Chapter Text
The fight was a nice challenge just by the merit of facing more than one opponent at once. Though they no longer fought with feral souls, their style was still in character. Calixte was careful to avoid Honey’s venom tipped knives and lance. One had barely nicked him in the arm and his heart was already beating out of control. For the most part, he had the fight in the bag. They weren’t as much a threat as before, after all.
But for just one moment, Vamp landed a good hit with her whip and managed to wrap him in binds. He fell to one knee with a grunt, watching with apprehension as Vamp muted her microphone so that the audience couldn’t hear her next words. Then, she leaned down to his ear.
“People have been talking about you and the Tyrant. Did I ruin your dream, hm? Was he supposed to take you right here before the whole crowd?” She gripped his chin between her fingers. “He’s probably watching right now, you know. Thinking the same thing.”
Calixte blushed bright red at the image her words evoked. Combined with Honey’s venom, hot arousal flushed through his veins.
“It seems Vamp Fatale has switched off her mic!” Metem’s voice rang through the arena. “What could she be whispering in the champion’s ear? How many of you all wish to hear?”
Honey jumped forward to bring down her lance on Calixte. Despite the distractions of his body, Calixte summoned a burst of strength. He threw his weight back to yank on the binds, loosening Vamp’s grip, and rolled out of the way.
“Oh ho! But her taunts are ineffective as the Champion expertly avoids their assault!”
Calixte couldn’t help flickering his gaze to the stands as if he could possibly spot the Tyrant at the moment.
“Eyes up here, sweetie,” Vamp Fatale said into her reactivated microphone as she launched another attack.
Calixte focused on his instincts and all his combat ability. Aroused as he was, it only fueled the heat of the battle. In just a few minutes, he incapacitated both opponents.
“Amazing!” Metem exclaimed. “There you have it, folks! Your grand champion overcomes yet another hard fought battle!”
Calixte smiled and waved at the roaring crowd. With an exaggerated bow, he made his way off stage. As soon as he exited the arena, he leaned against the nearest wall, gasping for breath. Venom burned through his veins, making his head spin. The rush of the battle was quickly fading and overtaken by lust. Heat and blood flowed south. As a few staff members entered the backstage, Calixte darted for the elevator. He tried not to lean too much against the cool metal walls, and took deep breaths. There were still cameras everywhere.
Every second he felt his body warming further, arousal becoming harder to ignore. Vamp’s words rang in his burning ears, her touch igniting his skin. Calixte almost whimpered as he entered the greenroom. There he was. The Tyrant rose from one of the couches and regarded Calixte with a smug look.
“Looks like you had a rough time out there.”
“I still won, didn’t I?” Calixte muttered as he beelined to the bar for a cold glass of water. He gulped down half of it and eyed the Tyrant. “You were watching?”
“I was. It is only prudent of me to study my opponents.”
“Is that why I keep running into you?”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say last time you were seeking me out.”
Calixte struggled to keep his composure as The Tyrant approached, coming much too close. His eyes held less animosity than when they were in public view. Curious, instead. Calixte shifted his weight in a nervous motion, hesitant. There were signs, but he wasn’t sure. Especially with a venom-addled mind.
“Maybe. I was thinking about seeing if you’d be interested in going on a hunting job with me sometime.”
He held his breath as the Tyrant drew closer, and in the same motion reached past him to fill up a glass of his own. Sharp eyes stared at him as he drank slowly.
“Hm. A date?” he asked plainly.
“Erm—! It doesn’t have to be,” Calixte stammered with wide eyes.
The Tyrant stepped into his space, hands on the bar on either side of Calixte, his arms caging him in. Calixte’s heart beat thunderously in his ears, arousal spiking.
“What exactly did Vamp say to you?” he asked in a low tone. Calixte caught the slightest hint of something bitter in his voice.
“N-Nothing.”
