Chapter 121: A little too much

Chapter 121: Chapter 121: A little too much

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Please, Nero."

The smugness drained out of Nero’s face, and what replaced it was hunger so naked it made Sebastian’s stomach drop.

Nero guided himself in.

The head of his cock pressed against Sebastian’s entrance, broad and blunt and too large to believe, and Sebastian felt the first give of muscle, the initial burning stretch, and his spine arched off the glass involuntarily. Nero’s name came out of him in pieces.

"Breathe," Nero said.

"I am—"

"You’re not."

Sebastian glared, but dragged air in through his nose.

Nero held himself perfectly still at the very edge of entry, waiting, the sweat already beading along his collarbones, and Sebastian could feel the tremor running through those enormous arms as he fought his own body’s eagerness.

Then Sebastian relaxed, and Nero pushed.

He went in slowly. Not carefully, he was too big for careful to mean anything, but steadily, a fraction of a centimeter at a time, letting Sebastian’s body take him and re-take him, the slick easing each new inch as it came. Sebastian felt every single one more intense than he did the other night. The rim of him stretched tight and hot around the shaft, fluttering, gripping, failing to grip, and Nero kept going.

Halfway, Sebastian’s breath came in shallow bursts.

"You’re doing well," Nero murmured.

Sebastian wanted to hate him for his words, and couldn’t, because Nero said it like it was true, said it against his temple with his mouth pressed to Sebastian’s hair, and it landed somewhere more intimate than Sebastian was prepared for.

Deeper.

Sebastian felt the shaft drag along his inner walls, the vein on the underside pressing against a spot that made his knees, if they’d been anywhere near the ground, go weak. His cock jumped untouched against his own belly, leaving a wet smear.

Nero bottomed out.

For a moment neither of them moved.

Nero was fully sheathed in him, hip to hip, his balls pressed flat against the curve of Sebastian’s ass, and Sebastian could feel him inside like a second heartbeat—impossibly deep, impossibly full, so thick his own abdominal muscles felt stretched taut around the shape of it.

Nero exhaled.

"Fuck," he said softly, and Sebastian almost laughed, because he was the one impaled.

Nero pulled back.

Sebastian felt the drag of every ridge and vein on the way out, his inner walls clinging, the slick turning the withdrawal into a long wet slide, and when only the head remained inside him, Nero stopped and looked Sebastian directly in the eyes.

"Look at me while I take you."

Sebastian looked.

Nero drove back in.

The first thrust was deep and slow, and it punched the air from Sebastian’s lungs. The second was harder. The third made the window rattle behind his shoulders. And then there was no more counting, no more thinking, only Nero moving inside him with a rhythm that had no mercy in it, each stroke dragging pleasure out of Sebastian’s body that he couldn’t stop and couldn’t hide, the wet sound of their joining turning obscene in the quiet room.

His cock bounced against his own stomach with each thrust. His nipples dragged against Nero’s chest. His hands gripped Nero’s shoulders hard enough to bruise, and Nero’s grip on his thighs tightened in answer.

Sebastian could feel the slick running down the inside of his thighs now, pooling in the crease where his legs met his ass, and Nero’s balls slapping against it wetly on every push, and the heat of it all climbing steadily up his spine toward something he couldn’t hold back much longer.

Nero’s hips snapped harder.

The window creaked.

"Sebastian," Nero said, low, wrecked.

"I know."

Nero’s knot was starting to swell.

The swelling bulge at the base of Nero’s cock caught against Sebastian’s rim on every outward stroke and dragged, hot and heavy, against the tender ring of muscle.

Sebastian felt it before he understood it. Felt the way Nero’s rhythm stuttered. Felt the sudden, sharp intake of breath against his temple.

"Sebastian."

"I know."

Nero’s hips snapped forward one last time and stayed there.

The knot pushed past the resistance of Sebastian’s entrance with a wet, yielding pop that Sebastian felt in his teeth. His whole body seized around it, spine arching off the glass, heels digging into Nero’s lower back, fingers clawing at those broad shoulders hard enough to leave marks.

The stretch was blinding. Nero’s knot swelled inside him, fat and round and pulsing, filling the space behind Sebastian’s prostate with a fullness that made his vision white at the edges and his cock jerk untouched against his own stomach.

"Breathe," Nero said, wrecked, his forehead pressed to Sebastian’s.

Sebastian tried. The air came in pieces.

Each shallow inhale pushed his abdominal wall out enough that he could see it, the faint distension below his navel where Nero’s knot sat heavy inside him.

"You’re..." he started, swallowing. "You’re locked..."

"I know." Nero’s voice was thin, strained, all the arrogance burned out of it. His hands had moved to Sebastian’s hips, holding him in place, thumbs pressing into the crests of his hip bones. "It will pass. Or it won’t, for a while. You need to—"

Whatever Sebastian needed to do, he didn’t get to hear, because Nero shifted his weight and the knot moved with him, dragging against every nerve inside Sebastian’s walls in one long, unbearable stroke of pressure, and Sebastian came.

It wasn’t the kind of orgasm he was used to. It built nowhere.

It simply broke with a full-body clench that started in his ass and radiated outward until his thighs shook and his cock spat thin spurts of white across Nero’s chest, and the knot inside him never moved, never gave, never let him ride it out the way his body wanted to. He was pinned on it. Stretched around it. Every pulse of his own release tightened him around Nero’s cock, and Nero made a low, wounded sound against his throat and came too.

Sebastian felt the first pump deep inside him, and then another, and another, each one adding to the pressure already straining his walls.

Nero’s balls drew up tight against Sebastian’s ass, and Sebastian could feel them pulse with every release, could feel the sheer volume of it filling him beyond what his body had room for.

"God," Nero groaned.

Sebastian couldn’t answer.

He could only feel it. The knot holding everything in. The heat of Nero’s cum spreading through him. His belly was already beginning to show it—a soft, tight bulge just below his navel that grew with each new pump until it pressed gently against Nero’s abs where their bodies met, and the feel of it against his own skin made Sebastian’s breath stutter.

"You’re filling me up," he managed.

"Yes."

"I can feel it."

"I know." Nero’s hands moved from his hips to his belly, palms flat over the bulge, and pressed. Just enough that Sebastian felt the pressure double inside him, the cum shifting, the knot rocking against his prostate in a way that made his still-hard cock twitch and leak against Nero’s wrist.

"Don’t," Sebastian gasped.

"Don’t what?"

"Don’t press!"

Nero pressed again. Slow. Watching Sebastian’s face the whole time, eyes wide and dark violet, pupils blown so far his irises were barely visible.

The pressure inside Sebastian built until it was almost pain, and then Nero’s cock twitched one final time and released another pulse of cum into the already-overfull space behind his knot, and Sebastian’s mouth fell open on a sound he’d never made before.

"There," Nero murmured. "That one."

Sebastian would have hit him if he’d had the coordination. Instead, he slumped back against the glass, chest heaving, legs trembling where they hung over Nero’s arms, and let the window take his weight while Nero stayed buried to the knot inside him.