Chapter 62: Aerial Claiming
Pete gasped, the air raw in his throat, as Karn lifted himself off. The sudden emptiness was shocking, a void where overwhelming heat and pressure had been. Sweat slicked his skin, plastering dark hair to his forehead, his chest heaving. Karn stood above him, gloriously nude, breathing hard but visibly in command, a predator surveying his capture. His eyes, dark and intent, scanned Pete’s sprawled form before locking onto the discarded cluster of clothes near the sofa.
He bent, movements fluid and economical, retrieving something Pete hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t part of the promotion gift box. Cold dread prickled down Pete’s spine as Karn straightened, holding a thick, black leather collar. Even in the dim city-light filtering through the windows, Pete could see the heavy silver buckle and, chillingly, the engraved plaque: PROPERTY OF K.T.
"Karn..." Pete breathed, the word catching. He instinctively tried to sit up, but Karn placed a firm hand on his chest, pinning him back to the leather. It wasn't rough, but it was immovable.
"Shhh," Karn murmured, his thumb brushing Pete's collarbone, just above the silk lanyard. "Just making it official." The leather felt cool and surprisingly heavy against Pete’s throat. Karn fastened the buckle snugly, not painfully tight, but unyielding. Click. The sound was final. Pete felt it constrict slightly with every swallow. Then Karn attached a gleaming chain leash to the heavy D-ring at the front, the links cold against his skin. The chain pooled on Pete's chest like a metallic serpent.
Without a word, Karn straddled him again, knees sinking into the cushions on either side of Pete’s hips. He grasped the chain near Pete’s collar, using it for leverage as he lowered himself back onto Pete’s still-hard cock. The sudden, tight heat made Pete cry out, arching off the sofa. Karn's own groan was deep, satisfied. He began to move immediately, riding Pete with firm, deep strokes, setting a demanding rhythm. His eyes never left Pete’s face, watching the play of shock and building pleasure.
"Look at you," Karn breathed, his voice rough with exertion and something else – awe? Possession? "Mine." He punctuated the word with a sharp downward grind that forced another gasp from Pete. Karn tightened his grip on the chain. "Up," he commanded, pulling upwards, forcing Pete’s head and shoulders off the sofa. Pete strained against the collar’s pressure, panic flaring. "Kiss me," Karn demanded, leaning down, his lips hovering inches away.
Pete pushed upwards with his arms, the muscles in his neck burning against the leather as Karn pulled the chain, bringing their mouths crashing together. It was a desperate, messy kiss, tasting of salt and champagne and Karn. Pete felt Karn’s inner muscles clench rhythmically around him as they kissed, the dual sensation overwhelming. Karn broke the kiss only to breathe, his forehead pressed to Pete’s, his hand still fisted in the chain. "Good. Now... lift me."
Pete blinked, confused. "Lift...?"
"Lift me," Karn repeated, his voice low and urgent. "With this." He shifted his weight slightly, grinding down onto Pete’s cock. "Keep me up. Keep me filled. Don't you dare slip out." The challenge was clear, impossible. Karn released the chain and slid backwards off the sofa, planting his feet firmly on the floor. He kept himself impaled, Pete’s cock buried deep within him. "Push up with your hips," Karn instructed, a dangerous edge to his voice. "Lift me off my feet. Now."
Trembling, Pete braced his feet flat on the floor near the base of the sofa. He pushed upwards with his hips, a strained groan tearing from him. Karn’s weight was substantial, all lean muscle. Pete felt the incredible, almost unbearable stretch deep inside Karn as he raised him, inch by painful inch. Karn tilted his head back, a low moan escaping his lips as Pete lifted him entirely, his toes barely brushing the floor. Pete held him there, suspended on his cock, the muscles in his thighs and core screaming in protest. Karn felt impossibly tight, impossibly hot.
"Perfect," Karn gasped, eyes blazing with triumph. He reached above his head, fingers fumbling for a moment before finding what he sought near the ornate canopy post: a heavy-duty carabiner attached to a short chain dangling from the overhead rigging point. With a swift, practiced motion, Karn clipped the carabiner onto the ring at the end of Pete’s leash.
Click.
The chain snapped taut. Pete felt the collar bite more sharply as Karn’s full weight was transferred from Pete’s straining body to the chain and the rig above. Karn hung suspended now, his body held aloft only by the chain connected to Pete’s collar and the anchor point where Pete’s cock was buried deep inside him. Karn’s legs dangled, completely unsupported.
"Prove it, property," Karn taunted, breathless but exultant. He locked his ankles loosely behind Pete’s back. His eyes bored into Pete’s, reflecting the cold moonlight streaming in through the vast windows. "Prove you can keep me airborne."
