Using my fork, I push the last of my vegetables around in a circle on my plate. I hold my head in my opposite hand as I watch the carrot glide around the edge, leaving a wet streak behind it. I sigh heavily and look up at Brennan across from me. He’s got reading glasses on as he scans through charts and miscellaneous papers that are spread over the tabletop. He's not eating dinner or anything; he is just sitting here with me and his work. I guess I’m grateful that he didn’t just leave me to eat alone, but still, he could talk to me. I don’t even know what he’s working on.
“I thought your medical license was revoked,” I comment, trying to make conversation or anything to keep me eating bullets out of boredom.
He inhales, not looking up from the manilla folders. “It was.”
I crinkle my nose in confusion. “Then what are those files for?”
I scrunch my face up in confusion but then dismiss it altogether. He’s such an enigma; I’m really done with trying to figure what the hell goes through his head.
He picks up another folder and compares the two, and I groan in irritation. “Are you going to talk to me?”
Then he looks up as if I’ve asked him to do some huge inconvenience, fluttering his eyelids like ‘Did you really just ask me that?’, and I really can’t believe him. You would think I would start to expect it, but I really am an idiot sometimes.
“Of course not. That would just be the end of the world, wouldn’t it?” I scoff, standing from my seat and taking my plate with me. I place it in the sink as I pass and head upstairs, slightly pissed off.
Stupid Das, always being right. He’s an ass, and I still came back. I’m mentally ill. I seriously think I am.
I storm up the stairs and make my way into the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I take a moment to pace back and forth, raking my hand through my hair a couple of times before heading into the bathroom. I lean over the counter and examine my face in the mirror.
I look tired. Understandable, seeing as how I’ve had to put up with so much bullshit over the last couple of days, but I just seem duller. I seem too human. It's like I’ve gotten used to going through the motions. I’m not supposed to “go through the motions”. I’m an incubus for demons’ sake.
I’m too ashamed to look at myself any longer, so I let my head drop into my hands. What am I even doing here? And why do I keep asking myself that? I need to stop. It’s getting unhealthy. Actually, I’m pretty sure this was unhealthy from the moment I ran after Brennan.
Speaking of which, I hear the door of his bedroom open, and I can feel Brennan make his way toward me. I look up from my hands to see him standing behind me in the mirror. I scowl at him, and he just tilts his head to the side, his long hair falling to the side and looking unbelievably gorgeous.
He clicks his tongue like he’s about to say something, and he pulls the thin rectangular glasses from his face and places them on the counter next to me. I eye them from the corner of my vision, and I have the strong urge to knock them off the counter like some anarchist housecat. Then I feel Brennan’s hands graze over my hips, and my attention is immediately drawn back to the mirror to make eye contact with him. I can’t help the way shivers spread over my entire body at just his slight touch.
“You know,” he says, looking down at my body and licking his lips, “I wasn’t trying to ignore you.”
His hands glide up and settle on my waist, and he leans down, placing a kiss on my neck. I bite down on my lip and lay my forehead down on the counter as his mouth travels further down my back. He pushes his hips into my ass, so I can feel the bulge in his pants. My knees go weak at the thought, and my stomach twists.
“I just needed to finish up some work before tomorrow,” he continues as he starts to move his hand in a circle over my lower back, making other parts of my body start begging for a little more attention. And he knows that.
His hand dips around my hip and slips under my waistband, brushing his fingertips against my now raging erection. I gasp, and my head shoots up to look in the mirror, only to find Brennan already staring at me with a lascivious half-smile. Immediately, the blood rushes to fill my cheeks.
“S-stop,” I shudder, my back arching as he moves his hand to cup me.
“Why?” he purrs into my ear in a deep alluring voice, his soft brown eyes swirling with lust.
“You don’t even know my name,” I growl, not bothering to restrain myself as I buck my hips into his hand.
“What do I get if I do know it?”
“You know what you get.”
He chuckles. “Oh, I get that anyway. What else can I have?”
