Chrysalis Corporation

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Chrysalis Corporation Page 32

by T. A. Venedicktov


  “You can be free and still trust me. You can be free and not listen to them. You can be free and listen to me without being a slave.” Damion nuzzled the love bite.

  “Yet you ask me to obey only you, as do the Creators.” He cut his words short as he planted his hands under himself, pushing his torso up again in pleasant surprise as further glorious feelings sparked through his body. “How is that not a definition of a slave?” His last words ended in a quiet groan.

  “Now you get fucking mouthy,” Damion growled and moved his mouth to bite Requiem’s ear while his hips moved faster.

  Whimpering, Requiem trembled at the hot breath and the arousing sharp pain in his ear. Sounds of panting filled the space around them, emerging from both men equally. “I do not mean to be. It was merely an honest question.”

  His words were broken, interrupted by silent cries. His eyes slid closed, his lips parted as harsh breaths escaped him. Requiem moved to brace his hands against the wall under the bookcase, pushing him back against Damion, pushing Damion farther inside so that Requiem could feel the head of Damion’s cock deeper than he’d been penetrated before.

  “For someone who doesn’t remember, your body definitely does, because you want more, I can tell. And you’re feeling good. Just like I promised.” Damion reached around and grasped Requiem’s hardening erection, giving it a stroke.

  An involuntary cry left Requiem’s lips, but he choked it off as quickly as possible. Damion’s rapid stroking increased the amazing feelings filling him, and his arms trembled with exertion as he pushed back against Damion’s thrusts that led him into Damion’s callused grip. Requiem’s body felt like it was bathed in sparking fire and increasing pressure that originated from his groin and spread throughout. “Damion…,” he breathed out, not able to say any more.

  “Fuck.” Damion groaned and began to thrust deeper, harder, even faster.

  The sounds of skin slapping on skin, sighs, moans, and grunts overwhelmed Requiem’s ears while other feelings overwhelmed his mind and body. The heat was building higher and higher in his groin and his breaths came in hurried gasps, exhaling almost as soon as he could breathe in. Damion’s hand on his cock followed the pace of his pounding into Requiem, occasionally stuttering as he was overcome with pleasure, but still constant. White spots began to appear behind Requiem’s closed eyes, and he let out a soft whimpering moan.

  Damion let out a loud roar of completion, emptying his pleasure into Requiem’s tight passage. He slumped forward, letting go of Requiem’s shaft to put his arms out to the sides so that he wouldn’t collapse onto Requiem’s shaking body.

  Requiem let out a soft moan as he felt Damion filling him. Hot, wet semen flooded his insides to the point that no more would fit. It bubbled out of him around Damion’s cock, dripping down his thighs and slicking his tight sac. Damion’s breath on his neck and his sweaty, slicked skin sliding against Requiem’s back caused him to shiver more, along with the heavy weight still hanging between his legs that dripped his wantonness onto the sheets. He didn’t say anything, merely panted as the sparks on the inside of his lids faded away with the lack of stimulation.

  “That feel good?” Damion slipped his still half-hard cock gently out of Requiem’s come-filled channel and rolled to his side, giving him a perfect view of Requiem’s raging hard-on. “Want help with that?”

  Nodding, Requiem collapsed back on his haunches, still holding himself up with his elbows as his whole body throbbed with neglect. He distantly felt Damion’s pleasure leaking out of him even more and onto his thighs, making his skin slick.

  “Come here.” Damion pulled Requiem toward him with a soft touch. “I’ll jerk you off but I want to see your face when you come.”

  After falling on his side, his back toward Damion, Requiem immediately but shakily flipped onto his back so that he could comply with the Fighter’s orders. His breaths were still coming out quickly, but not as much as before as he started to cool. He opened his eyes.

  “Tell me how you feel.” Damion reached down and began to stroke the slightly curved erection. The precome and sweat made Requiem’s firm flesh a little slippery, plus lube always seemed to get everywhere.

  Requiem let out a choking gasp, his eyes fluttering closed and then opening again as his lips parted in a pant. “I… do not… know.”

