It's dry and it's scratchy but he doesn't think he's ever felt anything better. His mouth drops open in a silent holy shit when Poe starts fucking going at it, and his knees press hard indents into Poe's side as he squirms and shuts his eyes and just-- experiences it all. He feels like he's gonna cum already if this keeps up, his thrusts into Poe's hand coming shallow and rickety until he gives up and just pushes hard into his fist and holds himself there, and maybe that's what Poe wants, but Owain--
Owain wants more. He wants both. To claim and to be claimed. He kisses Poe back with all the strength in the world, but he doesn't let it last. He pulls back, cheeks red, eyes downcast.
He grinds back against Poe's cock one more time and reaches down behind him to pull it out of his clothes. It's clumsy and it's awkward and Owain's getting annoyed with himself for not just being able to fucking do this, but eventually the cool air of the night makes contact with Poe's skin and Owain breathes out a breath. He strokes it a few more times, gets his uninjured palm slick with precum, then brings his hand back up to Poe's lips, holding his index and middle fingers right up against them.
"Suck," he says, and-- it's a command, it's a command, it's a command. "Get my fingers wet."
His hips had been rolling up against Owain entirely of their own volition - something he only actually realised after Owain finally releases his trapped cock. Fuck, but he wants out of his pants. Not really something he's able to do, at the moment.
His strokes had slowed, in the meantime - still rough and thorough but the pace had definitely slowed. He groaned, lowly, as Owain brought his hand to his lips, half-lidded eyes dark with lust met Owain's as he leaned in, tongue running between the two offered fingers before pulling them between his lips and sucking. Hard. He didn't even bother not to pretend that he was thinking about something else, entirely. Any hesitancy had fled, when Owain's hand had touched him - all thoughts dumped from his mind so his body could live fully in the moment.
And fuck, but he wanted to hear Owain command him again.
His eyes fluttered, his strokes picking up a little more speed as he coating Owain's fingers in saliva, the slightly salty taste of his own precum on his tongue.
It almost hurts, the way the bandage scrapes over his cock, but he still finds himself grunting like an animal in heat and bucking into it every time the coarse fabric grazes his head. He's getting worse, more vocal, louder than he was the first time he and Poe did this, breathing hard growls that roll from the bottom of his chest. He's staring down at those slick fingers with that same self-loathing and that same need to just fucking take Poe and be close and be his and be owned and own and to have it all, all of it, all on his terms, his terms, their terms, not Kes's, not the world's.
He bucks forward and shuts his eyes when Poe sucks his fingers, fucking hard into Poe's fist and pushing his fingers in to feel the soft wetness of his tongue. He rubs his thumb over Poe's bottom lip and thrusts into each stroke with louder moans, louder, he's gonna be fucking shouting at the top of his lungs by the time this is done. He keeps this going, fucking into Poe's mouth with his fingers until he can see how slick and wet they are, and then he draws them back, taking a breath.
This is another thing he only has the basest of experience with, but fuck, he doesn't care. He leans back, prying his dick out of Poe's grip, and he rests himself more on Poe's legs than his waist, arm behind him on the mattress to keep steady. He arches himself up with one leg and reaches beneath himself to find his hole, which he slowly starts to fuck with one finger Poe made slick for him. It's-- tight, he's not even sure he'll be able to fit two fingers inside himself, let alone Poe's cock-- but he grunts, and he stretches, and he's aggressive, too aggressive than he needs to be as he puts on a show, forces that hole open.
He inserts his second finger and he looks up at Poe, eyes dark, hazed over by lust and anger. Anger at everyone for making him feel for even a fucking second that he's worth less than what he is.
"Stroke your cock," he orders, and again, it's loud, too loud for where they are. "With-- your injured hand. Get ready for what I'm gonna do to you."
He grins, laughs, throaty and deep.
"I might be the one who's gonna get a dick in my ass, but you're the one that's gonna get fucked."
He wonders exactly what it was that taught Owain how to talk like that. Not just here, and now, but that first morning where he was grunting and panting and begging even while still asleep. Something very hot and dark flares in his chest, briefly, as he wonders what kind of lessons that might have involved and who he was going to need to stab to keep them from teaching that kind of shit --
But it also had the side effect of being fucking hot. Owain's anger may as well have been an aphrodisiac, as far as Poe was concerned. Because he felt it, too. It was a righteous anger and a rebellious one, and regardless of how everyone else in the universe might have felt about Owain, Poe gazed at him like there was nothing more fucking beautiful in existence.
He did as ordered - as soon as he was ordered - though his strokes were slow and even, his fingers flicking down to watch Owain prepare himself. It was too rough, and he had half a mind to tell him so - but kept his mouth shut. He was not telling Owain to do a damn fucking thing tonight.
"Fuck," he groaned, his cock pulsing a long line of precum down his shaft and over his fingers. "... Fuck, Owain--"
He stretches himself out until it's done, until the clean movements of sinking his fingers into his heat and out again come easily, and then he sits back up, taking a breath. He doesn't stop Poe from slowly stroking his cock even as he aligns the two of them together - he can feel Poe's hand against his ass with every tedious, upward stroke, and he waits until he's gripping himself at the base before he sinks down.