The Tyrant’s gaze bore into him, sweeping down his body. Calixte blushed as he hoped the hem of his halfrobe was enough to conceal the evidence of his desire. Sure, he wanted very much to be fucked over this counter right now, but the venom was making him worried he’d do something he’d regret.
“I was wondering why she kept bringing you up. Seems a prize was waiting for me all along.”
He leaned closer, and Calixte swallowed. His breath grew labored at the radiating body heat, eyelashes fluttering.
“Didn’t think you’d be so eager to be taken.”
Calixte shuddered. “I’m not!” he almost whimpered, petulant. “The venom…”
“Venom?”
“Honey’s venom. You know how it works.”
The Tyrant raised one eyebrow. “When she used her feral soul, aye. She hasn’t replicated the same effect yet.”
“What?” Calixte blinked, a spark of lucidity cutting through.
“It only increases the victim’s body heat and heart rate. Merely a distraction to throw an opponent off balance.”
“Oh.”
“What else do you think you’re feeling?” The corner of his lips curled up in amusement.
“I— Uhm.”
Incredible horniness?
Calixte's ears burned like a pair of embers. He didn’t really know how to answer the question without further adding to his mortification. Not that it mattered as all his brain capacity grinded to a halt. The Tyrant’s lips were an ilm away. Calixte reached out with one quivering hand, touching bare chest, the skin smooth and hot over tough muscle.
“Push me away if you don’t want this,” the Tyrant murmured. “You’re more than capable of that.”
He was right. Calixte could easily overpower him. But he really didn’t want to. Would much rather feel the Tyrant pinning him down. So he tilted towards him instead, breath mingling.
Their lips barely grazed when a racket echoed from the main entrance hall. Calixte pulled back, eyes darting to the door.
“Not fond of an audience?”
“Are you?”
“Depends.” The Tyrant nodded towards the elevator. “My gym’s on one of the upper floors.”
“Romantic,” Calixte snorted. He gasped as the Tyrant grabbed him under his thighs and picked him up. Large hands squeezed around the tops of his stockings and exposed skin. He nearly let out a squeak when his erection brushed up against the Tyrant's abdomen. “Hey! I can walk!”
The Tyrant chuckled, dropped him after a short distance, and pushed the button for the elevator. They managed to slip away just as the greenroom door opened. Calixte sighed in relief, though his desire had not subsided in the slightest. The floor numbers counted up at a snail’s crawl. Subtle as he could, he pressed his thighs together, feeling the strain in his panties. The Tyrant was leaning on the wall away from him, checking something on his tomestone.
“Gym’s empty, as usual,” he said and grinned at him. “See something you like?”
Calixte blushed, having just realized he was ogling. He looked down deliberately at the tent in the Tyrant’s pants.
“Yes.”
When he met his eyes again, the Tyrant appeared ready to consume Calixte whole. The elevator chimed and they stepped out onto a small landing. Looking through the glass entrance, past various exercise equipment, Calixte stifled a laugh.
“Is that a throne?”
Near the end of the room was a large red and white seat, a wide monitor hanging from the ceiling a few yalms before it, and even a stretch of plush red carpet. A large banner with a behemoth-like insignia hung on the wall behind it.
“What did you expect?” The Tyrant said as he opened the door. But judging by his tone, even he was a bit amused. “I don’t actually use this gym much. It’s more of a promotional piece than anything.”
“You don’t? That’s a shame,” Calixte mumbled, picturing the Tyrant sitting up there or working out… Or other activities. His eyes widened as he was pinned back against the door the moment it closed.
“I prefer a real hunt,” the Tyrant growled.
Calixte had little time to process, moaning as his lips were finally claimed in a ravenous kiss. He clutched the Tyrant’s waist, hands mapping heated skin, tracing scars, admiring taut muscles. His head spun with heady tiltillation, and he teased the Tyrant’s nipples until they perked up under his fingertips.
