned the page and he let out a curious noise. “David is retiring.” He announced.

“De Malle?” Titus nodded.

“His son’s gonna run that company into the ground.” He sighed, shifting in his seat while continuing to read. You noticed his eyes widen slightly towards the end of the letter. Titus licked his lips and turned his gaze up to you, lowering his voice. “He’s having a party.” Oh. That was interesting. The De Malle parties were well-known for their (borderline outlandish) extravagancy. The last time you had been invited was for David’s 50th birthday a few years prior. The entree for the evening was zebra steaks. Followed by decadent pastries and ritual sacrifice for desert. “An evening like no other.” Titus read from the invitation. Excitement bristled along your spinal column. It had been several months since you hunted, and the itch to sink a knife into a warm body was starting to grow uncomfortable. You knew your husband felt similarly. He always carried a tenseness in his shoulder when he went too long without forcing the life from a human being. Sometimes, when he got too restless, you’d have to place an order for the Room. A small, sound-proofed bunker in the center of the estate woods filled with various weapons and torture devices. When he was wound to the point of snapping, Titus only needed a few hours in there before he would jovially rejoin you in your house, covering your cheeks with kisses as you wiped the blood from his hands and called the clean-up crew. The last poor soul had been so…dispersed…that the cleaners had to call in backup. And even then, Titus’ relaxation had only lasted a few weeks. He carried the tension in him as he gripped the invitation and you felt his aura begin to simmer with anticipation. “Send our RSVP.” He told you, finishing his coffee and standing. He rounded the table and pressed a kiss to your crown. “I’m going to practice my speech again. I’ll see you tonight. I want you waiting…wear the blue one.” He mumbled the last part against your scalp and you nodded with a knowing grin. Ah yes, the blue one, the delectable lingerie piece that Titus only requested you in when you were preparing for a hunt. Anticipation flared in your chest. You couldn't wait.

Two weeks later, you were driving up the brick drive of the De Malle residence. You sat in the back of a limousine. The slit of your dress exposed enough thigh that your bare skin pressed against Titus’ pants. You loved the suit he was wearing. It wasn’t made of silk, but it sure felt like it- soft, dark fabric that clung to his muscles, showing off his powerful legs and broad shoulders. You would stay glued to his side this evening, more so than normal. You couldn’t let such a delectable man out of your sight. Your arousal had been simmering for hours. It initially sparked when you saw Titus emerge from the shower, his wet curls plastered against his neck and towel low on his hips, belly poking over the plush white fabric. Completely unaware of the effect it had on you. You didn’t believe in the heart-eyes phenomenon until that moment, while your eyes were wide and your vision pulsed with desperate need. If it was up to you, you would’ve grabbed him by the hair, fingers gripping the curls with a force only death could release, dragged him across the room, and ridden him until his bones broke. Unfortunately, that would have made you late. And though Titus Danforth had many attributes, late was never one of them. So you settled on watching him with shallow breaths as he disappeared in his closet. You had to genuinely stifle a moan when he emerged wearing a mahogany turtleneck and black pants, carrying the matching jacket over his shoulder with a finger. You could’ve sworn your mouth physically watered at the sight. His shoulders pulled the fabric taught over his chest and you could see the bulging muscles of his arms. His biceps especially. The same biceps that would hold you in a headlock while he plowed you into your mattress. He had to repeat your name several times to pull you from your hazy headspace, a knowing smirk on his stupid face. You muttered out a retort and grabbed your clutch before allowing him to guide you down to the car, broad palm on the small of your back, finger just barely caressing the swell of your ass.

While Titus looked down-right devourable in his suit, you were anxiously awaiting the second outfit of the night. The one that sat in the duffle bag in the trunk of the limo. His hunting outfit. Sitting right on top of yours, folded neatly and waiting for the clock to strike midnight. Your limo pulled into the line of the sleek black cars in front of the villa’s main entrance. It was a gorgeous cream color with brick red roofing and columns framing each door and window of the three stories. You knew that there was a secret fourth floor, a basement adorned with an altar and flickering candles. You wondered if you would see it tonight, or if the De Malles had something else in mind. The car came to a stop and the valet opened the door, stepping to the side so Titus could climb out. He took your hand in his and pulled you up beside him, curling a protective arm around your waist.

“Who do you think it’s going to be?” You asked him, walking up the steps to the villa.

“I don’t know,” Titus admitted as you walked into the house. There was already a loud buzz of conversation and music. You shrugged your shawl from your shoulders and handed it to a footman. “David’s been very tight-lipped about everything. Do you want to put in a guess?” You pursed your lips in consideration.

“Mistress’ boyfriend.” You said confidently, smiling as a complimentary flute of champagne was presented to you by a caterer. You took a sip and turned back to Titus. He looked slightly amused.

“That’s incredibly vague.” He huffed. “Could apply to half of the city, with De Malle’s tendencies.” You were about to respond when Mrs. De Malles appeared in the foyer. She wore a dazzling red dress with golden bangles jingling from her wrist. She smiled widely at you. Or attempted to, anyway. Her teeth were too white and the amount of filler in her cheeks made the grin look more like a snarl. She cooed at the pair of you, saying how she was so glad you were able to make it. You gave a tight smile and allowed her to take your hands in hers.

“Oh darling,” Concern laced her words “You’re frigid! Head over to the bar, get yourself something to drink and get warm! Enjoy the party!” She bid you farewell and disappeared back into the crowd.

“I’ll take her offer,” Titus sighed, scratching at his stubble. “We’ve still got five more hours of socializing.” You hummed in agreement and weaved your way to the bar.

The party was nice. You had been separated from Titus at some point, pulled into conversation with the wives while he made his way into the smoke-filled drawing room across the hall. The soft lighting and conversation made the tension in your body uncoil slightly and you found yourself genuinely having a good time. You had settled in with a group of women and had been so caught up in the conversation that you didn’t notice the room was beginning to empty. It wasn’t until one of the ladies’ husbands came to collect her did you actually realize what time it was. 11:30. You were surprised. Usually you’d be asleep by now, but not a lick of tiredness curled in your body. It wasn’t long before the rest of your social group wished you goodnight, leaving you alone at a cocktail table at the edge of the room. You scanned the room again, noting that the majority of patrons had left for the evening. There were only about ten people left. You felt a hand brush the small of your back and you grinned. Titus came up behind you, smelling of rich cigar smoke. You finished the rest of your drink and set the glass down.

“Are you ready to go home?” You asked him, looking at him with the soft adoring eyes indicative of the tipsyness flowing through your blood. Your hands rested on his chest and smoothed his lapels, an almost nervous habit of yours. You just needed to have your hands on him. Titus gave you an amused, but curious look.

“No.” He said. “It’s time.” He blinked at you, waiting for you to catch up to his meaning. It took you a few moments. Realization dawned on you and you inhaled, eyes widening.

“Oh. Right.” In the pleasant haze of cocktails and gossip, you had completely forgotten the second half of the evening’s activities. Titus rubbed a circle with his thumb against the muscles of your back, pulling you slightly closer to him so that your forearms were against his torso and your thighs brushed against his. Heat seeped into your skin. You doubted it was the result of your buzzed state. Titus was looking at you, sizing you up like he was trying to figure out the best place to take a bite out of you.

