[The one who penetrates holds the most power. He's always known that to be true.
A snap of his hips and he's in to the hilt, metal and swollen flesh and aggressive, iron desire, nails gouging deeper into Hector as he tugs him into the next thrust and the next, panting. He throws his head back, drowning in relief, sense and reason sinking with him. He thinks about fucking Hector brainless until blood slicks them both. Thinks about fucking him inside out and turning him over and laying his hands on him, slotting the webs of his thumbs around his throat and clamping his hands around him again just to feel the wild pulsing of muscles and blood vessels against the pads of his fingers. Relishing in the crazy thrill of toeing the line between here and too far gone while watching the stricken look in Hector's eyes soften as they glass over.
He's an animal. Taking and taking and taking. And Julia - if fate is so cruel as to bring them together again - could preach of the hope she held for everyone, could tell him he still had a human heart beating inside him. But he had seen the way she looked at him when she found him, alone, the year before Rosaly burned. He remembers the shades of hurt and doubt in her eyes, a look that seemed to say there was only so much more she could take of feeling like she was watching something slowly dying.
Not everyone can be saved. Not everyone wants to be.
What he know for sure is that it takes spearing Hector on his cock, hurting him, to come close to feeling alive. Like more than a dead man walking.
Nothing new. But he feels this open a pit in his stomach like it never has before, their ragged panting and the slap of skin on skin growing sharper and louder, scraping his eardrums.
He doesn't realize he has pulled out until he drops back, like the air's been slammed out of his lungs. Blood roars through him, a useless throbbing. His body has never failed him; it's begging for more, even if more is never enough. Even as he feels a deep, sick rage rolling through him and sucks in a breath through his teeth and knows it's over.]
Fuck! [He snarls at the wall, scrubbing a hand down his face.]
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A snap of his hips and he's in to the hilt, metal and swollen flesh and aggressive, iron desire, nails gouging deeper into Hector as he tugs him into the next thrust and the next, panting. He throws his head back, drowning in relief, sense and reason sinking with him. He thinks about fucking Hector brainless until blood slicks them both. Thinks about fucking him inside out and turning him over and laying his hands on him, slotting the webs of his thumbs around his throat and clamping his hands around him again just to feel the wild pulsing of muscles and blood vessels against the pads of his fingers. Relishing in the crazy thrill of toeing the line between here and too far gone while watching the stricken look in Hector's eyes soften as they glass over.
He's an animal. Taking and taking and taking. And Julia - if fate is so cruel as to bring them together again - could preach of the hope she held for everyone, could tell him he still had a human heart beating inside him. But he had seen the way she looked at him when she found him, alone, the year before Rosaly burned. He remembers the shades of hurt and doubt in her eyes, a look that seemed to say there was only so much more she could take of feeling like she was watching something slowly dying.
Not everyone can be saved. Not everyone wants to be.
What he know for sure is that it takes spearing Hector on his cock, hurting him, to come close to feeling alive. Like more than a dead man walking.
Nothing new. But he feels this open a pit in his stomach like it never has before, their ragged panting and the slap of skin on skin growing sharper and louder, scraping his eardrums.
He doesn't realize he has pulled out until he drops back, like the air's been slammed out of his lungs. Blood roars through him, a useless throbbing. His body has never failed him; it's begging for more, even if more is never enough. Even as he feels a deep, sick rage rolling through him and sucks in a breath through his teeth and knows it's over.]
Fuck! [He snarls at the wall, scrubbing a hand down his face.]