The Butterfly Killer

Chapter 30

30

Marcus gaped at the open door leading into an office. He took another look at the nameplate out in the hall.

Detective Marcus Palmer

Fucking detective.

He took a step back. And immediately bumped into someone. He whirled around, an apology almost slipping from his mouth, but the second he saw who it was, it died in the back of his throat. It turned into something sour that made him grimace.

Detective Blevins looked as if he’d smelled what Marcus tasted. “I can’t believe they let you back.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He knew what Blevins was hinting at. The rumors of a mole in the precinct had been circling for the past few months, even before Marcus returned. Patrice had filled him in about what had happened when he’d been…kidnapped. Someone was working for Cortez and had leaked information about the Butterfly Case.

Blevins rolled his eyes. He stood with his arms crossed, eyes flickering to the end of the hall before they settled back onto Marcus. Blevins looked down on him like he was a cockroach crawling over his food.

“It means exactly what it means.” Blevins took a step forward and Marcus would have took a step back before all the shit he went through. He held his ground and that pissed Blevins off even more. His jaw clenched. He looked like he was about to chip a tooth.

“Look here, Palmer . I don’t know what dicks you sucked to get promoted, but I’m not going to fall for the bullshit you put in your report. The Feds and Chief might believe you, but make no mistake, I’m going to find out exactly what happened.”

Blevins eyes narrowed. He stared Marcus down, waiting for Marcus to crack. When it didn’t happen, he tsked and backed away. He turned quickly on his heels and marched down the hall back to where his office was.

Marcus let out a sigh he’d been holding. While he didn’t let Blevins see how much his words rattled him, it wasn’t like he wasn’t affected.

He rolled his shoulders, shaking off the nerves that had almost gotten him to crack under Blevins harsh gaze. The man used to just frustrate him, but now he felt as though he needed to watch out for Blevins. There was no telling if the man was just suspicious or he was waiting to stab Marcus in the back. Either way, he needed to make sure Blevins stayed the hell away from him and kept his nose out of what happened while Marcus was “away”.

He turned back to look inside the office that was now his. Though his name was on it, it was an uncanny feeling to think of it as his.

The feeling didn’t get any better when he stepped inside. The air in the room felt heavy. He took steady breaths though he felt like he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

His first thought was that he didn’t deserve any of this. The walls were blank—too bright white, they made him sick to his stomach. The walls swirled, falling as if they were going to suck him into the vortex they’d become. The large desk in the middle of the room, the fluffy desk chair, and the stupid nameplate that once again announced who he was now: Detective Marcus Palmer.

He tasted copper in his mouth. In the short time—or had a matter of long minutes passed?—he’d been standing there, he’d bitten hard enough on his tongue to cause himself to bleed.

The pain was nothing to the numbness that frightened him. He didn’t think he could be afraid of anything after what he’d done. He thought all of this would be over when he came home. But this place didn’t feel like home.

The trashed apartment which had only gotten worse in his absence had never felt comforting. He barely spent time there. This, the precinct, was his home. This was his safe space.

It wasn’t no more. He’d tainted it. He’d ruined what this place had meant to him. And it was only his fault. He was the only one to blame for it.

He almost jumped a mile high when someone rapped their knuckles to the still open door.

He turned on his heels, heart racing, and only settled when he saw it was just Patrice.

“Hey,” he said with a croak. He cleared his throat as he awkwardly placed his hands into his pockets.

Patrice smiled widely as if nothing had changed, as if nothing between them had changed. Marcus wanted to believe in this normality, but his mind knew the truth. He’d become distant, even more so than when they were close friends before his loyalty lied with someone Patrice would no doubt despise.

“I brought you something. To celebrate your new office!” He held up a brown bag with cursive on it. Della’s Delights , a new bakery that had opened down the street.

Marcus genuinely smiled even if it didn’t reach his eyes. But had he ever been that happy?