“We have to get changed.” He murmured with a smirk. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. One of his hands wrapped around yours and lowered it from his chest. You nodded and followed him into the hallway. He stopped in front of a pair of locker rooms at the back of the house. “I’ll see you out there, alright?” You nodded and watched as his broad frame disappeared into the changing room.

The midnight air had a sharp bite to it, and you cursed the choice of hunting attire. De Malle was a bit of a traditionalist, and while he didn’t expect the women to go full-on Victorian layered dresses, they were expected to hunt in skirts and men in pants. Thankfully, there had been three other women hunting that night and you had shared annoyances in the locker rooms as you changed. The cool autumn breeze wrapped around your bare legs and you suppressed a shiver. At least he had allowed you to wear a thick hunting coat to attempt to keep your body temperature even. You stood in a line with the other hunters for the evening, looking out at the field in front of you. There was a sprawling, bulking shadow that took up most of the horizon, but you couldn’t tell what it was, exactly. De Malle stood in front of you with a self-satisfied smile. His hands were clasped behind his back. Once everyone was settled, he gave a nod to one of his staff members. Suddenly, the shadow was illuminated by flickering sconces. It was a wide collection of stone walls, sprawled out beneath your vantage point.

“The maze,” De Malle began, “Was constructed by my grandfather as a celebration of his work when he retired. I am extremely excited to continue this family tradition among my close friends. The Prey has been released in the center of the maze.” He nodded to a table to his left. “Each of you will be granted a knife. No other weapons. The person who kills the Prey and brings me his heart gets the prize.” You felt excitement bubble in your chest. You didn’t really care about the prize, you didn’t even know what it was. You hadn’t had a kill in a while. You weren’t as blood-thirsty as Titus was, but tonight you wanted to be the one to win.

You followed behind Titus, dragging your finger along the cobbled walls of the maze. You had been wandering for thirty minutes. Titus had seen a half-formed footprint in the dust of the maze. He got that look on his face, clenched jaw, pinched mouth, and narrowed eyes. His knuckles were clenched as he stalked through the maze, ears pricked for any minute noise. You, on the other hand, felt restless. Energy prickled beneath your skin. Usually during partner hunts, Titus stole the show. You were just there, following him around and watching him with barely contained lust as he choked the life from an innocent being. But tonight was not one of those nights. Your fingers were itchy, running over the handle of the blade that swung at your hip. You took a deep breath and looked at your husband in front of you. You knew Titus needed the release of a kill, but he could do that any other night. Tonight, you wanted to take the kill. If you presented it correctly, Titus might actually allow you to take the glory. And you had an idea of how to make that happen in a way you’d both enjoy. Titus paused at an intersection and you ran your hand up his spine. You felt him tense under you.

“Titus.” You murmured, running your nose along his shoulder. Titus didn’t look back, just hummed in acknowledgement. He began to take a step, but your finger hooked through one of the belt loops on the back of his green cargo pants. He was pulled back into you. You nuzzled your face against his arm.

“What?” He said, voice a little gruff. He looked down at you over his shoulder. Not quite a glare, but it was clear he wasn’t fond of your interruption. You held it steadily, matching the intensity of his hazel eyes. But yours wasn’t a glare, it was a look of desperation. Of need. You removed the finger from the loop and let it drift to his front. You played with his belt buckle. Titus furrowed his brow and followed your movements with his eyes. “What are…baby,” he sighed “I’m a bit busy.”

“You’re too busy for your wife?” You frowned, pulling the tongue of his belt through the pronged buckle. Titus chuckled and shook his head. He removed your hands from his waist and turned to face you.

“That fucking needy, huh?” He growled, a condescending smirk on his lips. “Can’t wait ‘til we get home? You’re that fucking desperate for me?” His grip on your wrist tightened and he guided you until your back was pressed against the wall of the maze. You let out a small whimper, licking your lips and nodding enthusiastically. Titus leaned in, lips ghosting over yours. “Too bad.” He whispered, breath tickling the skin of your face. He ran his plush lips over your cheekbone. “You’re gonna have to wait.” He gave a dark chuckle and began to move away from you, but you grabbed a fistfull of his vest.

“Titus.” You bit out harshly. You threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him close to you. His hands immediately flew to your hips to steady himself. You pressed wet kisses to his jaw line and his neck, squirming against him. Titus let out a shaky breath when you nipped at the sensitive spot near his jugular, grip tightening and dominating aura faltering just slightly. “I need you.” You begged, licking a stripe up his neck. “I want to feel your cum dripping out of me while I kill that man. Have you leaking from my pussy while I carve his heart out.” Titus moaned, eyes squeezing shut and hips bucking involuntarily at your words. One of your hands dragged down his chest. You twisted your wrist and cupped his crotch. “Please.”

“F…Fuck.” Titus huffed, lips twitching and jaw slackening. “You’re so…fucking hell, sweetheart.” He pulled your hips against his and grinded against your palm.

“Take care of me, Titus. Fuck me and watch me win the hunt.” He whimpered.

“Yea, okay.” He swallowed and his eyes fluttered open. His pupils were blown. “But we gotta be quick, and quiet, okay? Don’t know who’s around.” You nodded and captured his mouth in a kiss. Titus bit at your lip, rolling his hips into yours. The kiss was immediately heated and you smiled into it. Titus always got insatiable when you actually showed a sliver of maliciousness. To the world, you were just some woman he decided to marry. To him, you were his perfect match, complimentary to him in every way. He knew you had something sinister in your soul, and when you outwardly expressed it, he went crazy.

Titus only pulled away when both of your lungs screamed for air. He kept his forehead pressed against yours and panted against your lips. His large hands groped your ass and you jumped. He locked your legs around his waist and he pressed you harder into the stone wall. His palms roved your thighs and your fingers tangled in his hair. “You really want to do this?” He asked, low and gravelly. His pupils were blown, almost black, from the combined low light and lust that consumed him. His bottom lip twitched slightly with every panted exhale. “Wanna show off for me? Prove you’re more than just a pretty face?” You nodded and smiled, nostrils flaring in excitement.

“I’ll kill the fucker all by myself.” You promised. “Let you watch, too. I know how much you love it.” You felt his cock pulse against your core and his breathing was heavy.

“Take what you need.” He told you and you wasted no time unbuckling the rest of his belt. You didn’t have time to fully get undressed, so you pushed Titus’ cargo pants halfway down his thighs. Just enough to take out his leaking cock. You shifted slightly and pulled your underwear to the side. Titus’ hands were busy holding you up, so you wrapped your palm around his hot, heavy length and lined it up with yourself. He pushed in slowly, eyes locked on your expression, taking in every subtle twitch of the muscles in your face as he filled you in one smooth thrust. “You’re so tight,” He murmured “And so wet. Been needin’ this all day? Huh, baby, have I been neglecting you?” He tutted at you condescendingly.

“Shut up.” you gasped out, feeling your walls spasm around him. He began to pull out and you whined at the loss of him, clutching at his shoulders.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you changed your mind, since you wanna talk shit.” He tilted his head, faux confusion rounding his eyes.

