Chapter 43: Watch Me
He leaned close, his lips brushing the coarse hair of Luke’s ear, and whispered. The sound was swallowed by the room, but the effect was immediate. A loud, low chuckle vibrated through Luke’s chest, a sound of genuine, dark amusement that seemed to make the very air crackle.
Luke turned his head slowly toward Nancy, his grey eyes now sharp and cold as flint. “I let you live,” he said, his voice a flat, dead thing that carried more threat than any roar. “For years. You know why? Because it’s hard to cut out your own mother. Even a cancerous one.”
Nancy’s eyes darted, the frozen hold on her allowing only that minute movement. A flicker of panic, deep and primal, finally broke through her fanatical calm.
“But you crossed a line today.” Luke continued, sitting up straighter, Scott still nestled against him. “You tried to use your little toy to make me rape and murder the one good thing in my life. You wanted to see him scared of me again. You wanted to break that.” He nodded down at Scott. “So you need to see what you actually fear. It’s not me becoming a god. It’s you losing every shred of control over me.”
He shifted Scott gently aside and stood, his hybrid form still towering, all primal power and lethal grace. “I’m going to show you how little control you have.”
He lay back on the rumpled bed, the mattress groaning in protest under his weight. He pulled Scott on top of him, settling the younger man so he was straddling his hips, Scott’s ass rubbing deliberately against the formidable bulge straining against Luke’s shorts. The casual intimacy of the gesture was a weapon in itself.
Scott looked down at him, a small, defiant smile touching his swollen lips. He bent and kissed Luke’s forehead, a tender, slow press of his mouth. Then he began to work his way down. He kissed the bridge of his nose, his sternum, the dense, grey-furred plane of his stomach. Each kiss was a deliberate punctuation in the silent room.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of Luke’s shorts. He pulled them down just enough to free Luke’s erection, which sprang up, thick and heavy, the flushed head already beading with moisture. Scott didn’t hesitate. He lowered his head and licked a long, wet stripe from the base to the tip, swirling his tongue around the crown.
“Fuck, rabbit,” Luke groaned, his hand coming up to thread through Scott’s hair.
Scott took him deeper into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks, working his tongue along the throbbing vein on the underside. He worshipped the shaft with a focused hunger that was entirely his own. Then Luke’s hand guided him lower, pushing his head down firmly until Scott’s nose was buried in the heavy, musky scent of his balls.
Scott obliged gladly. He nuzzled the tight sac, then took one weighty orb into his mouth, suckling gently, laving it with his tongue before moving to the other. The obscene, wet sounds filled the quiet cabin. Nancy made a strangled noise in her throat.
When Luke pulled him up, Scott’s lips were slick and parted. Luke flipped them with effortless strength, pressing Scott into the mattress. He didn’t use his hands. He lowered his head between Scott’s thighs, and his tongue, broader and rougher than a human’s, laved over Scott’s entrance. It wasn’t gentle. It was a claiming, a brutal, wet preparation that stretched and probed, making Scott cry out and arch off the bed, his fingers scrabbling at the sheets.
“Ready for me?” Luke growled against his skin.
“Yes, Daddy, please,” Scott gasped, the old title falling from his lips without a trace of irony, only need.
Luke positioned himself, the broad head of his cock pressing insistently at Scott’s loosened hole. He didn’t ask. He pushed in. It was a brutal, single, deep thrust that seated him to the hilt, punching the air from Scott’s lungs in a satisfied sob.
Then he fucked him. It was rough, hard, a relentless piston drive that shook the bedframe. Each snap of his hips was a declaration. This was his. Scott was his. Love wasn’t soft here; it was this, this overwhelming possession, this complete consumption. Luke’s body enveloped Scott, a fortress of muscle and heat and dark intent, shielding him from the ghost in the doorway, from the world, from everything but the feeling of being utterly claimed.
“You feel that?” Luke snarled, his pace never faltering, each word grunted into Scott’s ear. “That’s me. That’s all me. Not her. Never her.”