Patrice welcomed himself in. He sat the bag on Marcus’s newly polished desk and started laying out the feast of sugar they were about to dine on. The assortment was bright colors mixed with delicious looking chocolatey browns only distracted Marcus for a moment.

“Patrice.”

The medical examiner picked at a muffin as he looked up. “Hm?”

“Thank you.”

Patrice stilled. His soft gaze was too hard to meet.

Patrice placed his arm around Marcus’s shoulder and pulled him close. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

Marcus nodded.

“But…promise me you’re done.”

It wasn’t a question or really a request. The firmness in Patrice’s voice wasn’t subtle.

Marcus looked Patrice in the eyes.

“I promise.”

It was the easiest lie he’d ever told in his life.

Home had become the dilapidated apartment downtown that was a bitch to get to and from. The building it resided in was on the verge of collapsing, didn’t have a functioning or reliable elevator, and some of the floors were condemned while the rest of the building had been deemed “livable”.

Marcus’s treatment of the apartment or the furnishings inside probably didn’t make it any better. With the help of Patrice, they’d been able to clean up most of the molded trash, thrown out any dry-rotted heaps of clothing, and had dealt with the bug infested refrigerator that had decided to give out while he was gone.

The place definitely smelled better, even before things started to rot, but habits were hard to quit and Marcus wasn’t quick to say he’d fallen into depression however he’d certainly fallen into some kind of slump.

He didn’t bother turning on the lights when he came in. Shoulders slumped, he threw his keys onto the coffee table and kicked the door shut with his heel. As he stumbled toward his bed that was inside his kitchen, dining room, and living room, he loosened his tie.

He didn’t make more than three steps in before a large body pressed against his back and a hand wrapped around his throat.

The panic hit him. Adrenaline rushed through his veins. He reacted before a thought even crossed his mind. He threw his elbow back, hitting the man in the gut. The man grunted, but his hand on Marcus’s throat only tightened.

A dark chuckle tickled Marcus’s ear. “I guess I do deserve that.”

Marcus sputtered. “Roman?!”

He turned around, the hand on his throat loosening so he could. It was pitch dark in the apartment, but Marcus didn’t need to see to confirm it was indeed Roman. His hands went to Roman’s face. His face was shaven and his hair felt a little shorter, but Marcus could just feel the sharp jawline, the downturned lips that were now raised in a lop-side smirk, and the hooded eyes that had pierced straight through Marcus’s soul.

“It’s you. Holy shit, it’s really you.” Marcus couldn’t breathe, but he still pulled Roman in for a kiss. It was hard and rushed, a bruising kiss that would leave Marcus’s mouth sore.

It wasn’t enough. It never would be. These months, these long aching days that had passed between them had ripped Marcus’s soul into pieces. Seeing Roman now would slowly patch it back together, but it was as if he needed to make up for this time apart.

Roman kissed him back with just as much fervor. Their teeth clashed. It jolted both of them enough that they laughed, but it quickly died as Roman pushed Marcus backward toward the bed.

Marcus grabbed at Roman’s shirt. He had to hold himself back from clawing it or just ripping it right off his torso. Roman wasn’t patient. He yanked Marcus’s jacket it like it personally offended him. It landed somewhere on the floor. Next was Marcus’s dress shirt which didn’t survive the onslaught. Roman tore through the button-up, the plastic buttons landing all around them, some of them ending up in the bed. Neither cared.

Marcus shuddered as Roman broke away from their passionate kiss to run his mouth down Marcus’s neck.

It was when Roman’s wet hot mouth slotted over his right nipple that his legs gave out from beneath him. He landed on the edge of his bed. The frame gave a low groan that warned it was about to give out. Still, Marcus didn’t care. He wanted Roman. It didn’t matter how, he just wanted .

But as soon as Marcus almost got what he wanted, it was taken away.

Roman pushed away, panting to Marcus’s elation.

“We need to talk first,” Roman said—or well tried to say as much as he could while Marcus lunged at him again.

