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Loving you and wanting you are not opposite poles
She has five minutes left before Altan gets home and Rin checks everything for the tenth time.
Table set? Check.
Dinner made? Check.
Wine poured? Check.
Old dark grey t-shirt of his on her shoulders, running down to her ass in her small frame? Check.
In her imaginary set-up, everything was meant to look casual. In reality, everything looks impossibly orchestrated to a neurotic detail, but she is honestly too anxious to care anymore.
This has been a long time coming, and it should fall on him like a bag of bricks.
For a long time, Rin has tried to fight back against her budding feelings for Altan. She never acknowledged them out loud but she has watched similar situations around her unfurl and be squashed, everyone and everything always insisting that these types of feelings are wrong and not based on actual attraction. That they are rooted in comfort, in companionship, in him being there for her during the lowest point of her life.
And that’s just to speak of the nicest takes, the ones that do not paint him as a cartoon villain who had this in his plans all along, who had done nothing but take advantage of her.
Rin has concluded that those takes are pretty stupid. Of course her feelings are rooted in him finding out that another problematic Speerly child was rotting in the system and hunting her down tirelessly until he got to her.
In him being patient enough to get stupidly traumatized, fifteen-year-old Rin to trust him, while stern enough to remind her he was there for her but not to take any of her bullshit.
In him taking her to his own home and building a new one for the two of them.
In the five years they have shared everything, from heartbreaking anecdotes to midnight snacks to knowing smiles to cleansing cries and the most beautiful moments together.
Of course her feelings originate from all he has done for her, how could they not?
He has been her legal guardian, but he also has been a bit her older brother and a bit her father and a bit her life partner, while never truly being any of the above.
Confusion and shame and social pressure have led her to keep the feelings that strayed from the strictly familial bottled deep inside. Until yesterday.
Because yesterday was the most annoyingly hot night of the year so far. Rin had been lying face up on her bed, watching the ceiling fan spin uselessly, unable to sleep with how the heat seemed to be sitting on top of her chest, not allowing her to breathe.
Annoyed and drenched in sweat, at 3 am she gave up and went to get a glass of cold water with the bonus of staying in front of the fridge for a couple of minutes, basking in the cool air from inside.
The water did little to settle down her heated body, but she still considered offering Altan one of his own in case he also was having trouble sleeping. No secret motive of getting to have an excuse to see him ruffled and in his sleeping clothes. No secret agenda. Nope, not all.
It doesn’t matter how much Rin can swear on her pure intentions now, the truth is that Altan had left the door of his room slightly ajar, and okay, Rin knows she should have knocked, but how is one supposed to act rational when you walk close to the bedroom door of your crush slash most important person in your life and you hear them moaning your name?
She was lucky she didn’t spill the water of his glass all over herself with how mystified she was.
Of course she peered inside. She couldn’t help it. And there was Altan in all his naked glory, dark, strong body glistening with sweat that made her throat dry up despite the two glasses of water she had drunk a minute earlier.
She had seen him shirtless before, of course, but not like that, lean muscles in tension, hips bucking in the air while one of his hands was a blur in his cock.
His perfect, delicious cock, thick and dripping at the tip, straining against the unforgiving grip of his right hand. And his other hand-
Oh, his other hand.
His other hand was pressing one of his old t-shirts against his nose. Not any t-shirt but the dark grey one she usually wears to sleep and that she had forgotten to throw in with the laundry the day before. And even from that distance and in the half-darkness of the night, Rin could tell he was not using it only to muffle his sounds- and doing a poor job of that- but he was inhaling it deeply, trying to squeeze out of it even the last drop of her scent.
She tried to be quiet.
She really, really did try.
But then he came on his fist with an obscene spurt that made the sole syllable of her name bounce in the pad of his tongue like a stray bullet. How could she not gasp, knowing now that she was branded on his desire the same way he was in hers?
Altan opened his sharp eyes at the sound, jaw still trembling with the force of his orgasm, a single bead of sweat rolling down his neck. He didn't say anything.