  “Yes, you do, just think about it for a minute.” Damion moved closer and began licking Requiem’s neck, pressing his thumb against a thicker vein.

  Requiem ended up pressing his hands against Damion’s chest; not pushing him away, but there was some pressure against Damion as Requiem squirmed. “I… hot, g-good. Pressure and heat,” Requiem finally responded between pants and low moans.

  “It will feel even better here in a few seconds.” Damion increased the movement of his hand. He stopped talking and started to bite whatever skin his mouth could reach.

  Requiem realized that he would soon be covered in bruises and red-rimmed bite marks, but he didn’t really care. That increased, fiery pressure was back and the pleasure-pain from Damion’s teeth nipping sharply at his skin only made him more sensitive. He couldn’t help his squirming or the moans and whimpers that escaped his parted lips. The pleasure was growing more and more intense.

  “Damion….”

  “I think you like it because the pain reminds you of jacking in.”

  Damion spoke as he pulled his lips away from Requiem’s skin to look down at his face. Damion’s large hand engulfed Requiem’s cock. Requiem glanced down. The shaft in Damion’s touch strained purple with need.

  “Just let go and come,” Damion rasped.

  It seemed as if that was what Requiem was waiting for—a command. At Damion’s words he did let go, letting the roaring heat overwhelm him and the white spots take over his vision as his mouth opened in a silent cry. He clenched the sheets as his muscles went taut, ejecting his pleasure over his chest and Damion’s hand.

  Requiem’s head fell back, panting, eyes glazed, his body twitching in aftershocks. He merely lay there for a few moments, unable to speak as random sparks of pleasure flitted through him, occasionally making him twitch. Eventually he let his head slip to the side, his gaze meeting Damion’s as he licked sweat from his lips. “I will hold on to the memories this time,” he said quietly.

  “You had better make that promise worth your life, because I can’t do this shit again,” Damion said in a warning tone. He could not lose Requiem again and not lose his mind. The idea frightened him more than death.

  “I do. I cannot lie to you, Damion. If I say something, it is the truth. I will fight to hold on to these memories. That would mean defying the Creators, and for that they would terminate me. So yes, it is worth my life.” He sat up, managing not to wince as the endorphins slowly disappeared, letting him know about every ache and pain all over his body. “You say that you cannot do this again, but you do not think about where I have been. While you have been dealing with the Core that I am supposed to be, I have watched you from within my own mind slowly slip away from what I know you can be.” He didn’t look at Damion as he said these words, and all of them were hard to get out.

  “What the hell is that all about?” Damion reached out and grabbed Requiem’s upper arm, “You think it was easy on me? I don’t know what you were going through because you didn’t tell me!”

  “I did not say it was easy for you. I know it was not, but there was nothing I could do.” Requiem concentrated on the end of the bed, his eyes wide and unblinking. “And I could not—cannot—tell you. A barrier was broken tonight, which is the only reason I am able to speak to you as I am doing now. But I do not know how long it will last. I am telling you what I can, while I can.”

  “You mean if I had just thrown you down and fucked you into tomorrow, then a lot of this shit between us could have been averted?” Damion shook his head.

  “No, it was not that specifically. It was a combination of you ordering me to obey only your orders, and the Creators demanding th
e same.”

  “I swear the gods have a sense of fucking humor and lately it’s at our expense. What now? Are you still going to report everything I say to the Creators?”

  “My inability to follow either of those commands, since they contradicted each other, is what eventually loosened the compulsion.” Requiem was very aware of Damion’s tight, bruising grip on his arm. “I do not know what happens now.”

  Damion tossed himself back against the bed, letting his arms fall to his sides. “You are a fucking handful.”

  Requiem was silent for a moment, his gaze slowly shifting to his hands in his lap. “Do you wish to be free of me? I could do as the Creators ask and choose another Fighter if that is what you wish.”