The Tyrant groaned in response and cradled the back of his neck in his large hand, locking their mouths deeper. Calixte whimpered against the tongue determined to steal his breath. Boldly, he squeezed the firm pectorals under his hands. He could practically taste the wild lust emanating from the Tyrant.
A leg slid between his thighs, and he grinded down shamelessly, parting from the kiss. He licked away the string of saliva between them, panting heavily. The Tyrant bit his lip and pressed against him. His hands slid underneath Calixte’s halfrobe, running along bare thighs. He nudged them apart to press their groins together. A hot shudder ran through Calixte at the feeling of his heavy erection.
“Needy little thing, aren’t you,” he spoke in a husky tone as he grabbed Calixte’s ass. “Like a bitch in heat.”
Calixte’s cock twitched under the heat of the words. He trembled as lips and teeth kissed and sucked his neck, shoulders, ears. The Tyrant traced his tongue between the various jewelry, and he nipped the sensitive flesh. Calixte leaned into him, catching his quiet groans.
“You’re not much better yourself,” he whispered with a smile.
The Tyrant bit his neck in retaliation and lifted him off his feet again, rutting against him. Calixte grasped his shoulders and moaned into another kiss. He broke away with a laugh as the surface behind him shook.
“You’re going to find something sturdier to fuck me against,” he breathed. His gaze flickered to the throne. “Actually…”
“You wish to service your king?” the Tyrant grinned, gripping his chin. He slipped into the persona with ease.
“Yes,” Calixte said, biting his lip through a smile.
“Very well. You may yet prove yourself worthy of my time.”
He kissed him once more before walking over to the throne. Calixte followed after him, stopping at the carpet. He watched the Tyrant take his seat, legs spread, arrogant, taking the posture of one that assumed the world owed him everything. For a long moment, his burning gaze raked over Calixte’s disheveled form. Calixte brought his hands behind his back and peered up at him with a faux demure look.
“What does my liege desire?”
“Remove your clothes,” the Tyrant commanded.
Calixte obliged, drawing out the motion of slowly pulling the halfrobe over his head and tossing the garment aside. He didn’t have much else underneath: panties, thigh high stockings, and heels.
“That will do,” the Tyrant said as Calixte was about to hook a finger around his waistband. For a good moment the Tyrant leered at him openly. “I look forward to savoring so lovely a trophy.”
“A trophy you haven’t quite conquered yet,” Calixte smirked.
“Hmph. You’ve a mouth that needs discipline,” the Tyrant glared even as he smiled. He beckoned to him. “Crawl as befits your station.”
Calixte stepped onto the carpet and hesitated, caught between the arousing debasement and shame.
“Or I can start without you,” the Tyrant prompted as he squeezed himself through his pants.
Blushing to the tips of his ears, Calixte dropped down and crawled across the carpet. He moved languidly, eyes locked on him, hips swaying. Calixte caught the Tyrant’s sharp intake of air and the way he tried to palm himself discreetly. An alluring smirk crossed Calixte’s lips, relishing how much the other was affected.
Finally, Calixte reached the base of the throne. He placed his hands on top of one of the Tyrant’s knees, rested his chin there, and peered up through his lashes.
“How would your majesty use me?” he whispered. The Tyrant reached down to card a hand through his hair, loosening it from its bind.
“Show me what you’re capable of.”
Calixte leaned into the touch, taking a moment to calm himself. Then, he reached forward to feel him through the leather pants, rubbing the impressive bulge. The Tyrant sucked in a breath, and the muscles in his thighs flexed. Keeping eye contact, Calixte kissed the peak.
“Tease,” the Tyrant muttered in an accusatory tone.
Calixte smiled. With trembling hands, he undid the belt and pants, freeing the stiff member. Greedy desire rolled down his body right to his arousal. His hand barely fit around it. He gave it a few strokes before giving kittenish licks over the head, driving the tip of his tongue over the slit. He relished the gasp above him.
