You crowded behind me and bit my shoulder. It was a better kind of burn, more familiar. The scent of my blood stirred me, and I sawed through my own lower lip to taste it too. Your fingers crawled deeper inside me while your tongue lapped at my cut.
“Give me your mouth,” you said.
I turned and we collided in a mess of hot tongues, sharp teeth, and metallic blood. Heat lashed through my veins, a fiery bloodlust that lit up my nerves and tuned my senses to the hunt. I wanted to bite.
“Ready now,” I said, breathless. I didn’t know if it was a question or a statement. And I couldn’t tell whether this burn was good or bad, but I preferred it to what came next. Your absence was the worst kind of grief.
“Henri.”
“Almost.”
Another wet sound as your palm glided over your cock, rhythmic and controlled, like when you sharpened your sword. It glistened and jutted from your pelvis like a weapon, weighted from its own girth. You noticed my attention and slowed your hand so that I could see every inch of you with perfect clarity. Sturdy and thick with swollen, branching veins. Your foreskin was drawn back tightly, accentuating the size of your cockhead, red and swollen like a cherry. Sweet, hot blood rushed just beneath your skin. I sucked in my lower lip, bit down again. I wanted to fuck. And feed. And explode all over you.
You let go of your shaft, and the weight of it slapped against me. My balls tensed, and my asshole throbbed.
“You look worried.” A smile tugged at your lips while your fingertips traced along my ribs.
“I’m not,” I lied.
“Then why are you squirming?”
“Because you’re tickling me.”
Your hands were on me again, stroking, caressing, preparing me for another kind of torture. You rimmed my entrance with oil and lined yourself up.
“Unclench, my darling,” you said with seduction—cheating—then pushed against me with a pressure that burned like the corona of the sun, more and more, until your blunted head sunk all the way inside. My sphincter spasmed around your girth like a fish’s mouth, and I willed myself to give into it, until the sting dulled to a pulsing ache, and my body seemed resigned to it. You pushed again, slowly, and I dug my heels into the rocky bottom of the pool while your thick shaft rubbed me raw. This was what you’d meant by mounting me. The slow, single-minded siege of one body overtaking another.
“Exhale,” you reminded, and the breath I’d been holding onto left my lungs in a whoosh. I was dizzy and disoriented as you bore into me, inch by brutalizing inch. I felt a trickle of blood snake down my thigh. How much more of you was there to take? My labored pants and your own harsh breath were the only sounds. Even the dybbuks were silent.
“You’re quiet,” you said, hands stroking along the soft part of my side.
“I’m concentrating.”
“You’re bleeding, my love.”
“I’ll heal.”
You groaned and the onslaught continued, until your cock rubbed against my prostate with a pleasure so intense my knees buckled, and you had to brace me until I found my footing again. I swore softly while my organs shifted to accommodate you. My palms were sliced open from gripping the rock ledge so tightly, but I only dug in more, welcoming that sharp sting. I moaned and you answered with one of your own, deep and rich.
“You feel wonderful,” you said. “Let me make it wonderful for you.”
Slowly, by degrees, you began to move. I tried holding my ground while you surged forward, even pressing backward so you’d know I could take it, but I couldn’t match your strength.
“Hold me down,” I said.
Your fingertips bruised my hips as you forced me back against you. You snapped your pelvis then and pleasure lanced through me like a snake bite, then coiled with a heated heaviness in my balls.
“Right there,” I said, tearing up because it was so good. “Do that again.”
A few more pumps made me nearly delirious, and then your strong arm wrapped around me and dragged me back to where you rested against the low shelf, still partly in the water. I straddled your thighs, still gored by your cock and feeling everything a body could—blood rushing through my veins, your slick chest heaving against my back, your grunts of pleasure as they ricocheted