Title: LIKE A MOTH TO A FLAME PT3.

Author: Vamp

Pairing(s ): Gojyo x ST.

Rating: NC 17

Summary: has gojyo gone to far?

Warning:  semi non-con, language, m/m.

Notes:

Beta: purpleiccles

 

LIKE A MOTH TO A FLAME PT3.

 

Two weeks pass like normal. Two weeks of healing and Goku looking the same as he normally does; happy and playful. Two weeks of me trying to sneak a look and see if the little bastard had gone nuts again or waiting for one of the others to speak out about that time in the forest. Two weeks that every lady I took to bed never sparked my interest to such a high as he did. Hissing in my ear he laid his poisoned claim on me. Two fucking weeks and I'm about ready to rip the little twerp's coronet off and have him do me all over again in the street.

 

See? I'm sick. Sitting at a bar slowly getting shit faced is not helping – but then why should it? It never worked before other than to give me a reason not to have to hold Goku tonight. Yep, we're sharing a room; despite my protests His Holiness refused to change. Though I don't know what exactly I was expecting – he never does… Prick! Goku had given me those puppy eyes and winning smile, and like a coward I had hoped that by getting drunk I would find a way out.

 

Hakkai materializes by my side, all smiles, and even buys me a drink before passing on the priest's ultimatum;

"Gojyo try not to drink too much tonight, Sanzo wishes to start early." Then, like a ghost, he's melted back into the crowd of people at the bar. I hate how he can do that – I've always stood right out in a crowd. Is that why Seiten chose me? So I can't hide from him? I push the thought away and take a large gulp of beer. Maybe I need something stronger. Not feeling like playing the good school boy tonight, I stay at the bar drinking out of my own stubborn pride. Eventually, the stubbornness wears off long enough for me to realize that Sanzo's itchy trigger finger is more of an immediate threat if I don't do as he says. In the end I only stay for a couple more drinks – not enough to have any lasting effects tomorrow, but enough of a buzz and more importantly enough to ensure that the monkey will be in bed snoring his head off.

 

The sight  that greeted me on arrival to our room was a relief to my tortured soul. Goku lay  on his back arms and legs thrown out in a relaxed tangle mess, completely dead  to the world and how the sheet was tented at his groin. A small moan escapes me as I run to the safety of the little bathroom, needing to take care of the built up frustration the sight had rekindled. Undressing down to my boxers, I give a little squeeze to my weeping cock now and then through the cotton cloth.

 

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I could smell his arousal; a heavy musk mixed with cigarette smoke dancing on the air, individual to him. The wanting sigh was music to my ears. My pet slut was in heat and I would be able to further his training tonight, making my claim over him stronger still. His look of shock was delicious as I reached round to cup the hand holding the erection I knew he had been trying to calm down.

"That's mine, slut." I slap his had away to expose the damp fabric. "I did not give you permission to touch yourself." I growl, standing on tip-toe to bite his ear and reinforce the point. He will understand that he's mine to control. He yelps, but doesn't pull away; I can feel him tremble, using his hands to support himself on the sink, his tall form slightly hunched. I smile. Good, he's already learnt subservience. He knows who's master here. Smiling, I grab a handful of his long red hair, pulling him about to look me in the eye. I see his reaction as it finally clicks just whom he is facing. It appears I have his full, undivided attention now.

 

"Pet, you have been avoiding us." I purr softly, noting how my voice has his knees buckling and guilt running across his lovely features, so plain to see.

I like him on his knees before me, body begging to be taken, used. Asking silently that I give him that taste of poison that only I hold. I can see by looking into his eyes that he has not fully given up, there is still a stubborn streak to tame, should I desire to. Releasing my hold on his hair, I run my fingers along the twin scars that make him so much more alluring to me; a little imperfection can be wonderful. He breathes a soft sigh which makes me smile, patting his head like a cherished pet dog. I had expected him to pull at the leash I had placed on him that night in the forest, so I will be only a little harsh in the punishment I am about to dish out to him. Leaning close has my lips meeting his, tongue seeking  entrance to his mouth, which I am given with only a token resistance. Delving deeply, mapping out his tastes, he breathes again, but this time there is need. Want. I pull back from the deep kiss, satisfied that he is moulding to how I want him.

 

Again I manhandle him to where I want him, bending him over the side of the bath and forcing his head down as I kick his legs apart. Gripping both hands on his boxers, I groan as I feel the fabric give to my strength, ripping loudly. Such a wonderful sound! Stepping back, I can admire the view of his exposed body; small shivers running along his spine. I can't help but sigh, despite the urgent stabs of want pooling in my groin. I am already hard for him and have little patience. Stepping up behind him I hand him the washcloth I had picked off the sink. He looks back at me over his shoulder, not understanding. Confusion is washed away when I say nothing but give him my predatory smile. For a moment I think he is about to bolt or cry out, the fire in him fighting to overrule his lust; but no, my good pet lowers his head, placing the cloth in his mouth, settling his feet a little farther apart for me. He does not see my little nod at the added act of acceptance over this act, that there has to be pain for there to be pleasure. I cannot hold back for much longer, ignoring my needs makes them grow and I become uncontrollable. That's no fun at all.

 

Placing a hand on each of his round ass cheeks I pull them apart conideringly; last time I took him dry and without preparation – this time I plan something a little different. Kneeling so I can have better access, I pause to allow him to feel truly exposed. So delicious! Teasingly, I lick around that secret hole to make it nicely moist, with small probing thrusts of my tongue I can feel how tight he is. His hips make the smallest of movements and I know he is ready. Rising once more, I line the head of my cock to his entrance, my nails digging into his hips as I push myself inside. One hard thrust, tearing him like before. His body stiffens with the agony of my entrance, head tossed back as his cries are stifled by the washcloth. I give his taut body a moment to recover before slowly pulling out so just my head is inside him. This time when I push back in it is slower and I aim for his prostate, brushing it just enough to mingle pleasure with the sharp edge of pain.

"This will remind you not to deny what you are and who you belong to." I  whisper to him. He drops  his head, signaling his understanding that this is a punishment  fuck. I make it quick and brutal, seeking my own rapidly coming release while keeping him on edge.

 

When it is done, he can hardly stand; trembling in a mix of abused muscles and throbbing desire . Blood dribbles out the tender stretched hole along with my release. He looks at me; crimson eyes into my golden ones. Yes, there I see the fire still even as he submits to me.

"Crawl out there to your bed. When I come out I expect you to be on your back touching yourself. No Coming." There, I can be a merciful master. I doubt he would have made the walk and I'll be damned if I'll carry the big cockroach. I take my time over readying the things I will need for the next stage of my training plans.

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