He braced one hand against the Tyrant’s muscled thigh and cupped his heavy balls with the other. Working his way down, he placed wet open mouthed kisses from the head to the base of the shaft. He dragged his lips over the balls, gently massaging with his tongue.
“You worship your king well,” The Tyrant said, voice thick with lust. “Who knew a powerful warrior like yourself is so easily cowed.”
Calixte dragged his tongue all the way up to the head, flicking over the leaking slit. Licking his lips, he smiled up at him.
“I just figured you could use a win,” he breathed. The Tyrant growled and shoved his head back down.
“Impudent little thing.”
Calixte moaned as he took the hard cock into his mouth, lips stretching around the girth. He stroked where he couldn’t reach, and he sucked and bobbed slowly, taking more each time. The musky scent and taste flooded his senses, making his own arousal ache with need. He felt the muscle under his free hand flex and twitch. The Tyrant’s heavy breath grew more noticeable.
“You’re clearly experienced,” he remarked. “Or just born for it.”
Like hot sparks, the words fell on Calixte’s warm ears. He pulled away for air and peeked through his lashes. “Does it please you, my king?” Without waiting for response, Calixte dragged his lips and tongue down and up the throbbing member, letting out obnoxious wet noises.
“It does indeed,” the Tyrant replied in a shuddering tone, hips tensing the slightest bit, cock shifting forth in Calixte’s mouth. “To have a beautiful slut tending so eagerly to my royal cock.”
Slurping loudly a few times, Calixte looked up again with an impish smile.
“What a kind and gentle king you are, your majesty. Hardly the fearsome tyrant.” He hovered over the sensitive head of his erection, letting his teeth graze just enough to make him twitch. “I would have thought— Ah!” He winced as the Tyrant grabbed him by the hair.
“I see the slut wants for punishment,” he said with a click of his tongue. He rocked his hips, stiff member brushing past Calixte’s lips and cheek. “I ought to properly silence you.”
Calixte bit back a whimper, whole body aflame with need. For a moment he relished the hand fisted in his hair. Then, he caught a look in the Tyrant’s eye, something softer and restrained.
“Try it, your majesty,” he goaded with a breathy laugh. “See if your glorious cock is enough.”
As Calixte parted his lips, the Tyrant shifted his hand, tilting his chin up to meet his eyes. “Tap me twice if you want to stop,” he said in a low voice. The gesture was sweet, even if unneeded as Calixte was quite sure he’d let the Tyrant do whatever he wanted to him right now.
“Understood,” he said and moved to take him back into his mouth.
The Tyrant guided him by the back of his head and gave a few shallow thrusts. Calixte moaned and placed both hands on his strong thighs, squeezing and kneading through the trousers. He sucked and traced his tongue over veins along the shaft, urging the Tyrant to be more rough. Steadily the pressure on his head increased while low gasps and groans escaped the Tyrant.
A sudden jerk of his hips made Calixte’s throat seize, grip on his thighs turning sharp. The Tyrant froze, easing his hold. But Calixte stayed in place, breathing deeply. He focused on relaxing his throat and slid further down the long shaft. To his delight the Tyrant resumed using his mouth, merciful pace slipping away.
“A much better use of your mouth,” the Tyrant panted. “Though it seems there’s no point silencing you, hm?”
Calixte couldn’t stop his needy whimpers as he felt the heavy cock filling up his mouth over and over, sliding in and out, deep in his throat. Every upward motion, he hungrily swiped the precome leaking copiously. He tried to swallow around the pooling saliva in his mouth, making the Tyrant gasp and thrust harder. Hot shivers rolled through Calixte, and his hips bucked into nothing but the growing dampness of his tight smallclothes.