The demand was brutal. Pete had to thrust to keep Karn suspended, the movement forcing Karn’s body to rise and fall solely on his cock. There was no leverage, no support beyond the straining muscles in Pete’s hips and thighs and the rigid length inside Karn. Pete gritted his teeth, sweat stinging his eyes. He pushed up with his hips, driving himself deeper, feeling Karn’s weight resist then yield. Karn’s head fell back, a choked cry escaping him as Pete pulled back slightly before thrusting up again, harder. The chain rattled violently with each powerful upward surge, a harsh metallic counterpoint to their ragged breathing and Karn’s sharp gasps. Karn rode the thrusts with brutal precision, meeting Pete’s upward drive, his body undulating in the air. Pete could see the cords straining in Karn’s neck, the sweat sheening his chest, moonlight catching the droplets as they rolled down their sweat-slick skin. The chain rattled incessantly now, trembling with the force of Pete’s efforts and Karn’s suspended weight. Pete’s world narrowed to the burning in his muscles, the impossible heat and friction engulfing him, the rattling chain, and Karn’s dark, commanding eyes locked onto his. Karn gasped, his voice tight with exertion and pleasure, "That's it... harder... show me... who owns you... who you hold up..."
The chain screamed with each desperate thrust, metal links biting moonlight as Pete drove upwards. Karn’s suspended body absorbed the punishing rhythm, his choked cries blending with the frantic rattle overhead. "Harder!" Karn gasped, his voice shredded, nails digging into Pete’s sweat-slicked shoulders. "Give me everything! Now!"
Pete’s vision whited out. Muscles screaming, spine arching off the leather, he slammed upwards one final, brutal time. A raw shout tore from his throat as heat exploded through him, pulsing deep into Karn’s clenching heat. The release was seismic, draining every ounce of strength, leaving him trembling violently beneath Karn’s suspended weight.
Karn shuddered, a low groan vibrating through them both as he felt Pete’s climax. His own release painted streaks across Pete’s heaving stomach. The chain went abruptly slack as Karn’s legs gave way. Pete collapsed backwards onto the sofa, Karn landing heavily atop him, still impaled, both breathing in ragged, shattered gasps.
Slowly, bonelessly, Pete slid sideways off the sofa cushions onto the cool marble floor, Karn clinging to him like a limpet. Karn didn’t dismount; he simply shifted, settling fully onto Pete’s lap, Pete’s softening cock still nestled inside him. Karn rested his forehead against Pete’s collarbone, the engraved collar cool between them. His breath fanned hot and damp over Pete’s skin.
Silence stretched, thick with spent energy and the scent of sex and leather. Karn lifted his head slightly, his eyes searching Pete’s tear-streaked, exhausted face. His thumb brushed away a stray droplet tracing Pete’s cheekbone. "So?" Karn murmured, his voice rough but unexpectedly soft. "First time with me. How was it?"
Pete blinked, focusing slowly. Karn’s face swam into view – intense, beautiful, utterly spent. A fresh wave of tears welled, blurring the city lights behind him. He swallowed hard, the collar pressing against his Adam’s apple. "Splendid," he whispered, the word thick with emotion. He managed a shaky, utterly genuine smile. "Utterly... splendid."
He shifted slightly, wincing at the ache in his muscles and the sticky mess cooling on his skin. "C'mon," Pete mumbled, nudging Karn gently. "Let's... let's take a shower." He gestured vaguely towards the en-suite bathroom door visible across the vast room.
Karn tilted his head, a flicker of genuine confusion crossing his features. "Why?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly. He made no move to get up, his weight still warm and solid on Pete’s lap and softening cock. "Comfortable right here."
Pete blinked back at him, baffled. "Because... we're covered in... everything?" He gestured weakly at their joined bodies. "Sweat. Champagne. Come. Floor grime?"
A slow, predatory smile spread across Karn’s face, erasing the confusion. He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of Pete’s ear. "Oh, Pete," he breathed, his voice dropping to a velvet purr that sent shivers down Pete’s spine despite his exhaustion. "Did you really think we’d finish just once tonight?" His hand slid possessively down Pete’s flank. "The night’s young, property. And I’m far from done claiming what’s mine."
Pete froze. Karn’s smile widened. He shifted his weight, grinding down slightly, drawing a faint whimper from Pete as sensation sparked unexpectedly in his oversensitive flesh. Karn’s lips found Pete’s ear again, his breath hot. "Tarn warned you, didn’t he?" Karn whispered, low and intimate, his teeth grazing Pete’s earlobe. "About letting me take the lead?" His tongue traced the curve of Pete’s ear. "About what happens when I decide I want something?" Another slow, deliberate grind. "He knows me. Knows my stamina." Karn’s hand slid lower, fingers tracing patterns on Pete’s inner thigh. "Knows how thoroughly I take what belongs to me."
