Roman couldn’t look away. Watching his thick cock fucking such an angelic, innocent face seemed beyond filthy and wrong. Despite the tears in his eyes as Roman’s cock choked him, the boy was hard, his slim fingers working furiously on his own erection. An angel and a whore.
“Such a cockslut,” Roman said softly, hands cradling and stroking the boy’s cherubic face as his hips snapped forward and back. “How many cocks did you suck, you little whore?”
Luke moaned around his cock. Apparently he liked being forced, used, and called derogatory names. Appearances could certainly be deceiving, though Roman wasn’t one to judge. People got off on the weirdest shit, him included, and it meant nothing.
This meant nothing.
So he let go, taking his pleasure in Whitford’s son’s mouth and telling him what a slut he was, telling him that he was born to have a cock in his every hole, all the while cradling and stroking Luke’s face as if he were made from something precious. The boy reacted beautifully, sucking his cock like a goddamn pro and leaning into his hands, seeking his touch. He didn’t resist when Roman rolled him onto his back and, straddling his chest, fed his cock back into Luke’s waiting mouth. After that it was a blur of fucking, the boy’s hoarse moans and his own grunts as he thrust into the wet perfect heat of that mouth.
At last, he came, swearing through his gritted teeth, and watched the boy swallow his come with eagerness that shouldn’t have been so damn arousing.
“Mmm,” Luke said, panting, when Roman pulled out. He looked fucking wrecked, his lips even redder and fuller than usual, his dark eyes glazed over. Roman let his softening cock drag across the boy’s flushed cheek before flopping onto his back next to him.
The room was silent but for the sound of their ragged breaths.
Roman tucked his cock in, zipped up, and looked back at the boy.
He still lay sprawled on the mattress, the expression on his face dazed, smooth legs splayed out, his hand wrapped loosely around his spent cock.
Roman resisted the urge to get out of the bed and leave without a word, to get away from this room and everything that had happened in it. He wouldn’t, of course. Doing so would be a demonstration of weakness, would betray how much the sex had rattled him. He wasn’t rattled. Just annoyed with himself. He wasn’t supposed to have sex with Luke Whitford, at least not at this point. Using him as a hole for his dick was unlikely to make the boy trust him, considering what Luke had implied about his ex.
He had needlessly complicated everything, adding something unpredictable, something that could either hinder or help his plans. It could go either way.
Luke turned toward him, his eyes still glossy and soft. “You gave me a safeword.”
“It might come as a surprise to you,” Roman said, his voice very dry, “but I don’t actually enjoy raping people.” He let the corner of his mouth curl up. “Unless they’re into it.”
A faint blush appeared on Luke’s cheeks. He pursed his lips. He looked like a disgruntled kitten. “I’m not into it,” he said haltingly. “You forced me.”
Roman raised his eyebrows. “That’s not how I remember it.”
“I’m not sick,” Luke said, looking even more disgruntled. “Only sick, twisted people are into that kind of thing.”
Roman pulled a cigarette and a lighter out of his shirt pocket. “Is that what nice people teach their kids these days?” he said, lighting the cigarette. “What a load of bullshit.” He inhaled deeply and blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling. “Newsflash, kotyonok: what gets you off says nothing about your character. I know a man who gets off on being pissed on by women. He’s one of the most assertive, confident men I’ve ever met.”
There was an uncertain, confused look on Luke’s face now. He opened his mouth and closed it several times, but in the end, he settled on, “Don’t call me kotyonok. I know what that means.”
Roman snorted. “I called you a whore, cockslut and blyad, and you didn’t mind, but now you’re bothered that I called you a kitten.” Kitten was apt. The boy did look like a disgruntled kitten.
Luke pursed his ridiculous lips. “I hate it when people use endearments they don’t mean.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, solnyshko,” Roman said. He almost laughed at the face the boy pulled.
“Sunshine isn’t any better than kitten,” Luke grumbled, glaring at him uncertainly.
“You know Russian pretty well,” Roman said, a little surprised by the fact. The boy’s father didn’t know two Russian words.
“I’m pretty good at understanding it, but I’m horrible at speaking it.” Luke shot him a probing look. “I don’t get it. You’re being almost nice. You’re not a nice person.”
“What makes you think so?” Roman said, deeply amused. Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been so amused. “Because I had you kidnapped and locked up here?”