“Fuck…”
Calixte peered up as best as he could, seeing the Tyrant throw his head back, lips parted. Gods, he felt so deliciously filthy as he was used like a cocksleeve. His eyes fluttered closed as he savored the Tyrant’s unbridled passion and the lack of air. A harsh thrust forced him down to the base. Calixte’s eyes flew open as he was held there. The Tyrant’s pupils were blown wide, absent of haughty persona, a moment of pure awe and carnal desire. Calixte struggled to breathe. He focused on his throat muscles, squeezing around the throbbing cock. The Tyrant cried out and yanked Calixte back.
Calixte immediately mourned the loss. But he could only gasp and tremble in his hold, head spinning with arousal. The Tyrant gripped the base of his cock, his brow furrowed.
“I thought my king would grace me with his blessing,” Calixte rasped, barely keeping a grip on their play.
“Perfect little whore, aren’t you,” the Tyrant growled, caressing his face with both hands. He ran his thumb over slick, swollen lips. “I would, had I not other plans.” He leaned in to whisper in Calixte’s ear. “I intend to claim you absolutely, to come buried deep inside you.”
Calixte let out a thin whine, face burning hot. He was pulled into a passionate kiss and melted into it. His own cock was painfully hard, whole body hyper sensitive. The Tyrant kissed along his neck and bit his shoulders, making him squirm. Finally, Calixte was allowed a moment to regain his breath. He watched the Tyrant lean over the side of the throne, reaching into a hidden compartment. Calixte managed to have the wits to raise his eyebrows as a bottle of lube was handed to him.
“Does this see regular use?”
Instead of answering him, the Tyrant simply grinned and nudged him back with a gentle press of his boot to Calixte’s chest. “Give me a show.”
Calixte caressed the top of the boot, then leaned back on the carpet. He watched the Tyrant through hooded eyes as he rubbed himself a few times through his panties. Shivering moans slipped from his lips at the rush of pleasure and relief. Legs spread, he showed off the wet patch before sliding the sullied fabric down his hip, thighs, slowly kicking them off.
“Leave those on,” the Tyrant said as Calixte reached for his stockings.
Calixte bit his lip, amazed that he continued to be further turned on with everything the Tyrant said and did to him. He coated his fingers in lube and shifted into a position that provided a clear view. Slowly, he traced his rim, clenching reflexively on the cool touch. The Tyrant’s eyes were trained on his motions while holding himself in a tight grip. A thin sheen of sweat adorned his chest that steadily expanded with labored breath.
Knowing how much he was affected made Calixte smile, lustful glee filling his head. He relaxed his muscles, sighing as he worked a finger past his entrance. It didn’t take long to fit two fingers inside. His eyes fluttered closed, head tilting back at the sensation. He rocked his hips to meet his hand as he thrust slowly and stretched.
“How does it feel?” The Tyrant’s voice rumbled. Calixte cracked his eyes open, seeing him stroke himself. The gloves had been discarded to the side.
“Good,” he breathed. He imagined those hands all over him, shoved deep inside him. They would be thicker and longer. Calixte whimpered as he teased a third finger along his rim. “Are you sure you don’t want to help me out here?”
“You’d like that, would you?”
Calixte nodded as he slid three fingers inside. He gasped for breath as he reached desperately for his sweet spot. The Tyrant looked as tense as him. The thought of the man climbing over him filled his mind. He imagined how the Tyrant would pull his hand away, pin him down and fuck him right there on the carpet.
“Want you,” he moaned. Adding in an afterthought, “My liege. Want to be taken by you.”
“Tell me.”
“I want to feel how your cock fills me up,” Calixte gasped, flushing through his chest to his ears. He thrust his fingers harder, hips bucking back and forth. “I want you to hold me down and pound me until I scream.”
The Tyrant let out a hiss, looking as if it took all his willpower not to pounce on Calixte. He spread his legs a bit wider and beckoned Calixte forward.
“Come here. Let’s have a look at you.”
Calixte shivered and withdrew his fingers. He did as he was told, grabbed the lube, and trembled as he climbed into his lap. His hands rested on the Tyrant's chest, but was swatted away.