“‘M sorry.” “You’re sorry what?”

“I’m sorry, sir-” Your breath was punched out of your lungs by a sharp thrust.

“Atta girl. See how good it is when you play nice?” Titus chuckled, digging his hands into the meat of your ass. “You want it hard?” You nodded frantically. He widened his stance and braced you against the wall. He began jackrabbitting his hips into you, thick cock repeatedly spearing you open in rapid succession. Little mewls left your lips with every thrust. Titus dipped his head into your shoulder and bit down on your shirt to muffle his own grunts. His cheek rubbed against yours and the sensation of his stubble running against your smooth skin made you shiver. It only added to the way you felt completely surrounded by him. Your thighs slapped against his and your arousal dripped down his length.

“Titus!” You gasped when he angled you slightly differently and the head of his cock bruised the spot right in front of your cervix.

“That’s it, feel so good baby, doin’ so well. Takin’ it so well f’me.” His praises were muffled by your shirt, but they still sent flashes of arousal down your spine. “Need you to touch yourself. Don’t want to drop you.” You swallowed and shakily dipped a hand down to where you were joined. You rubbed tight circles around your clit, matching the pace at which Titus fucked you. It wasn’t long until you felt tightness coiling in your abdomen. You bit your lip to prevent your moans from escaping. Titus felt you were close. His back and knees hurt and sweat beaded at his temples, but he wouldn’t stop until he gave you what he needed. As sarcastic as he was, his primary goal in life was to take care of you in every aspect, including turning your brain into mush with his dick. You came together, Titus pushing into you as far as he could as you clenched down on him, trapping him inside you and milking him for all he was worth. Your combined heavy breathing filled the corridor and he stayed inside you until your sweat was cooled by the night air. His softened cock slipped from you and you gently wiped off the remaining beads of cum with your thumb before tucking him back into his pants. You brought your thumb to your mouth and sucked it clean. “Don’t do that,” Titus groaned “Gonna make me fuck you again.” “What a terrible thought.” You retorted sarcastically. He helped you unhook your legs from his waist and set you on the ground, offering his arm for stability as your shaking legs gained their purchase. You didn’t have long to recover, though.

A shuffling noise on the other side of the wall snapped your attention. You pulled Titus into a shadowed area and waited. Sure enough, a man limped past the opening of the corridor. You didn’t recognize him. The Prey. He had a gash on his leg, and one of his hands clutched at his side. He didn’t see you, just kept hurrying further into the maze. You shared a look with Titus and saw the hunger you felt reflected in his eyes. He gave your ass a tap and nodded.

“Go get him, sweetheart.” He smirked, canines poking out from beneath his lip. The perfectly white teeth glinted in the candlelight. You slunk along the wall of the maze, keeping low to the ground, predatory and animalistic. You allowed yourself to slip into the mindset of a hunter. The front of your brain sharpened into focus as you noticed a smear of blood on one of the corners. Your shoulder blades and hips loosely shifted as you crouched down. A shiver crawled up your spine as you began to feel cum pool in your underwear. Titus walked lazily behind you, watching your every movement with sharp, assessing eyes. You felt a little bit of pressure to perform, but you forced the worries away. You might be a bit rusty, but as long as you got results, you knew he would be pleased. You peaked around the corner and saw the Prey, leaning his shoulder against the wall trying to regain his breath. You forced down the growl of excitement that crawled up your throat. You positioned yourself to get a better angle before pushing yourself off the ground, sprinting towards the man and knocking your entire weight into him. It was more of a sliding tackle and you went for his waist as you pulled him to the ground. A man’s center of gravity was in his sternum. He wasn’t a small guy and if you had tried to jump on him, there was no way you would’ve been able to overpower him. But since you went lower, combined with his injury, he fell to the ground easily. He let out a yelp and you slid across the ground, getting your feet beneath you and pressing yourself up before he could recover. Your knees stung slightly, the gravel scraping your skin, but you ignored it. Titus rounded the corner and leaned his weight against the wall. His hands were in his pockets and he stayed back, monitoring in case you needed his assistance. But he knew you wouldn’t. So he just sat back and enjoyed the show.

To his credit, the Prey got up faster than you were expecting. He had fallen on his stomach and you hurried over to him, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt and trying to pull him onto his back so you could get to his chest. He swung an arm at you. You should have dodged, but you were a little rusty, and his elbow caught your nose. You cursed and your hand flew to your face. It gave him enough time to get to his feet and you followed suit. Anger and frustration bubbled in your throat and you widened your stance, glaring the man down. He looked at you for a moment and licked his lips. He threw the first punch. But you were ready for it. He had shifted his weight obviously before lunging at you and you swiftly dodged to the side. The momentum of the movement sent him stumbling forward and you were able to land a hit to his ribs- the side that he had been clutching at. An agonized groan fell from his lips. He doubled over, hand slapping against the wall to brace himself. You shifted behind him, awaiting his next move. You planned on using his weight against him. No need to overexert yourself and potentially get hurt. Titus had taught you how.

The man pounded his fist against the stone in anger and pain and whirled to face you. He snarled, gritting his teeth as he lunged again. You allowed yourself to relax your muscles and the man tackled you. He had expected more resistance, and together you tumbled over the ground. He had overjudged the force needed to tackle you and somersaulted with you. You hooked your legs around his weight and worked with the momentum to flip him onto his back. His hands went to your hips to try and get you off, but you kneed him in the crotch before he could. Another strangled sound of pain. It stopped him long enough for you to crawl up higher on his body, straddling his chest. Your thighs caged his shoulders and arms to his body. He struggled against you, but you pressed yourself down harder. There was no way he would be able to move. Your hand grabbed the blade’s handle and you unsheathed it. You held it up by your face before plunging it down in his throat. Quick. Precise. Deadly. Blood gushed immediately and you flinched slightly as it splattered against your jaw. You rubbed your lips together, trying to keep it from dripping into your mouth. You pressed the knife in deeper until the gurgling noises stopped. You took a deep breath and suddenly the adrenaline of the situation washed over you and you felt your hands begin to shake. You removed the blade with a grunt and slid off the man’s chest. You could do the heart extraction yourself. But you figured Titus deserved a treat. You got to your feet and smoothed off your skirt, practically skipping to where Titus stood. He was in the same position, resting against the wall, but his breathing was uneven, eyes locked on your every movement. You could see the prominent erection pushing against his pants. You sauntered over to him, hips swaying and knife dripping blood onto the ground as you walked. You splayed a hand on his chest and felt his heart battering against your palm. He swallowed and looked back at the body. His breath hitched and a strangled moan escaped his throat. You followed his gaze and smirked when you realized what he had seen. Right in the center of the man’s chest was a wet splotch, darkening the fabric of his shirt. It was resting exactly where your pussy had been. You had made good on your promise- Titus’ cum was, in fact, staining the corpse. You let out a little laugh and caught his jaw between your fingers. You forced him to look back at you. You raised the knife to your lips and kept eye contact as you slipped it into your mouth. You licked the blade clean, careful not to cut yourself, before handing it to him. Titus shook his head in disbelief. He captured your mouth in a starving kiss, lapping at your tongue to chase the flavor of the blood. He groaned primally when he found it. He swallowed your spit and moved his kiss along your jaw. His tongue sucked at the sprayed blood until your face was thoroughly cleaned.

