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[Cole has no idea what to make it of when Petre quite openly enjoys having his wind cut off. It snaps him awake as well, makes him want to jerk his hand away in horror, but Petre's craning his head back to expose more and encourage him. There's nothing wrong with it, right? That makes it consensual, which is what matters.
(He's playing with the idea of taking a life. Getting off on it. That's what matters. But he's too fogged with arousal to reach any sort of moral thought right now.)]
Fuck. [A low growl, conflicted but drenched in need.] Fuck. [And he presses harder with his hand, covers more of Petre's slender throat, meeting the pace that Petre's once again begun to set with his hips and hanging his head so as not to see the effect this will have on Petre's face. He'll go brilliantly red, then shades of purple and blue. Cole has seen it. He's done this with the express purpose of killing someone, and it's worked. He feels sick, but his hips never stop pumping, and he never stops moaning deliriously.]
(He's playing with the idea of taking a life. Getting off on it. That's what matters. But he's too fogged with arousal to reach any sort of moral thought right now.)]
Fuck. [A low growl, conflicted but drenched in need.] Fuck. [And he presses harder with his hand, covers more of Petre's slender throat, meeting the pace that Petre's once again begun to set with his hips and hanging his head so as not to see the effect this will have on Petre's face. He'll go brilliantly red, then shades of purple and blue. Cole has seen it. He's done this with the express purpose of killing someone, and it's worked. He feels sick, but his hips never stop pumping, and he never stops moaning deliriously.]
hi
this is kieren. jem's brother, obviously. that bit's important because i'm about to do the overprotective sibling thing, so
don't hurt her, alright? i know you guys managed to patch things up
she's happier here. she's getting better. part of that probably is because of you, so just....
don't fuck this up
that's all i really have to say
this is kieren. jem's brother, obviously. that bit's important because i'm about to do the overprotective sibling thing, so
don't hurt her, alright? i know you guys managed to patch things up
she's happier here. she's getting better. part of that probably is because of you, so just....
don't fuck this up
that's all i really have to say
[There isn't much to do, when he's being shoved into, held down and choked, a rag doll in the hands of a killer. The little sounds escape him still, an attempt to grunt, struggle lightly, before parted lips and an apparently swollen tongue give way to a grin, skin turning different shades of color. He still manages to move his legs, if nothing else, wrapped around Cole's body to pull him even closer, to clamp around him as well.
He loves it. He fucking loves it. The lust, the wrath. Guilt somewhere in there waiting for the door to unlock so it can come flooding in like blood through a gash. Petre can't let Cole kill him, though, not unless either one of them wants something utterly disastrous to happen tonight, so with his brute strength, his hands come up to grab Cole's wrists, anchoring them in place while red-rimmed eyes stare sharply at him. This will go on for as long as it's minimally safe - for Cole - and now Petre just wants him to come, wants him to growl while he does, to be drenched in sweat and to fill Petre up with his anger and come.
Teeth clenched, he presses his brows, rolls his hips even harder, vessels tight, nostrils flaring. Come on come on come on -]
He loves it. He fucking loves it. The lust, the wrath. Guilt somewhere in there waiting for the door to unlock so it can come flooding in like blood through a gash. Petre can't let Cole kill him, though, not unless either one of them wants something utterly disastrous to happen tonight, so with his brute strength, his hands come up to grab Cole's wrists, anchoring them in place while red-rimmed eyes stare sharply at him. This will go on for as long as it's minimally safe - for Cole - and now Petre just wants him to come, wants him to growl while he does, to be drenched in sweat and to fill Petre up with his anger and come.
Teeth clenched, he presses his brows, rolls his hips even harder, vessels tight, nostrils flaring. Come on come on come on -]
[He does come, and come hard, snarling loudly rather than growling as it hits him in a rush and he freezes up to empty himself into Petre. He's gasping by the time it's finished washing over him, utterly exhausted, blood seeping through the makeshift bandage on his arm and almost ready to drip, and he looks back to see the horror of Petre's face - and any hint or suggestion of afterglow is gone. He's cold all over, horrified, trying to jerk his hands free so he can release that awful grip and jerk Petre to orgasm instead of choking him. There will be bruises, brief but very much there, he's sure. Handprints around Petre's throat.]
Jesus - Petre, let go -
Jesus - Petre, let go -
[It isn't until Cole begs him to let go that he does, gasping in fully in a series of deep breaths, coughing and moaning as he continues to roll his hips, pressing and pushing down against Cole's overly sensitive cock for nothing more than a little bit of torture.]