“Didn’t say you could touch.”
His commanding tone made Calixte’s cock twitch. Patiently, he waited, gaze locked with the Tyrant whose hands groped his thighs. He couldn’t help ghosting his fingers over the rough knuckles.
“And how would you enforce that?” Calixte murmured as he leaned closer.
“Slut,” the Tyrant scoffed. “You’re just asking for it.”
He closed the distance, tongue driving into Calixte’s mouth. His hands trailed up his sides, then flicked his nipples. Calixte gasped and tossed his head back as the Tyrant ran his tongue over each one, sucking until they were tender. His hips jerked forward, their members grinding together. The Tyrant held him still in a strong grip.
“I’d order you to prepare my cock, but you’ve been far too disobedient.”
“I can be good,” Calixte said with a pout. He lightly nipped the Tyrant’s lips. “Please allow me the honor of tending your cock, my king.”
“So eager for punishment and praise,” the Tyrant said, handing over the lube. “Little more than a desperate whore.”
Calixte poured a generous amount on his hands and coated the long and hard shaft. He gave him a smug smile. “Desperate? So are you.” He rubbed over the tip more than necessary, making the Tyrant groan and thrust into his fist. In retaliation, he grasped Calixte by the hair.
“Turn around.”
Calixte tried to give him a wounded look, but followed his guidance. He cried out as the Tyrant slid his fingers inside. Just as he imagined, they were thick and rough, stretching him further.
“You think this is enough to take me?” He could hear the smirk in the Tyrant’s voice.
“C-Can’t be that hard,” Calixte looked over his shoulder and licked his lips. He yelped as the Tyrant swatted him across his ass.
“Find out yourself,” he growled. “Ride me.”
Calixte lined himself up and slowly sank down. A constant string of moans spilled from his mouth as he focused on relaxing around the thick cock forcing its way along his inner walls.
“Gods…!” He rocked gently, breathing deeply until he took it all the way to the hilt. “Why… are you… so big?” he whined as he clenched around the intrusion stretching him to his limits.
The Tyrant cursed breathlessly behind him. Calixte glimpsed his large hands clutching the armrests, knuckles white. “How are you so tight?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Calixte couldn’t help giving a wheezing laugh. He planted his feet on the ground and his hands on the Tyrant’s knees. Large hands wrapped around his waist, and he cried out as the hard cock grinded inside him. “W-Wait!”
The Tyrant groaned, but stopped moving, hands resting on Calixte’s hips. Calixte swallowed down a whimper, not about to admit he wanted the Tyrant to fuck him mercilessly anyway. To his surprise, he was allowed to set the pace. He rocked back and forth until the consuming lust made him lift higher and drop back harder. The feeling of the Tyrant sliding in and out, reaching so deep sent pleasure flooding through his veins.
“So good,” Calixte moaned and grinded down hard. Using the armrests for support, he angled back and felt the head of the cock brushing past his sweet spot. The burst of pleasure had him tossing his head back, clamping tight.
“Fuck,” the Tyrant bit out. His hands held Calixte’s waist again, helping him fall harder.
“Hah… ah!”
A haze of ecstasy filled Calixte’s head as he felt the Tyrant thrust up to meet him. Hot sweat-slick chest pressed against his back. Lips and teeth closed around his neck and shoulders, leaving possessive stinging marks. Half of his wanton noises were swallowed in sloppy kisses.
“Good boy,” the Tyrant growled in his ear, biting the sensitive point. “You take me so well, the perfect slut made for my cock.”
Calixte’s eyes rolled back at the heated words. He felt the Tyrant lean back, hands tighten on his waist, and his hips snapping up into him. Licentious moans were wrung out of him as he bounced on the large cock that nailed all the right spots.