He didn't need to call her out on her peeping.
He knew, and she knew he knew.
Rin fled.
She was trembling when she got to her room, her heart a desperate animal trying to fly out of her chest. She was not in full control of herself, if she had taken a second to think maybe she would have gone to his room asking for forgiveness, but she couldn’t do that in that state.
She was possessed.
She left the water glass meant for him on top of her bedside table, the surface liquid swaying with the intensity of her arousal when she jumped on the bed.
She didn’t even get undressed, she just pushed her panties to the side and rubbed the heel of her hand harshly against her cunt, more frustrated than surprised when she found herself so drenched that her hand was slipping, unable to build in friction.
She scrambled to get off the bed, stumbling over her limbs and tongue getting bitten in frustration until she drew the coppery taste of blood, and stomped towards her desk chair.
The corner of the wood seat bit harshly against the swollen, slick folds of her cunt, but the pain anchored her down. The pain was the only thing blissfully real among the hazy sensations of that sleepless night sealed with fire in her mind- the dream-like memory of Altan’s hand around his cock, the way his tongue slid obscenely inside his mouth when saying her name.
It took only four thrusts against the edge for her to come into a puddle that dripped down the leg of the chair. She bit down on her wrist at the right moment, but she was pretty sure her moan was still loud enough to be heard anywhere in their shoebox apartment.
She stood up on jelly legs, panting. What a waste, she thought while she swiped off her chair with her already ruined panties, that I want him and he wants me and all that keeps us apart is a wall of concrete and one of stupid taboos.
Now, with the clear head of the day after, Rin listens to the sound of his key turning in the lock of the apartment and tells herself that she can't take down the concrete wall, but she can step over the one made of taboos.
Altan Trengsin is not a stranger to walking back to his apartment with tiredness etched in his bones.
He has been through it all, including coming back home from school and two jobs only to be welcomed by the violent fury of the tantrums Rin liked to throw during their first weeks living together.
In hindsight, that was easy. Mostly because, at the end of the day, he was bearing all that with pleasure: he was determined to pull himself and little Runin forward in life even if that meant dragging them both physically by the skin of their necks himself.
Today, the situation is completely different, because it’s not exhaustion and mundane worries making his feet feel like they are cast in lead.
It is guilt.
He knows they are not right, these feelings he has been harboring for Rin for the last year, give or take. He knows. Knowing he is at fault doesn’t make them go away.
Altan knew the risk of something like this happening was only growing with time, but he was hoping against hope that it all might get resolved by itself by Rin eventually moving out and the tension between them dissolving or at least ameliorating.
But he fucked up. Royally, royally fucked up.
Because he slipped up. The feelings have been squashed down inside him for so long that he felt delirious in everyday life, all the time on the edge of bursting. He needed an outlet to let the steam out, and among all the possibilities, indulging himself in a jerk-off session with her on his mind didn’t seem like the worst choice. Until one night of indulgence turned into two and two turned into a regular occurrence to the point that he developed the stupid Pavlovian response of getting a hard-on whenever he saw her yawning.
And then Rin caught him last night in their stupidly tiny apartment. Altan could and should kick himself. And to pour even more shame on top of his head, he left this morning earlier than usual to avoid seeing her.
But he has had enough with one day of panicking and hating himself: it’s time to face the music and move on with their lives.
Or, well, whatever would be left of their lives together, because he has braced himself for the possibility that Rin might hate him.
It would be the easy, obvious choice.
He doesn’t think he would be so lucky to have her pretend nothing has happened. That is not her style, and honestly, it isn’t his either: he would lose respect for her if she went down that path.
He can’t even entertain the idea of her being into him too. That’s not a thing that could happen and he won’t lose his time dwelling on it.
Not when he needs to focus on steeling himself before opening the door and facing the consequences of his stupidity.
Rin tenses when she hears the door opening and hurries to turn around and pretend she is busy with the food, giving him time to appreciate what she has put on display for him.
