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The choke hold Patrick had on him now was a thousand times more dangerous. This was a blood choke. If Patrick flexed his muscles right, Fal’ran’s body would be in the throes of death instead of pleasure. The sheer trust made Patrick giddy, and he rocked his cock into the cleft of Fal’ran’s ass.
“I want everyone to see it and know you’re fucking spoken for.” Fal’ran sank his teeth into the tendon of Patrick’s neck and sucked hard, sending a shock of pain through Patrick’s body.
“Oh god, Fal’ran.” Patrick thrust his hips against the younger man as the pain seared into pleasure. “Goddamn you.”
“They’ll see it and they’ll smell me on you.” Fal’ran inhaled and moaned. “And smell you on me. Fuck, the way you smell, Patrick…” Fal’ran trailed off in another groan and Patrick’s heart screwed up into his throat.
He almost asked what Fal’ran smelled, what filled his nose when he buried it against Patrick’s pulse point, what Patrick was to him. Fear held him back at the last moment. It was too intimate, too meaningful. It teased too close to something Patrick wanted but couldn’t have.
He tightened his arm around Fal’ran’s throat to the edge of dangerous, squeezed his cock harder, and dropped his mouth to Fal’ran’s ear. “They won’t be able to smell anything over the scent of your cum when I cover you with it.”
Fal’ran whimpered and struggled, forcing Patrick to use all his strength to hold him still as he worked his cock. It was dry, too dry, but Patrick couldn’t stop now and Fal’ran’s increasing pants told him it didn’t matter.
Oh god, he was going to do it again. He was going to make Fal’ran come.
He couldn’t look away from Fal’ran’s flushed head, appearing and disappearing through Patrick’s rough fist. Precum leaked over his belly and shirt. His hips flexed. His balls pulsed and throbbed. The man was beautiful, raw, and obscene. Shameless and beautiful. And Patrick’s.
“Fal’ran.” Patrick’s voice broke as he kissed Fal’ran’s hair with gentle lips, a world away from the roughness of the act. With a guttural cry, Fal’ran pulled taut in his arms.
Cum shot from the tip of Fal’ran’s cock as his hips strained against Patrick’s hold, painting across the fabric of the tank stretched over his chest. Patrick stroked him through it, smearing the hot spend over his length, and committing every moment to memory. Fal’ran’s cock spurted again and again in his hand, and his muscular body trembled.
“That’s right, Fal’ran, give me all of it, give me everything.” Patrick stroked him until he whined, then took mercy on him and locked his hand around his hip bone instead. He pumped himself against Fal’ran’s body, his heart racing and his breath shaking with his own need.
His whole body would combust at any moment. His cock ached even more than the night they first did this. Before, he’d been so shocked and confused he hadn’t known what was happening until Fal’ran had his mouth on him.
Oh god, that’s what he wanted. He wanted the wet heat of Fal’ran’s mouth again. He dug his nails into the skin over Fal’ran’s hip bones, rocking desperately against him as he begged into his ear. “Fal’ran, will you—”
“Fuck, yes, let me have you.” Fal’ran ripped Patrick’s arm off his throat and Patrick let him, grabbing at Fal’ran’s body in his haste to turn him around.
Gone were all thoughts that they were in public, or that Patrick was a stepping stone, or a surrogate father. Gone was everything other than the desperate need for Fal’ran to touch him. Nothing in the world would stop Patrick from getting Fal’ran’s mouth on his cock again.
But Fal’ran’s face crumpled as he pivoted, and he clutched at his thigh. Patrick realized something would stop him.
“Stop.” He put both hands on Fal’ran’s shoulders and held him. “You’re exhausted.”
“Fuck that. My legs are tired, not my throat.” Fal’ran’s furious eyes and Patrick’s heavy balls almost convinced Patrick. Then Fal’ran’s thigh spasmed again.
“No, you’ve pushed yourself enough today.” Patrick planted one hand in the center of Fal’ran’s chest and dragged himself back with the other. “I’m fine.”
“Well, I’m not.” Fal’ran bared his teeth. “Why do you do this? Why can’t you just let us enjoy this?”
“I am letting us enjoy this,” Patrick gaped at him. “I just…” His predictable blush burned up his throat as he waved at Fal’ran’s open pants and his softening but still gorgeous cock. “…enjoyed…plenty for us.”
His mortification softened Fal’ran, and the younger man stopped pressing against Patrick’s palm. He raised an eyebrow and quirked that devastating smirk at him. “What? All out of words now?”
Patrick blushed harder at the reminder of his alter ego that came out when he got his hands on Fal’ran’s cock. “I’m not trying to reject you, but you’re cramping up and it’s hurting you. I can see it.”
“I hurt you, too, when I put that mark on your throat, and you didn’t stop us then.” Fal’ran’s eyes flicked down to somewhere above Patrick’s collarbones.
Patrick clapped his hand over where he felt a bruise forming. It was low enough for his uniform jacket to cover. Barely. “That’s different.”
Fal’ran scoffed. “I’d call bullshit, but…” He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think I can move my legs.”
“See, I told you.” Patrick pulled Fal’ran’s underwear and pants over his hips, blushing when Fal’ran’s soft cock twitched in his hand as he tucked it away. “The lactic acid has been building up as we sat here.”
“Well, we weren’t exactly just sitting here.” Fal’ran took over fastening his pants. “I don’t think I’ve ever been with a man that made sex such a workout.”
Patrick hid his face and tugged on the hem of Fal’ran’s cum covered shirt to coax it off his head. Was he doing it wrong? Should he be less physical? Less rough? God, he was treating intimacy like a training session, wasn’t he? Trying to push himself and push the limits… But it felt good, natural, exhilarating.