“I don’t…I can’t even explain to you how hard I am right now. Shit.” He growled, eyes squeezed shut. You rubbed your palm along his clothed erection and he sighed in relief.

“Finish the job and we can go home. You can show me.” Titus nodded and kissed you again. Softer, similar to the way he kissed you goodbye every morning. He took the blade from your hand and gave your nose a little tap with it. He walked over to the body, kneeling beside it and running the tip of the blade through the wet spot you had left. He chuckled and shook his head. Then, he began to cut into the man’s chest.

“I’ll do the chef’s special tonight, please.” You said into the room phone, popping another strawberry into your mouth. “Thank you, sir. Bye.” You placed the phone back into its receiver and rolled yourself onto your stomach. You were laying on the bed of the hotel, fresh out of a bath and watching TV with a bowl of strawberries. The silk fabric of your bathrobe brushed softly against your skin as you settled back into your position, one of your legs hiked up closer to your body. Your arms snaked beneath the pillow that you rested your chin on. You rolled your eyes at the reality show contestant who was bearing his soul to the camera. “You shouldn't have said that dumb shit if you didn’t want her to leave you.” You muttered, shaking your head as you devoured another strawberry. You were in a hotel in Houston. Titus had a business meeting and, since you didn’t feel like spending the weekend alone and you had never been to the city, you decided to join him. You spent the day roaming around downtown, stopping into shops that lined the main street and taking pictures of the flower features. You had promised yourself that you would be good. It was only a two-day trip and you had packed a small duffle bag of clothes. You didn’t have a lot of space to fill with new things. Even though Titus probably would have told you to just buy another suitcase to take home. You tried to be mindful about your consumption. You didn’t have an overwhelming amount of clothes, but what you did have was the highest quality. You only allowed Titus to buy you material goods for birthdays and anniversaries. You wanted the quiet luxury of true wealth, not of a Real Housewife. You preferred experiences over gifts; would rather go to the brand new 5-star restaurant for dinner than get a different color of a bag you already had. You were better than that. The world was burning, after all. You did allow yourself one luxury today, though. You had walked past a nail salon and had promptly entered. You needed a new set anyway and you thought it would be a fun surprise for your husband. Long acrylics sometimes got in the way of your duties, but you weren’t aware of any planned hunts, so you decided to revitalize the extensions at the tips of your fingers.

The door clicked open. Your brow furrowed but you didn’t take your gaze off the TV screen. There was only one person who it could be, but you weren’t expecting Titus to be done so early. You heard the shuffling of his shoes as he made his way into the suite, keys clicking against the counter of the kitchenette. You were sprawled on the bed and facing away from the door of the suite, so you only realized his presence when you felt the dip of the bed behind you. You turned your head over your shoulder. Sure enough, Titus sat there, taking off his shoes.

“Hi, honey,” You said with a grin, shifting slightly to offer him the bowl. “Strawberry?” He lifted his head to look at you. He looked a little tired. It was only just before dinner time, but the meeting must have drained him. You knew that he was looking to build a new casino resort outside the city and there was a lot still to do. But the dazed exhaustion in his eyes sharpened when he looked at you. His jaw tightened as he paused to take you in. You were completely naked underneath the robe and it was doing a poor job of concealing you. Your robe had come open at the chest, the slope of your breast tantalizingly close to spilling from the fabric. And since one of your legs was tucked close to your chest, the hem of the robe rode up your thigh, giving him an unrestricted view of your pussy. His lips twitched in a smirk.

“Sure.” He took the bowl from you and ate a berry before setting the porcelain on the bedside table. Titus shifted himself closer to you on the bed and settled a heavy hand on your bare thigh. His fingers ran up your leg and eventually grazed your folds. You sucked in a breath and opened your mouth but Titus clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Watch your show.” You turned back around, chin back on the pillow, but you lifted your hips a bit to give his fingers better access. “How was your day, baby?” Titus hummed, dragging a dampened finger down to your clit. He began to rub loose, lazy circles.

“It was good,” You sighed, a little hum of pleasure leaving your lips as the tip of his finger stretched your opening. “I walked around the shopping center.”

“Yea?” You could hear Titus’ voice light up. He loved when you spent his money. It made him feel needed. “You get anything for me?” You smiled and pushed yourself up, ignoring Titus’ frown when his fingers slipped out of you. You sat next to him and held up your hands to him so he could look at your nails.

“Got a fresh set.” You bit your lip with excitement as he took your hands in his. He appraised them with utmost seriousness. They were deep red and filed to a sharp point, perfectly reflecting the shining ceiling light. On your left ring finger, in fine silver paint, was a small T. You didn’t always get Titus’ initial or the pointed style, but an idea had come to you in the salon. “Do you like them?”

“I love them.” He confirmed, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He brushed his thumb over the nail with his initial. “What’s this for?”

“It’s a T. For Titus.”

“Yea, I gathered that,” He rolled his eyes. “But what’s it for? Did I do something worthy of a reward?”

“It’s so people know who I belong to.” You dropped your voice to a sultry whisper. His eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“I think the carat on your finger does a pretty good job.” He countered, but there was an edge to his voice. His eyes were half-lidded and he licked his lips. He liked it. Good.

“Just in case.” You said quietly. Titus hummed and pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was unhurried and sensual. When you licked against his lips, he parted them for you and his hand squeezed your thigh. You pulled back and gave him the most seductive look you could muster. He got the hint and stood up. You watched with hungry eyes as he unbuckled his belt and pushed down his pants. He pulled his shirt over his head with one hand and crawled over you. But you pushed at his chest. “Sit against the headboard.” Excitement lit up his gaze and he nodded. As he moved the pillows and got settled, you tugged the string of your robe, letting it fall off your shoulders and crumple on the floor. You kept your eyes on Titus the entire time, seeing his eyes widen and his breathing quicken when you bared yourself to him. You straddled him, taking his cheeks in your palms. You let your thumb graze his plump bottom lip, pulling it down slightly so that you could see a sliver of his canines. You leaned back in to kiss him again. Titus’ hands went straight to your hips as you began to grind on him, running your core over his slowly (but surely) hardening cock. A wet spot formed on his boxers. A mixture of his precum and your slick. Whereas the kiss before had been loving, this one was lustful. Wet tongues and nipping teeth and swallowed moans from both of you.

You captured his bottom lip in your teeth and clawed your sharp nails down his freckled chest, pressing just enough to leave instant angry red marks.

“Shit.” Titus hissed, but you felt him twitch against your thigh. You ran your nails down his abdomen a few more times, creating a lattice of scratches. You pulled back and admired your canvas, heaving and quivering beneath you, desperate for attention. The scratches you had given him were in a distinct pattern. Your initial. You hummed with appreciation as you gripped onto his pecs, kneading the flesh between your fingers. Your thumbs swiped over his nipples and he let out a shuddering breath. A light chuckle left your throat as you leaned in against his ear. You kissed his temple.