She tries to hide the shiver in her shoulders at the sound of his bag dropping on the floor followed by his sharp intake of breath. She can imagine the look on his face while taking her in- naked feet, naked legs, the infamous t-shirt from last night falling to the side at the shoulders to expose almost fully her left collarbone while also barely covering the curve of her ass without anything but her panties under it.
If she sways it a little for good measure, who could blame her.
“Rin.”
She pretends she didn’t hear him.
“Dinner will be ready in five, do you want to change first?”
“Rin.”
Now, that is a tone of voice she can not fully understand him using now- closer to what he would unload on her when she came back from school with a report card bleeding red than the moans she heard coming from his bedroom last night.
She turns off the oven but doesn’t turn around, not yet.
“Can we talk?”
This is exactly what she has been trying to avoid.
No, she doesn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want excuses, she doesn’t want Altan to give her a rationalization, to build up again the walls that she has been trying hard to bring down. Last night, when those walls were forgotten for a brief reprise, they managed to look into each other’s naked desire for a second and found kinship, found recognition, found the potential for a future full of unabashed wanting.
“Dinner will go cold.”
“I don’t give a fuck about dinner. Come sit down with me.”
Rin realizes too late that she didn’t prepare herself for this possibility; she doesn’t know how to face him without the cover of her performance, of her little show, of playing the role of his girlfriend while doing for him the same things she has been doing for him for years while being his… his what?
His child?
His little sister?
His roommate?
They have never named this situation properly besides the legal necessities, and now the possibility of having been misreading the tension that ties and entraps them together, makes tears jump to her eyes.
She doesn’t look at him.
If anything, she wants to keep the pride of not crying in front of him.
“Rin, what happened last night… I’m sorry, it shouldn’t have happened and I-”
“Why not?”
Her words surprise even herself. Before Altan started talking, she was just about ready to bolt for her room and cry all night long and maybe move out before sunrise. But now he is talking and her blood is boiling- desire and anger and so much pent-up emotion that her small body doesn’t seem fit to keep contained.
“Why not what?”
“Why shouldn’t it have happened?”
“You know why.”
She finally raises her head and looks directly at him. There are dark bags under his eyes and his hair is sticking every other way, two obvious telltales that he didn’t get any sleep yesterday after her fateful interruption. Too bad, because after her chair-induced orgasm, she slept like a baby, even through the suffocating heat.
He looks tired and it makes her heart clench, but there is also fire in his eyes, and that is a problematic thing they learned early and in the worst way when they started living together: neither of them has ever been good at letting the other express their anger without an equal, sometimes even worse, reaction.
“No, I don’t. I want you, Altan. I thought it was just a hopeless dream, but if you want me too, and I think you do, then what the fuck are we doing?”
Her heart is beating fast enough to leap out of her chest. Every inch of her composure is focused on keeping her breathing under control and holding his gaze.
There. It is all out in the open now.
She liked her plan of feeding him good food and teasing him into blurting out some sort of confession, but if he wants to get to the core of the problem the harsh way, he should know by now that she has no issue serving him truths while kicking and screaming.
His breathing is also ragged, and he licks his lip in what looks like a preparation for saying something. Rin can only follow the movement of his tongue with her eyes, deliberately.
“This is wrong, Rin, don’t play stupid.”
She hits the table with her palms. She doesn’t remember standing up, but she is up now.
“Don’t call me stupid for saying things like they are!”
“Don’t talk to me like that, Mai’rinnen.”
She knows that tone too, the cold rage building inside his mouth, the way he is furrowing his nose, the dark shimmer in his eyes. The use of her full name. It makes a rush of panic overtake her body, making her hands shake and wetness drip between her legs.
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
It is a defiance that she doesn’t feel, that she would not put into practice, but that unfurls easily from her tongue. This has been true for the five years they have known each other: she says terrible things to his face to then go cry in a corner, hating herself for letting him down, shaking in fear of him looking down at her with chagrin, of losing what they have, whatever it is.
Fear of losing him.
Altan grabs her wrist, still on the table from when she hit it earlier. Rin looks down at the painful grip and then up to find him also standing up, leaning over the table, incendiary eyes mere inches from her face.