He writhes on the tip of Poe's cock once it enters him, grunting hard through his teeth. Even this is almost too much for him to handle, with a searing pain all but tearing him apart, and he clenches down, too angry and inexperienced to fight the instinct and just relax. It hurts, but the slickness of his saliva and the precum coating him from the inside makes it bearable, and he doesn't care enough about the pain to stop. Poe is still dressed, but his nails find Poe's chest and he digs in for grip, scratching off a layer of skin and cutting small, tiny droplets of blood over flesh.
"Okay," he grunts. "Okay-- fucking-- back to me. Hand on my cock. Don't stop until I say you can."
He lowers himself further, pushing about a quarter of Poe's dick through that ring of tight, pink muscle until he has to stop and take a breath. He eases, a little, but it's not enough, and the pain is shooting up through his body and into his skull, giving him a headache.
But every little burst of pain - every shot that aches through him - makes his cock just fucking pulse, precum beading at the tip and flowing down in streams, completely covering Poe's hand, the bandage, his body beneath Owain. He fucking needs this.
It's fucking tight, but his heavy lust gets tempered, a little, by the obvious pain contorting Owain's face. He takes Owain's cock when he's told to, long smooth strokes despite the bandage, running his thumb over the slick head with every pass. It's incredibly erotic, if it didn't also make his heart hurt with an entirely different sort of longing.
That brief moment of yearning for just a slow, loving consummation - and a deep flush blooms under his skin at the thought. Not now. Not when Owain was obviously trying so hard to prove something, if only to himself. But suddenly he just wanted to lose himself in Owain, every stroke taking a millennia and falling into a trance--
He was pulled out of it by the sharp pain on his chest, his breath hitching, lips parting wordlessly, but his cock throbbed hotly, another gush of precum sliding down his shaft even as the head was now buried in Owain's body, and he had to resist the urge to fuck up into him.
"... You gotta... Fuck, Owain, you're so tight, you got to relax--"
Be a good boy? Was that what he was going to say? Owain falters, a little, and his resolve flickers, almost dies. He doesn't let it. He grits his teeth and keeps trying to move, sinking just a little further before he has to stop again, the pain too much. Fuck. Fuck! He digs his nails back into Poe's chest, and there's still anger in his voice, a determination that shakes under the weight of itself.
"I just--"
He digs his knees into Poe's sides, right at his hips. Telling him, silently, to fuck up into him, to fucking move, because it hurts too much to do this on his own and he just-- he wants this to just-- work. He's getting frustrated, and it's starting to show, and he chews the inside of his cheek as he tries to find what he wants to say.
"I just-- want us to belong to each other." There's too much anger in him for it to just fade, but it lessens, when he meets Poe's eyes. "I just -- want to do -- anything to you. Because you can do anything to me. Because it's-- us, my body is as much yours as yours is mine, I want us to just-- I just want to do this. Claim you. Be claimed. Equally. Fuck everyone else."
"I'd prefer to just fuck each other," he joked, his voice wry and low. It was lame. Sorry.
Despite Owain's silent urging, he didn't fuck up into him - and instead shifted to pull himself out altogether. Before Owain had a chance to protest, he made a low shhh sound. He kept stroking Owain's cock with his bandaged hand, though he moved his free one to trace the line of precum from it with his fingers, gathering as much as he could.
"I... Want that too," he admitted in a low voice, before reaching under Owain with slick fingers and finding the abused ring of muscle that had been trying so hard to envelope him. He wasn't really going for stretching, exactly, as he pushed a fingers deep inside. He wanted to get Owain to relax, so instead he curled his finger, searching for his prostate, and massaging it firmly when he found it. "But I want you to feel-- amazing, Owain, you deserve to feel amazing--"
He's too stubborn to let go, right away. Even as Poe pulls out of him, he makes a noise, almost like he doesn't want this. It's the shushing that placates him, and he clenches his jaw, feeling bizarrely exposed for the first time tonight as Poe reaches forward to help him. He just wants-- more than this, more than fucking, he wants-- importance.
He lets Poe touch him and his knees fucking buckle when Poe finds what he's looking for. He keels forward, eyes wide, and this is-- holy fuck, this is new, he's never felt this before. He pushes his hips back against Poe's fingers with a grunt, cock achingly, achingly fucking hard as the swell of weird half-pressure runs through him, this over explosion of nerves that makes him want to squirm and buck and move.
"Fuck-- fuck, holy shit? What are y--"
He cuts himself of with a long, long groan, biting down to keep quiet but arching his back, giving Poe further access. He doesn't relax, not yet, but everything inside of him feels like it's fucking exploding, and so much of his baseless hate and righteous anger is leaving him in waves.
"There we go," Poe whispered, arousal flooding through him as he felt Owain's body reverberate with need, his muscles contracting even tighter with the sudden pleasure. He slowed his finger, each press against Owain's prostate now achingly teasing, trying to draw another on of those gratifying curses from Owain's lips.
He doesn't let go, just he does shift so he can sit almost upright, leaning in to press warm, open mouthed kisses against Owain's chest.
"Fuck, you're beautiful-" he whispers, to himself, but in full earshot of the man sitting astride him. "You gotta... Relax, Owain... Focus on the pleasure, and before you know it, I'll be sinking deep inside you--"
He lets Poe carry him through this, easing his body more and more just with the sound of his voice alone. Every part of him fully and completely trusts Poe to take care of him, to take him deeper, to show him how to do this. He can't stop the quick, sudden bucks that come every time Poe overloads him, touching just the right place with just the right amount of pleasure to make him want to pin himself down and beg for more, but it's-- fine. He can deal with it.