His mouth was attacked by Marcus’s. They kissed deeply again, Marcus’s tongue sucking on Roman’s.

“No talking,” Marcus gasped out when he came up from air.

Roman almost gave in. His body loosened into a putty that Marcus could manipulate. He was pulling Roman down onto him when Roman shook him off again.

“There’s nothing more I’d like to do than fuck you until we both keel over, but this is serious. I swear.”

A moment passed where both of them stayed utterly still. Marcus’s chest rose and fell in a rapid pattern. His breaths were labored and Roman’s were the same. Their eyes were locked though they couldn’t see one another.

Finally, Marcus’s hazy mind cleared just enough that he found the energy to lean across the bed and turn on the side-table lamp.

The room was lit-up in a harsh yellow light that did no favors to the dirty room. Marcus cringed at the mess, but thankful that most of the trash had been cleaned out prior. If Roman was put off by the clothes, take-out containers, and random bits of trash, he didn’t let it show.

“Is it about Lucas Cortez?” Marcus didn’t dare say “your cousin”.

Roman loomed at the foot of the bed. “Yes and no.”

Marcus ran a hand through his hair. Roman had already messed it up while they were making out.

“He talked about a deal. To keep me safe. I haven’t been in touch with the FBI so I don’t know what he could possibly want from me now.”

Roman slowly moved around the bed. He crouched in front of Marcus.

“He said that, but it was me that wanted him to see you that day in the hospital.”

Marcus jerked his head up. “What?”

Roman cupped Marcus’s face. “I couldn’t see you myself so he went in my stead. The deal he struck up isn’t concrete. I’ve given him my loyalty and he knows that if anything were to happen to you then he’d lose me. Protecting you is insuring that I continue to work for him.”

Marcus’s brows pinched. “And the thing with the Feds…”

“It’ll be useful having you on the inside.” Roman’s voice lowered. “You are with me, right butterfly?”

Marcus’s stomach fluttered. His eyes lowered as Roman’s hand moved once more to his throat. It was a comforting weighted pressure. Not forceful or threatening like it had been in the cabin. Everything and nothing had changed since then. It was an in-between that made Marcus feel nostalgic to that time even though he should have been shitting bricks right about now.

“I am.” He laughed. “I’m fucked up, aren’t I?”

Roman leaned up and placed a sweet kiss on the corner of Marcus’s mouth. “I don’t care what you are. I want all of it.”

Another kiss and Marcus thought this was it, they were going to finally fuck, but Roman stopped again. This time, Marcus let his frustration be known with a whine.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to that. One more thing.” He took a look around the apartment. “How attached are you to living here?”

Marcus’s brows went up. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

Roman grinned. “It’s convenient isn’t it? Every night I’ll have you at my mercy…”

Marcus didn’t get to give his answer. Roman kissed down his chest, turning him into putty. His moans drowned out any coherent thought he might have or doubt. It wouldn’t have mattered if he answered vocally or not. His answer would have been yes and Roman probably wouldn’t have taken a no anyway. Marcus grew harder at the thought. Shame washed over him as he thought how turned on he was at the idea of Roman taking him as if he owned him.

Roman pushed Marcus back onto the bed. He spread out, arms going above his head like a figure on a cross. He felt like one of those insects pinned on Roman’s wall in the cabin. Each kiss, lick, or suck on his flesh was another needle.

He was harder than he’d ever been. Even the exhaustion from work couldn’t deter the fire in his gut.

Roman was more gentle with Marcus’s pants. He unbuttoned them and yanked them down along with his boxers. His cock sprung up, slapping his quivering stomach. He hissed at the cold air.

His pants pooled at his ankles. Roman kneeled on the floor, sliding between Marcus’s thighs. His warm hands left goosebumps on his skin as he snaked his way to Marcus’s crotch. His dick twitched with anticipation.