“I can and I will.”
Then Rin does probably the stupidest and most brilliant thing she could do: she uses his grip on her to her advantage and pulls him down into a kiss.
Altan’s mind goes blank.
Things were already getting out of control, with Rin pushing for something that he knows for certain she doesn’t want, something she can’t want.
But now she is kissing him and all coherent thoughts vanish from his mind in an instant, replaced by the oldest instinct in the world: to claim as his the woman he wants.
He pushes Rin against the nearest wall- later he will fret about the bruises he is leaving and will leave on her skin, but he can’t think about that now- and presses his body against her, his tongue slipping inside her mouth, his hands grabbing at her hips.
They kiss with hunger, they kiss with violence and when Altan runs his tongue against her teeth and she moans his name, it all comes down on him like a bucket of freezing water.
What the fuck is he doing?
He tries to break apart, his heart frenzied inside his ribcage, the horror of what just happened dawning on him.
Yes, he has dreamt about this.
Yes, he has fantasized about this.
Yes, he has jerked himself off stupid with the image of her lips around his cock on his mind, but this?
This is unforgivable.
He takes a stumbling step back, too shaken to even prevent Rin from grasping for his arm, too freaked out to hide the obvious erection in his pants, too ashamed of himself to say anything that might help him try to salvage this situation.
“Rin- I- no-”
“Altan.”
Her face is flushed and the color is lovely on her, he wants to bite the apple of her cheeks, but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.
… he can’t remember why he can’t.
He tries to conjure the image of terrified, fifteen-year-old Rin to his mind to bring him some clarity but he only manages to make himself more confused.
“... no.”
He sits down again, trying to smother down the dizziness and take back control of the situation. Of his own body.
Of something.
Rin came onto him and they can’t do this although he wants to and she wants to because… because… because-
Rin sits on his lap and gods, his t-shirt rides high on her thighs now and she is wearing nothing under it except for her panties. Altan pants, overwhelmed.
Where the fuck did all the air in the room go?
“Altan, I know you want this.”
She kisses him on the cheek and lets her mouth slip to his ear to lick at his jaw.
“Why don’t you show me what you were thinking about last night, hmm?”
Her hands slip under the collar of his shirt, bold and warm, and start massaging his shoulders.
“I know you better than thinking you care about what anyone else might think about us. It has always been you and me against the world.”
She opens the buttons of his shirt one by one, leaving nail marks after their wake.
“Don’t you want to take what you want for yourself?”
She thumbs the buckle of his belt, making a delicious metallic sound while she opens it.
“Stop being a coward, Altan.”
She slips her hand inside his underwear to find him hard, hot, leaking, and stars burst behind his eyelids.
“What kind of Speerly man are you?”
Altan knows, somewhere, deep down, why they shouldn't be doing this. But with her pressed against him like this, her wicked hands everywhere, her fragrant skin and her sharp, dark words, a mixture of all he wants from her and something much better than any fantasy, all reasoning and logic turn to dust on his tongue, leaving behind only the raging desire to make her his.
“I told you not to speak to me like that, Mai’rinnen.”
Later, he won’t be able to recall this moment with full clarity, won’t be able to put into rational words what was going on in his mind.
But now he has a blazing need to make her shut up, to give her what she wants, to mark her as his, all rolled into one.
He curls an arm around her waist and flips her down on his lap, belly against his legs, while she yelps from the surprise. The movement leaves the t-shirt bunched on her lower back, her ass fully exposed. Two of his fingers move of their own accord to rub against the seam of her cotton-clad pussy. The fabric is soaked and sticky to the touch- she is just as aroused as he is if not more, and knowing that, how could he take a step away from this situation and calm himself down?
He is just a man.
“Is this what you want from me?”
“Yes.” He could chuckle at how she manages to sound defiant while being draped over his lap like a petulant child. There is fire inside her, there is no denying that. He loves that. “And more too.”
He ignores the second part of her answer, but rubs his fingers harder against her, pushing the fabric a bit inside until it takes the shape of her folds.