He can deal with it, right up until the last thing Poe says. The moan that breaks through him is fucking heaven, crashing far too loudly against the walls of the room. With shaking hands, he finds Poe's hair again, craning him back like before, angling down so he can kiss Poe almost violently hard in an attempt to shut him up. The way he whispered sent shivers straight to his cock alone, but-- sinking deep inside you--
"Shut the fuck up or you're gonna make me cum."
It's hoarse and commanding, whispered right against Poe's lips as he pulls back, breath ghosting over them. He adjusts himself, a little, keening back against Poe's fingers, and when the firm but teasing push against his prostate is too much for him to deal with, he lets go of Poe's hair and slumps forward, completely weak.
"Just-- fuck-- come on, I need this, don't drag this out. You gonna make me beg? Tell you how badly I want this?"
Every time Owain pulls hard on his hair like that it makes Poe's cock twitch, almost violently, and he moans into Owain's mouth with absolutely no restraint. If he'd thought about where they were, maybe he would have thought to try to stifle himself - stifle Owain - but honestly? He doesn't fucking care who hears.
He moans again when Owain tells him to shut the fuck up. "Tempting..." He admits, his cock leaking almost continuously. Tempting, but fuck, he needed this so badly.
"Fucking tempting," he reiterates, his hand slipping off of Owain's cock for a second, elbow bracing to keep him upright, the other hand slowly dragging his fingers from Owain's body. With the palm of his hand he spread the new precum over his own cock, then angled it to line up with Owain's body. "Relax, and press down on it, slowly, as your body adjusts, alright?"
He lay back, so that he could slowly roll his hips upward, pressing firmly until the right ring of muscle suddenly gave way enough to let the head of his clock back inside. "Fuck--" he whispered, his other hand gripping Owain's hip and slowly but steadily guiding him down onto his cock. "Fuck, Owain---"
Owain watches Poe with just-- open vulnerability, masked by his need to rebel and his need to connect. He would beg, if Poe asked. Beg and cry and scream just to feel him. When he doesn't have to, when Poe shows him mercy, he kisses him again, softer. Somewhere between grateful and blatantly affectionate.
He rushes things, at first. Pins himself down on the first few inches of Poe's cock all at once, taking more than he should and biting his lip when it stings. He's impatient, he's young, he wants to handle this better - wants to get taken care of like he was in his dream. He hisses and he adjusts, leaning his weight into Poe's hands as he slowly, slowly lets himself sink, forcing himself to relax and open up to Poe in the way he's being taught.
It takes a while, but Owain is fucking determined to see this through, and he sinks lower and lower until Poe's balls are right against his ass and every mind-shattering inch of him is stretching him apart. He still has that instinct to just tighten, to wring each nerve in Poe's cock, but the way he looks at him, the way he whispers - it's enough to keep Owain relaxed, enough to keep him in check.
"I'm gonna..."
He's sweating, looking almost dazed when he meets Poe's eyes, half-lidded and darkened by lust. He takes a long breath, chest rising, abs tightening.
He talks him though it, or at least tries to - his whispers far less like actually sentences than they are murmurs of encouragement or single words of warning ("Easy--"). He resists the urge to push up into Owain's body, keeping his own hips still, even though the heat and the pressure are intense. But whatever this started as - Owain grinding against him with an angry determination - it has changed into something else. Something that keeps feeding the butterflies in his chest and sending them into a frenzy.
He's almost nervous in a weird sort of way, which surprises him. Maybe it's because Owain keeps wincing, but he doesn't think so. It's something else. He can't put his finger on it.
When Owain bottoms out, Poe groans, rubbing his thumbs into the hollows of Owain's hips.
There's a moment before he actually moves where Owain just looks at Poe. Takes in his eyes, his lips. He drapes his arms over Poe's shoulders and loosely locks them against his neck, keeping Poe looking up at him so he can watch every expression Owain makes, feel every breath.
He starts to rise, and he can feel himself stretching and making way for Poe. He tries to keep eye contact the whole time, but once he starts hitting a rhythm he just-- clouds over, focused on the feeling of tight pressure filling him from the inside. His dick twitches and leaks fresh lines of precum every time the flared ridge of Poe's head brushes hard over that spot that just keeps fucking ruining him, and he's not moaning, not yet, he's going too achingly, achingly slow for that, but his lips part in voiceless need.
He fucks himself down on Poe about half a dozen times before he has to stop, skin red and flushed from exhaustion, knees shaking. He almost acts like he's waking up when his eyes drift back into focus, and he grins, dopey and kind of stupid, laughing easily from within his chest. Completely relaxed. No more anger.
"Fffffuck." He arches his neck down, finds Poe's ear, breathes against it. Bites the shell of it, right at the top, laughing again.
It's almost tortuously slow - ever fibre of Poe's being fighting the urge to shallowing thrust up into Owain's body. His grip on the man's hip tightens, fingers driving into flesh, but that's the only outward sign of his restraint. His lips are parted, his breath slow and low - a heavy pant each time Owain lowers himself onto him and Poe's cock pulses with frustrated need.
Owain's grin draws an immediate one in reply from Poe, his eyes crinkling with warm. He pushes himself up a little more upright, but still can't quite meet Owain's lips, so he presses a few clumsy, warm kisses to his chest.