He let out a cry of surprise when the Tyrant pressed him back by the sternum. Strong arms hooked under his knees, pulling them nearly against his shoulders. The position set Calixte’s face aflame, immobilized and so shamefully exposed. He could only submit as the Tyrant held him open and thrust into him. Nearly screaming, his inner walls clenched and fluttered around the relentless force. Closer and closer, the pleasure in his body ready to bubble over.
“Harder! Harder!” his voice was utterly devastated with use and desperation, pitching higher. His eyes flew open when the Tyrant suddenly froze and grasped his cock to stop him. Calixte nearly summoned his strength to break free, grinding back in frustration. “No— why—”
“On the floor,” the Tyrant snarled against his neck while shrugging off his coat. “Hands and knees.”
Calixte practically fell out of his lap. Limbs shaking as he did what he was told. He would do anything at that moment, anything to get the Tyrant back inside him. Large hands held his hips steady, squeezing his ass and spreading his cheeks. Calixte shivered, feeling his entrance clench. The Tyrant’s slippery member slid across his rim, hot and heavy.
“Beg for it.”
“Please,” the words spilled from his so easily. “Fuck me, please. Tyrant. Need your cock inside me. I want to feel you for weeks. Please, please, put it in.” He arched his back, trying to wriggle back against the bruising grip.
“That’s it,” the Tyrant moaned as he slid back into Calixte. “Finally, obedient, hm? Good boy.”
Calixte’s mouth fell open in a silent cry, forgetting how to breathe as he felt the entire length push all the way deep inside him. The Tyrant pulled out slowly, then slammed back in hard, grinding against Calixte’s sweet spot and eliciting the most salacious keen of delight. His pace was slow and harsh, jolting Calixte forward with every thrust.
Calixte gasped for air, needy whimpers punched out of him. His arms trembled with the effort to stay upright. The moment the Tyrant’s hand glided up his back to press his shoulders, he dropped down gratefully. He spread his thighs wider and grinded back against the Tyrant’s thrusts.
With one hand clutching his waist and one hand holding him down by his hair, Calixte was in bliss. He clawed at the plush carpet, screaming in pleasure as the Tyrant picked up the pace. The sound of the Tyrant’s balls slapping against him with every thrust was loud in his ears, bouncing off the walls. His toes curled as the heavy cock railed into him, sending constant waves of pleasure flooding his whole body. He loved the feeling of being so thoroughly dominated, happily drowning in the lustful haze.
“More… ah! More,” he babbled senselessly. His body was going lax under the force.
“So tight and hot around me,” the Tyrant gasped. He moved his hand from Calixte’s nape to brace against the floor. “Mm! Such a good cock-hungry whore. You like being ruined by me?”
“Yes! Hah, p-please. Please, want to come.”
The Tyrant chuckled. “Asking permission— ah, like a good boy. That’s right. Squeeze me tighter.”
Calixte obliged without effort, his inner walls clenching and pulsing with desperation. He continued to plead in incomprehensible cries. The Tyrant grabbed his hips with both hands and bucked even harder than before.
“Go ahead,” he ground out. “Come for your king, little slut.”
Calixte’s eyes rolled back, blinded by the intensity. He let out a wanton wail as his body seized up. Euphoric climax rushed over him. His aching cock twitched and spilled. He whined as the Tyrant arched over him, grinding deep against his overstimulated nerves. Shuddering in filthy satisfaction, his eyes closed at the feeling of hot seed filling him up to the brim. Every ilm of his body was fried with bliss, every fiber of muscle completely relaxed. He clung to sweet fog, floating in how good everything felt.
“Calixte,” he heard the Tyrant murmur, as if in some distant time and place.
Gentle kisses pressed along his temple and sweaty forehead. His tongue felt too heavy, throat shot. Maybe he got out a small sound. He didn’t know. All he knew was that he felt like a happy little puddle of goo. He was lying on his side, warmth all around him, spend leaking down his thigh.
“Hey.”
It took immense effort to crack open his eyes, but he had a feeling it was important. He found the Tyrant gazing down at him. Calloused hands rubbed his side in a soothing pattern.
