Your hands were absentmindedly roaming his front when he woke up. The two of you were on your side, the morning sun filtering through the windows. As he shifted and you sensed he had awoken, you got up, dressed and simply… left.
He was bewildered by your behaviour.
You were his latest favorite hookup, you topped and it was a nice switchup. It was an on and off thing, sometimes, when he didn’t go out at night. But never once did you ask about his wounds. The scars and stitches and bruises that were all over his body, fresh and old. You just fucked him and left.
All the other people he was ever with always let their curiosity get the better of them and asked. Why didn’t you? He played with the blanket, twisting it between two fingers as he thought. He knows he has more bruises than usual, yet you still didn’t notice. Or was it just that you didn’t care? Whatever. He didn’t care. Right?
-
You walked into his room after another call from him. It was always like this. Like you were something to be summoned. To be honest, you didn’t really like his high and mighty attitude. But his hole was so nice… That was the only reason you kept coming back.
Dropping your jacket on the floor, you glanced at his still form on the bed. He was laying on his stomach, lower half covered by the blanket, face away from you. Your intercourse was always silent, far from intimate. You both got what you wanted- like a transactional relationship.
When you prepped him, he tried to muffle his groans. And he made sure to face you, legs spread nice and open, always staring at you with those eyes of his. He stares at you like he’s waiting for something, watching for reactions.
Slightly irked, you purposely pressed his prostate and he closed those irritating eyes of his from the pleasure. Huffing, you pulled out your fingers, and somewhat roughly, turned him to his back. Your breath hitched when you saw it. A large bruise running across from his mid waist to hip. You traced it softly and he practically whimpered.
Smirking, you shook your head. Who knew he, the man known for his dominating and intimidating demeanor, was like this? You gently lifted his hips, it was going to be hard to do this without hurting him. You lined yourself up, squeezing his thigh as you pressed in and his rim sucked you in. Leaning down and breathing heavily, you whispered in his ear, warning him that it was going to hurt.
Thrusting in harshly, you gripped his thighs. He let out a guttural moan, biting on the sheets. You gave a few experimental thrusts and scowled. This wasn’t gonna work, you needed a better hold. You opted for his wrists that clutched the sheets, basically mounting him. His teeth left their place as he turned to you. The usually silent man stares at you in confusion.
“What are you-?” He gets cut off with another thrust. Oh yeah, this is good. He lets out a shocked moan as he squeezes his eyes shut. His mind was filled with nothing but the way you made him feel so good, how you were the perfect fit to be able to touch every inch of him.
His jaw is slack, allowing drool to seep out of his mouth. He trembled and shivered, moaned and groaned, but he always stayed still. Completely in one place, just for you. Unfinished hey haha i forgot the plot for this oh no what to do what to do let’s just bullshit it for the rest lmao You clench your teeth to suppress your own moans, cause no way were you giving him the satisfaction of him having made you feel good.
You remember the smug look on his face the first time you had sex, loud groans leaving your mouth the entire time, the way you had come way too fast. Just the thought of that face irritated you and you sped up. What snapped you out of it was the moan he made, definitely not out of pleasure.
It was a pained one, immediately making you slow down in your relentless abuse to his hole. You almost asked him if he was okay, biting your lip to stop yourself. It wasn’t like you cared.
He slowly turned his head to you and you flinched when you realized that his eyes looked wet. Wow, that was a pretty look on him.
His face had a look of realization before a sleepy smile spread across his features. “You do care…” He mumbled. “I… knew it…” Just as you were about to deny it, his body slumped and went limp underneath you.
…Did he just faint?
-
You had finished applying the balm you brought and tidying the area up when you looked at the time. It was the dead of night. You stretched and groaned, picking up your stuff to leave. You glanced at his peaceful form, a feeling of guilt building up. You had made him faint. You tsked at yourself, his words from earlier had gotten to you. Whatever. You thought. You already vowed you wouldn’t come back to this place (even though you knew it wasn’t true, you were a weak man). You left without another glance.









