MEnAce (peterick)

6 - Patrick

minor smut warning

~~~

I'm not entirely sure what the fuck is going on.

My number one rule is this: Under no circumstances will I allow myself to feel toward another human being. Especially not Pete. I haven't known him any longer than twenty-four hours, a time much too short to earn anyone's trust.

The moment Pete throws me down onto his bed, I know I am making a huge mistake. The mistake of not telling him to stop, of not pushing him away. Mistakes that will lead to the benefit of my mood in the latter.

So when Pete rips off my clothes, I don't protest, and I don't complain when his slim fingers start stroking about my vulnerable and exposed dignity. It's imminent; my heart is going to be broken, and I'm going to allow it to happen. I will earn the great and terrible honour of introducing Pete to his inner demons, introducing him to an impossible agony and an inevitable death.

There he is again, my little friend, that rush of power. My retinas are on fire, my vision blackening and lightening and blackening again. The compelling burn seeps from my eyes and soaks into his hazel ones.

This is unnatural, even for me. A step too far. My eyes shouldn't be glowing. My eyes don't glow. Pete had seen, and he hadn't questioned it. He had been captivated. He is readying himself to enter me, safe, of course, but I don't like that at all. Whatever Pete is doing right now isn't under Pete's control.

I am in control. I am the dominant.

Placing my hands against Pete's chest, I shove him and throw him to one side; now he's lying flat on his back, eyes wide with surprise. He tries to push himself back up, but I'm already straddling his abdomen, pinning him in place.

I duck my head to his neck and nibble lightly at his ear. "What is it that you want?" I demand.

"I want to... to fuck you," he pleads, moaning, and I smirk.

"Wrong answer."

"Then I want you to fuck me."

"With those manners? Oh, honey, I don't think so."

"Please, Patty," Pete remarks. "I want you... really bad."

I chuckle teasingly, but don't answer. Instead I trail my hands up his arms and grip him at the wrists, restraining them above his head. He bites back a desperate cry, though he is unable to hold in that wail for long, as with little care and no preparation, I begin to thrust my hips. I'm a virgin, would you believe, yet I don't have any decency to start slow. I relish the rapid, steady movement of my hips as I listen to the pained whines of my submissive.

"Patrick," Pete chokes. "It hurts."

Good.

"You're hurting me."

Oh, you haven't felt pain, not yet.

"Shit..."

"You're so weak," I spit, scolding him as I throw my head back with gratification. I keep the pleasure all to myself, leaving Pete a sobbing mess.