Page 186 of Discordant Cultivation

Don’t think, sweetheart. Just be mine.

Kieran’s resistance crumbled as the words wrapped around his consciousness like silk restraints.

59

I'm a heretic in my own cathedral, but maybe heresy's the way ….

Vale

There was a snap inside of him—a restraint he hadn’t known he was holding, a leash he’d kept on himself for months of careful cultivation, now fraying and breaking under the weight of raw, unfiltered need. Kieran’s mouth was copper and salt, tear-streaked and trembling. Vale devoured it, his tongue plunging deep, claiming every inch of that warm, yielding cavern as if he could erase the horror of the night with sheer force of possession.

Mine. You killed for me. You’re mine. Forever now.

His hands were everywhere—tangling in Kieran’s sweat-damp hair, wrapping around his throat to feel the frantic pulse hammering there, then clawing at the blood-soaked shirt. He tore it over Kieran’s head without any finesse, the rip of seams loud in the quiet room, desperate to feel skin, to confirm that Kieran was real and alive andhis. Alex’s body was still warm in the chair beside them, blood dripping steadily onto the concrete in thick, sluggish plops, the metallic scent hung heavy in the air like a fog. But Vale couldn’t bring himself to care—Alex wasnothing now, just cooling meat, irrelevant in the face of his hunger.

“V-Vale, wait—” Kieran gasped between kisses, his voice muffled against Vale’s insistent mouth, his hands pushing weakly at Vale’s chest. “We should—the b-bodies— they’re right here, I can’t—”

“Don’t care.” Vale bore him down onto the cold concrete and covered Kieran’s body with his own, grinding his cock against Kieran’s thigh through their clothes. All Vale could focus on was the heat of Kieran’s body beneath him, the way his chest heaved with panicked breaths. “I don’t care about them. I only care about you. You’re the only thing that’s real.”

“But they’re r-right there, they’re—” Kieran’s protest dissolved into a whimper as Vale’s teeth sank into his lower lip, tugging hard enough to draw a fresh bead of blood. His eyes darted wildly to Alex’s slumped form, barely a foot away. “Vale, p-please, stop—”

Vale kissed him harder, swallowing the words, swallowing the protests, his tongue thrusting in rhythm with his grinding hips, forcing Kieran to taste his desperation. He shoved Kieran’s pants and underwear down his thighs in one rough motion, exposing him completely, the cool air hitting Kieran’s half-hard cock and making it twitch despite the horror etched on his face.

“Vale, p-please—” Kieran’s voice cracked, rising in pitch, his legs kicking futilely as he tried to twist away, hands scrambling to push at Vale’s shoulders, nails digging into fabric. “S-stop, please, not here, not now—”

“It’s not like they’re watching.” Vale grabbed Kieran’s jaw with bruising force, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, forcing his gaze away from the corpses so he could lock those wide, terrified eyes onto his own. “They’re dead. They can’t see anything. They can’t take you away from me anymore. They’renothing—just stains on the floor.”

He flipped Kieran onto his stomach with a grunt, pressing his chest flat against the cold, blood-smeared concrete. The sound Kieran made—half sob, half moan, raw and broken—sent electricity shooting down Vale’s spine, straight to his throbbing cock. His own hands shook as he fumbled with his zipper, freeing himself from his pants, the thick length springing free, hot and heavy, already leaking precum that dripped onto Kieran’s ass. He spat into his palm, slicking himself roughly—nothing but spit and desperation for lube—before pressing the blunt head against Kieran’s entrance, feeling the tight ring of muscle tighten in resistance.

“Don’t—” Kieran’s fingers scrabbled against the floor, nails scraping uselessly on concrete, his body tensing, trying to crawl forward, away from the intrusion. “S-stop—”

“I can’t.” The words tore out of Vale like a confession, guttural and desperate, as he gripped Kieran’s hips and thrust forward, breaching him in one unforgiving push. The dry friction burned, Kieran’s body resisted, but Vale forced his way in, inch by searing inch, until he was buried to the hilt in that tight, clenching heat. Kieran let out a sharp, agonized wail, tears streaming down his face to mix with the blood on the floor. “I can’t wait. I need—Kieran, I need—fuck, just hold still.”

Vale’s hips thrust forward again and again in a punishing rhythm that slammed Kieran into the concrete, the slap of skin on skin mingling with the wet, obscene sounds of their joining and Kieran’s choked sobs. One hand fisted in Kieran’s hair, yanking his head back to arch his neck, exposing the vulnerable column of his throat, while the other gripped his hip hard enough to leave more fingertip-shaped bruises, pulling him back onto every brutal plunge.

“Mine,” Vale growled against the back of Kieran’s neck, teeth sinking into the salty skin, biting down hard enough to mark as he pounded deeper, feeling Kieran’s body yield unwillingly, theresistance only heightening his arousal. “You’re mine, say it, say it— tell me you’re mine, that you chose me, that you’d kill for me again—”

“Y-Yours—” Kieran sobbed, his voice breaking on every word, body jolting with each thrust, his cock trapped painfully against the rough floor, grinding with unwilling friction. “It—it hurts—”

“I know.” Vale didn’t slow down. He couldn’t slow down. His pace only intensified, hips pistoning with feral urgency, the heat building in his core like a storm. “I know it hurts, sweetheart. Let it hurt. Let me have this.” He licked a stripe up Kieran’s neck, tasting sweat and fear, then bit down again, sucking a dark hickey into the flesh as he ground deeper, feeling Kieran’s hole flutter and constrict around him.

Kieran’s face was turned to the side, pressed against the bloodied concrete, and Vale could see his eyes—wet and wide and fixed on Alex. On the blood still dripping from his ruined throat, the steadydrip-dripa macabre underscore to their coupling.

“Don’t look at him.” Vale’s hand tightened in Kieran’s hair, wrenching his head forward with a sharp yank, forcing his face down into the sticky pool. “Eyes closed. Don’t look at anything. Don’t think about them—think about me.”

“I c-can’t stop—every time I close my eyes I see—pl-please, I can’t breathe, I can’t—”

“Then keep them open and look at nothing.” Vale fucked into him harder, more erratic, his balls slapping against Kieran’s ass. “There’s nothing in this room but us. Nothing that matters. Just you and me and this—your tight little hole taking every inch of me.” His free hand slid under Kieran’s body, wrapping around his throat from behind.

He was losing himself—could feel it happening, the careful control he prided himself on dissolving as sweat dripped down his back and his muscles burned. This wasn’t how he operated.He was supposed to be measured, intentional, every touch calculated and thorough. But Kieran had killed for him tonight, had chosen him over freedom, had proven himself in blood, and Vale couldn’t—wouldn’t—hold back.

Kieran protested louder now, his voice a litany of pleas as his body writhed beneath Vale’s weight, legs kicking weakly, but his hips betrayed him, pushing back just enough to meet the thrusts, his cock fully hard now, leaking onto the floor. The protests only fueled Vale, each sob like a spark to dry tinder.

Finally, Vale came with a groan that didn’t sound like himself—guttural and broken—spilling inside Kieran in hot, pulsing waves, as ecstasy ripped through him. His hips stuttered through the aftershocks, grinding deep one last time, his forehead dropping to rest between Kieran’s shoulder blades, slick with sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he panted when he could speak again, chest heaving, still buried inside that abused heat. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t—I needed— God, Kieran, you drive me insane.”

Kieran was crying. Vale could feel the sobs shaking through him, could hear the wet gasps, the hitch of breath that spoke of pain and overwhelm.