That's more like it. I love seeing those eyes streaming with tears." He pulled out, and Jax barely choked out an inhale before he slammed back in again, his head cracking against the door. "You being such a mess is a fucking turn-on.
And the sick motherfucker meant it. His dick grew thicker and heavier in Jax's mouth as he thrust in and out, using his tongue for friction, not caring about the saliva, snot, and tears that trailed down his chin.
"You're surprisingly good at taking cock." He shoved Jax against his groin and kept him there.
Choking him.
Making him touch him.
His zipper scratched Jax's chin, and he clawed at his thighs, his fingers desperately clinging to the fabric, his skin, anywhere he could touch.
"Or more accurately." He thrust, knocking Jax's head against the door. "You're good at being used."
This bitch was going to suffocate him to death. Jax was going to die with a cock in his mouth.
With a man using him.
On a whim, he moved his lazy tongue, licked the bottom of his dick, thinking about the weekly blowjobs he got, then sucked. Mostly how he liked being sucked but didn't tell her, because girls can't or don't want to do it.
They don't go hard and deep, to where it kinda hurts.
Jax thought he liked it, as his forceful thrusts stopped.
His hands clamped around the base of his dick, smearing him with some of the blood, sucking more intensely, licking more desperately, attempting to drain him of every last drop of cum.
The man who had only days left to live pulled harder on Jax's hair. "The fuck you think you're doing?"
He did not like it—how Jax was sucking him. Jax could feel the angry confusion in his voice. He could also feel the roughness and the suppressed desire.
So Jax squeezed his cock in his hand, jerking him and then sucking it in his mouth that was all filled with saliva now, making the sounds sloppy.
The idea that he was on his knees, sucking a guy off, was enough to send any other man reeling, but Jax pushed it down.
Because those empty eyes were tightening, yet he didn't stop Jax when he deep-throated him, took him in as deep as he could, and used the movement of his throat to send him over.
His abs convulsed and contracted.
A grunt fell from his mouth.
His veins distended and pulsed in Jax's mouth.
That's it. He was at Jax's mercy now, even though he was on his knees and his cock was in Jax's mouth.
The rush of power inebriated him and he sucked and licked, enveloping the crown in rough strokes and a fast rhythm that he'd like if he were getting head.
He didn't think of the humiliating position or him standing over him or even the gun.
He only thought of the power in his hands. How his breathing grew uncoordinated, his fingers pulling at Jax's hair.
Jax's spine convulsed, his cock hardening in his jeans.
No.
He wasn't hard because he was sucking cock.
That was not fucking possible.
He caught a boner every time if he didn't get himself in the mood. It just didn't happen. "What a fucking natural slut." The man shoved his shoe onto Jax's jeans, onto his hardening cock, and he grunted against his dick. "Too much of a slut, it seems."
"Fuck you," Jax muttered, but it trailed off into a groan when he rubbed his shoe up and down, the friction sending shivers down his spine.
"You hardened up by being used. What a little masochist. Need a hand with that? It looks like it hurts."
Jax would prefer that he shoot him.
But he did something better.
As he toyed with Jax's dick, he did that thing where he swallowed around his crown with his throat. The one that had made him grunt earlier.
And he stopped.
He grabbed Jax's head with both hands, the gun still against the back of his neck as he fucked into his mouth a few more times, his rough grunts filling the room.
There's just no other way to say it. He used him.
The messy noise of his dick mixing with Jax's saliva and his precum was deafening. And Jax hated it, or he hoped desperately so, since his dick had formed a full hard-on by now.
By getting face-fucked.
Was he turned on?
No fucking way. He was not turned on because of someone else's actions.
This must be a nightmare.
"You're such a natural at taking cock, little monster." His groan vibrated through Jax and settled in his balls. "This hot, warm mouth is dying to be filled with my cum."
Jax wanted to shake his head, but he couldn't, and he was painfully hard now.
Like it wasn't even a joke. For the first time in his life, his erection hurt.
"I'm gonna come down this damn throat and fill you up with my cum." He spasmed a number of times and a salty taste exploded at the back of Jax's throat and a sticky liquid spilled out on either side of his chin.
When he withdrew and got himself tucked in, Jax turned on his side to spit, but he caught his chin, touching him, again. "Swallow every last drop. Waste any and I'll move to your other hole."
Jax glared at him and a smirk pulled on the corner of his lips beneath the mask. "But then again, you might like that, too, seeing as how you're so goddamn hard under my shoe."
Jax swallowed hard as he pushed his shoe further in and he was leaking precum. A grunt filled the air and he realized it had come from his mouth.
Fuck. Had he ever been this hard?
If he kept rubbing, Jax would blow in his pants.
What the fuck?
He should find his shoe disgusting, not want him to move it up and down.
He gathered the cum on Jax's chin and put his index and middle fingers against his lips. "Open."
When Jax did, he pushed them in, curling them into his tongue, pushing all the way to the back of his throat. Slowly applying more pressure on Jax's cock.
His balls were so heavy, they'd burst, and he was still leaking in his fucking boxers. Jax's spine jerked as he rocked back and forth on his knees.
"What a little freak. You're close just due to pain?" He pulled his fingers from Jax's mouth at the same time as his shoe was gone.
And poof went the pressure. Nothing but damn fucking frustration and the infamous blue ball syndrome Jax had never experienced previously was all that remained.
He leaned forward and nipped Jax's cheeks between his thin, bony fingers. Jax's mouth fell open of its own accord and he spat between them.
He spat in Jax's mouth.
"Little monsters like you don't get to come." He slapped Jax's cheek twice. "Useful hole, though.
And he shoved Jax like a sack of potatoes, opened the door, and left. The urge to see blood spill in front of Jax's eyes had been constant and unwavering since he left the mansion of HARK.
It had been throbbing beneath the wound in his hand, the ache in his jaw, and the vile taste he couldn't seem to get rid of no matter how many times he brushed his teeth and gargled and even swallowed mouthwash.
It was trapped between his flesh and that hunger for pain.
The devils in the void had been pulsating, screw vibrating for something.
Pain, yes, but that was not enough no matter how many times he inserted his knife into his hand wound, turning and twirling the blade until his blood collected at the shower drain.
Jax observed as the bright red flowed, its intensity fading, slowly spreading into a murky, unhealthy hue before being carried off by the water. It swirled around as if it were trying to cling to something, but it was futile, dying, bleeding off into nothing.
The sensation of tightness sitting on his chest didn't, though. Become nothing, he meant. It was a dense burning ball sitting on his chest, a constant fucking weight he could barely breathe through.
It was spreading, the burn, to the back of his throat, his hair, his stomach, his cheeks.
Everywhere he fucking touched him.
Jax scrubbed his face red. Even his shoulders, his stomach, his dick. He'd been scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing anyplace he touched with his filthy fucking fingers—even through clothes. And when that didn't work, he'd tried his knife. Another knife, not the one he shot the fuck out of his hand.