Scott could only nod, choked moans torn from him with every impact. The pleasure was a white-hot wire, pulled taut from his ass to the base of his skull. He came with a shattered cry, his body clamping down around Luke’s driving cock, stripes of release painting his own stomach and chest.
Luke rode him through the convulsions, then buried himself impossibly deep. A raw, primal howl erupted from him as he emptied himself into Scott’s clenching heat, pulse after hot, flooding pulse. He collapsed for a moment, his weight a crushing, welcome comfort.
But he wasn’t done. Scott felt him, still hard, still impossibly full inside him. Luke pulled out, Scott’s oversensitive flesh clenching around nothing, come leaking onto the sheets.
“Up,” Luke commanded, his voice gravelly with renewed lust.
He stood, pulling Scott up with him. He turned Scott around, bending him over, then lifted him easily, his arms under Scott’s thighs, Scott’s back against his chest. He guided his cock back into Scott’s used, dripping hole and began to fuck him again in this carrying position. Each powerful lift and drop impaled Scott deeply, the wet slap of Luke’s balls against his ass a lewd, rhythmic counterpoint.
“Daddy,” Scott moaned, his head lolling back against Luke’s shoulder. “Oh God, Daddy, right there.”
From the doorway, Nancy made a sound of pure disgust. Scott turned his head, his vision blurred with pleasure, and looked right at her.
“He makes me feel safe,” Scott panted, the words interspersed with gasps as Luke pounded into him. “He protects me. I love your son. Thank you. Thank you for giving him to me.” He let out a sharp cry as Luke hit a devastating angle. “All the forms of him.”
The love talk, the gratitude aimed at her, acted like a spur. Luke’s thrusts became rougher, more dominant, a punishing rhythm that was pure ownership. He bit at Scott’s shoulder, not breaking the skin, but a firm, possessive warning.
“Gonna come again, Daddy, I’m gonna—” Scott’s warning was cut off as his body seized, a second, dry, wrenching orgasm ripping through him, wracking him with tremors.
Luke pulled out at the last second. He set Scott down on shaky legs, spun him, and dropped to his knees. He took Scott’s still-twitching cock in his hand, stroking him twice, three times, milking the last drops from him.
Scott’s eyes held a cold, flat light Luke had never seen before. It was the stillness after the storm, a terrifying calm. He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of Luke’s ear, and whispered his idea. Luke listened, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow, dark smile spread across his still-monstrous features.
He turned his head toward the doorway where Nancy stood frozen. “You wanted a show, Mother? You wanted to see the monster? Let’s give you a better view.”
With a wave of his hand, the invisible force pivoted her rigid body, turning her to face the bed. He didn’t release her paralysis, but he allowed her head to move just enough, her eyes to track the scene. Her breath came in frantic, shallow pants through her nose, her pupils dilated with a fury that had no outlet.
Luke stood up from the bed, his hybrid form imposing and dominant. He looked down at Scott, who was already moving. There was no hesitation, no further trauma in his movements—only a deliberate, cold purpose. Scott slid off the mattress and knelt on the rough wooden floor between Luke’s legs.
He looked up, meeting Luke’s grey eyes, seeing the man perfectly in control within the powerful body. Scott’s hands reached for the thick cock that hung heavy and half-hard against Luke’s thigh. He ran his fingers along the hot, thick length, feeling the pulse of life within it. He leaned forward, his tongue pressing a wet, deliberate stripe from base to tip.
A low groan rumbled in Luke’s chest.
Scott took him into his mouth, slowly, savoring the weight and the taste of skin and salt. He worked him with a focused, loving intensity, his tongue swirling around the head before taking him deeper, his lips stretching wide. One hand cradled Luke’s balls, heavy and full, while the other stroked the base. He worshiped him with his mouth, a tender, obscene act performed under the gaze of pure malice.