"... You're going to... drive me completely insane," Poe murmured, almost a complaint, if there wasn't a deep well of fondness to the words.
"Yeah, well." He's too fogged out by all this to string two thoughts together, let alone something hot enough to drive Poe as wild as he wants him to, so he just slowly, slowly tries to move again, whispering good just under his breath, another grin slapped stupidly to his face.
Again, he rides Poe's cock for about four long, perfect seconds, and then he's back down, resting entirely on Poe's waist and breathing hard through his mouth. He's panting, labored and unsteady, and he raises both of his arms back from Poe,resting his hands on top of his own head and laughing out again. Fuck.
"Fuck, you're gonna have to-- just--"
He scratches through his hair and then rests his hands on Poe's shoulders, one hand drifting down enough to stroke slow, gentle motions against his collarbone. He'd been talking a big game, up until a moment ago, but this is Poe. This is what Poe does. Fucking ruins him, resets him to happy instead of subservient like Kes.
"Can you-- I want-- I want you to fuck me," he finally spits out. "I want-- you-- to fuck me. Please."
"I think... I might be able to do that," Poe replied, the grin turning a little smug, all thoughts from earlier in the evening having completely left him. This had nothing to do with father, with pledges or masters, just - being with Owain. Being with a man who he - well, to put it blunty, if not eloquently - really fucking liked. He chuckled, low and rough, as he pressed another kiss to Owain's chest.
He considered telling him to move, but- decided against it. Instead, he moved the hand on Owain's hip to the small of his back - spreading warm fingers over his spine - and used his other hand to brace hard against the bed below. Keeping his hand firm on Owain's back, pressing him down against him, he rolled his own hips up, thrusting firmly deep into the man straddling him with a soft grunt.
Fuck, yeah, that was just fine. At least for a few thrusts. Each was slow and a little too spaced out, withdrawing only half way before thrusting deep again, and Poe was working his bottom lip between his own teeth, gazing up at him.
"You tell me exactly how you want it, and I'll give it to you," he whispered, thrusting up to make a point. "Any way you want it--"
He falls apart, almost immediately. Hyper sensitive, wrecked by every stretch and every nerve, every fucking inch that fills his hole. He knows what he wants, knows he wants to either pound his ass down against Poe until the man's back is arching off the bed and he's all but drowning in sweat as he cums. Knows he wants it the other way around, too - just like in his dream. Fucked into a writhing mess of limbs and cum as Poe calls him a good boy and takes him in every possible way.
But this is already too much, and he doesn't think he could handle that, not yet. He stays uncomfortably still as Poe fucks him, just-- adjusting-- until he can put a boundary between what he's feeling and what he wants. He shuts his eyes, tries to will down everything he's feeling to something more manageable, then carefully starts rocking his hips back into each thrust. It's slow, miniscule, but it's an attempt and that alone is a huge god damn sign of his agency in this.
When Poe thrusts up to make that point, he buckles down, already feeling his load boiling at his base.
"Just--" He takes a breath, looks down at Poe, open and vulnerable and trusting and ready. "Just-- if you make me cum-- don't stop? Keep going-- until I-- again. Okay?"
"Keep going, huh?" He arched an eyebrow, amused, but it was a request that he was all too happy to promise to grant. It might be hard in this position, exactly, but if he could get Owain to cum like this, then flip him down onto the bed--
He started to roll his hips with a far less staggered rythym - each stroke leading into the next with a smooth thrust, deep, a little harder and a little sharper with each stroke. He could feel the strain in his arm where it braced the bed - the muscles clearly delineating, sharp under his skin, the veins running down to his wrist clear and taut. It took more focus than another position might have done, but that was just find by him. He didn't want to lose himself in this - not yet. Now that Owain had mentioned it, all he wanted was to make the man come while riding him, and only then give in.
So he kept a careful eye on Owain's face, panting as he fucked up into him, the pace getting a little faster and a little harder with every thrust despite himself.
It's building faster and faster already, Owain's mouth lolling open as he just-- experiences. He's making noises again, distant scratchy moans that force themselves out of him and make his chest ache, and he lets it happen. He's pretty sure he says Poe's name, somewhere in there, but it doesn't come out clearly, not with how hard it is to concentrate on anything but what he's feeling.
He doesn't notice he's cumming at first. His eyelids flutter shut rather than squeeze tight as they always do when he unloads. That boiling, aching buildup in his balls doesn't quiet leave him, doesn't quite give way to an explosion of wracked fire and heavy panting - but he can feel it, he can feel the jets of cum leaving him, he can feel waves of static bult through his legs and he looks down as he watches himself shoot, handsfree, over Poe's stomach and chest. It doesn't feel like he's hit his climax, not really, even though he's steadily softening and cooling down, but if he was barely able to contain himself before--
His refractory period, however fucking short, overwhelms him with sensitivity. He grunts and bucks hard against Poe's cock, coming alive, arching back and breathing hard, muscles shifting under skin as he tightens, clenches hard, squeezes Poe's cock for everything it's worth. He's moaning and writhing and pinning Poe down but he wants-- he wants--
"Fucking-- fuck me-- fuck me, fuck me," He's barely breathing, cock already back to full mast, jutting through the air and desperate for contact. "Fucking-- hard? Hard, hard, come on--"
Any restraint Poe had left in himself broke completely when Owain started to demand it harder. He snapped his hips up almost violently hard, a few times, and then couldn't take this angle anymore. He pulled a knee up next to Owain, before in one very sudden movement he was pulling the man's knees out from under him and flipping him onto the bed. He'd slipped out, of course, but he didn't waste time as he shuffled in between Owain's legs, looking down at the beautiful fucking vision lying there on his back, meeting his eyes.
