The door clicked shut behind Damien as he stepped into Eli’s office, file in hand. His shoulders were tight, jaw clenched, eyes sharp with frustration that he didn’t bother hiding.
Eli barely glanced up from his laptop before his gaze darkened. “Come here.” Damien hesitated for half a second—the briefest flicker of reluctance—before obeying, crossing the room in a few tense strides. Eli caught him by the wrist, tugging him close, his other hand snaking around Damien’s waist and pulling him down. Their lips collided—hungry, rough, unapologetic. Damien melted into it, the file forgotten somewhere between them. When Eli finally pulled back, his hand drifted lower, cupping Damien through his pants with possessive familiarity. “What’s wrong with my boy?” he asked, voice a low purr, thumb stroking lazily over the growing heat beneath his palm. Damien groaned softly, frustration bleeding into the edges of his voice. “Crypto trade app… code’s faulty. I have to rework half of it. It’s a mess. I’m—” His words cut off with a hiss as Eli squeezed him gently. “Frustrated. Overworked. Overthinking.” Eli’s eyes gleamed with authority. “Want help getting your head straight?” Damien's throat bobbed. His hesitation wasn’t real—it was routine. A final crack in his resistance. “You offering to… help?” A smirk curved Eli’s lips. His hand drifted up Damien’s shirt, fingers tracing the waistband. “Strip.” The word hung in the air—sharp, inevitable. Damien obeyed seamlessly, peeling off his clothes just the way his body remembered, baring himself inch by inch under Eli’s dark, hungry gaze. Eli circled him like a wolf, slow, inspecting every exposed line, every muscle twitch beneath flushed skin. His hand slid down Damien’s back, palming the curve of his ass possessively before delivering a sharp smack that echoed through the office. “Count.” “One,” Damien whispered, voice already tight with anticipation. Another strike. Another number. Eli’s rhythm was steady, controlled—a punishment, a reminder, a grounding. “Twelve....nggghh,“ Damien moaned. At twenty, Eli’s hand stilled, fingers trailing over the faint heat of Damien’s skin. His voice dropped to a husky murmur. “On your knees.” Damien sank down, the floor cool beneath him, eyes wide, breath uneven. Eli unzipped his pants almost immediately, freeing his excited cock, whis his gaze never left Damien’s face. “Show me how grateful you are.” His voice was molten control. “And while you’re at it… touch yourself. Make yourself come while you earn your release.” The details blurred—heat, breath, the quiet rasp of fabric shifting. Damien’s hand moved obediently to himself, even as his lips closed over Eli with reverent desperation. Damien held the cock in his left hand and lingered his tongue on the slit of the head before wrapping his mouth around it once again. He licked it from the base to the head before taking all of the cock till it hit the back of his throat, while his other hand pumped and teased himself. Eli leaned back against the desk, one hand threading into Damien's hair, the other stroking along his jaw. His eyes stayed fixed on Damien’s flushed cheeks, the tremor in his thighs as he obeyed. The office, the stress, the faulty app—all of it melted under Eli's command. “Good,” Eli breathed, tightening his grip in Damien’s hair, guiding him. “Don’t stop… don’t even think about stopping.” He thrust his hip forward as Damien bobbed his head and hit the back of his throat. Damien faintly gagged and tears glistened in his eyes while his moans vibrated along Eli's cock. The quiet, wet sounds filled the office, tangled with the faintest moans Damien couldn’t hold back as his other hand worked himself, trembling under the weight of Eli's gaze. Eli watched every second—the desperation in Damien’s eyes, the way his body strained under the layered humiliation and pleasure. The submission was perfect. Pure. His. By the time Damien was close, barely holding himself together, Eli’s breath hitched. His grip in Damien’s hair flexed, warning, promising. “Now,” Eli growled, low and sharp. “Come for me.” Damien obeyed, body shuddering, collapsing into pleasure and relief, the tension finally breaking apart like shattered glass. His lips never left Eli's cock swallowing every seed, every ounce of possessive satisfaction as Eli unraveled above him. It took a moment for them both to steady, the only sound their breathing. Eli pulled back, eyes dark with something wicked, something territorial. From the drawer behind him, he retrieved the small, familiar item—cold, gleaming, inevitable. He shoved it in Damien's mouth and asked him to suck on it which Dame did without questions asked. “Turn around,” Eli ordered softly. Damien didn’t think it. He braced against the desk, flushed and spent, as Eli spread his ass cheeks and slid the vibrator into place—firm, possessive, a reminder. His hole moulding around the butt vibrator like it belonged there. “Keep it in,” Eli instructed, helping Damien dress up and then adjusting the clothes for him. “Go finish your work. I want my pretty little programmer focused.” Damien nodded, breathless, the tension gone from his shoulders now. The stress still lingered—but the fog was cleared, replaced with the ache of Eli’s claim. As Damien left the office, Eli leaned against the desk, adjusting himself with a dark, amused exhale. His eyes lingered on the bulge straining against his pants, already hardening again. His tongue pressed to his teeth. He imagined how Damien was going to squirm the moment he put on the vibrator using his phone and how his baby was going to find it difficult to fucking sit down. His erection getting more obvious and hard, he freed his cock and it sprang free. He wrapped his hands around himself and pumped it. His head thrown back as he grunts. In his mind it's still Damien's mouth wrapped around his cock and also the feeling of sliding between his boys welcoming hole. The way it twitched for him and his needy whimpers. The pressure built until he shot his load all over his shirt and table. He chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair. “It won't take long,” Eli muttered to himself, smirking. “I’m going to ruin him properly.”The quiet clink of silverware and soft murmurs filled the candlelit restaurant, but Damien could barely hear any of it. His pulse was pounding in his ears, his cheeks were flushed, and his legs were trembling under the table. It wasn’t from the wine or the heat of the room — it was Eli.Eli's hand was under the table, fingers slow and possessive on Damien's inner thigh, creeping upward with maddening precision. Eli groped a handful of flesh and made Damien gasp and let out a breathy moan.