Fuck - hurry up - I wanna come -
[His own cock is torture, too, hard as it can get, aching for release, a drop slipping through the slit before he brings a hand down to jerk himself off with a longing moan.]
Fuck - hurry up - I wanna come -
[His own cock is torture, too, hard as it can get, aching for release, a drop slipping through the slit before he brings a hand down to jerk himself off with a longing moan.]
[Yep, the continued grinding on his softening cock is about as unpleasant as it could be, but nothing matches the unpleasantness of - yes, there it is, a clear red handprint on Petre's throat. Cole swallows heavily and looks away, but his hand joins Petre's around his cock, willing to help him along or take over completely if Petre wants to let go and leave it to him. He just wants this over with.]
[The grinding doesn't stop - he still rolls his hips up against Cole's hand this time, letting go to grasp at anything he can around him, be it an object, be it Cole's arm, his skin, digging nails. He gasps, voice hoarse after his throat was pressured so tightly, but the marks are slowly fading away and healing. Soon there will be no proof that Cole even harmed him; meanwhile, the blood on that arm will remain.]
I'm close - [ah, he snaps his hips up, throws his head back, throat bare,] So fucking clo - ah - fuck!
[And he ejaculates, a series of smaller spurts after the larger one, coating Cole's hand and Petre's abdomen in come. His legs are trembling, fingers pressed down, until he finally stops and falls back, limbs relaxed, chest heaving.]
Fuck...
I'm close - [ah, he snaps his hips up, throws his head back, throat bare,] So fucking clo - ah - fuck!
[And he ejaculates, a series of smaller spurts after the larger one, coating Cole's hand and Petre's abdomen in come. His legs are trembling, fingers pressed down, until he finally stops and falls back, limbs relaxed, chest heaving.]
Fuck...
[As soon as Petre's finished, Cole climbs off him and gets his pants back up, moving with such intensity that he's almost shaking. His face is twisted up and ugly with a million emotions, fear and anger and self-loathing and deep, deep regret, and blood is now running down his arm from where it's soaked through the towel but he barely seems to notice. Doesn't notice at all, really.]
This has gotta stop. [Going for the entranceway, for his shoes.] This has gotta stop...
This has gotta stop. [Going for the entranceway, for his shoes.] This has gotta stop...
Wait... wait.
[He's still in a daze, movements somewhat delayed in relation to Cole's sudden rush. Cole shoves himself off, leaves Petre empty and come dripping down his body as soon as he's on his feet. Half naked, clothes and hair completely disarranged, the markings on his neck a soft pink at best. He barely even tries to pick his clothes up as he stumbles, a pathetic display against Cole's regret and urgency.]
Where are you going? Stay a while. What's this 'this has gotta stop' bullshit?
[He's still in a daze, movements somewhat delayed in relation to Cole's sudden rush. Cole shoves himself off, leaves Petre empty and come dripping down his body as soon as he's on his feet. Half naked, clothes and hair completely disarranged, the markings on his neck a soft pink at best. He barely even tries to pick his clothes up as he stumbles, a pathetic display against Cole's regret and urgency.]
Where are you going? Stay a while. What's this 'this has gotta stop' bullshit?
[He doesn't even look up from lacing his shoes.]
I'm not doing this again. I gotta - I gotta get rid of this thing in me, not keep feeding it with you. It's gonna get worse.
[His hands are shaking. He can't get the loops done for the life of him.]
I'm not doing this again. I gotta - I gotta get rid of this thing in me, not keep feeding it with you. It's gonna get worse.
[His hands are shaking. He can't get the loops done for the life of him.]
No. Cole - Cole? You gotta listen to me.
[he tries to do something about his own clothes; instead he grows frustrated and lets them hang around his hips, barely covering his cock. He's absolutely filthy, but Cole is trying to leave and he doesn't want him to.]
You gotta feed into it. It's okay. It's like me, right? Look, I'm fine. Not a mark on me. I'm fucking fine - would you stop that?
[he finally grabs his arm, right below the wound.]
You're bleeding. You can't leave like this.
[he tries to do something about his own clothes; instead he grows frustrated and lets them hang around his hips, barely covering his cock. He's absolutely filthy, but Cole is trying to leave and he doesn't want him to.]
You gotta feed into it. It's okay. It's like me, right? Look, I'm fine. Not a mark on me. I'm fucking fine - would you stop that?
[he finally grabs his arm, right below the wound.]
You're bleeding. You can't leave like this.
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