  “I’m only going to say this probably about ten more times in the next few hours, but you’re mine. As much as I don’t want you to be a slave to them, I also want you to be your own person again. That isn’t saying I can help my own… need to have you. I had thought about leaving and just starting over back on Mars.” Damion’s laugh was not amused, only tired. “I even thought about stealing you away like some really bad cheesy romance novel and trying to survive, but don’t ask me how I thought I could make that work. What I know is we’re together in this huge mess. If they take you away again, I’ll probably go mad and kill a room full of Creators before going down.”

  Requiem looked over his shoulder at him. He didn’t say it, but they both knew the Creators would take him away again at one point or another, and then they would both end up dead. It was only a matter of time. Requiem’s personal mantra—nothing is impossible—could only go so far and stand for so much. Without saying anything, Requiem lay back down, ignoring the mess on his chest and stomach and what was on the bed in favor of curling his cold body against Damion’s warm one.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Damion turned on his side and draped an arm around him. “We’ll figure this out. As long as you keep fighting them, we can work on hiding in plain sight. At least for now.”

  “What is there to say? I may only do so much with the constraints on me,” Requiem mumbled into Damion’s chest. “I will fight as long as my mind can hold out. But I cannot make promises that I do not know if I can keep. That would be too close to lying.”

  “They don’t seem to take you away if I’m around, except that one time after you had your dream.” Damion brushed back Requiem’s hair. “We just have to cut your supplements back, but you can’t stop taking them altogether this time. 108 has been taking only half his doses and they haven’t caught him yet. But I don’t know why, and neither does Juni.”

  “I do not think that is wise at this point in time. We are already under suspicion, and if we go even slightly against regulations, it will merely increase suspicion and we cannot afford that type of scrutiny at this time. We must not give them any reason to bring me in for another session.” Requiem sat up, slipping out of the warmth of Damion’s arms. “May I take a shower?”

  Damion laughed. “Why do you want a shower if you’re going to get dirty again anyway?”

  “I am?” Requiem blinked slightly over his shoulder at Damion.

  Damion sat up and wrapped his arms around Requiem’s chest, pulling him close. “I want to do it again, don’t you?”

  Requiem’s eyes slid closed as he shuddered slightly at the heat of Damion’s skin against his back and around him. “I would… not be averse to the idea.”

  “You could just say ‘Yes, Damion, I like your big dick.’” Damion laughed and turned Requiem around so he could kiss him once more. “Never want to take this for granted again.”

  Damion’s lips stopped Requiem before he could respond. He arched his head back so that Damion could reach his mouth, and let out a sigh of contentment as Damion’s warm tongue slipped past his lips to battle with his own. Slowly, he slipped long fingers through Damion’s hair and stopped at the base of Damion’s skull and held him.

  When Requiem removed his hand from Damion’s hair at last, Damion placed Requiem back down to the bed again, all the while trying to kiss him, running his hands up and down Requiem’s body.

  Warmth filled Requiem from the connection of their mouths, warmth he only ever felt when Damion touched him. He placed hesitant palms on Damion’s ribs, his fingertips tightening and relaxing against the muscled flesh.

  “You feeling good?” Damion asked as he pulled away for air, staring down at Requiem.

  “Feelings… emotions…. You taught me them once… did you not?” Requiem thought his fingers had a mind of their own as they played over Damion’s skin.

  “Yeah, took me months, and in a day they were all stripped away.” Damion dipped his head down to bite into the other side of Requiem’s neck, opposite from the mark he had already made.

  Requiem let out a choking cry, his fingers biting deep into Damion’s sides in shock and pain. But for some reason that pain sent a shot of pleasure straight to his groin. It was brief, but there, as he squirmed under Damion’s grip.

  Damion licked at tender areas and up Requiem’s neck. “Go ahead, make a little noise.”

  “I… cannot.” Requiem panted as his neck throbbed in remembrance. “At least, not much. We are taught to be silent in our pain, so as not to disturb our Fighters or the Creators. It is something that is bred into us very young. I let some out when I am with you, but the rest is hard.”

  “I am telling you that you’re free to make as much noise as you want or need to.” Damion gave a little tug to Requiem’s hair.