I sneer at him in the reflection of the mirror. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t know it. You never bothered to let me finish introducing myself.”
He nibbles at my ear gently, and I let out a shaky squeak. His breath washes hot against the side of my face as he speaks, “That’s because, Akuji, I already knew your name, thanks to your little friend shouting it down the street for half the world to hear. Obviously, since everyone already knows it, it’s not that special, so don’t be so offended when I don’t use it, princess. Now, where’s my prize?”
He’s such a piece of shit! Fuck, why do I have to want him so fucking bad? I hate him; I hate him; I hate him. I hate all of him.
All of him including the part that I need.
He unexpectedly jerks his hips into mine, and I push myself back into him with a moan, grinding back against him. Then he suddenly pulls his hand out from inside my pants, and I whine like a bitch in the heat. I hear him give me a husky laugh as he starts to unbutton my pants.
“Patience is a virtue, boy. Don’t be so desperate,” he scolds me.
“Yes, sir,” I respond automatically, and I can practically feel the waves of approval radiating off of him.
He grabs the waistband of my jeans and rips them down my legs, bringing his hand back up to slap my thigh then squeeze it. I lean my weight onto the counter and kick my pants away, and he hikes my right leg up onto the counter. I watch him undo his jeans from the mirror, and he catches me staring. He passes me a quick simper before taking out his length. My muscles clench at the sight of his massive dick, but holy fuck, I’m practically drooling right now.
I want him; I need him.
My body naturally relaxes as I prepare to be penetrated, and I let myself lay on top of the counter, the cold granite seeping through my skin and giving me goosebumps. I close my eyes as Brennan brings his hand up my spine, pressing me further into the surface. My shoulder blades flex back as he closes his hand around the back of my neck. He moves his thumb around in slight circles as he pushes his cock against my backside, barely inserting his tip and teasing me. Then he slides his fingertips down to my hips again.
“You’re such a good boy,” he whispers. “You’re all ready and waiting for me. What would happen if I told you ‘no’?”
I just whimper in response, clenching my fists against the counter and squeezing my eyes tight. I try to push myself back onto his dick, but he pulls his hips away with a ‘tsk tsk’.
“Are you going to beg me?”
I don’t beg. I deserve it. I don’t beg. I’m an incubus. He’s some mortal. I don’t beg anyone for anything. I don’t—
“Please,” I moan, my body crying out for any kind of pleasure.
“Oh, you’re going to have to give me a little more than that,” he says coolly as if he’s not struggling to remain only an inch deep in my ass. (Oh, my god, what if he’s not struggling? What if he really does have more self-control than me?)
“Brennan, please just fuck me,” I whine looking up at him through the mirror. He’s gritting his teeth together, and his knuckles have gone white from how tight his grip is on my hips, which basically answers my previous question and makes me feel a bit better about myself. I try to push my ass back again, but Brennan brings his hand up and spanks me hard. I squeal as the stinging pain spreads over my skin, and my head drops back down to the counter.
“Don’t be a whore,” he snaps at me as he begins to slowly rub his hand soothingly around where he hit me. “But if you keep insisting.”
He suddenly thrusts his entire length deep inside me, and I scream out and am left gasping as the pain sucks all the air from my lungs. My hands search for anything to hold onto, scratching against the stone counter pointlessly. He’s so warm, and he just fills me completely, clouding my mind with thick, pleasurable (so pleasurable) fog.
I feel Brennan’s lips touch down on my skin, and my cock jumps at the sensation. I feel him pull out and push back inside of me, slower this time. I start to let out a noise, but Brennan's hand comes up and covers my mouth and nose.
“Shhh,” he shushes me gently. “I’ve got a headache, so be a bit quieter for me, alright?”
I nod, and he removes his hand from my face, bringing it back to my hips and using his grip as leverage to buck into me again. I bite down on my fist and choke on a rising whine.
“Good boy,” he praises me as he starts slipping in and out of me. Immediately my knees go weak, and I have to lean all my weight onto my forearms to keep myself from slipping off the edge of the counter. He just pounds into me again and again and again, hitting my prostate every single time. It’s so hard to keep from crying out, but strangled squeaks keep breaking through my breathy pants.