“You’re flushed, baby,” Eli murmured, voice low enough for only Damien to hear. “What’s wrong?”Damien swallowed, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “Eli…” His voice was strained, barely a whisper.The waiter appeared beside them with a polite smile, completely unaware of the quiet war happening beneath the linen tablecloth. Eli didn’t stop. His fingers brushed over Damien’s clothed cock — slow, claiming, unrelenting. Damien’s breath hitched, his eyes wide as the waiter listed the specia
The morning sunlight crept through the curtains, but Damien lay tense, his body curled toward the edge of the bed. His eyes were distant, his expression strained, and Eli saw through it instantly.Sliding closer, Eli pulled Damien gently but firmly between his legs, forcing the smaller man to sit back against his chest.“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Eli asked, his voice low but edged with concern.Damien hesitated for a moment, then the words slipped out, brittle and sharp around the edges. “My family called. Again.”Eli's jaw clenched. He didn’t have to ask what they said—the same venomous reminders they always spat down the line. The same disgust for Damien's existence, his desires, the love he’d found outside their rigid, aristocratic world.“They… they said I’m still an abomination. That they hope I regret… existing like this,” Damien whispered, his voice cracking, shame and fury twisting his features.Eli exhaled through his nose, pressing a kiss t
After the heated encounter in the car, the air between them still crackled with tension as they stepped into the apartment. Damien padded to the bathroom first, eyes heavy, limbs loose from exhaustion and pleasure.Eli followed, his large frame crowding the smaller space as he peeled off Damien's clothes, his touch lingering with quiet possessiveness. He helped him clean up, fingers trailing over flushed skin, his nipples, down his stomach, brushing along sensitive spots that made Damien shiver and press into him—his asshole, that was previously filled with Eli's cum. Eli pushed his index finger past the ring of muscle and curled it in Damien drawing a loud moan, unsteady breaths and staggering feet.“Daddy,” Dame moaned.Eli chuckled but continued his mission.After he was sure that Damien's ass had no more cum in it, then he proceeded to Dame's shaft. He lathered his palm with soap and wrapped it around the shaft and pumping it while he bent down to Eli's ears and whispered, “
The elevator doors slid shut, sealing them inside. Damien immediately pressed himself against Eli, raising himself on tippy toes and burying his face in the crook of Eli’s neck, his body trembling with need.“Eli…” Damien’s voice was a breathy plea, filled with desperation. “I—I can’t… it’s too much…”Eli’s hand slid down his back, steady, grounding. The quiet hum of the vibrator inside Damien never let up, constant and maddening.“Be a good boy,” Eli whispered against his ear, voice calm and firm. “Endure it.”Damien whimpered, his grip tightening around Eli’s jacket, his entire body aching for more, for relief, for something to break the unbearable tension curling through him. Eli making things worse grabbed his ass and massaged it, the action causing the vibrator to press against his prostate. He bit down on his lip to muffle his moans a bit.By the time they crossed the building’s entrance and stepped into the cool night air, Damien’s face was flushed, his legs uns
Damien sank cautiously into his chair, shifting his weight, trying to ignore the constant, intrusive pressure between his legs. The Vibrator wasn’t just there—it was impossible to forget. Every movement sent a subtle pulse of sensation radiating up his spine.He winced, adjusting himself again, only to realize there was no real way to sit comfortably. His thighs tensed, his hips rocked subtly—but nothing helped.Just as he finally stilled, the low, sudden hum of vibration pulsed to life inside him.A sharp gasp escaped his lips. His eyes flew wide, fingers gripping the edge of the desk as the sensation shot straight to his core, igniting his nerves like fire. The toy pressed right against that maddening spot—his body arching involuntarily, the chair scraping quietly beneath him.“Damn it, Eli,” Damien hissed under his breath, jaw clenched, face flushed.The company email on his screen blurred as he fumbled for the phone. His thumb jabbed at the call button for Eli, heart
The door clicked shut behind Damien as he stepped into Eli’s office, file in hand. His shoulders were tight, jaw clenched, eyes sharp with frustration that he didn’t bother hiding.Eli barely glanced up from his laptop before his gaze darkened. “Come here.”Damien hesitated for half a second—the briefest flicker of reluctance—before obeying, crossing the room in a few tense strides.Eli caught him by the wrist, tugging him close, his other hand snaking around Damien’s waist and pulling him down. Their lips collided—hungry, rough, unapologetic. Damien melted into it, the file forgotten somewhere between them.When Eli finally pulled back, his hand drifted lower, cupping Damien through his pants with possessive familiarity. “What’s wrong with my boy?” he asked, voice a low purr, thumb stroking lazily over the growing heat beneath his palm.Damien groaned softly, frustration bleeding into the edges of his voice. “Crypto trade app… code’s faulty. I have to rework half of it.