The whispered promises continued, detailed and relentless, painting vivid pictures of what Karn intended as the hours stretched towards dawn. Each husked word, each subtle movement of Karn’s body still seated on Pete’s lap, stoked a terrifying, exhilarating mix of dread and desire. Pete felt the ache intensify, a deep, helpless yearning warring with the sheer impossibility of responding again so soon.
Karn described positions, sensations, the specific sounds he wanted to pull from Pete’s throat. He whispered about the collar staying on, about the chain having other uses, about the harness suspended above the bed waiting for its turn. He spoke of dawn breaking while Pete was still pinned beneath him, utterly claimed. The sheer scope of Karn’s appetite, the casual certainty in his whispered plans, finally crashed over Pete.
A strangled scream ripped from Pete’s throat, echoing off the penthouse windows – not of pain, but of dawning, horrified comprehension. This was what Tarn meant. This was the eternity of tears his brother-in-law had gleefully predicted. Karn Thorne didn’t just take the lead; he consumed it entirely, leaving nothing behind but the echo of his possession and the certainty of endless, exquisite surrender. Karn chuckled softly against Pete’s ear, the sound vibrating through him, a promise and a sentence rolled into one. The first pale streaks of dawn began to bleed across the skyline.
The first pale streaks of dawn began to bleed across the skyline, painting the penthouse in cold, grey light. Karn hadn't lied. He hadn't stopped. Not once. Pete lay sprawled on the cool marble floor, the leather collar still locked tight around his throat, the engraved "PROPERTY OF K.T." plaque pressing into his skin. Every muscle screamed, a deep, hollow ache radiating from his core, concentrated fiercely in his utterly spent cock. It felt scraped raw, emptied beyond comprehension.
Karn stretched languidly atop him, muscles rippling under sweat-slicked skin that seemed to glow in the weak morning light. He rolled off Pete with effortless grace, landing lightly on his feet beside the wreckage of Pete’s body. Karn inhaled deeply, chest expanding, a picture of vibrant renewal. He looked utterly refreshed, energized, like he’d just woken from a perfect night’s sleep, not spent hours relentlessly riding Pete into oblivion.
"Ah," Karn sighed, rolling his shoulders, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Morning." He glanced down at Pete, who hadn't moved a muscle except for the shallow, ragged rise and fall of his chest. Pete’s eyes were open but unfocused, staring blankly at the intricate pattern on the ceiling high above. Dried streaks of sweat, champagne, and multiple releases crusted his skin. "Whoa," Karn chuckled, nudging Pete’s limp thigh with his bare foot. "You look like absolute hell, Riverton. Like something crawled out of a grave and died again. What happened to you?"
Pete tried to turn his head. It felt impossibly heavy. He tried to speak. Only a dry, rasping wheeze escaped his cracked lips. He couldn't remember how many times Karn had wrung climaxes from him. He’d lost count after the third, maybe fourth time Karn had climbed back onto him, demanding more, taking more. He remembered the chain rattling overhead, Karn’s weight suspended, the brutal thrusts required to keep him airborne. He remembered Karn flipping him onto his stomach, pressing his face into the leather sofa, riding him hard from behind. He remembered being pushed against the cold glass wall again, Karn’s relentless rhythm driving him into the unyielding surface. He remembered Karn whispering filthy promises, commands, affirmations of ownership that echoed endlessly through the night. He remembered the sensation of Karn milking him dry, over and over, until there was nothing left but dry, painful spasms.
His cock felt like lead pipe filled with sand. Empty. Used up. Utterly drained. He managed a feeble groan.
Karn tilted his head, feigning concern poorly. "Cat got your tongue, property?" He nudged Pete again, harder this time. "C’mon. Use your words. What’s the matter?"
Pete summoned every ounce of willpower left in his shattered body. He dragged in a shuddering, painful breath. He tried to push himself up onto his elbows. His arms trembled violently, muscles screaming in protest. He managed to lift his head maybe an inch off the cold marble. His vision swam, the penthouse tilting dangerously. "K...Karn..." he gasped, the single syllable tearing his throat raw.
Then his arms buckled completely. His head thumped back onto the unforgiving floor with a sickening crack. He lay utterly still, eyes rolling back slightly, breath coming in shallow, desperate pants. He was done. Finished. A hollow shell.
Karn watched him collapse, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across his face. It wasn't cruel, exactly. It was the satisfied smile of a conqueror surveying territory definitively claimed. He looked down at Pete’s broken form, the collar gleaming dully in the dawn light, the chain still attached lying coiled nearby. "Right," Karn murmured, his voice light, almost cheerful. He stretched again, a picture of vitality. "Shower time." He turned without another glance, his bare feet padding softly across the vast expanse of marble towards the en-suite bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him. The sound of running water started a moment later. Pete lay motionless on the floor, staring at the ceiling, listening to the water, feeling the cold marble seep into his bones, utterly spent and profoundly owned.