“Last night, after you so rudely interrupted me, did you go running into your bedroom to slip your little fingers inside your cunt like this?”
He is feverish with both this moment and the memory, the humiliation of being caught in the act was strong, but knowing now that she was into it too…
Gods, it makes him effervescent.
“N-no.”
“No? Then what did you do?”
He gives her a swat on her ass to accentuate his question, a playful thing and nothing more, but she makes a yelp that turns into a moan inside her mouth, and. Again, he does not feel fully rational right now.
He hits her again.
“I asked you a question, Mai’rinnen.”
She squirms in his lap, and Altan moves his hand to hold her better, his fingers pressing against her clit and his thumb rubbing at her entrance.
“I tried to touch myself but... it wasn't good enough. And then I rubbed myself against my chair until I could come.”
That is possibly the hottest thing he has heard in his twenty-five years of life. It sets aflame something inside him, something dark that demands to be fed, that would not accept anything less than that image that is now engraved in his mind.
He hits her again.
“What a filthy thing to do, Mai’rinnen. Never imagined you were such a dirty girl.”
He hits her again, and again, vaguely aware that he is not holding back on any of his strength. She is shaking now and he is almost sure tears are dampening her cheeks and falling on his leg. He doesn't stop. He doesn't know if he can stop.
“Sorry, Altan, I'm sorry.”
Her voice is weepy but her pussy is twitching uncontrollably against his fingers. Her ass is red with his handprints, but that doesn’t make him stop; he uses the impulse of his hand in every hit to push her forward and make her rub against his other hand and clothed leg.
She is so wet he can smell it.
“I don't think you are sorry.”
Her wetness is dripping through her panties and down his hand and seeping through the denim of his jeans. He feels parched only imagining how that damp spot will look later.
“If you were sorry, you wouldn't have tried to seduce me today, am I right?”
She is incoherent now, only able to sob and rut against him, her head shaking one way and the other in contradicting gestures. She doesn’t sound able to form a response. Altan keeps musing out loud.
“Maybe I was too soft with you. Maybe I should have taught you better how to behave.”
He grabs a handful of her ass, the reddened, warm flesh stretching under his fingers, and Rin makes a weeping, broken sound.
“Luckily, it's never too late to teach an insolent brat a lesson.”
He puts more pressure on his hand against her cunt and keeps on smacking her cheeks until her sobs turn into a constant stream of wet moaning. He doesn’t stop until she is not trembling anymore and instead is slack on his lap, her ass dark red. For all sound, she is only letting out tiny whines when he moves.
One of his hands is heated from the impact while the other is glistening with wetness, even though he didn’t touch her under her underwear. Altan brings that one to his mouth and licks his palm. The salty and heady taste lingers in his mouth. Fuck.
Fuck.
What has he done?
Rin is pretty sure she passed out for a couple of seconds, maybe longer, because the last thing she remembers is a constant stream of pleasure interrupted by sharp outbursts of pain, and now she feels fuzzy and warm and… is Altan carrying her in his arms?
By the time she comes back fully to herself, she is lying on Altan’s bed with him pressed tight against her back, the abused flesh of her ass against his rough jeans. She wiggles her ass experimentally and moans when she is rewarded with a delicious burning sensation.
“Look what you made me do, Rin,” he whispers darkly against her neck, and there is not a trace of remorse in his voice. “I was trying to do good for you, but you had to come and fuck everything up.”
“Oh, so it is my fault now.”
If she were capable of thinking clearly, she would think that he is being unfair. But she can't think clearly with his cock nested against her ass and his hands roaming under her t-shirt.
If she were capable of thinking clearly, she would keep her mouth shut anyway because if that is the lie he needs to tell himself, fine, she will take the blame.
But she is not capable of thinking clearly and talking back has always been second nature to her.
“Of course, it is your fault.” He tugs on the t-shirt to leave her collarbone exposed and bites down, marking both her skin and his words. Rin closes her eyes, letting the pain and pleasure drown her senses. “Seducing me and wearing my clothes and cooking for me until I had no choice but to teach you a lesson. I call that fucking things up, Rin.”
