Page 74 of Break Me Open
I climb onto the bed, kneeling between his thighs, gripping his ankles, pushing them apart and higher. “Are you ready for me, detka?” I ask, using my slicked-up fingers to rub the lube over his hole. He nods frantically as I lean over him and line myself up.
The head of my cock nudges against his entrance, then I push inside slowly, inch by inch, stretching him open, stopping halfway, and letting him adjust. He gasps at the burn, the fullness, and I lock my eyes on his, holding him steady.
“M—more,” he gasps. I rock my hips, pushing in another inch. He whimpers, and I pull back, dragging my cock almost fully out slowly, “Fuck,” he moans.
“Can you take all of me?” I ask, holding back a groan.
“Mmph, yeah. I want all of it. Give it to me,” he demands.
“Good boy,” I growl, snapping my hips forward and bottoming out with a final thrust, slamming inside him.
“Arseny!” he shouts, squeezing his eyes shut, and his breathing hitching as his fingernails dig into my back. I see the moment pain and pleasure combine, and the point where his body softens and accepts me fully. He feels like heat, pressure and something very close to heaven. It feels too good, I’m not going to last long. “Look at me,” I rasp, as I pump inside him slowly at first. His eyes open, locking onto mine, and something slams into me hard.
Mine. Fuck. He’s mine.
I don’t hold anything back, my hips snap forward in brutal, relentless thrusts, and I slam my cock in deep with a feral force.
“Oh God, fuck... Ari.” The second he says my name again, raw and broken, everything else disintegrates. I dig my fingers into his hips and fuck him like I’ve wanted to since the day he shoved me against that tree. Hard. Deep. Nothing careful left.
He takes it. Every thrust. Every sound he makes drags another growl from my throat. He’s trembling, sweating, falling apart under me, and I want to see every second of it.
His hands slide down my back, and he grabs onto my ass, digging his fingers into the cheeks hard, making my balls ache and tearing a “Bozhe—” from my throat.
He cries out, the pleasure and pain tangling into something unbearable. I feel him tighten, his body coils, his breath breaks, and the look on his face nearly rips me open.
I lean over him, slipping my tongue into his mouth, kissing him hard through his moans and pants. He’s so close. I’m so close. I pound into him deeper, harder. My balls slap against his ass as I drive my whole length into him, hitting that sweet spot mercilessly. “Ari, I’m gonna come,” he pants.
“Fuck, let go,” I growl against his mouth. “Come for me.” His ass tightens around me as he does. He comes hard, violently, and it’s fucking beautiful.
I follow him seconds later, burying myself deep inside him with a final sound that doesn’t feel human. I don’t care. All I want is closer, deeper, more. I come so hard spots dance in my vision; my toes go numb, and I’m pretty sure I can taste colours and see sound.
When it’s over, I don’t move. I stay there as his breathing shudders against my neck, pressing my forehead to his shoulder, just for a second.
Instantly, I realise it’s too soft, too revealing. So, I pull back before he can read into it, but the damage is already done.
The room is quiet, but it’s not heavy or tense anymore. It’s the kind of silence that follows something fucking incredible. Caiden is sprawled on his back, his chest still heaving, his hair a wreck, and his lips are still swollen. He looks ruined, and that’s the kind of sight that hits me straight in the ego in all the right ways.
I pull out, sitting back on my heels, wiping sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. My pulse is still hammering, and my body is still wired. His voice comes out rough. “Holy fuck, Ari.”
I smirk. “Mm. I know.”
He lets out a breathless little disbelieving laugh. “That was... Jesus. Just give me a second. I think I just died and my soul left my body.”
I tilt my head, watching him like prey that hasn’t realised the predator isn’t done. “A second?” I ask. “Why?”
He blinks at me, exhausted and confused. “Because you just— I mean—”
I crawl up the bed, slowly, planting one hand beside his head. His breath hitches instantly, like his body recognises thethreat before his brain catches up. “Detka. Did you think we were finished?”
His eyes widen instantly. “Ari, my legs don’t even—” I steal his oxygen with a kiss. It’s deep, filthy, and I smirk against his mouth when he makes that helpless, breathless sound. One of his hands fists weakly in my hair, the other skims down my back, then lower, grabbing onto my ass again. When I pull away, he’s practically panting. “Again?” I murmur.
“I’m not saying no. I’m saying my legs don’t work.”
“Good.” I grab his knee and nudge it up, wrapping his leg around my waist. “Then you can’t run away.”
That earns me a hoarse laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you,” I say, kissing along his jaw, “are still hard.” He chuckles as his cock twitches against his cum-splattered stomach, leaking, eager despite everything he claimed about dying moments ago. I drag my finger through the mess he made, slow and smug. Then I slip it into my mouth and suck my finger clean. “Your body wants me more than your brain can process.”