“Now people know who you belong to.” You murmured, grazing your teeth against his earlobe.

“You.” He nodded, bucking his hips into you. “I’m yours.”

“Prove it.” You challenged, sitting back on his lap and running your thumb over his cheek. He was on you in an instant, practically tackling you back onto the mattress. His mouth went for your throat, sucking and nipping down to your collar bones and eventually locking his mouth around one of your nipples. His hands ran up the side of your torso and flicked your other nipple with his thumb. He spent several minutes like that, just sucking hickeys into your chest and running his tongue along the expanse of your skin. Titus licked and pawed at you until you were squirming and mewling his name.

“You want something?” He mumbled, not lifting his head as he kissed the side of your breast. He sounded annoyed at your interruption. And yet, he otherwise seemed unbothered as he slowly explored your body. He showed incredible restraint, because you felt how painfully hard he was against your hip.

“Want you.” You keened, rolling your hips into his and rambling. “Want you t’fuck me.” And then, out of no where, “I want you to fill me up n’ fuck a baby into me.” Titus stilled above you. His head slowly raised to catch your eyes. Embarrassment cut through the hazy headspace of your pleasure. You weren’t really sure why you had said that. You and Titus never really talked about kids. You knew that, conceptually, you would one day have to continue the Danforth line. But you never actually discussed a timeline, or if that was even something he truly wanted. You knew Titus had issues with fatherhood. But you would be lying if you said you never considered it. And in the moment, it seemed like the right thing to say. Titus blinked at you. “Sor-” your apology was cut off by a fevered kiss.

“Oh, I’ll fill you up,” Titus growled as his tongue plunged into your mouth. “Fill you up so much you’ll be dripping for days. S’that what you want? For me to keep you bred and happy? Oh, I'd love to. All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” You whined at his rambled words and he shoved his boxers down. He didn’t give you time to say anything else before he pushed himself into you. Your nails dug into his shoulder and you saw blood begin to pearl there. Titus shuddered. He didn’t start gently. Instead, he immediately pulled all the way back out before slamming back into you. The sudden sensation was so overwhelming, you didn’t notice Titus gathering your legs in his hands. He pushed your knees to your chest, ankles around his ears as he put his full weight into you. He braced himself by planting his hands by your head, but not before interlacing his fingers between your left hand and bringing it up with him. The one with your wedding ring and the small brand on your nail. Your eyes widened and your jaw slackened. He was so thick and deep inside your cunt you could feel him in your stomach. You let out a broken noise and Titus laughed breathily through parted lips. “Feel that?” He cooed, giving a small roll of his hips. You groaned at the way his cock kissed your cervix. Your head lolled to the side, forehead resting against his veiny forearm. His thighs were flush against your ass and you could feel his coarse pubic hair brushing against your clit. You felt so utterly full. And when he began thrusting again, you fisted the sheets.

“Ti…Titus…I-” You gasped, shaking your head. Your body jerked along the surface of the bed with each snap of his hits.

“You can take it.” He rumbled, picking up his pace. “I know you can.” You were too blissed out to muffle your moans and your pornographic noises joined the chorus of skin slapping. Between the borderline painful stretch of your walls against his thick cock, the feeling of his pubic bone bumping your swollen clit, and the sound of Titus grunting with exertion, your orgasm was building fast. You made eye contact with him with lidded, fucked-out eyes and he held it. “You’re takin’ me so well, honey,” he assured you, tilting his head to kiss your ankle bone. “Gonna cum with me? Yea? Please?” You gave a small nod and squeezed his hand. Titus’ head dipped back slightly, screwing his eyes shut and biting down on his lip. The pleasure was overwhelming and with one more nudge of his cock against your bladder, you came with a cry. Your free hand flew up to his hair for some tether to this reality. When he felt you tug on his curls, Titus’ eyes flew open and he came immediately, hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside your wet heat. Titus pulled in deep breaths, letting out strained groans as he rode out his release. You pulled him into a kiss. Brief, but necessary, before he collapsed onto you. As you both regained your wits, you ran your nails in soft circles. Soothing instead of scratching. You allowed your eyes to close and enjoyed the sensation of the wetness of your combined arousal dripping out of your pussy. You felt fulfilled.

After a few moments, you felt Titus’ fingers rub your clit. You yelped and tried to shift away from him, but he pinned you down with his weight. “Titus.” You whined, tapping his shoulders.

“Shh,” He soothed, kissing your neck. He lifted his head to look at you. You felt arousal spark again when you saw the lust still in his eyes. “You gotta cum again. Gotta make sure it takes.”

“I think, mmh, that’s a myth.” You squirmed again. Though, this time, you were trying to get closer to the pleasurable sensation building in your abdomen.

“Can’t take any chances.” He whispered. He tilted his head slightly and widened his eyes, tilting his eyebrows slightly upwards in the puppy-dog expression he knew would make you fold. “Please?” You pressed your lips together and rolled your eyes.

“Fine.” You muttered and a self-satisfied grin replaced his little pout. You felt his spent cock twitch back to life inside of you. You quirked an eyebrow. “Hard again already? Getting off on the idea of knockin’ me up? You’re such a perv.”

“Keep going, I'm close.” Titus quipped back. But it was true. The idea of giving you a baby, tying you to him forever (even though you were already married and your souls were condemned together), made his heart, and cock, throb with excitement and determination. Soft moans dropped from your lips as he worked you up to the edge, rolling his hips gently. He knew that like this, he could hit that sweet spot perfectly. “You’re so beautiful.” He said to himself. And you were, gleaming with sweat and huffing with arousal, sweet noises engraving themselves into his brain. He continued his movements as if it was his life’s duty to make you cum. If it was up to him, it would be.

The door to the room clicked open. Titus’ eyes snapped up immediately, pausing his movements and earning a frustrated whine from you. A startled young woman walked in, carrying a dinner tray. She froze in the doorway with a floundering expression, mouth open and closing, unsure what to do. Your eyes opened at the abrupt stop in stimulation. You noticed Titus wasn’t looking at you and followed his gaze. You yelped in surprise when you saw the staff member and moved to cover yourself. Titus’ face turned into a snarl.

“Get the fuck out!” He snapped airily, looking at her like she was the dumbest person to ever exist. She nodded immediately, placing the tray on the ground and practically sprinting back into the hall. The door closed behind her with a loud thud. Titus scoffed and shook his head. He looked back at you with burning fury. “I can’t fucking believe it. I should…” He let out a puff of air.

“You should what?” You asked quickly, licking your lips and eagerly awaiting his response. Titus raised a brow and a mischievous smile played on his face. He rolled his hips again and resumed stroking your clit. Tighter, more precise, rapidly rebuilding your orgasm.

“I should twist her head off for daring to interrupt us. For catching a glimpse of my wife.” He growled, thrusts becoming more erratic. Your legs began to shake underneath him and the familiar fuzzy warmth began to tighten in front of your tailbone. Your walls fluttered around him at his words.