She ponders for a moment over the pros and cons of turning around; she wants to see his face badly but how is she supposed to give up the way he is hard and rutting against her with short and sloppy thrusts?
“Not everything is fucked up.”
It takes him a second to realize the challenge in her statement, too busy nibbling at her skin.
“No?”
“Not until you fuck me up.”
Altan groans and pulls on her hips until she is lying flat on her back and he is looming over her, eyes flaming. She has seen him mad before, but never this close, and he is so hot it’s not even fair.
“Don’t you think you are pushing your luck here, Mai’rinnen?”
The shift between the Rin from earlier to him using her full name again makes her dizzy. She is only now realizing she is playing with fire, counting on being able to move her hand away before the flames get too hot.
But maybe she is not as quick as she thought or maybe she doesn’t mind getting burned.
“It’s only pushing your luck if you don’t mean it. And I mean it.”
His nostrils flare and an anxious thing twists itself around the mouth of her stomach, activating both her fear and her arousal. She can see a flash of his teeth, but while being this close she can’t tell if he is smiling or something else.
“Then I will need to punish you.” He doesn’t say it like a threat: he says it like a promise, with a smooth voice that goes straight between her legs.
“Do your worst.”
“Baby girl, you can't handle my worst.”
She wants to die, the pet name is a hook that catches on her belly button and tugs her upwards, her body desperate to regain some friction from him. Altan pushes her back down to the mattress with a hand on her hip, unwavering.
“Try me.”
Altan tightens the hold on her and then kisses her with intention, with the sublimated passion of feelings long time contained, with the fervor that she always knew he held inside him, with his lips and his tongue and his teeth and every other cell in his body.
By the time they break apart her hips are looking for him aimlessly without pause and her brain has put up the “out of order” sign.
He seems to have left his qualms about this situation in the kitchen, right next to her shame, and Rin, emboldened by the kiss and desperate to get more of him, curls her legs around his hips and ruts against his clothed cock.
Altan curses under his breath, eyes indescribably dark, and pushes her apart again. Rin doesn’t have enough time to whine about it because he left his palm against her pubic bone and he is pushing in all the right places. The pliancy from her previous orgasm is starting to wash off and she knows she is already gushing against the tip of his fingers.
“Altan-”
“I think it’s time for you to stop talking, Mai’rinnen.”
They are two pieces of a machine, working in tandem against each other, spurring each other on, building on the shared desperation. That added to the residual heat from yesterday make the inside of her body feel like it is at a thousand degrees,
“Altan… your clothes-”
“I said stop talking.” He turns her around on her belly with a skill that makes her mouth water. He peels himself off her and when she is about to protest, Altan warns her with a hand pressed against her spine. “Don’t move.”
Rin presses her cheek against the sheet and closes her eyes. She can hear the sound of clothes rustling; she is almost sure Altan is acquiescing to her desire even if he verbally dismissed it. The ball of anticipation inside her belly grows.
She would like to see his face but that is part of the thrill of this: to know that she is completely at his mercy, to not know what is going to happen next.
Then she waits. And waits. And waits.
She can hear him breathing evenly near her, but it’s the sole telltale that he is still in the bedroom with her. Rin tries to not let her impatience get the best of her, but after a moment that could be just a minute that feels like a century for her, she starts squirming.
“Altan-”
He probably was closer than she thought, because his hand falls on the top of her spine with a speed that leaves her breathless, pushing until she presses her head against the bed again, his fingers raking down her back after, lingering under the curve of her ass.
“You should see yourself, Rin.” His voice is deep, very much like the way he was moaning her name last night. “I imagine you looked like this on your chair last night. Desperate. Exposed. You got this wet then too?”
His fingers are rubbing around her outer folds, lightly, teasingly, and the sound they make is obscene in the quiet room.
“Yes. Yes.”
