You gasp for air as Sam lets you pull away, his hand a firm weight on the back of your head as you blink away tears. When you glance up at him, his face is impassive, half hidden away behind his gas mask, and the part you can see is schooled into the eerie blankness of The Warden.
Still, you see Sam in him every day, in the way he makes sure you’ve eaten that day when he comes home from the prison, in the way his eyes linger on the tears dripping down you cheeks, the drool slicking your chin and neck. The gentle way he tangles his fingers in your hair, petting you as you catch your breath.
You wish you hand your hands for this, wish you could brace yourself on Sam’s impressive thighs as you open your mouth again, sticking out your tongue in a silent plead for him to continue. Instead, the metallic clink of the handcuffs that usually hang from Sam’s belt let him know every time you try to disobey and touch him.
The Warden hums quietly, pulling you back onto his dick, using his grip in your hair to control your pace, leisurely using you as a fleshlight for a few minutes before he snaps his hip ruthlessly forward, making you choke as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. You gag and whine the best you can, the deep chuckle he responds with making arousal spike in your gut.
He’s kind enough to give you a second to take a breath, and then he’s shifting, holding you face in both hands as he pushes his cock down your throat, groaning at how you choke around him before forcing yourself to relax, to let him rock his hips and fuck your throat as you cry and watch his eyes roll back.
He starts slow, but quickly builds up a brutal pace that has you straining against the cuffs, instinctive and half desperate to touch yourself, the feeling of being used fueling you. If you’re lucky, maybe Sam will make you cum once you’ve swallowed all he has to give you.
The thought has you doing your best to swallow around him, doing your best to be his perfect toy, and you’re rewarded for your efforts with the way his thrusts stutter and the way the Warden moans loudly. It’s not long at all until he’s pulling you all the way down on his cock, cutting off all air as he cums down your throat.
You’re an absolute mess when he lets you pull away. You can tell he appreciates it from the way he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, catching drool and cum and pushing it into your mouth. You can feel yourself soaking your underwear, desperate for any stimulation, and you’re about to beg for it when Sam crouches down in front of you.
He’s pulled down his mask and he catches your chin in a firm hand, pulling you into a bruising kiss. You’re hopeful for a moment, hoping this means he’ll touch you, fuck you, something, but instead he stands and replaces his mask. You whine when he turns to leave his office, and he pauses in the doorway to look back at you. You can see how his eyes crinkle as he speaks, see that he’s smiling as he leaves you there until he’s ready to leave for the day.
warnings for dom/sub, drool mention, marking, brief moment of reader starting to edge towards subdrop
You can’t remember how you got here, straddling one of Sam’s thighs, the thick muscle pressing against you and making you whimper, the firm hold he has on your jaw not helping in the slightest. His gaze is predatory, the green of his irises practically glowing against the black of the rest of his eyes as he watches you choke on moans, his other hand an iron grip on your hip, ensuring you move at his pace or not at all.
At some point between him coming home unexpectedly and now, he’d stripped you down entirely, working you up with well placed bite marks until you were a needy mess, exactly how he wanted you. Now you’re staring helplessly into his eyes as the leather of his leggings slides over you, slick in a way you didn’t think you could get.
It’s agony, the way he moves you, like you’re absolutely nothing in the face of his will and brute strength, the way he breaks up the pace by bouncing his leg occasionally, tearing a whine of his name from you. It’s heavenly, the way he smiles when your eyes roll back, when your jaw goes slack and drool drips past your lips. The way you can feel his cock hard against your thigh with every roll of your hips he guides you through.
Every part of you aches to have him in you, for more, for everything he can possibly give you, you can take it, Sammy, won’t you fuck me please? Begging rarely coaxes your lover into giving you what you want, not when he’s like this, all confidence and unbending steel, more warden than man, but god if it doesn’t add to the heat in your belly.
His grip on your hip lets up, and you’re so taken by being able to fuck yourself against his thigh as fast and hard as you’re desperate for that you barely notice when he moves from holding you jaw to fisting a hand in your hair, pulling your head back and ducking in to suck dark marks against your throat when you whine.
You can feel his smile against your jaw line, the rough stubble tickling as he murmurs in your ear, low and gravelly in a way you know he knows drives you wild. Be good for him, he purrs, and make a pretty mess on his leg, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll fill you up like you’re gagging for.
You’re whining, loud and needy, rutting against him, the leather under you soaked to the point it must have soaked through by now. It’s so good, leaving you clinging to Sam and moaning unabashedly, but it’s also not enough. You can feel tears pricking at your eyes, and the sound that you make is more pitiful than it is sexy, making embarrassment creep hot up your neck, your cheeks burning.
Sam barely pauses in his transition from hard angles and unrelenting will to something softer, nuzzling his cheek to yours, a comforting purr rumbling from deep in his chest, washing away the tenseness you hadn’t even realized crept into you. The hand in your hair softens, running through and petting softly, and you melt into it. My poor baby, your lover croons, you need a hand, darling?
You’re barely through nodding before he’s touching you, fingers gathering your own wetness and sliding slick over you. He likes to tease, your Sam, but he doesn’t even try now, instead methodically driving you over the edge and purring as you wail his name. It takes you a moment to come back to yourself, after, the intensity leaving you dizzy, but when you look at him he has the fingers he touched you with in his mouth, expression smug as he makes a show of cleaning them off.
So good for me, baby, he murmurs, eyes glinting and smile wicked. I promised I’d fuck you silly now, didn’t I? Oh? You thought that was it? Oh no, darling, that was just the beginning.