Then I feel his hand leave my side and grip onto the back of my head by my hair. He rips my head up from the counter and forces me to look in the mirror. Spittle drips from the side of my mouth, my cheeks are flush with embarrassment, and I can only open my eyes halfway through Brennan dicking me down.
“Keep looking at yourself, princess. See what I do to you?” he groans, yanking on my hair. I can't stop the moan that escapes, and upon hearing it, he spanks me again, only causing me to cry out louder. I hear Brennan growl before thrusting into me harder, pulling my hair back violently with each movement.
Every breath that passes out of my lungs comes out as some sort of choked noise that’s a mix between a moan and a scream. Sometimes even his name spills past my lips, and every time my cries get a bit too loud for him, Brennan spanks me again. I’m sure my backside is a cherry red by now, but he has no mercy, and it feels so good. So fucking good.
My eyes drift close for a second, and Brennan hits me again as a warning.
“Eyes open, baby boy. Look at yourself and nothing else. Don’t look at me, don’t look at the counter, and definitely don’t close those pretty eyes of yours. Look at yourself. Look at how much of a little whore you are, all messed up for me.”
Numbing pleasure is all I can feel. His words, deep and husky, resonate through me, and his dick pushing in and out of me makes my muscles ache and my legs shake. His hands are so delicately placed on my body, gripping me and surely leaving dark blue and black marks behind. The way he’s pulling my hair, forcing me to look at myself getting absolutely wrecked by his massive size, is just perfect, and then there’s him.
The beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face. His tanned, caramel skin peeks out from under his shirt which is slowly sliding up his stomach and revealing the trail of hair dipping down his v-line. His thick dark locks sweep past his eyes and fall into his face, moving back and forth with his jerking motions. And his eyes, so beautiful and deep, suddenly look up to meet mine, and I gasp. I turn my gaze back to my lewd face, but he’s already caught me.
He brings his palm down onto my skin, and I yelp for theatrics, though my nerves have long gone numb. Then I see his smile from the corner of my eye.
“Like what you see?” he asks through strained panting.
I give him another moan as an answer, and he quickens his rhythmic thrusting. I feel his hand not holding my hair creep around my waist to grab my dick. My body instinctually curves forward to meet his hand, but he gives my hair a yank as a message for me to correct myself. He lightly brushes his fingertips across my shaft, and I have to do so much to keep myself from pushing my hips away from his cock and into his palm again.
If he could just touch me already, that would be fucking amazing!
And then he does, and my vision seems to go white for a second. His hand pumps my member, fast and in time with his thrusts. I feel my stomach twist up, and I stutter out, “I’m gonna cum.”
“No, you’re not,” he denies me casually as if he can just stop it by wishing so. (Actually, he can, so maybe that’s not so crazy.)
“Fuck, please!” I beg him, but he just keeps jacking me off and doesn’t say a word to acknowledge my plea.
It’s too much for me, and I can’t stop it as white ribbons coat my stomach and his hand. Brennan swears and starts ramming into me faster and sloppier, still not letting go of my hair or my dick. As I start to come down from my high, his thrusts slowly grow more painful and uncomfortable, but right as I open my mouth to ask him to stop, he thrusts deep inside me one final time before filling my intestines with his warm sperm.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his grip finally relaxing from its hold on my head as he pulls out slowly. He steps away from me, and my legs give out from under me. I grab onto the counter to keep myself up at the same time Brennan catches onto my hips to steady me.
“I’m going to go shower. Join me?” he offers, rubbing his hand softly over the sore area where he kept spanking me.
I shake my head and sigh heavily before laying my cheek down on my arm. I see him nod from my peripheral vision as he drops his hands from my body. He turns around and strips down his clothing. Then, he takes one last glance toward me before steps into the shower, closing the magnetic lock door behind him.
I hear the water start to run, and I look back to my reflection in the mirror.
Oh, my life is a mess.