He pulled Owain's hips up roughly toward him, encouraging him to put a leg up over his shoulder as he grabbed the base of his cock and lined himself up once more.
He pushed into Owain like a hot knife through butter, taking him balls deep in one, smooth thrust. He gave him maybe half a second to adjust before he was drawing out and the snapping his hips forward again, punishingly hard. He had a stupid smug half smile on his lips as he gazed down at Owain, fully planning on giving him exactly what he asked for.
"Oh, I'll fuck you," he promised huskily as he began to thrust, all of his weight behind every thrust deep into Owain's body, not sparing a damn care in the world for how hard he took him. "I'll fuck you so hard that you'll see stars and yet not be able to remember how to scream--"
There's a brief, brief flare of something at the back of Owain's mind when Poe throws him down onto the bed. He's wanted this for a fucking-- achingly long time-- and--
It hits him, with so much fucking clarity, how much he still just wants this on his own terms. None of this is about being a Pledge, or about fighting his role as a Pledge, or-- anything. He just wants Poe to fucking ruin him.
When he thuds back against the bed he moans, and he can feel it vibrate in his lungs with how loud it is. He reaches one hand back to grip the back frame of the bed and he holds on tight as Poe fucks him, each piercing thrust making him gasp. He doesn't have time to adjust after he pulls out for the first time, so when Poe fucks him he curves his spine off the bed and screams loud enough that he's pretty sure someone's gonna come knock on the door to make sure he's okay.
But he still wants control, even like this. Even as he listens to Poe's promises, half-lidded and needy, cock jerking and flexing hard, squeezing so, so tight around Poe, he still wants control. Equal control.
So it takes a minute for the desperation to pass, for the pure fucking lust to get wiped off his face, but when it does, he's smiling, hazy and well-fucked and happy. He reaches his hand out to Poe, drawing his nails back over the mark he left there, raking his fingers through the edge of his own cum. He acts like he's soothing Poe, suddenly, whispering shhh as if Poe needs to be fucking eased into this, eased into it as Owain was, as if he's the one who just screamed, and through all of this, he still finds it in him to laugh. Low. Challenging. Tightly, tightly wound, like it could snap into a wave of screams and begging at any moment.
"Yeah," he whispers, bringing his hand down to his own cock. He strokes it once, runs his head over the too-sensitive head and bucks back against Poe, hard, hard. "Nngh-- yeah. You're a good boy, Dameron. Fuck me so hard I'll be feeling it for a god damn month."
No one knocks on the door. Maybe they are just lucky and the room closest to them is empty. Or maybe everyone instinctively knows that if Poe makes Owain scream, he's well within his rights to do so. Whether out of pleasure or pain. The outside, however, is the last thing on Poe's mind right now. Though there really isn't a hell of a lot on his mind at all, other than the vice grip of Owain's body around his cock, his husky laugh, the way his nails rake over Poe's skin.
He'd felt mostly in control of himself, even when his restraint had snapped. Still felt like he was making decisions for his body, not the other way around.
But then Owain called him a good boy.
He flushed, darkly, and instantly - hadn't even known he could, with so much blood in his cock, but he did - his skin suddenly flamingly hot - his hips bucking hard to meet Owain's hips. He began to drive into him with a reckless abandon, each punishing thrust causing his balls to smack against Owain's ass with a dull slapping sound, pinning him hard into the sheets and then pulling almost the entire length out before slamming it back in again. It was very clear he was following orders.
He had absolutely no control at all, despite the position, and he had lost any ability to tell what his mouth was doing - cursing and grunting with every thrust. His impending orgasm came on extremely suddenly, his bucking hips turning a little more frantic, but he wasn't done--
"Hurt me--" he blurted out, far less of a promise and far far more of a plea. This was begging. "Hurt me, Owain, or I'm going to come right n-- fucking-- hurt me--"
Again, he screams when Poe bucks into him. There's a second before he does it, a second before he's snapping his neck back until his tendons are straining visibly against his skin as he cries out, where he fucking notices. He sees the flush in Poe's skin, sees the way he reacts to being called a good boy, and he's excited. A flutter of joy in his stomach that mixes with an aching, fucking terrible arousal, his dick grinding hard against Poe's stomach as he finds some semblance of composure and looks up at him from below.
He brings his fingertips to Poe's back, eyes all but rolling into the back of his head with each slap against his ass. He scratches up Poe's spine with one hand, finds his master's hair, holds tight in black curls and pulls him closer with an almost angry sounding ffffffffuck hissed through his teeth.
He pants, right up against Poe's ear, as he tries to find his voice.
"Do you really think... that'll stop you?" His voice is a whisper, and it's fucking drowning in barely contained restraint. It's wavering, tremoring, but his intentions are hard and solid, and he rakes his nails on his free hand down Poe's back, tearing at skin. "I... I c-- I could bruise you. Choke you. Make you bleed-- make you cry-- and... and all I'd have to do is tell you what a good boy you are-- tell you how much I fucking need this, need you, need you to fuck me, how much you're fucking helping me, how much you mean to me, how fucking-- insanely-- insanely, perfect your cock is-- and you'll be filling my ass with cum."