He moaned as Roman fisted his cock. He tossed his head back, writhing just from this touch alone. Roman began pumping him with slow but steady strokes.

“When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

Marcus wanted to lie. He really did. But when he opened his eyes, Roman was staring him down with a look that melted his insides. He swallowed the denial and reached out to Roman for mercy.

Roman grabbed the hand Marcus held out to him and shoved it onto the bed. He stopped stroking, squeezing the base of Marcus’s dick, staving off the orgasm that had been rising fast to the finish line.

“Shit! Fuck, okay! Last night!”

Roman’s grip loosened, but he didn’t let go. He grinned, showing his teeth in the little moonlight coming through the window above the bed. “Really? What were you thinking about?”

Marcus’s face flushed. His whole body lit up with a fire that licked his flesh. He began to shake his head when Roman frowned.

“If you’re not going to tell me, I’m just going to have to wring it out of you.” Then he dipped down and gave a hard suck to the tip of Marcus’s dick.

Marcus bucked his hips and howled as the delicious heat and suction felt like it was going to rip his dick apart.

Roman just barely let his teeth graze the sensitive head. That was all it took to have Marcus falling apartment on the bed, writhing in pain and pleasure twisting up inside him. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. Roman pulled away after the torture.

He blew onto the reddened mushroom head. It was salt to the wound.

Marcus cried out. He let out a broken sob as his balls swelled painfully.

Roman pulled away. His dark eyes watched Marcus.

“Are you going to tell me now?”

Marcus trembled. The shakes were uncontrollable. “I was thinking of you. Roman, please .”

It must have been the right thing to say—the truth admittedly—and it had Roman finally climbing up from where he was between Marcus’s thighs. All the control he seemed to have vanished. Marcus didn’t know how he could hold himself back at all when Marcus was about to burst from the mere idea of Roman touching him.

Their mouths were on each other again. The frenzy of hands all over each other’s bodies was a sea of chaos.

Then, Marcus found himself being flipped over on his stomach. His hips were hitched so his ass was up in the air and his face was shoved into the rumbled covers. His heated breath fanned over his face.

His fingers clawed at the sheet. The blanket had been shoved to the side to make room for what they were about to do. Roman’s hands snaked up Marcus’s naked thighs. His pants were awkwardly hanging off his ankles, but he didn’t care as Roman kneeled on the bed, bracketing his own legs.

Goosebumps rose where Roman’s fingers grazed. He was exposed, laid bare to Roman’s mercy. He felt more vulnerable than when Roman had no intention of keeping him alive forever. It was strange to think that he’d ever been afraid of Roman or he’d ever wanted to hurt him.

Now, he was willing to give the man everything. Anything he desired and he’d hand it over in a heartbeat.

His own heartbeat was fluttering rapidly against his ribcage. He felt it in his throat which had become as dry as his mouth. He swallowed, wishing to taste Roman’s mouth again, but also torn because he didn’t want Roman to stop touching him down there.

Another round of nervousness racketed up his spine. It was a shudder that turned into a stillness he couldn’t help or hide.

Roman felt it. He in turn stilled, his hands resting on the globes of Marcus’s ass.

“What is it?”

His voice was so soft Marcus could have pretended to not hear it. He could have just demanded Roman fuck him to get it over with, take his pleasure and not care about Marcus’s. That would have still be good for Marcus. Having Roman rut into him, moaning until he came inside him, it would have been enough even if Marcus himself didn’t get off.

But he knew Roman wouldn’t have been happy with that. His satisfaction was closely tied to Marcus’s. He loved to see him fall apart and there was no doubt that falling apart on his dick like a bitch would also count as well.

“You can do it,” Marcus said loud enough that Roman couldn’t dismiss it. “You can…do whatever you want to me.”

It was permission; it was submission. It was complete control over him because what was the use in pretending Roman didn’t already own him? If it wasn’t his body, it was his mind. Roman was all he thought about anymore and he knew it would never change.

