Chapter Text
“See how much he likes that?” Stede sounds way too fucking smug, where he’s sat all neat and proper by the bedside, still fucking dressed up in his fancy fucking silks and fuck, you’re going to die.
This is how you die.
“Yeah…” And frankly, you don’t know if death will come in the guise of Stede’s infuriating (but also dead sexy) confidence, or if it will sound like that. Like Izzy speaking all soft and as if he’s the one having the air knocked from his lungs over and over again and –
“Shitfucking Christ!” You swear you’ve pulled a muscle from the way your back arches, sharp and sudden.
Izzy doesn’t falter, his solid body a firm weight on your belly, he rides you like a bucking horse. But, like, all wrong. He’s facing away from you, so all you can see is his broad, solid back, all scars and ink and your fucking hands are tied behind your back, and you really, really want to grab his tits right now, like they’re the only fucking thing that can save you from the torture of his thick fingers rubbing firm circles over your prostate.
You swear you can feel his pulse from where his pussy is pressed against your abdomen.
He’s so wet.
“Ed, dearest, are you close?” Stede’s voice sounds closer now, he’s standing by the head of the bed, next to where you’re breathlessly cussing up a storm.
“Fuck you, Stede, am I close, what the hell do you think?” You turn to glare at him, but your hair is plastered all over your face, sticky with sweat and tears.
“Hm, Izzy, what do you think?” Stede sounds like they’re just talking about their heading, or what to have for lunch, and it shouldn’t be a turn-on, it really shouldn’t, but here you are, whining and gasping and begging with every ounce of your being for more. For release. For mercy.
Izzy chuckles, less soft than before. Mean. Your dick throbs where it lies, untouched and dripping obscenely. “I think he’s not gonna come until I touch his cock.”
The ”And I’m not going to do that until you tell me” goes unspoken.
“Hm,” Stede muses, voice light and airy. “Well, that’s a shame, isn’t it?”
You manage to swipe the hair from your face just in time to see him walk back to his chair and sit down.
“Keep going, Izzy.”