Noah wasn't sure when it happened—when Asher flipped him over and pinned him down on the bed. His pants were already gone.
The bedside lamp was still on. Half of Noah's flushed face was pressed to the sheets, breath ragged and shallow, lashes wet and trembling. His legs barely had any strength left, and his hole was still twitching, clenching involuntarily like it hadn't gotten enough.
His throat was raw, voice completely shot, and even breathing came with a rasp.
He bit his lower lip hard, trying to keep quiet.
But then Asher grabbed his waist from behind and, without a word, thrust in—thick, hard, and deep.
"Uhn—mm!"
All the way in, slick and messy, the sound of their bodies meeting echoed in the air—wet, obscene, and heavy.
The noise he made broke in his throat, cracked and helpless. It slipped out before he could stop it, shaking and raw.
Mortified, Noah buried his face into the pillow, eyes burning. He couldn't even fight back anymore. His body jolted with every thrust, helplessly dragged forward. His hole clenched and fluttered, overstimulated and burning, but his heart was pounding too fast to care.
"What are you holding it in for?"
Asher's voice came hot against his ear, breath scalding.
"Say something. I want to hear you."
Noah screwed his eyes shut, jaw clenched tight.
But Asher didn't let up. His thrusts came sharp and precise, hitting deep—hitting right there. That soft, aching spot inside him that made everything spark white. Noah's hole was too sensitive, still raw from the last climax. But Asher didn't let up—he pressed in harder, deeper, like he wanted to draw out whatever was left of that shattered high.
"Ah… ha… d-don't…" Noah finally gasped out, his voice breaking, barely more than a whisper. There was a quiver to it, on the edge of a sob.
Asher only smiled, like he'd been waiting for it. He grabbed Noah's shoulder and pulled him back, closer.
Noah's *ss was high in the air, chest pressed to the bed, completely exposed—completely his.
"Say my name."
Noah froze, panting, legs trembling violently.
"Just once," Asher's voice dropped, low and coaxing. "Say it, and I'll take it easier on you."
Noah bit down harder, his heartbeat frantic, his head spinning.
Asher stopped moving. Like he was teasing. Like he was waiting. He stayed pressed close, kissing gently along Noah's neck, fingertips tracing lazy circles over the dip of his waist.
Noah's fingers twisted in the sheets. His eyes were wet, chest heaving, everything inside him a molten mess.
And then—he gave in.
A whisper, barely a breath: "...Asher."
The response was instant. Asher gripped his waist and drove in hard—one deep, brutal thrust that bottomed out completely. A lewd pop sounded from his drenched hole as it swallowed every inch.
Noah's body jerked, toes curled, eyes wide and unfocused. A high, broken moan tore from his throat.
"Ha… ah—you…!"
He couldn't even finish. His voice cracked and splintered, shaking with every word, every movement.
Asher leaned in and bit his shoulder, growling with a husky, breathless laugh.
"Good boy." He sounded almost pleased. "Knew your voice would sound perfect saying my name."
And then all restraint was gone.
He grabbed Noah's slim waist, and every thrust after that was deeper, harder—like he was molding him from the inside out.
Noah couldn't hold himself up. His back gave in, and he was just there, getting f*ck*d, gasping with every slam of hips against *ss. Each thrust hit that same sweet spot, over and over, like it was wired straight to his spine.
He wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't fall. Just hot, desperate breath through parted lips, trembling hands, the occasional sob stuck in his throat.
He was overwhelmed—and yet, somewhere deep inside… he liked it.
Because Asher wasn't lying. He really was being gentler.
He wasn't just pounding him without care—he was adjusting, learning him, responding to every noise, every tremble. It was rough, sure, but it was controlled. Intimate. Possessive in a way that made his stomach twist.
It felt like being trained.
Noah tried to keep the name from slipping out again.
But it kept coming—soft, choked, broken.
Each time he said it, it sounded less like resistance and more like pleading.
He didn't even know how many times he'd cried out already.
His throat was wrecked. His eyes were glassy. His cheeks were burning red.
The blankets beneath him were twisted, his chest slick with sweat. His *ss was soaked, the air thick with the smell of s*x, the windows fogged up from the heat alone.
His body had gone limp, his hips aching, legs trembling and wide open.
But Asher still didn't stop.
He leaned down, teeth catching Noah's earlobe. His voice dropped, hot and hungry:
"You like it when I f*ck you like this?"
Noah's face burned. His body twitched, but his mouth couldn't form a single lie.
Each thrust pushed him deeper into that bright, drowning pleasure. His nerves were on fire. His body responded before his brain could.
Especially when Asher whispered again, voice like velvet:
"Relax for me… Feels good, doesn't it?"
Noah almost sobbed.
He'd tried to fight.
But his body had already surrendered.
Especially when Asher kissed the shell of his ear, then reached down to stroke his back—
Noah's whole body arched violently.
"Ah… ah—!"
His fingers dug into the sheets. His back lifted off the bed in a tight arc—just before Asher pressed him down again, holding him still.
His mind went blank.
And then, he came.
Hard.
Noah moaned loud and cracked, his voice raw, Asher's name on his lips.
It was the first time.
The first time someone had f*ck*d him to orgasm.
He was shaking, tears threatening, his face buried in the sheets. The mess between his legs was obscene—his c*ck untouched, but still twitching from release. His waist was sore, his breath hitched, and yet—
Asher wasn't done.
He held Noah's hips steady and kept moving—slow, steady, but still so deep.
Noah twitched violently with every thrust. His oversensitive hole fluttered around Asher's c*ck, still trying to s*ck him back in.
"Still clenching," Asher groaned, voice hoarse. "Greedy thing."
He leaned down, biting behind Noah's ear.
Noah whimpered and tried to shake his head. But his body betrayed him again, his insides pulling Asher in deeper, tighter.
Asher's breathing turned rough. He was close.
And then he slammed in one last time, deep and hard, hitting that tender spot still aching from Noah's climax.
"—Aah!!"
Noah cried out, voice cracking, breath gone.
Asher held him still and pounded in hard, his rhythm relentless.
Their bodies moved in sync, skin meeting skin with slick, messy slaps. The bed creaked beneath them, loud and rhythmic. The room was filled with the raw, obscene sound of s*x.
Noah was long gone—soft, limp, f*ck*d through. His hole swollen, stretched wide, each thrust like a shock straight to the spine.
Asher was sweating, muscles tense, jaw tight.
And finally, with one deep thrust—
He came.
Buried to the hilt, he groaned low and rough, hips twitching.
Hot c*m spilled deep inside, flooding Noah's already sore hole.
One pulse. Then another. Then another.
Noah's body jerked with every spurt, a thick warmth spreading inside him, dripping down his thighs.
It was too much.
"No… s-stop… too much…"
He sobbed weakly, but Asher didn't stop. Caught in the aftershocks, he pulled back and thrust once more—another sharp spurt flooding deep.
The c*m spilled everywhere, soaking the sheets between Noah's legs.
Noah couldn't even speak. He collapsed into the sheets, chest heaving, breath shuddering.
His whole lower half was soaked, full, sore to the point of pain.
Asher leaned over him, kissing down his neck.
"F*ck… you feel unreal inside."
"If you hadn't just come… I wouldn't have stopped."
He stroked Noah's waist, palm firm, possessive, but strangely gentle.
Noah's mind was empty. He couldn't move. He couldn't talk.
All he could do was lie there, gasping softly, his body still trembling, too spent to fight, too full to speak.
But his heart…
His heart was still racing.
Because he knew—
This was only the beginning.