Luke’s hand came to rest on the back of Scott’s head, not pushing, just holding. He watched Scott’s lips slide along his shaft, his own breath beginning to shorten. His gaze flicked to his mother, to her horrified, enraged eyes. A possessive, dark pride swelled in him.
“See how he loves me?” Luke growled, his voice thick. “See what you tried to destroy?”
Scott hollowed his cheeks, sucking harder, his moans vibrating against Luke’s flesh. He pulled off with a wet pop, panting, and dipped his head lower. He licked a broad, slow path over Luke’s scrotum, taking one testicle into his mouth to suck and tongue gently before moving to the other. He nuzzled the sensitive skin behind, his actions achingly intimate.
“God, you taste so good,” Scott murmured, his voice husky and raw against Luke’s skin. He returned to the head of Luke’s cock, now fully erect and leaking, lapping at the pre-come with a hungry swipe of his tongue.
Luke’s control snapped. His hips gave a minute thrust, a shallow push into the warmth of Scott’s mouth. The hand on Scott’s head tightened in his hair. “Fuck, rabbit… that’s it…”
His other hand gestured sharply toward Nancy, forcing her eyelids to remain open, her head to stay perfectly aligned. She was made to witness every flick of Scott’s tongue, every slurping sound, every worshipful glance upward.
Luke’s breath hitched. A deep, guttural tremor started in his core and worked its way up. His back arched, his massive shoulders tensing. “Gonna come,” he warned, his voice a ragged snarl.
Scott took him as deep as he could, his throat relaxing, his eyes watering. He looked directly at Nancy as he did it.
Luke’s roar shook the cabin’s very foundations, a sound of pure, unbridled release. He pulsed thick, hot ropes of come that painted the back of Scott’s throat. Scott swallowed eagerly, but the volume was too much, too fast. It spilled from his lips, cascading over his chin in thick, white streams. Luke kept roaring, his orgasm seemingly endless, drenching Scott’s face, his neck, his chest.
When the final spurt lessened, Scott pulled back, gasping. Luke’s release coated his eyelashes, dripped from his nose, filled his open, panting mouth. He licked his lips, tasting himself and Luke mixed together. “So good,” he slurred, grinning through the mess. “You always taste so fucking good, Daddy.”
With a tenderness that contrasted violently with the scene, Luke reached down. He used his own thumb, surprisingly gentle, to wipe the worst of the mess from Scott’s eyes. He then carefully cleaned Scott’s cheeks and chin, his touch almost reverent. Scott nuzzled into the caress, his own hand coming up to catch a stray drop on his finger, which he sucked clean with a satisfied sigh.
Luke looked from Scott’s blissful, marked face to his mother’s ravaged one. Something feral and final ignited in his eyes. He bent, hooked his hands under Scott’s arms, and lifted him from the floor as if he weighed nothing. He tossed him onto the bed with a controlled force that made the frame screech in protest.
“Round three,” Luke stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. He climbed over Scott, his body a cage of heat and muscle.
The bed began to shake immediately, a violent, rhythmic trembling that rattled the headboard against the log wall. Each thrust was a powerful, driving piston that shoved Scott up the mattress. Scott wrapped his legs around Luke’s waist, his heels digging into the small of Luke’s back, urging him deeper.
“Fuck! Oh, God, right there!” Scott cried out, his head thrown back. He turned his face, his glazed eyes finding Nancy’s frozen stare. A wild, defiant smile touched his spit-smeared lips. “You see?” he panted, each word punctuated by a brutal drive of Luke’s hips. “See how fucking insatiable he is? You tried to make him a weapon… but this… this is what you gave him!”
Luke’s rhythm changed, his angle shifting minutely. He leaned forward, altering the depth, and then he found it—that perfect, devastating spot inside Scott that blurred all lines between pleasure and pain.
Scott’s back arched clear off the bed. A broken, shattered sound tore from his throat. His dialogue dissolved into pure, desperate sound. “Ah! Ah, fuck! Daddy! Daddy, please! Right there, oh god, right fucking there!” His hands scrabbled at Luke’s back, clawing at the muscle. “Don’t stop! Ruin me, please, ruin me!”