There was a stillness that settled over the two of them. All that remained was Marcus’s ragged breaths echoed by the bunched fabric hiding only a portion of his face from Roman’s watching gaze.

He didn’t dare move, even to fully conceal his face. He didn’t want this spell to be broken, but he also didn’t want to keep still like this. His cock was hard and ready. He wanted to take it.

Slowly, as if he were torturing Marcus on purpose, Roman got up and leaned over Marcus’s arched form. His pressed his chest against Marcus’s back, their naked skin to skin an electrifying sensation. And then his cheek was against Marcus’s and he was whispering shattering words to the corner of his mouth that made him breathless.

“Do not tell me or anyone else that ever,” Roman said. If it was meant to be firm like a command, Roman utterly failed. His was just as breathless as Marcus, barely hanging on by a thread as they were unraveled in each other’s arms.

Roman’s hand slid over Marcus’s throat. Marcus’s pulse quickened. “You forget, butterfly, I’m not kind. I will take you apart, but I promise to put you back together.”

Marcus tried to nod, but Roman’s hand kept his head from moving. “I want that. I want all of it. I don’t care?—”

“You should!” Roman hissed. “If you give me permission…if you beg me like that…I don’t know if I can keep it together.”

Marcus wanted that too. He wanted Roman’s control. He wanted to be the reason Roman’s walls crumbled. He wanted the power to bring him to his knees without lifting a finger.

Marcus managed to find the energy to place his hand on top of Roman’s around his throat. He held it there, urging Roman to not let go.

To top it off, he spread his legs.

The slight movement had Roman’s jaw locking up. He was fighting himself. Marcus could feel the danger wafting off Roman. He never forgot who exactly he was letting into his bed. He knew what he was getting himself into.

“There’s lube under my bed.”

Roman’s head dropped. He nuzzled the crook of Marcus’s neck. “I don’t want to let you go.”

Marcus didn’t react for a second. Then, a smile broke over his lips and he giggled. “How can you be so cute at a time like this?”

Roman pouted. He fucking pouted . Marcus could feel it on his skin and he wanted to get it inked there, maybe get it carved because he didn’t want to forget this fluttering feeling.

They maneuvered so Marcus could lean over the side of the bed and grab the lube laying on it side on the floor. The cap wasn’t entirely on and there was a line of lube down the side. Thankfully, Marcus had used it just the night before—he hadn’t lied about masturbating to the thought of Roman—and it hadn’t dried out.

With Roman still lying on top of him, he squirted a good amount on his fingers. Somehow he managed to get his hand between his legs. He startled from the cold gel on his perineum. He circled the rim of his hole with his middle finger. The sensation wasn’t new, but with Roman on top of him, it heightened the arousal.

Roman removed himself from being plastered to Marcus’s back. It gave Marcus more mobility to touch himself, but he missed Roman’s warmth.

That warmth was transferred to his ass and zeroed in on what he was doing with his fingers.

Roman sat back on his heels behind Marcus. He definitely had a full view of Marcus’s ass.

Marcus’s thighs trembled as he inserted a finger. This wasn’t new either. Tugging his cock to Roman had quickly not been enough. He’d turned to sucking his fingers, imagining Roman was fucking his throat while he jerked off. That too, wasn’t enough. It escalated to fingering himself though he never got above two. He’d thought about buying something bigger, fucking himself through the longing, but he’d talked himself out of it.

Electric shocks went up and down his spine. His fingers curled inside, touching places not used to it. Those sensations, uncomfortable as they were at first, grew into white-hot arousal that made a layer of sheen sweat appear over his body.

Marcus rocked his hips back and forth. His cock hardened. It dripped pre-cum onto the sheets, creating a wet spot. His fingers became rougher with their stretching. The burn was jarring at first, but once he got used to it, there was pleasure in it as well.

He hadn’t noticed his eyes had fallen shut. He’d been concentrated on opening himself up that he’d lost himself in his own little world.