He curls his fingernails in, digging hard, as much for grip and stability as an intent to hurt. He snaps his neck back again, twisting his hips in weak miniscule fractions to get more friction against his cock, clenching his ass as tight as he can to keep Poe inside of him longer.
"You're-- you're a good boy, Captain Dameron," he says, rolling the words over his tongue, tasting the complete fucking breakdown of power, stripping the word Captain of any its authority. "So fucking good. Behaving for me. Being a good, good boy. Good boys deserve a reward, Captain. And I-- I wanna make you come."
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Owain wants more. He wants both. To claim and to be claimed. He kisses Poe back with all the strength in the world, but he doesn't let it last. He pulls back, cheeks red, eyes downcast.
He grinds back against Poe's cock one more time and reaches down behind him to pull it out of his clothes. It's clumsy and it's awkward and Owain's getting annoyed with himself for not just being able to fucking do this, but eventually the cool air of the night makes contact with Poe's skin and Owain breathes out a breath. He strokes it a few more times, gets his uninjured palm slick with precum, then brings his hand back up to Poe's lips, holding his index and middle fingers right up against them.
"Suck," he says, and-- it's a command, it's a command, it's a command. "Get my fingers wet."
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His strokes had slowed, in the meantime - still rough and thorough but the pace had definitely slowed. He groaned, lowly, as Owain brought his hand to his lips, half-lidded eyes dark with lust met Owain's as he leaned in, tongue running between the two offered fingers before pulling them between his lips and sucking. Hard. He didn't even bother not to pretend that he was thinking about something else, entirely. Any hesitancy had fled, when Owain's hand had touched him - all thoughts dumped from his mind so his body could live fully in the moment.
And fuck, but he wanted to hear Owain command him again.
His eyes fluttered, his strokes picking up a little more speed as he coating Owain's fingers in saliva, the slightly salty taste of his own precum on his tongue.
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He bucks forward and shuts his eyes when Poe sucks his fingers, fucking hard into Poe's fist and pushing his fingers in to feel the soft wetness of his tongue. He rubs his thumb over Poe's bottom lip and thrusts into each stroke with louder moans, louder, he's gonna be fucking shouting at the top of his lungs by the time this is done. He keeps this going, fucking into Poe's mouth with his fingers until he can see how slick and wet they are, and then he draws them back, taking a breath.
This is another thing he only has the basest of experience with, but fuck, he doesn't care. He leans back, prying his dick out of Poe's grip, and he rests himself more on Poe's legs than his waist, arm behind him on the mattress to keep steady. He arches himself up with one leg and reaches beneath himself to find his hole, which he slowly starts to fuck with one finger Poe made slick for him. It's-- tight, he's not even sure he'll be able to fit two fingers inside himself, let alone Poe's cock-- but he grunts, and he stretches, and he's aggressive, too aggressive than he needs to be as he puts on a show, forces that hole open.
He inserts his second finger and he looks up at Poe, eyes dark, hazed over by lust and anger. Anger at everyone for making him feel for even a fucking second that he's worth less than what he is.
"Stroke your cock," he orders, and again, it's loud, too loud for where they are. "With-- your injured hand. Get ready for what I'm gonna do to you."
He grins, laughs, throaty and deep.
"I might be the one who's gonna get a dick in my ass, but you're the one that's gonna get fucked."
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But it also had the side effect of being fucking hot. Owain's anger may as well have been an aphrodisiac, as far as Poe was concerned. Because he felt it, too. It was a righteous anger and a rebellious one, and regardless of how everyone else in the universe might have felt about Owain, Poe gazed at him like there was nothing more fucking beautiful in existence.
He did as ordered - as soon as he was ordered - though his strokes were slow and even, his fingers flicking down to watch Owain prepare himself. It was too rough, and he had half a mind to tell him so - but kept his mouth shut. He was not telling Owain to do a damn fucking thing tonight.
"Fuck," he groaned, his cock pulsing a long line of precum down his shaft and over his fingers. "... Fuck, Owain--"
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He writhes on the tip of Poe's cock once it enters him, grunting hard through his teeth. Even this is almost too much for him to handle, with a searing pain all but tearing him apart, and he clenches down, too angry and inexperienced to fight the instinct and just relax. It hurts, but the slickness of his saliva and the precum coating him from the inside makes it bearable, and he doesn't care enough about the pain to stop. Poe is still dressed, but his nails find Poe's chest and he digs in for grip, scratching off a layer of skin and cutting small, tiny droplets of blood over flesh.
"Okay," he grunts. "Okay-- fucking-- back to me. Hand on my cock. Don't stop until I say you can."
He lowers himself further, pushing about a quarter of Poe's dick through that ring of tight, pink muscle until he has to stop and take a breath. He eases, a little, but it's not enough, and the pain is shooting up through his body and into his skull, giving him a headache.
But every little burst of pain - every shot that aches through him - makes his cock just fucking pulse, precum beading at the tip and flowing down in streams, completely covering Poe's hand, the bandage, his body beneath Owain. He fucking needs this.
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That brief moment of yearning for just a slow, loving consummation - and a deep flush blooms under his skin at the thought. Not now. Not when Owain was obviously trying so hard to prove something, if only to himself. But suddenly he just wanted to lose himself in Owain, every stroke taking a millennia and falling into a trance--
He was pulled out of it by the sharp pain on his chest, his breath hitching, lips parting wordlessly, but his cock throbbed hotly, another gush of precum sliding down his shaft even as the head was now buried in Owain's body, and he had to resist the urge to fuck up into him.