The shower's hiss was the only sound besides Pete's ragged breathing. Cold marble leached warmth from his bare skin where he lay sprawled, every muscle screaming. He stared blankly at the vaulted ceiling, replaying Karn’s whispered threats against the backdrop of running water – positions, sensations, dawn breaking while pinned. Tarn’s voice echoed in his exhaustion-fogged mind: "Brother-in-law, you let Karn take the lead? Prepare for an eternity of tears!" He’d laughed it off then, thinking Tarn was just teasing about Karn’s work intensity.
A sharp thump against the shower door made Pete flinch. Karn’s voice sliced through the steam, unnervingly clear and cold. "Whatever cozy little warning my cousin whispered in your ear, Riverton? Forget it." Water sluiced louder. "Last night was mercy. A gentle reminder." Another thump, harder. "Tarn sneaks into our space, into your head again?" Karn’s voice dropped to a lethal purr Pete could hear over the water. "Consequences will make last night feel like a fucking spa day. Understood?"
Ice flooded Pete’s veins, colder than the marble. How? Karn couldn’t possibly know he’d just been thinking about Tarn’s words. Unless… unless Karn knew everything. Saw everything. Pete’s gaze darted wildly around the opulent, exposed penthouse – the harness dangling, the chain coiled on the floor, the vast windows reflecting the pale dawn. Trapped. Watched. Owned. A choked whimper escaped him.
The shower door slid open violently. Karn stood framed in steam, water cascading down his powerful frame, eyes like chips of obsidian fixed on Pete’s prone form. No trace of the post-coital languor remained; only predatory focus. "Well?" Karn demanded, stepping onto the wet marble, leaving gleaming footprints. "Do you understand the rules now, property?"
Pete scrambled backwards on his elbows, the collar biting his throat, chain rattling. "I—I wasn't—" he stammered, voice raw.
"Don't." Karn closed the distance in two strides, crouching beside him. Water dripped onto Pete's chest. His hand shot out, fingers digging into Pete's jaw, forcing eye contact. "Lie to me." The command was a physical pressure. "That farm boy plants doubts? Tries to shield you?" Karn’s thumb pressed painfully against Pete’s pulse point. "You forget who owns this." His other hand grabbed the chain attached to the collar, yanking it taut. Pete gasped as his head was jerked forward. "Tarn breathes near you again," Karn hissed, leaning so close Pete felt the steam on his face, "and I'll bury him so deep in a Red Tag trench, his own mother won't find the body. Is that clear enough?"
Terror, pure and absolute, seized Pete. Karn meant it. Every word. The casual brutality in his tone, the utter certainty – it wasn't a threat; it was a statement of fact. Pete saw Tarn’s cheerful face, heard his laughter, imagined him vanished, broken, discarded like trash. Because of him. Because he’d dared let Tarn’s concern linger. "Clear!" Pete choked out, the word tearing from him. "Crystal clear, Karn! I swear!" He clawed weakly at Karn’s wrist where it gripped his jaw. "No Tarn. Never. Just you. Only you."
Karn held his gaze for a long, terrifying moment, searching for any flicker of deceit. Finding none, the brutal grip on Pete’s jaw eased fractionally. The chain slackened. A slow, chilling smile touched Karn’s lips, devoid of warmth. "Good boy." He released Pete’s face entirely, standing tall, water still streaming down his body. "Prove it." He nudged Pete’s thigh with his wet foot. "Crawl."
Hands trembling, muscles shrieking protest, Pete pushed himself onto his hands and knees. The marble felt like ice beneath his palms. He shuffled forward, the chain dragging behind him, a heavy, metallic whisper against the stone. Each movement was agony, a fresh humiliation layered over the deep ache Karn had already carved into him. He stopped at Karn’s feet, head bowed, breath shuddering.
Karn looked down, water dripping from his chin onto Pete’s back. "Still mine?" he asked softly, his toe nudging Pete’s utterly spent, limp cock where it hung between his thighs.
"Yes," Pete whispered, the word thick with submission and terror. "Always yours, Karn. Only yours."
Karn’s fingers tangled roughly in Pete’s sweat-damp hair, pulling his head back. Not gently. A claiming. "Remember this feeling," Karn murmured, his voice dropping to a near-silent rasp that vibrated through Pete’s skull. "Every time Tarn smiles at you." His grip tightened. "Remember who you belong to." He released Pete’s hair with a final, dismissive shove. Pete slumped forward, forehead touching Karn’s wet foot, the chain pooling beside him. The silence stretched, broken only by Pete’s shaky breaths and the relentless drip of water from Karn’s body onto the cold, hard floor.