Clive settles comfortably on top of Barnabas, hands pressing against his chest before nails dig in sharply, harshly. In one quick motion, he's dragging his nails down chest and abdomen to create rather long scratch marks that break skin and bleed.
A way to retaliate and be a brat, still. A way of telling him that he still hates his guts, even as he sits here, ready to take Barnabas inside of him again.
He hates himself for it. He is disgusted with himself with the way he so easily bends to his will. Literally and not so literally. He can't help himself when Barnabas gives him attention and touch he has craved for so very long.
He's not going to just take it without fighting back, though. Even if it's in the form of scratching the hell out of him, which probably only turns him on more than anything.
Another rock of his hips to grind himself against Barnabas and he huffs, he's already still so oversensitive but Barnabas asks him to ride him and fuck, he doesn't know if he can resist.
"I still hate you, you know." Clive breathes as he lifts hips up, reaching to guide Barnabas' cock inside of him once more. After being fucked and cum inside of multiple times, it is easy to guide him in and slowly, he sinks down until Barnabas is all the way inside of him.
A shiver runs down his body, likely visible, and the gasp can not be hidden. Not with the way he is already so sensitive. His hips roll slowly against Barnabas, not quite moving up and down his cock yet but instead rocking against him for friction, electing a whimper from Clive. It sounds pathetic but fuck, he can't help it. Not when every nerve inside of him is on fire.
He isn't so sure he can do this, he isn't sure he can handle much more, but he'll try at the very least.