“Yea?” Titus breathed “You like the idea of me killing someone for looking at you?” You didn’t trust your brain to properly form a sentence, so you did the next best thing. You clenched your walls around him as hard as you could. Titus hissed. “Oh, fuck!” The words were guttural, barely human, completely filled with adoration and pleasure. You pulled Titus close to you as you both hurdled closer to the edge. You came together, Titus painting your already sopping cunt and you milking him for all he was worth.

“Can I watch?” You panted out after a few moments. Titus laughed and kissed your forehead.

“Always.”

The soles of your sneakers slapped against the wet pavement. You were walking in the park, enjoying the way the frogs sang to you in the summer night air. You tried to keep your steps evenly paced, tried to walk normally down the empty walkway lined with bushes and trees. But you could not dampen the anxious, almost painful, thrashing of your heart against your lower ribcage. It was a primal, instinctual sort of fear. The lamp lights were on, but sparsely illuminated the walking path. There were large gaps of shadows between each post. You had the urge to sprint between the puddles of light, but it was silly to think someone would just…grab you from the street. You stepped into a shadowed patch. Suddenly, you felt a hand clamp down around your mouth, pressing your lips closed and muffling the scream that purged from you. It jerked you back and you collided with a warm mass. You thrashed beneath the force, but the stranger was too strong. You heard a deep voice hushing you. A prick at your neck. And your eyelids became too heavy to hold up, plunging you into unconsciousness.

The warm morning light cast shadows over your bed. You and Titus spent most mornings like this, half-awake and tangled up in each other. Your leg was thrown haphazardly over his hip and his arms pressed you close to his chest. Your breathing was synced, hearts lazily beating against each other. You nuzzled against his broad torso, taking a deep and soothing breath. You smelled the laundry detergent on his shirt, the left over traces of shampoo, and the underlying scent that was purely Titus.

“I know what I want for our anniversary,” You said, voice a little muffled by his chest. Titus didn’t move, just let out an inquiring hum. “I want to go to the Room.” You felt him shift at that, pulling back slightly and looking down at you with confusion-drawn brows.

“What do you mean?”

“As the victim.” Titus’ eyes widened and he took a deep breath.

“I dont think-”

You cut him off. “Don’t worry. You won’t actually hurt me. It’ll be like a roleplay. Something we can enjoy together.”

“O..kay.” Hesitation still filled his words, but you gave him your best begging eyes. “You know what to do. I’ll take a look and see if it’s something we can accomplish.” You nodded and pressed your face back against him, eager to get every quiet moment before your day officially started.

Roleplay wasn’t new in yours and Titus’ relationship. Most often, it was a simple exchange: pretending to be strangers meeting at one of his hotels during his business trips. Sometimes it was a little more detailed. Once, Titus had asked you to play nurse. You thought it would be a mental exercise, so you were taken aback a bit when you actually had to give him stitches on a self-inflicted knife wound. You were a bit hesitant to continue, but when you saw the pleading in his eyes, you recalled your basic first aid training and patched him up as best you could before he could actually see a doctor. He tore through the stitches that night, of course, at some point during the three times he came deep inside you. After that, you allowed yourself to consider the more…dark…roleplay ideas that swirled in your mind. Each time that either of you had an idea, Titus or you would write up an extremely detailed proposal for the scene. And your anniversary idea had been no different. After a few months of discussing and tweaking details for the comfortability of both parties, you and Titus had agreed on a day.

When you blinked awake, the light above your head pierced into your eyesockets. You let out a groan and shifted. Your movements were restrained and you quickly realized your ankles and wrists were bound to a chair.

“Oh, good, the princess is awake.” A voice sneered from the other side of the room. His back was turned to you, but you could identify the slope of those shoulders and the color of those curls anywhere. Titus was hunched over a small tool bench. You blinked away the lingering blurriness and took in your surroundings. You had never actually been in the Room while Titus was using it. You just made sure everything was sufficiently cleaned up after. It acted as a rage room for him. Except instead of breaking dishes, he broke bones. The sawdust floor caused particles to catch the light of the singular overhead lamp. You sat on a wooden chair, wrists roped to the armrests and ankles tied to the legs. You noted that the rope wasn’t just the regular hardware store grade. You recognized it from when Titus wanted to try Shibari a few years prior. It was soft against your skin and if you really needed to, you could break loose. But the view across from you caught you off guard. Another chair mirrored yours. Sitting in it was a man in his underclothes. The rope binding him to the chair was scratchy and circulation-restricting. He had duct tape over his mouth. His eyes were wild and flicked from you to Titus rapidly. You were surprised. In your scene write-up, you had mentioned that you wanted to see Titus in his element. You wanted to watch him torture someone genuinely and without holding back. Titus had been very unsure about it. Even after all this time and all the things you had been through together, he was scared of revealing that side of himself to you. He knew how brutally carried away he could get, and he hesitated to show you just what kind of monster you had vowed to love. But he had promised to think about it at least. And you were elated that he had decided to indulge. Titus turned to face you, leaning his waist back onto the table. He fiddled with a knife in his hand. “You know, pretty girls like you shouldn’t be walking all alone at night.” He gave a faux pout and tilted his head condescendingly. “There’s dangerous men out there.”

“Please…” You begged softly, eyes widening with fear. “Please don’t hurt me. You don’t have to do this.” Titus let out a dark laugh. A rumbling chuckle that you had never heard before. It settled in your bone marrow and made apprehension shiver up your spine.

“Why are you doing this? What do you want? You don’t have to hurt me. I’ll be good.” He mocked “At least come up with something fucking original.” You blinked back tears.

“I…Who is that?” You nodded at the man in the chair across from you.

“Some guy who owes me money.” Titus shrugged. He crossed the room and pressed the tip of the knife into the man’s tear-stained cheek. “Someone who likes the ponies but doesn’t have the assets to back his bets.” The man whimpered at the sensation of the blade pressing into his skin.

“B-But you don’t need his money, you're a Danforth. You don’t have to hurt him.” You pleaded, struggling weakly against your restraints. Titus stiffened and a small smirk twitched at his mouth.

“You know who I am.” It wasn’t a question. More of an amused observation.

“Of course. Everyone knows who you are.” Your voice faltered as Titus walked over to you. He used the tip of the knife to lift your chin. You looked up at him through tear-spiked eyelashes. “You’re the most powerful man in the world.” Your words were whispered but landed with the intended impact. Titus puffed out his chest slightly. He hummed with approval and slid the knife away from your chin. “W-Why am I here? I’m not…I don’t know him.”

“Wrong place, wrong time.” Titus said simply. “I got this idiot and I saw you walking all alone. And I just couldn’t help myself.” He ran two fingers over your cheek before smooshing the other side with his thumb, causing your lips to pucker. He was wearing black nitrile gloves and the smooth coolness of the material against your skin made you shiver. Titus leaned down closer and nudged your nose with his. “M’always lookin’ for a pretty thing to show off for.” You forced yourself to recoil, actively ignoring the wetness that was forming between your thighs.

“Fucking creep.” You spat, jerking away from him. Titus frowned and stood up. He looked down at you and his nose twitched. His pupils were blown and the muscle of his jaw popped. His hands went to your throat, turning your head and squeezing the sides of your neck. You coughed at the harshness of his hold.

