Page 77 of Regal Feather
I twisted his nipples between my fingers and yanked. Hard.
He choked on thin air.
I tried to focus on the way it felt for me, like Tony had said.
I couldn’t, not when he was reacting like this. When he took all my focus.
So I just kept going. Fuck thinking. Fuck everything that wasn’t sinking into his body and pulling more sounds out of him.
“Please, fuck, I…”
“Shut up,” I grunted. I bit on his shoulder. Dragged my nails down his ribcage all the way to his caged cock. His clit. “Beg me for it, slut.”
“For what?”
“Beg me,” I repeated. I wasn’t in full control of what I was saying, or doing, or the logic behind the words. I didn’t know if it mattered or not. “Beg me to hurt those useless balls. To make you cry.”
Ever’s breath was chopped, hitched. I waited him out, curling fingers around his skin, my pinkies toying with the hem of those stupidly delicate-looking tights. It was all good. I knew he wanted it. I just needed him to succumb. To me. To this.
To us.
“Make me hurt. Please, please, I need, it’s so fucking sensitive, I can’t?—”
I didn’t squeeze like Tony had suggested.
I slammed my hand down against it, the sound reverberating across the room just as hard as Ever’s scream.
Fuck.
That scream.
It held nothing against all the other noises I’d pulled out of him.
It sneaked into my system and lodged itself in my chest. It made me… I felt stronger. Confident. Capable. I felt so fucking much of all the things I’d been struggling with. Running away from.
I couldn’t describe it. Saying it was a high was surely not the right thing.
Still.
“Do you want me to slap your balls, Ever?” I asked. “You want to scream and cry for me like the slut you are?”
He was so beautiful. So fucking beautiful, and it was taking everything to stay still inside him. To wait him out. To not overdo it and end up coming all over him. It didn’t feel right, coming before I wrecked him the way he wanted to be wrecked.
“Yes.” The consent was sobbed against the crook of my neck, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch me. To curl his fingers around my thighs. “Please, you just… Do your worst. Please.”
So I did.
I hit him again and again. At one point, I had to use one hand to keep both of his behind his back, trapped between our bodies, while I continued to go down on him. While he cried and babbled his thanks and asked for more for reasons I couldn’t wrap my head around.
It didn’t matter.
Not right now.
Right now was all about this newfound power, this newfound confidence boost, this laser focus that had everything else not just quieting, but downright disappearing.
I came in the middle of all that. In the middle of slapping and squeezing and punching his balls while he rocked his hips and circled and moved way too much. Whether he was trying to move away or into the assault, I couldn’t quite tell. I didn’t think he could, either. He kept begging, though. Kept screaming and thanking me.
His skin was flushed red all over.