"... You gotta... Fuck, Owain, you're so tight, you got to relax--"
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Be a good boy? Was that what he was going to say? Owain falters, a little, and his resolve flickers, almost dies. He doesn't let it. He grits his teeth and keeps trying to move, sinking just a little further before he has to stop again, the pain too much. Fuck. Fuck! He digs his nails back into Poe's chest, and there's still anger in his voice, a determination that shakes under the weight of itself.
"I just--"
He digs his knees into Poe's sides, right at his hips. Telling him, silently, to fuck up into him, to fucking move, because it hurts too much to do this on his own and he just-- he wants this to just-- work. He's getting frustrated, and it's starting to show, and he chews the inside of his cheek as he tries to find what he wants to say.
"I just-- want us to belong to each other." There's too much anger in him for it to just fade, but it lessens, when he meets Poe's eyes. "I just -- want to do -- anything to you. Because you can do anything to me. Because it's-- us, my body is as much yours as yours is mine, I want us to just-- I just want to do this. Claim you. Be claimed. Equally. Fuck everyone else."
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Despite Owain's silent urging, he didn't fuck up into him - and instead shifted to pull himself out altogether. Before Owain had a chance to protest, he made a low shhh sound. He kept stroking Owain's cock with his bandaged hand, though he moved his free one to trace the line of precum from it with his fingers, gathering as much as he could.
"I... Want that too," he admitted in a low voice, before reaching under Owain with slick fingers and finding the abused ring of muscle that had been trying so hard to envelope him. He wasn't really going for stretching, exactly, as he pushed a fingers deep inside. He wanted to get Owain to relax, so instead he curled his finger, searching for his prostate, and massaging it firmly when he found it. "But I want you to feel-- amazing, Owain, you deserve to feel amazing--"
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He lets Poe touch him and his knees fucking buckle when Poe finds what he's looking for. He keels forward, eyes wide, and this is-- holy fuck, this is new, he's never felt this before. He pushes his hips back against Poe's fingers with a grunt, cock achingly, achingly fucking hard as the swell of weird half-pressure runs through him, this over explosion of nerves that makes him want to squirm and buck and move.
"Fuck-- fuck, holy shit? What are y--"
He cuts himself of with a long, long groan, biting down to keep quiet but arching his back, giving Poe further access. He doesn't relax, not yet, but everything inside of him feels like it's fucking exploding, and so much of his baseless hate and righteous anger is leaving him in waves.
"Poe-- fuck--"
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He doesn't let go, just he does shift so he can sit almost upright, leaning in to press warm, open mouthed kisses against Owain's chest.
"Fuck, you're beautiful-" he whispers, to himself, but in full earshot of the man sitting astride him. "You gotta... Relax, Owain... Focus on the pleasure, and before you know it, I'll be sinking deep inside you--"
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He can deal with it, right up until the last thing Poe says. The moan that breaks through him is fucking heaven, crashing far too loudly against the walls of the room. With shaking hands, he finds Poe's hair again, craning him back like before, angling down so he can kiss Poe almost violently hard in an attempt to shut him up. The way he whispered sent shivers straight to his cock alone, but-- sinking deep inside you--
"Shut the fuck up or you're gonna make me cum."
It's hoarse and commanding, whispered right against Poe's lips as he pulls back, breath ghosting over them. He adjusts himself, a little, keening back against Poe's fingers, and when the firm but teasing push against his prostate is too much for him to deal with, he lets go of Poe's hair and slumps forward, completely weak.
"Just-- fuck-- come on, I need this, don't drag this out. You gonna make me beg? Tell you how badly I want this?"
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He moans again when Owain tells him to shut the fuck up. "Tempting..." He admits, his cock leaking almost continuously. Tempting, but fuck, he needed this so badly.
"Fucking tempting," he reiterates, his hand slipping off of Owain's cock for a second, elbow bracing to keep him upright, the other hand slowly dragging his fingers from Owain's body. With the palm of his hand he spread the new precum over his own cock, then angled it to line up with Owain's body. "Relax, and press down on it, slowly, as your body adjusts, alright?"
He lay back, so that he could slowly roll his hips upward, pressing firmly until the right ring of muscle suddenly gave way enough to let the head of his clock back inside. "Fuck--" he whispered, his other hand gripping Owain's hip and slowly but steadily guiding him down onto his cock. "Fuck, Owain---"
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He rushes things, at first. Pins himself down on the first few inches of Poe's cock all at once, taking more than he should and biting his lip when it stings. He's impatient, he's young, he wants to handle this better - wants to get taken care of like he was in his dream. He hisses and he adjusts, leaning his weight into Poe's hands as he slowly, slowly lets himself sink, forcing himself to relax and open up to Poe in the way he's being taught.
It takes a while, but Owain is fucking determined to see this through, and he sinks lower and lower until Poe's balls are right against his ass and every mind-shattering inch of him is stretching him apart. He still has that instinct to just tighten, to wring each nerve in Poe's cock, but the way he looks at him, the way he whispers - it's enough to keep Owain relaxed, enough to keep him in check.
"I'm gonna..."