Luke fucked him through the screaming, through the babbling, through the raw, sobbing pleas. He was a force of nature, relentless, his own pleasure a secondary objective to the total claiming of the man beneath him. The cabin was a drum of their violence, every joint groaning, dust sifting down from the rafters.
With a final, earth-shattering roar that seemed to bend the very air, Luke buried himself to the hilt and came. Scott felt the hot, intense flood fill him, a shocking fullness that had him coming untouched a second later, his own release painting his stomach in weak, pulsing stripes.
Luke held himself there, throbbing, for a long moment. Then he pulled out with a wet, loud pop that echoed in the sudden quiet.
Scott collapsed, boneless, a leaking, trembling mess on the soaked sheets. His spent cock twitched against his belly. He couldn’t form a coherent thought.
Luke looked down at him, his expression a complex mix of savage possession and profound love. He leaned over, kissed Scott’s sweaty forehead, a gesture of shocking gentleness. Then he turned his head.
His eyes settled on Nancy. All softness vanished, replaced by an ancient, implacable cold.
“It’s time to finish this,” Luke said, his voice devoid of all emotion. “I wanted to be kind. I thought banishment, exile… but you’ll always come back. You’ll always come for him.” He stood, his movements fluid and powerful. “That needs to be eliminated.”
He walked to the doorway, grasped Nancy by the arm, and simply dragged her. Her paralysis broke into thrashing, screaming resistance, but against his strength, she was a doll. He pulled her through the cabin, her shoes scraping across the floorboards, her screams turning to curses, then to raw, animal fear.
Scott struggled up. He pulled the top sheet from the ruined bed, wrapping it around his soiled, sticky body. He followed, his legs shaky but determined, leaving a trail of their mingled fluids on the floor.
Luke flung the front door open. The afternoon light was blinding after the cabin’s gloom. Liv and Michelle were there, their faces pale with fear, their hands glowing with aborted spells. They saw Luke, saw Scott following behind wrapped in a sheet, saw the terror in Nancy’s eyes.
“Luke? Scott?” Liv called, her voice trembling with relief and confusion.
Their relief lasted for only a second.
Luke shoved Nancy forward onto the gravel clearing. He took a step back, his form already shifting, growing, expanding. The air around him warped and crackled with suppressed energy. His skin darkened again, his limbs elongated, his torso broadening. He didn’t stop at his hybrid form. He grew past it, taller than the cabin, taller than the surrounding pines.
His body became a mountain of muscle and shadow, hundreds of feet tall, blotting out the sun. His head was a monstrous visage, jaws lined with teeth like swords, eyes like burning coals in the deep pits of his skull. He was a primal god of hunger given form.
Liv screamed. Michelle stumbled back, her jaw slack.
Nancy scrambled to her feet, looking up at the colossus that was her son. She turned to run, a pathetic, stumbling flight toward the tree line.
Luke bent. A hand the size of a truck swung down. His fingers, like ancient oak trunks, closed around her. He lifted her kicking, screaming form high into the air, bringing her level with his cavernous maw. His lips peeled back, saliva dripping in thick, viscous strands that fell to the earth like hot rain.
He tossed her in.
Her screams were instantly muffled, then silenced. They heard a single, wet, crunching sound. Then, nothing. A faint bulge traveled the length of the god-creature’s throat, descended into the vast darkness of his chest, and was gone.
Luke shrank. The process was rapid, like water draining. In moments, he stood before them in his human form, naked, breath fogging in the chill air. He was just a man again, standing in the quiet clearing.
Scott walked up to him, the sheet pulled tight around his shoulders. He leaned into Luke’s side, saying nothing. Liv and Michelle stared, their faces ashen, their understanding of the world irrevocably shattered.
Luke looked at the empty space where his mother had been. Then he looked down at Scott, tucked against him, and finally at his friends.
“It’s done,” he said, his voice hoarse but utterly final.