They flew open when Roman’s hands ghosted over the curve of his hip.

“Sorry,” Marcus muttered. He withdrew his fingers, hole twitching at the emptiness.

Roman gave his hip a gentle squeeze. “Take your time. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Marcus couldn’t help the snicker. He shook his head into the mattress. “Really? You’re saying that now?”

He wanted to get fucked into the mattress. His body might be apprehensive, but that was to be expected for his first time. Playing with toys and fingers wouldn’t be the same as a real cock going up his ass. Or being fucked the way he wanted to be.

He shivered when the thought about how he wanted Roman to not care about Marcus’s pleasure and just take. It definitely wasn’t healthy, but who said any of this was healthy?

He took a deep breath. He reinserted his fingers, going deeper this time. He stretched himself more than he’d done before, knowing Roman was really watching this time. He was so close, hands on Marcus’s waist, fingers gripping his flesh, and his eyes focused on what Marcus was doing to himself.

Marcus couldn’t help when he wiggled his hips. His jaw went slack, mouth open as he silently moaned. His fingers were brushing up against his prostrate, not quite there on top of it, but everything was so sensitive inside him once he got past the initial burn.

His hips swiveled. Roman’s grip tightened as if Marcus was trying to get away from him. Oh, it was the complete opposite. Marcus couldn’t wait for him to be inside him. He craved it. It seemed like that was the only thing that would keep him from falling apart.

With Roman’s fingers leaving behind bruises, Marcus’s hold relaxed further, sucking his fingers in as far as they could go.

“Oh fuck!” He hips stuttered, his cock aching to rut against anything. He was definitely hitting his prostrate now. His hand cramped, but he tried to press in further to pound into the nub making him feel so good.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. As much as it pained him, he withdrew his fingers again. The ache was even greater this time. His hole twitched in the open air, trying to tempt Roman alone, but Marcus was like a cat in heat. He mewed even, his face burning with embarrassment he would feel later when he was more in his right mind.

He pushed his hips up higher in the air and pressed his face into the sheets.

“Fuck me, Roman. Now.”

He craned his neck to just barely see Roman behind him. There were only a couple times that Marcus had been able to stun the man. The look upon his face was delicious. Marcus drank it up. Jaw slack, his eyes glassy with carnal need that rivaled his own.

Roman stripped from the rest of his clothes. He threw them hastily to the ground. Marcus didn’t have the energy to do the same. His mind was on Roman getting inside him and cumming—that was it.

But Roman seemed to be thinking for the two of them at least. He helped Marcus from the rest of his clothes, yanking Marcus’s shoes off without untying them but not caring to take his socks off. One dangled halfway off his foot.

When they were both naked, Marcus resumed his initial position. Roman kneeled behind him, stroking himself. Marcus nudged the bottle of lube in Roman’s direction and he took it.

Marcus was too aware of his own quickened breaths and his racing heart as he heard the cap creak open. It snapped closed and there was a soft thud as it dropped to the mattress.

There was a wet squelch as Roman prepared himself.

Roman pressed the tip of his cock to Marcus’s awaiting hole. He circled the sensitive wrinkled skin. Marcus clenched, chasing the head as if he could put it in himself.

Roman swatted his ass. “Stay still.”

Marcus tried to. He really did. He clenched his whole body to keep from rocking or swiveling his hips. Still, his body trembled as Roman began to press inside him.

Marcus’s pulse migrated to his ass. He felt his heartbeat there, his lower half flushed and hot like he was starting to burn from the inside.

Roman hissed. His thumbs spread Marcus’s cheeks, holding there as he sunk deeper and deeper.

Marcus clenched around the hot length. It surged forward, the lube giving it the glide it needed, but though it was happening at a snail’s pace, he felt like it was too much all at once. He pressed his face into the mattress. He let out a silent scream then clamped his teeth on the fabric so he didn’t actually scream.

Roman stilled though it was obvious it took a lot of effort.