“Who told you that you could talk?” He reproaches her even though he asked her a question. His other hand pinches her asscheek, bringing back the pain from the spanking that was starting to ebb away. “Someone who wants to be fucked this badly doesn’t get a say. This soaking wet pussy is doing all the talking for you.”
Rin tries to bite down on the pillow to keep herself quiet, she really really tries, but when he shoves two fingers roughly inside of her, making her legs tremble and her knees bend together, she can’t control herself.
“Altan, please, please.”
He clicks his tongue in disappointment while taking his fingers away and Rin can only whimper against the pillow, scared of doing something else that would make him withdraw even further.
“You never learn, do you, Mai’rinnen?”
He pulls her hips backward, making her back arch, and Rin remembers then that he is naked too and kneeling behind her. His cock is pressed tight against her dripping pussy, and a rush of fresh desire pools in her belly.
“Altan, please.” It’s like she is working on autopilot: she needs him too much to be able to say anything else or to stop talking altogether despite his warnings.
“One of these days, I’m going to show you that you can’t always have what you want.” Her heart races at the implication of a next time, of thinking that this won’t be over after he finally, finally fucks her. “But I want you too much to do it today.”
He slides inside of her pussy with enough force to make her head bob, a disjointed gasp being forced out of her mouth. The burning stretch is painful from the thickness of his cock; the fact that she is insanely wet for him helps, but Altan does not give her respite or time to get used to his size.
“Was this what you wanted, Mai’rinnen? Parading yourself around in my clothes, teasing me with this sinful ass?” She gives him a whine for all reply. After a full day of build-up and the quick and unexpected way things have escalated between them, him fucking her has taken on too much space inside her brain to allow her to form a coherent answer. When Altan speaks again, there is a dark smugness in his voice, “Aw, baby girl, what is the problem? You wanted to talk so badly just a minute ago. Is this more than you can take?”
He thrusts faster and deeper inside her to accentuate his condescension. Every time it starts to feel like her body is accommodating to him, that her juices flowing non-stop are making his movements inside of her smoother and easier, he amps it up a notch.
Rin can’t do much but lay there and take it, her whole body trembling under him.
“N-no.”
“What was that? Louder.”
“It’s not too much!”
She is lying: her whole body is on fire, set aflame from the inside out, desire turned into raw need, burning pleasure blooming every time he enters her again at a relentless pace.
She is not lying: there is thirst in her throat and hunger in her belly and itching in her fingers and she wants everything she can get from him, she wants to bite his lips till blood drips down, and wants to scrub his skin until the softness turns rough, and wants to suck him dry and wants him to be closer, wants him inside her and around her and underneath her own flesh.
He is erasing every coherent thought in her mind and replacing them with an overwhelming urge to keep just being fucked by him.
“Then what do you want, baby girl?”
How can she convey all that she wants in just one sentence, in a handful of words her over-stimulated brain and her dumb tongue can put together?
“I want you to fuck me, daddy.”
His breath hitches and the movement of his hips stills. Rin cries out in protest, a soft, pathetic sound that she can barely recognize as her own. She hadn’t planned for that particular word to come out, but she is not in full control of herself. She feels fuzzy around the edges, too stimulated to think properly, and all her brain can fully process is that she wants him in a feral way that his name can not properly convey.
That word came from her most shameful fantasies, and right now he has pounded every inhibition out of her, allowing it to come out.
After what feels like an eternity of not being fucked by him, finally Altan pinches the fold of her cunt, right next to where his cock is still buried inside of her, and Rin whines, pain and pleasure in equal measure.
“Am I not fucking you well enough? You are such a needy little thing, Mai’rinnen.”
She is stretched taut between two beings, one that needs to please him and praise him, babble about how he is playing her body like an instrument; and another greedy one that only wants to ask for more, more, more, because demanding things from him is what has led her to having this much.
The second one wins, for now.
If he thinks she is needy, she will give him needy.
“Rougher, please.”
His fingers press against her hips with bruising force.
“Please what?”
Oh, so he is into it. Her pussy pulsates at the revelation.
“Rougher, please, daddy!”