“Here’s how this is gonna go,” He hissed in your ear, forcing you to look at him. “You’re going to watch me take care of my buddy here. And then you’re going to reconsider how nice you want to be to me. Okay?” You let out a whimper as he squeezed his fingers harder. Titus dropped his grip and rolled his shoulders, rounding the chair and walking back to the table. He spread his hands on the table and took a deep breath, considering his options. He cracked his gloved fingers and rolled his shoulders, stretching the muscles there.

He settled on a hammer. He gently tapped it against his palm experimentally and turned on his heel, lazily approaching the other chair. The man jerked against his restraint, continuous pleas muffled by the duct tape. Titus didn’t waste any time. The first hit of the hammer was to the man’s kneecaps. Titus put his entire body weight behind the strike, swinging it almost like a tennis racket against the side of the man’s leg. He tilted his head and pursed his lips at the man’s screech of agony and the cracking of the bone. He subtly looked over his shoulder to gauge your reaction. At first, you were too focused on the way Titus’ powerful muscles rippled beneath his shirt with the movement. But then you remembered your role.

“Stop!” You cried, lunging forward against your restraints. You were impressed with how emotional you were able to make your words. You almost sounded like you really cared. “Please! You don’t have to-” Titus cut off your words with another strike of the hammer, this time against the man’s lower thigh. The thump was softer. Meatier.

“The femur is the strongest bone in the body,” Titus huffed, slightly winded from the exertion. He wasn’t as young as he used to be. “You could theoretically hang a 200 pound weight from the middle and it wouldn’t break.” Another hit to the side of the man’s leg. Tears were streaming from his eyes and his head was thrown back. His entire body quivered beneath Titus. “But, if you repeatedly-” another blow “hit” another “the right” another “spot,” Titus raised the hammer higher, putting even more force into the strike. He brought it down like a pickaxe, swinging into the top of the man’s leg. You heard a sickening crack. “It can fracture.” The man’s curdling scream breached the barrier around his mouth. Titus stepped back and rose to his full height, turning to face you with a sickening grin. “Not a clean break, but enough to immobilize.” The shocked expression on your face was genuine. A tear slipped from your eye.

“Y-You made your point,” you said shakily “You can let us go now.” Titus gave a disappointed sigh.

“Thought you were smarter than that, baby,” He shook his head and looked back at his victim, whose eyes were fluttering. He was struggling to stay conscious as his leg rested at a broken angle, blood from his crushed knee dripping down his leg and staining his sock. When Titus noticed the man’s wavering consciousness, he slapped him across the face. Hard. The man jolted up and looked up at Titus with wet eyes. “You like race horses. Surely you know what happens to one when it breaks a leg.” He pouted. The man’s eyebrows pinched together in a pleading expression as he shook his head ‘no’. Titus nodded with a smile. “Yea.” he confirmed. He turned the hammer around to wield the pronged side. The usually dull forks were sharpened to points. “Say ‘hi’ to Secretariat for me.” His mouth pinched together as he swung the prongs into the side of the man’s neck. The forks lodged themselves into the man’s jugular and blood sprayed from the site. It splattered onto Titus’ forearm. He only released his grip on the handle when the man’s head lolled to the side, eyes dulling as the remnants of his life gushed from his neck and pooled in the sawdust below. Titus wiped the blood from his gloved hand onto his jeans, leaving a dark smear on the fabric. A few moments passed where Titus’ heavy breathing was the only sound that filled the empty air. Then, he turned to you and smirked. You startled under his heated, heavy gaze.

“Are you ready for your turn?” His voice was deep, gravelly, and you’d be lying if it didn’t send a flicker of fear through your chest. You trusted Titus completely, and you weren’t a stranger to the menacing look he was wearing. But it was the first time you’d been on the receiving end of it. An all-consuming depraved and unpredictable hunger that overrode any trace of the man who worshiped you. It was so intense that you didn’t have to fake the tears that dripped from your eyes. You shook your head rapidly, biting down on your lip.

“Please,” You choked out. “Please don’t.” Your eyes flicked to the hammer. Titus tossed the weapon to the ground and his lips peeled back. You realized he was smiling.

“Don’t worry,” He cooed, the light of the lamp reflecting off his canine teeth. “I’ve got different toys just for you.” You were confused when he untied you. Your limbs were still a little fuzzy from the sedative so Titus pulled you up from the chair. He grabbed your middle and flung you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You out a little yelp at the unexpected motion. He carried you into a small storage room in the barn, kicking in the door and laying you across a table. You felt the cold steel through the thin layer of your clothes. You weren’t unbound for long. Titus flipped you over onto your stomach and manhandled your arms so they were behind you. He tied your wrists back together. He leaned down next to your ear. “You gonna be nice to me, or do I need to tie your ankles, too?” You shook your head.

“I-I’ll be good, I promise.” You felt him smile as he kissed your shoulder. He pushed your legs beneath you so that you were kneeling on the table, ass up, but your cheek still rested on the cold metal. The hem of your skirt tickled the back of your bare thighs. Titus flipped up your skirt so it rested on your waist. Titus groaned when he saw the inside of your thighs were glistening with your slick and the crotch of your underwear was practically transparent. “You’re sick,” He chuckled deeply, running a gloved finger up your inseam. “Soaking yourself while watching me torture someone. Tell me,” His fingers drew closer to your pulsing cunt and you felt your clit twitch. “Was it the blood? The bones cracking? What about it made your pussy wet?”

“N-No,” You denied. “M’not- I don’t-” You meant to say that you hated it, play a bit more into the fantasy, but your words were cut off when you felt his fingers push your underwear to the side and stretch the opening of your cunt. You let out a high-pitched whine. The smoothness of the glove made it easy for two of his fingers to go to the knuckle.

“Mhm, sure.” Titus rolled his eyes. “That’s why you're dripping down my wrist.” He slid his fingers in and out lazily, smiling at the way your breathing hitched with each curl of him against your walls. You cried out when he removed himself from you and he watched you clench around nothing. “Relax,” he scoffed, “we’re gonna have some more fun. Just gotta do some things first.” You heard some clattering behind you. You gasped when you felt the cool sharpness of a blade run down your side. “Don’t move.” Titus mumbled as he cut your clothes away from you. The scraps of fabric fell away and the night air raised goosebumps on your skin. He threw your overclothes to the side and carefully unclipped your bra (you had told him that bras were too expensive to cut away) and tossed that on the pile. You were left just in your underwear. But Titus didn’t cut those. He pulled them down and adjusted you so he could take them off in one piece. He used the fabric to wipe away the blood on his forearm. After running it gently over the length of his arm, he brought it to his face and kissed it. He tucked them into his waistband.