  Requiem merely looked at him for a moment and nodded. Damion didn’t understand that it was something that he just couldn’t do, that he had been taught for as long as he could remember not to, and he was punished when he did. When he screamed, yelled, or cried, he was punished because it was a sign of emotion and emotion made you weak. But he let Damion know that he understood he had permission. He just wouldn’t use it.

  Requiem leaned up and pressed his lips against Damion’s, hesitating as he ran his tongue along the lower lip.

  Feeling Damion’s startlement, Requiem immediately pulled back, looking up at him, searching for disapproval. “Did I do something wrong? I apologize if I stepped over a boundary.”

  “No, you were fine. You can do that again any time you want.” Damion’s grin spread from ear to ear in happiness. He moved so he was between Requiem’s legs, spreading Requiem’s long limbs apart.

  “Acknowledged,” Requiem replied softly before doing so.

  Requiem liked this thing called kissing. It made him warm inside, made him feel wanted for himself alone: for more than just his mind, his abilities, or even his body.

  Damion began to stir once again. His hands trailed down Requiem’s smooth skin to his firm ass, giving it a squeeze.

  Following Damion’s movements with half of his attention, Requiem bent his knees so that they were planted on either side of Damion. The movement raised his ass just a little off the bed, allowing Damion whatever access he wanted. Remembering how Damion liked to hold him, with some hesitation Requiem wrapped his arms around Damion’s body. He held him loosely in case Damion did not like it. He could let go right away if he had to.

  Damion rocked his hips forward, but his hot flesh never penetrated, only slipped along the cool, sticky skin for the first few moments. Their rush to claim each other had been mostly sated during their first round.

  Damion finally reached down and guided his erection to Requiem’s entrance. When Damion rocked forward this time and entered him, the warmth contrasted with the coolness of Requiem’s skin made Requiem’s heart ache. As Damion pushed himself deeper and deeper, he kept kissing Requiem and swallowing his silent moans.

  Requiem’s arms tightened around him as soon as Damion was inside, an instant reaction to their connection. This time there was no pain, only pleasure, as he had already been stretched by their previous activities. This time his moan was muffled by Damion’s mouth, tongue, and hot need. Requiem trembled with immediate pleasure, curling his toes i
nto the mattress beneath them.

  But it wasn’t the same. He wanted more somehow, so he shifted to try to find it. Only when he wrapped his legs around Damion’s waist did he find it, and he had to pull away from the devouring kiss to suck in enough air to gasp as Damion slipped deeper into him.

  Damion pushed his fingers through Requiem’s hair, his hips surging forward. It was perfect.

  Requiem’s eyes were hooded as they met Damion’s, idly intrigued at the suddenly softer expression on Damion’s face. He wondered what it meant for a moment, until the hard heat sliding in and out of his body ran over that perfect spot inside him and he closed his mouth quickly, with a click of his teeth, to hold in the scream that threatened to spill out. It felt so… good. He knew—somewhere inside him—he knew he had felt this before and was still amazed that something could feel so pleasurable.

  Damion’s hips kept moving as if he were trying to elicit more noises from Requiem. This was what Requiem had needed the last few months, even if he hadn’t known it. This man right here in his arms and wrapped around him.

  Hesitantly, since he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, Requiem moved his hips to meet Damion’s, increasing the noise of their slapping skin. He was also curious about what might get an increased reaction out of Damion. Raising his head, his hot pants falling sporadically on Damion’s lips, he lightly grazed his teeth along the lower lip while clenching his body at the same time.

  “Damn!” Damion screamed and his hips snapped forward more forcefully. “If you do that too much, I’m going to come too soon.”

  Requiem let out an involuntary squeak at the driving force inside him, gasping to catch his breath. “But is that not what you wish to do?” he asked in a shaky voice. His skin was warm and he was aroused, he could feel sweat trailing over him as they moved together. He appreciated hearing Damion yell out like that. Not in anger or harshness but because he felt good. It had a different tone that made Requiem’s skin crawl with pleasure.

 

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