Page 23 of His to Ruin

“Relax. You want this, remember?” My breath ghosts hot over his exposed hole and I see the tiny spasm rippling through the ring of muscle.

“Oh g-god,” he whimpers, twisting his head to the side, squeezing his eyes shut as if in prayer.

I chuckle darkly. “God’s not the one listening, Christian.” I push his thighs even closer to his chest. “Look at me.”

It takes him a moment, but he forces his eyes open and back down to meet mine. They’re glassy with tears he’s trying desperately not to shed. I flash him a wicked grin then dip my head between his legs.

My tongue is not human—it’s longer, split, and more textured. I drag it in a slow, broad stripe from his perineum up over this hole, tasting the thin sheen of sweat and feeling the quiver from the muscle beneath. A shocked cry flies from his lips as his back arches off the couch.

“F-fuck!” The curse tears out of him ragged, like it was punched from his lungs. His reaction draws a pleased growl from me, and the sound reverberates against the sensitive flesh I’m teasing. I lap at him again, slowing this time, letting the forked tip of my tongue flick teasingly at the tight little aperture. The taste of his fear and need is intoxicating.

When I glance up, I see that one of his hands has flown to his mouth to stifle his moans. To cut off the noises I earned.

I’ll have none of that.

Letting go of one thigh, I reach up and gently tug his hand away from his mouth. “Let me hear you,” I command. “Every cry, every moan. You don’t hide from me.” To punctuate, I seal my lips around his hole and suck as I spear my tongue into him as deep as it will go.

Christian’s head presses back into the cushions, eyes rolling behind fluttering lids. I ravage him with my mouth, alternating between thrusting my tongue inside that tight heat and circling the rim, loosening him with wet attention. Each form I prod a little deeper; his body tenses then melts, gradually yielding to the slick invasion.

Between my lips and the iron grip I maintain on his thigh, he isn’t going anywhere. All he can do is take it. And judging by the increasingly wanton sounds spilling from him, he’s doing just that. The air is thick with the scent of sex, and I can feel him dripping onto his own belly, smearing precum across his skin with each subtle shift of his hips.

I growl in approval, pulling back just enough to speak. “You taste even better than I remember,” I murmur against him, my breath scorching on his sensitive flesh. Christian answers with a broken moan, his hips thrusting up, trying to follow my mouth. The unconscious desperation in the gesture sends a thrill through me. “That’s it. Didn’t I tell you? You always call me back. This”—I drag my tongue lazily around his opening—"is why.”

His body knows its truth even if his mind refuses to accept it.

I decide he’s wet and relaxed enough for the next step. My jaw aches pleasantly from the effort of devouring him, and Iwithdraw my tongue with one last parting lick. Christian whimpers at the loss, the sweet sound shooting straight to my cock.

“Shh,” I soothe, though a smug smile curls my lips. “I know, baby, I know. You want more.” I run a hand soothingly along his inner thigh, which quivers under my palm. “I promised to fuck you, and I will. But you need to be ready for me.” I raise the hand that isn’t holding him and curl my fingers, letting my sharpened nails vanish away—gone for now, replaced by smooth flesh. Wouldn’t want to accidentally cut him up inside; he’s far too fragile for that.

Christian’s head lifts weakly, and he looks down his body, trying to see what I’m doing. I catch his gaze flick to my face, then to my hand as I press a single finger against his spit-slicked entrance. His lips part in a silent gasp as I slowly push into the first knuckle.

“Relax,” I repeat. “You can take it.” My finger sinks deeper, the tight heat of him clenching instinctively. His body resists for a heartbeat, then yields, the first ring of muscle giving way to allow me inside.

I curl my finger inside him, stroking along his inner walls until I find the spot that makes him see stars. I know I’ve hit it when he cries out, his entire body jolting. “Oh—!” His exclamation cuts off, replaced by a shuddering moan as I rub that spot mercilessly. His cock twitches against his belly, an eager spurt of precum leaking out in response.

I chuckle. “Good boy. Does that feel good?”

He nods frantically as a tear finally spills loose and trails down his temple at the overwhelming sensation.

I lean over and lick the tear away, tasting his salt and despair and bliss all at once. His cheek is burning hot against my tongue.

“It feels so good, doesn’t it?” I coo, gently pumping my finger in and out, working him open. “You’re being so good for me, Christian. Taking what I give you.” He lets out a garbled sob of pleasure, hips rocking unconsciously now, trying to get that finger even deeper. The raw need in his movements makes my own cock throb impatiently, but I ignore my own urges a little longer. I want him beyond just pliant … I want him wrecked and pliant.

“More...” The word slips from his lips.

“More?” I echo. “Such a greedy little thing.” Still, I oblige. A second finger joins the first, pushing past the tight ring with only a slight resistance. This time, Christian does wince. His breath sucks in sharply between his teeth. I pause, buried two fingers deep, feeling him flutter and tense around me. “Easy ... that’s it,” I murmur, circling my thumb soothingly on the inside of his thigh. “You can take it. You were made to take this.”

He exhales shakily and I feel the clench of his body loosen by degrees. Inch by inch, I begin to scissor my fingers inside him, stretching, preparing. His face is turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut again as he concentrates on accommodating the burn. I can see his pulse thrumming wildly at his throat.

To reward his effort, I angle my hand and crook my fingers forward, pressing against his prostate once more. His eyes fly open, a shocked cry spilling forth as pleasure overwhelms the discomfort. His hips jerk, impaling himself further on my hand without meaning to. I growl in approval, holding his legs wider as I start to thrust my fingers in a steady rhythm.

In and out. Stretching him open. The wet sounds of my fingers working his tight heat echo filthily in the still air.

Christian is practically delirious now. I drink in every whimper and gasp that falls from his lips. So beautiful. So completely at my mercy.

It’s not enough. I want him completely ready for me.

Withdrawing my fingers nearly all the way, I spit directly onto his exposed hole, adding to the slickness. Christian sobs at the sensation, the hot dribble of saliva making him twitch. I push my two fingers back in easily now, the glide smoother. Then I add a third.