Marcus panted as they held there, waiting for the other to speak. The air was heavy around them. Sweat, lube, and musk. Marcus would commit this smell to memory. It was already imprinting on him.

“Why’d you stop?” He didn’t know how he managed to speak. Though, it was more like a slur of words.

Roman rocked his hips, edging in a little deeper. Marcus couldn’t stop the yelp he let out. He bit his tongue all too late. The copper taste mixed with everything else, creating a sensory overload that fried his brain.

“That’s why. You need to be stretched more,” Roman gritted out. He sounded like he was on the edge.

Hope—a sickening thing to have now—that Roman would lose control was felt in Marcus’s chest. He dashed that stupid thought away. And it was stomped further when Roman actually started to pull out.

“No!”

While Marcus was barely taking the stretch, he couldn’t take the emptiness. He needed this. He needed to feel Roman.

He hooked his legs around Roman’s. In split second thinking—or not thinking—he used all the strength he had left to yank Roman forward. Roman caught himself before he could fall completely on top of Marcus, but he was still caught off guard enough that his grip slipped from Marcus’s hips.

“Motherfu—” Roman’s right arm slammed into the mattress to right himself.

It wasn’t fast enough. The fall had his cock slamming down inside of Marcus. The stretch was too fast. The pain seized Marcus’s body, like a cold hand on his lower spine and pulling as if to yank it out. He clamped his teeth so hard he felt it through his skull.

There was a white hot spike mixed within that pain. A jolt of pleasure that was needles pricking into the soft flesh of his brain. He was shaking uncontrollably, sweat dripping down his temples.

Roman was there, gaping at him. There was a mix of horror and awe. Marcus stared back.

“Are you okay?” Roman whispered. In a tender gesture, he brushed his knuckles against Marcus’s damp temple, brushing aside his bangs that clung to his forehead.

The words were of worry but there was none in Roman’s eyes.

Marcus tried to speak. He had to start over a couple times before he didn’t trip over his own words. “How deep are you?”

Roman reached down to where they were connected. His fingers brushed Marcus’s hole and then himself.

“Only about an inch left.”

Roman’s fingers kept brushing where Marcus was stretched around him. Marcus could feel how tight he was through that touch. He could feel it too. Even with the lube it felt impossible that he wasn’t going to rip. Still, he wasn’t afraid of what might happen. His own stubbornness—or perhaps his unsafe obsession—kept him from fearing the consequences.

“Do it.” Marcus’s voice was steady. “Fuck me.”

Roman didn’t argue this time. Marcus could see it in his eyes. Roman had lost the control he’d been hanging onto. He’d warned Marcus and Marcus hadn’t listened. Or he had listened, but he’d pushed Roman anyway.

Roman rose again. His hands were firm on Marcus’s waist, fingers digging into his sides like hooks. Marcus was breathless as Roman settled into place behind him.

Those fingers hooked into him loosened their grip. They roamed over his back and his chest, caressing him as if to soothe the unease from his body. He loosened some, sinking into the bed as if those hands alone could alleviate the slight pain racketing up his spine.

Roman slowly slid out.

“Haaa!” Marcus clenched his eyes closed. His thighs trembled.

There was silence from Roman. However, Marcus could feel Roman’s hands trembling against his sides. A tiny twitch here and there that let him know he wasn’t the only one quickly falling apart.

Roman pulled all the way out. His cock brushed against Marcus’s cheek, leaving behind a streak of lube.

Marcus’s hole fluttered as it was hit with cool air. It twitched, gaping, wider than it’d ever been.

“Holy shit,” Roman whispered with amazement. “I can see inside you.”

He slid his thumb into the slick channel as if to show Marcus though he didn’t need any proof. He could fucking feel how wide Roman had left him.

“Stop toying with it,” Marcus groaned. He reached behind him, grappling for Roman. He didn’t entirely know what he was trying to do. Push him away? Or draw him closer? His mind was so fuzzy he didn’t know if he was in great pain or if it was just the pleasure was too much for his human body to handle.