You were fully bare now. Titus pulled you up to a kneeling position and told you to hold it for a few moments. He rounded the table to your front. He was holding a pair of small clamps, connected together by a golden chain. You swallowed and your chest heaved. Titus reached for your breast. You jerked back instinctively, which was a mistake. His eyes snapped to yours and frustration twitched on his face. He landed an open-palmed smack to your ass. The action made you gasp and push your tits out. “I told you not to move.” He scolded. He roughly grabbed one of your breasts and pinched the nipple between two of his fingers. He had taken off his gloves and the warmth of his fingers against your nipple made you bite your lip. Titus bent forward, swirling his tongue and sucking until it was sufficiently pebbled. He kissed across your chest until his mouth found the other nub. He repeated the motion until both of your nipples were pointed and aching. Only then did he pull back and open the clamps. The prongs had little rubber coverings at the end. You only realized what they were for when he clipped them simultaneously to your nipples. You let out a whine at the sensation of them digging into you. You squirmed a little but eventually, the pain turned into pleasure. With each breath, the connecting chain shifted against your sensitive skin, which only heightened the sensations. When you stopped squirming, Titus smirked. He leaned in and gave you a sloppy kiss, leading with his tongue. He licked at your mouth and ran his tongue against yours, exploring every inch. It took everything in you not to reciprocate the passion. But when Titus’ hand settled on the back of your head and pushed you needily further into his face, you broke a bit. You moved your lips against his, moaning into his mouth. His other hand ran down the side of your hip and dipped between your thighs. He groaned when his fingers slipped against your cunt. Titus broke the kiss.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He breathed, bottom lip trembling slightly with the exhale. “You ready f’me?” You gave a small nod and he began kissing down your throat and onto your back. He walked back behind you and pressed your torso back down. His hands rested on your hips and helped you scoot back so that your feet dangled over the edge. Titus worked quickly, shucking his shirt over his head and pushing his jeans down to his knees. His cock was painfully hard, had been since he first connected the hammer to the man’s knees and heard your cry of fear. His boxers had been sticky with the amount of precum leaking from his head and he shuddered when the air met the wetness of his cock. Titus pushed into you, filling your sweet cunt with one movement. You gasped and dug your fingers into your restrained palms. You felt his hips flush against yours. He didn’t give you time to adjust to him before he began to move. “Feel s’good, baby,” he panted, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Obscene wet noises joined the chorus of your moans and Titus’ grunts. He used the grip on your hips to fuck you on his thick cock, almost completely removing himself and then burying himself to the hilt with every thrust. Each brush of his cock against your sweet spot made a breathy moan drop from your lips, a sound Titus wanted on repeat. You were practically dripping onto the steel table and your arousal settled into a creamy ring around the base of Titus’ length. He repositioned himself so that he could free one of his hands and reach around your hip. You jolted against him when you felt the first swipe of his finger along your clit. He knew exactly what pace and what shapes had you mewling beneath him, and he wasn’t gentle about building your release. He went straight for the most mind-numbing stimulation he could think of. “I can feel you squeezin’ me,” He panted, pounding into you harder “I know you’re close. Let go. Cum for me.”

“Mm-I can’t, Titus!” You gasped, shaking your head and feeling drool dribble from the corner of your mouth. It was too much. Every nerve in your body was alight and, though you could feel the band tightening in your belly, your mind was too overstimulated to focus on it. It was only made worse when Titus smacked your ass hard. You felt the flesh tingle where each of his five fingers individually hit.

“You can and you will,” Titus growled, baring his teeth. “Prove to me how much you love me. How much you love taking this dick.” You let out a loud whine. Each punch of his cock forced air from your lungs and the minor oxygen deprivation made your body tingle. It was enough for your orgasm to build and it crashed through you brutally. You cried out, tears streaming from your eyes and legs shaking violently as you clenched around him. You felt your release further coat your thighs and Titus kissed down your spine as he fucked you through the orgasm. Emotion built in your chest and you felt a sob tumble from your throat. You took a big shaky breath and felt another wave of tears break. You needed to hold him close to your chest. Needed to look at him. Needed his praise in the moment. You struggled against your restraints.

“P-Printer.” You gasped out, loud enough for Titus to hear you. He stopped immediately and pulled out.

“Honey?” He asked gently, concern filling his voice at the use of your safe word. He walked to the side of the table where your face was, crouching down to your level and pushing your hair out of your eyes. His gaze searched your face as you cried. “Oh my god, baby, fuck, I’m-I’m so sorry.”

“N-Need to be on my back.” You sniffled. Your hips were screaming and your nipples were numb from the clamps. Titus nodded and undid the knot at your wrists. He gently rolled you over and took off the nipple clamps, throwing them to the side like they had personally offended him. When you were on your back and your legs were in a more comfortable position, you grabbed Titus’ hand. You took a few calming breaths and Titus rubbed circles into your palm.

“What happened?” He asked gently. “Was…Was I too rough? I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“I’m fine,” you assured him, blinking away the remaining tears. “I just want to see you. Wanna have my hands in your hair when you cum in me.” Titus’ mouth twitched and his eyes were wide with uncertainty.

“We don’t have to continue if it was too much for you. We can stop. Take a bath and watch something.”

“Please, Titus,” You urged, running your hand down his chest “Need you to fill me up.” He didn’t seem convinced, worry still rounding his eyes. You pulled him into a gentle kiss. “Please.” He sighed against your lips and nodded.

“I’ll be gentle.” He promised as he climbed back on top of you. He re-entered you slowly, watching your face closely for any discomfort, but found only a look of pleasure as you stretched around him. He rolled his hips slowly, only picking up the pace when you dug your heels into his ass.

“Please,” you keened “I need you so bad.” Titus furrowed his brows.

“W’d’you mean, sweetheart?” He mumbled in confusion “You got me. I’m right here. I’ve got you.” You shook your head with a needy whine.

“N-Need you closer.” You clawed at his back and pulled him close to you so that his full weight was on top of you. His head nestled into the crook of your neck and he continued fucking into you. Your fingers tangled in the silver curls at the nape of his neck. You pulled your knees closer to your chest and the new angle made you feel even more full of him. “I f-fucking love you so much.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” He confessed against your skin “I love you more than everything.” His thrusts got sloppier with each passing moment. You knew he was close and you allowed your walls to grip him tighter, drawing another moan right against your ear. You bit down on his shoulder and dug your nails into his back. Titus whimpered at the sensation and pushed himself as far into you as he could, emptying himself deep within you. He gasped as he rode out his own release before settling heavy on top of you. His warmth and the pressure of his body soothed you in a way that only he could provide. You kissed at the imprint your teeth left in the meat of his muscle. Titus lifted his head and kissed your lips romantically, soft pecks and little licks. You let your head rest against his and closed your eyes, feeling exhaustion settle into every corner of your mind and body.

“Mm-mm,” He hummed, shaking his head. He removed his softening cock and the loss of him made you pout. “Don’t fall asleep here. Gotta get you back and cleaned up. You think you can do that for me?” You sighed and nodded. Titus pulled up his pants and helped you pull his shirt over your naked frame. He’d come and clean up tomorrow, but right now, you were his top priority. He curled an arm beneath your knees and picked you up, pressing you against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck and settled into the position. You closed your eyes as Titus carried you back to the house. You gave him a sweet smile and mumbled your gratitudes into his chest. You didn’t see it, but Titus smiled, too. A rare, genuinely fond smile only reserved for you.

“You’re welcome, honey. I love you, too.”

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