“Mm?”
The Tyrant snorted, his smile surprisingly soft. “Do you want to clean up?”
“No,” Calixte croaked, eyes falling shut again.
He heard the Tyrant huff and felt lips on the back of his neck. No more voracious lust, just a gentle brush over skin. One of his arms was draped over Calixte, caressing across his torso.
“There’s better places to rest.”
Calixte hummed. Once he’d drifted back to some semblance of clarity, he looked up again. The Tyrant was propped on one elbow, watching him.
“Did you call me by my name?”
The corner of the Tyrant’s lips curled up. “Would you rather I keep calling you ‘slut’?”
Calixte blushed and looked away. “I, uh… I don’t usually—”
“No need for explanations,” the Tyrant whispered and kissed his shoulder. Calixte sighed and shivered at the pleasing sensation. “Cold?”
“No. But I would not say no to a shower.”
“Very well.” The Tyrant got up while scooping Calixte into his arms.
“I can walk!” Calixte stammered.
“Can you?”
“…I don’t know.”
He had to lean against the Tyrant while they showered. To his surprise, the Tyrant cleaned him first. Part of Calixte wanted to protest instinctively. He was so used to doing everything on his own. But he had to admit, it was a nice feeling. So he held his tongue and savored being doted on.
Thankfully, the locker room was well stocked with towels and spare clothes. Calixte blushed as the Tyrant even helped him dry off. Admittedly, his legs were still shaky.
“What was the penalty if you lost?”
“Huh?” Calixte glanced at him as he pulled a plain black shirt over his head.
“Raising the stakes was always a thing in the Arcadion even before you.”
“Ah, it was to spend time with you.”
“And that was dreadful enough to motivate you to win?” The Tyrant asked, an eyebrow raised.
“If the ache that’s already happening in my back is anything to go by,” Calixte snorted. He noticed a shift in the Tyrant, a strange distance.
“A waste of a win. You’ve paid the penalty anyway.” He spoke casually though his posture had changed.
Oh!
Calixte grabbed the Tyrant’s hand so that he would look him in the eye. “I didn’t mean— Erm, they didn’t specify sex. They just wanted me to talk to you. The sex was unexpected. But I enjoyed it! Very much,” he trailed off, blushing. “I mean, the wager had nothing to do with this. I would have—”
The Tyrant smirked and cut him off with a kiss. Calixte’s eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into the warmth. Lips roamed along his jaw to his ear. “And I enjoyed you very much.”
Calixte’s ears flushed pink, and he stepped back to sulk performatively at him, regardless of the butterflies in his stomach.
“Would you care to share a meal with me?”
“I would like that.”
“So all’s well that ends well?” Green asked cautiously as Calixte finished his second large sub sandwich. Calixte sipped his drink loudly, staring him down.
“Yes. It’s fine. Thanks for the meal.”
“You are very welcome. Ahem, sorry again about all that.” Green smiled sheepishly. His tomestone gave a chime and he glanced at it. “Oh! Woah, would you look at that.”
“What?”
Green showed him the recent hot social media post. A photo of Honey kissing Vamp on the cheek.
“That’s not as obvious as I thought they’d be,” Calixte frowned. Green blinked at him.
“You knew, huh? Wait, was there more to the wager?”
“Nope,” Calixte said as he took out his own buzzing tomestone. His heart skipped a beat at the new message.
>Heading out now
“Well then,” Green started slowly, peering over his shades. “Did you and the Tyrant—”
“Sorry, work is calling. Thanks again,” Calixte said as he stood up.
“’Cause, if, you know…”
Calixte gave him a wry look and headed for the city exit.
“You’re welcome~” Green said in a sing-song tone.
Calixte waved without looking back. He typed out a message as he walked.
<See you soon
A smile broke across Calixte’s lips, his steps light and quick, eager to meet up with the Tyrant to hunt together.