Roman chuckled. “Sorry.”

He withdraw his thumb. He leaned down.

“What are you—ah! What the fuck?”

Roman bit Marcus literally on the ass.

The sudden nip yanked Marcus from the fogginess. His mind cleared just enough that he tried to crawl away from Roman.

Roman laughed as he grabbed Marcus and pulled him back toward him. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t resist.”

“You fucking shit! I don’t think I waaaaaaaa?—”

Roman cut Marcus off by slamming right back into him to the hilt. His hips pressed against Marcus’s ass. His hands held Marcus’s wiggling hips so he couldn’t pull away. He gave a little experimental thrust and then ground into him, widening the spasming channel so he was pulled even deeper.

Marcus really couldn’t breathe this time. His mouth gaped as his wide eyes went cross.

Roman pulled out and thrust in a little slower, but all the way in again. He held there, breathing heavy as he too adjusted as much as he could to the sensation of Marcus clamping down on him.

Marcus’s head drooped.

“Hey.” Roman grabbed Marcus by his hair and pulled his head up. “You’re not passing out on me, are you?”

“Nnngh.”

Roman laid over him, blanketing his body with his warmth. Marcus, though sweaty and burning up, like the all consuming feeling.

“Marcus,” Roman said sweetly in his ear. “Are you feeling good?”

Marcus didn’t know how he managed to open his eyes. All he knew was that he was looking at Roman, staring back into his eyes. His face was flushed, cheeks red and his pupils were blown.

Marcus moved closer as much as he could in his position. He craned his neck and offered his parted lips. Roman knew exactly what he wanted. He kissed Marcus tenderly and then deeper until he was fucking Marcus’s mouth as if to prelude what he would be doing to his ass in a couple minutes.

Marcus shook for it. His dick was so hard he thought he might break it. His balls were tight, aching for release.

Roman ended the kiss.

Marcus had a second to prepare before Roman started to thrust again. Roman picked up the pace, his hips smacking into Marcus’s ass, jolting him forward each time.

The bed creaked. The mattress thumped against the wall. The window shook, the glass misting from the rain that had stopped a half hour ago.

Roman fucked Marcus slow and deep, then hard and fast. Marcus grabbed the nearest pillow and pressed his face into it. His toes flexed and his legs thumped as he took everything Roman gave to him.

His moans filled the empty space of the apartment. Roman’s dick was hitting deeper and deeper, reaching a part of him that had been untouched, scratching an itch he didn’t know was there.

Roman paused to readjust. He kept kneeling on one leg and braced with the other one, his foot on the bed. He found Marcus’s prostrate within a second this way.

Marcus seized as if he’d been electrocuted. His dick dripped with precum and he couldn’t hold back the scream. Roman nailed that spot within him over and over.

He was cumming before he could feel it. He was delirious. He didn’t know if he yelled Roman’s name or if it had simply been in his head.

Roman fucked him through it. His thrusts became erratic, a hurried pace that signaled he was going to cum soon. Marcus’s dick kept dripping and made a sad attempt to get hard again, but it had managed to cum untouched and that had taken a lot of energy. Still, it tried.

Roman came with a low groan. The hot seed filled Marcus. With a couple more wet thrusts, Roman settled inside Marcus to bask in the afterglow. A little of the cum escaped, dribbling down Marcus inner thighs, clinging to his sweaty skin before it dropped onto the already damp sheets.

Pleasure shakes went through Marcus every so often. Roman finally pulled out with a wet squelch.

He took his time, petting Marcus’s ass, running his finger over Marcus’s puffy hole.

Marcus whimpered when Roman slipped a finger in.

“Sorry,” Roman said. He moved up the bed and laid down. He helped Marcus roll on his side to cuddle against him.

He kissed Marcus’s temple.

After that, Marcus couldn’t know what happened. He was already asleep.