Chapter 2: The Breaking Point
Denver's hips bucked into Bryan's grip, a helpless, instinctive motion that made his teeth grit even as his cock swelled harder. He hated the way his body moved without permission, the way his thighs spread wider when Bryan shifted his weight, the way his breath came in wet, shallow pants against the calloused fingers working his shaft.
"Look at you," Bryan murmured, his voice a low, dragging rasp that vibrated against Denver's ear. "Still trying to fight it. But your body knows what it wants, doesn't it? It's been knowing for weeks."
Denver turned his head away, jaw clenched, but Bryan's free hand caught his chin and forced his face back. The grip was firm, unforgiving, tilting Denver's head up until he had no choice but to meet Bryan's eyes. The deep brown of them was almost black in the dim light, pupils blown wide, hooded with a hunger that made Denver's stomach flip.
"Ask me nicely," Bryan said, his thumb stroking the swollen head of Denver's cock, smearing precome in a wet, obscene circle. "Ask me to use your mouth. I promise it'll feel better than anything you've ever known."
Denver's breath caught in his throat. The words hit him like a physical blow, and his cock jerked in Bryan's grip, betraying the shock that froze his face. He opened his mouth to tell Bryan to go fuck himself, but what came out was a thin, reedy sound that might have been a whimper.
"No?" Bryan's eyebrow arched, and the thumb pressing against Denver's slit pushed harder, just short of pain. Denver's hips twitched, his balls drawing up tight against his body. "You're sure about that? Because your cock just pulsed hard enough to paint your stomach if I let go. Your ass is grinding against my thigh like a bitch in heat."
"Fuck you," Denver rasped, but the words came out weak, almost pleading.
Bryan leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of Denver's ear. His cock, thick and hot through the fabric of his shorts, pressed against Denver's hip, and the contact made Denver's breath shudder out of him.
"You want to know what I'll do to you?" Bryan's voice dropped to a whisper, rough and filthy. "I'm going to feed you every inch of this cock. You're going to taste me on your tongue for hours. And you're going to thank me for it."
Denver's throat worked, his tongue darting out to wet his lips without his permission. The thought was obscene. It was wrong. He was supposed to be the one on top, the one pinning Bryan down and making him beg. But his body wasn't listening to any of that anymore.
His mouth opened, and what came out wasn't a refusal.
It was a cracked, desperate "No one's ever... I've never..."
Bryan's eyes flared with something hot and predatory. His grip on Denver's chin gentled, just a fraction, and he stroked the line of Denver's jaw with his thumb.
"Never had a cock in your mouth?" Bryan's voice was quiet, almost reverent. "Never tasted a man who wanted you that bad?" He leaned down and dragged his lips across Denver's, not quite a kiss, just a brush of heat that made Denver's whole body shudder. "Then let me be the first. Let me be the only one who ever gets to use you this way."
Denver's pulse hammered in his throat. His cock ached, throbbing against his stomach, leaking a steady trail of precome that pooled in his navel. Every instinct screamed at him to shove Bryan off, to flip the script, to finally win this stupid game he'd started.
But his hands, pinned at the wrists, didn't move. His legs, tangled with Bryan's, stayed spread. And his lips, parted and wet, waited for Bryan's next command.
Bryan smiled, slow and hungry, and released Denver's wrists. He pushed himself up, straddling Denver's chest, and yanked his shorts down in one rough motion. The thick, heavy length of his cock sprung free, swollen and flushed, the head glistening with precome.
"Open your mouth," Bryan said, the command dark and absolute. "Wide."
Denver's throat worked. His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out the sound of his own ragged breathing. The sight of Bryan's cock was overwhelming, thick and heavy, the swollen head dark with blood, slick with precome that caught the dim light. He could smell him, musk and salt and something raw that made Denver's mouth water against his will.
"I said open." Bryan's voice dropped, harder now, the patience bleeding out of it. His hand tangled in Denver's hair, gripping tight enough to sting, and tilted his head back further. "Don't make me ask again."
Denver's lips parted. A thin thread of saliva connected them for a moment before it snapped. His hands, free now but useless at his sides, curled into fists against the concrete floor. Every instinct screamed at him to bite, to shove, to finally fight back. But his body had already surrendered. His tongue darted out, tracing the seam of his own lips, and he saw Bryan's eyes catch the motion with a dark, hungry satisfaction.
"That's it," Bryan murmured, guiding the head of his cock against Denver's lower lip, pressing just enough to make the contact undeniable. "You don't have to do anything. Just open up and let me use you."
Denver's jaw trembled. His eyes met Bryan's, and for a second, something almost like defiance flickered there. Then his mouth opened, wide and willing, and Bryan pushed inside.
The taste hit him first, salt and skin and the faint bitterness of precome, and Denver made a sound that was half gasp, half moan. His tongue flattened against the underside of Bryan's shaft, the weight of it heavy and foreign and wrong in all the best ways. He didn't know what to do, had never done this before, so he just lay there, mouth stretched, eyes watering, letting Bryan slide deeper.
"Fuck," Bryan breathed, the word rough and reverent. His hips pushed forward, sinking another inch past Denver's lips. "That's it. Take it slow. You feel how thick I am? How full your mouth gets?"
Denver's eyes fluttered shut. He couldn't deny it. The stretch in his jaw, the press of Bryan's cock against his tongue, the weight of it on his palate. It filled him completely. His hands came up on their own, gripping Bryan's thighs, not to push but to steady himself, and Bryan's breath caught at the touch.
"Look at you," Bryan growled, his fingers tightening in Denver's hair. "Four weeks of wrestling and you're finally where you belong. Got your mouth wrapped around my cock like you were made for it."
Denver's eyes opened, wet and glassy, and the shame in them was almost enough to make Bryan let up. Almost. Then Denver's tongue moved, an awkward, unpracticed swirl against the head, and Bryan's hips jerked hard enough to push deeper into his throat.
Denver gagged, tears spilling down his cheeks, but he didn't pull away. He gripped Bryan's thighs harder and took it, willing his throat to relax, wanting to be good. The word felt foreign, but his body understood it.
"You want it deeper?" Bryan's voice was a ragged whisper above him. "You want to feel me in your throat, baby?"
Denver's eyes burned. He nodded, a tiny, desperate motion, and Bryan groaned, low and filthy, before his hips pushed forward.