For all answer, Altan grunts and tugs on the end of her braid, forcing the arch of her back into an uncomfortable position.
“Maybe I will be able to fuck a good girl out of you yet, little brat, what do you think?”
He waits- now that her head and most of her chest are up in the air- until she nods ardently and then pushes her against the bed again.
“Hands on your ass.” When it takes her a second too long to comply, he releases her hips to grab her wrists and place both on her asscheeks, keeping them spread open. “I will give you rough,” he grumbles under his breath, and he is not lying.
It is a promise; it is a threat. Rin is not sure how he meant it when he starts pounding into her again with a force that makes her lower back burn and her head bounce. It is painful, with the angle and how big he is, but she has already accepted that the pain only heightens the pleasure for her.
What she hadn’t known before this whole situation started was that she was going to be into the humiliation part of it, but it only makes sense: she wants to be everything to him, she wants to be his, and that includes being on display, letting him call all the shots, allowing him to take and take and take.
She imagines how she must look, ass up in the air, pussy stretched and exposed, wetness running down her thighs, and her face heats with sickeningly sweet shame.
She has always been rebellious but, deep down, she believes he always knows what is best for her, and this case is not an exception. It is like he is attuned to every part of her body; he knows when to move faster, when to push her hands apart to open herself up further, when to twist her braid around his wrist again and pull.
She knows he is still talking through it all, but she is too far gone to be able to pay proper attention to what he is saying. She only catches odd words here and there, and whenever praise about how hot she looks or how nice it feels to fuck her, worms itself inside her brain, her pussy clenches around him of its own volition.
Her orgasm takes her by surprise. Ever since he started spanking her she has been riding a sharp hill of pleasure. Her arousal never fully dwindled, because he was always either touching her or fucking her or showering her with his sharp attention that is almost as titillating as his physical touch. Every second got better than the previous one, and that’s why she kept wantonly asking for more, because it felt like there was not a limit on sight for the pleasure she could get from him.
Until he puts a finger inside her alongside his cock and without warning pushes her off the cliff she was trying to keep on climbing. He doesn't stop moving while she spasms around him, crying and moaning his name in a litany that she would find embarrassing from anyone else. He only pulls out when her knees give out on her and she ends up lying flat on the bed in a puddle of her own making, legs twitching, while he comes all over her ass with a groan.
Rin believes she might be dead.
She feels dead, with how heavy her muscles are and how fuzzy her brain is. But then Altan uses his own come to push a curving finger inside her ass and she is definitely alive because dead people can not feel humiliation, pain and pleasure crashing down on them.
“Now you know what will happen next time you decide to go all bratty temptress on me.”
Rin is not sure if what takes her over is another orgasm or a fainting fit, but when she comes back to her senses for a second or maybe third time, Altan is laying next to her on the bed, chest heaving and one of his forearms covering his face.
“We are so going to fucking hell.”
Rin opens her mouth to say something back, but all that comes out is a pathetic little mewl. Altan takes a bottle of water from his bedside table and tilts her chin up to help her take a sip.
“Take it easy. There you go.”
He sounds again like the Altan she has known for so long, serious and caring, and she loves that about him, but that doesn't mean she is willing to let go of the new Altan she just unleashed either.
She drags her sore muscles slowly until she can lay her head on his chest and drape a leg over his hips. He sighs but holds her nonetheless. His skin is warm and smooth and he smells like sweat and sex.
She doesn’t care where they are going, as long as it feels like this.
“If we go to hell, at least we will go together.”
Altan shakes his head.
“Rin, we should talk.”
She pouts even though he can’t see her from this angle.
“No.”
“Mai’rinnen.”
Will she ever be able to hear him say her full name again without automatically getting wet?
Still, his stern tone has the intended effect, or at least she lets him believe it does.
“Fine. We will talk. But later. Nap first.”
It feels like he wants to say something else, but Rin has closed her eyes and in seconds she is barely awake anymore.
“...fine.” She dreams more than feels him kissing the top of her head. “Have sweet dreams, dear girl.”