He's sweating, looking almost dazed when he meets Poe's eyes, half-lidded and darkened by lust. He takes a long breath, chest rising, abs tightening.
"I'm gonna... move. I'm gonna try to move."
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He's almost nervous in a weird sort of way, which surprises him. Maybe it's because Owain keeps wincing, but he doesn't think so. It's something else. He can't put his finger on it.
When Owain bottoms out, Poe groans, rubbing his thumbs into the hollows of Owain's hips.
"... Yeah... Yeah, alright."
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He starts to rise, and he can feel himself stretching and making way for Poe. He tries to keep eye contact the whole time, but once he starts hitting a rhythm he just-- clouds over, focused on the feeling of tight pressure filling him from the inside. His dick twitches and leaks fresh lines of precum every time the flared ridge of Poe's head brushes hard over that spot that just keeps fucking ruining him, and he's not moaning, not yet, he's going too achingly, achingly slow for that, but his lips part in voiceless need.
He fucks himself down on Poe about half a dozen times before he has to stop, skin red and flushed from exhaustion, knees shaking. He almost acts like he's waking up when his eyes drift back into focus, and he grins, dopey and kind of stupid, laughing easily from within his chest. Completely relaxed. No more anger.
"Fffffuck." He arches his neck down, finds Poe's ear, breathes against it. Bites the shell of it, right at the top, laughing again.
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Owain's grin draws an immediate one in reply from Poe, his eyes crinkling with warm. He pushes himself up a little more upright, but still can't quite meet Owain's lips, so he presses a few clumsy, warm kisses to his chest.
"... You're going to... drive me completely insane," Poe murmured, almost a complaint, if there wasn't a deep well of fondness to the words.
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Again, he rides Poe's cock for about four long, perfect seconds, and then he's back down, resting entirely on Poe's waist and breathing hard through his mouth. He's panting, labored and unsteady, and he raises both of his arms back from Poe,resting his hands on top of his own head and laughing out again. Fuck.
"Fuck, you're gonna have to-- just--"
He scratches through his hair and then rests his hands on Poe's shoulders, one hand drifting down enough to stroke slow, gentle motions against his collarbone. He'd been talking a big game, up until a moment ago, but this is Poe. This is what Poe does. Fucking ruins him, resets him to happy instead of subservient like Kes.
"Can you-- I want-- I want you to fuck me," he finally spits out. "I want-- you-- to fuck me. Please."
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He considered telling him to move, but- decided against it. Instead, he moved the hand on Owain's hip to the small of his back - spreading warm fingers over his spine - and used his other hand to brace hard against the bed below. Keeping his hand firm on Owain's back, pressing him down against him, he rolled his own hips up, thrusting firmly deep into the man straddling him with a soft grunt.
Fuck, yeah, that was just fine. At least for a few thrusts. Each was slow and a little too spaced out, withdrawing only half way before thrusting deep again, and Poe was working his bottom lip between his own teeth, gazing up at him.
"You tell me exactly how you want it, and I'll give it to you," he whispered, thrusting up to make a point. "Any way you want it--"
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But this is already too much, and he doesn't think he could handle that, not yet. He stays uncomfortably still as Poe fucks him, just-- adjusting-- until he can put a boundary between what he's feeling and what he wants. He shuts his eyes, tries to will down everything he's feeling to something more manageable, then carefully starts rocking his hips back into each thrust. It's slow, miniscule, but it's an attempt and that alone is a huge god damn sign of his agency in this.
When Poe thrusts up to make that point, he buckles down, already feeling his load boiling at his base.
"Just--" He takes a breath, looks down at Poe, open and vulnerable and trusting and ready. "Just-- if you make me cum-- don't stop? Keep going-- until I-- again. Okay?"
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He started to roll his hips with a far less staggered rythym - each stroke leading into the next with a smooth thrust, deep, a little harder and a little sharper with each stroke. He could feel the strain in his arm where it braced the bed - the muscles clearly delineating, sharp under his skin, the veins running down to his wrist clear and taut. It took more focus than another position might have done, but that was just find by him. He didn't want to lose himself in this - not yet. Now that Owain had mentioned it, all he wanted was to make the man come while riding him, and only then give in.
So he kept a careful eye on Owain's face, panting as he fucked up into him, the pace getting a little faster and a little harder with every thrust despite himself.
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He doesn't notice he's cumming at first. His eyelids flutter shut rather than squeeze tight as they always do when he unloads. That boiling, aching buildup in his balls doesn't quiet leave him, doesn't quite give way to an explosion of wracked fire and heavy panting - but he can feel it, he can feel the jets of cum leaving him, he can feel waves of static bult through his legs and he looks down as he watches himself shoot, handsfree, over Poe's stomach and chest. It doesn't feel like he's hit his climax, not really, even though he's steadily softening and cooling down, but if he was barely able to contain himself before--
His refractory period, however fucking short, overwhelms him with sensitivity. He grunts and bucks hard against Poe's cock, coming alive, arching back and breathing hard, muscles shifting under skin as he tightens, clenches hard, squeezes Poe's cock for everything it's worth. He's moaning and writhing and pinning Poe down but he wants-- he wants--
"Fucking-- fuck me-- fuck me, fuck me," He's barely breathing, cock already back to full mast, jutting through the air and desperate for contact. "Fucking-- hard? Hard, hard, come on--"
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He pulled Owain's hips up roughly toward him, encouraging him to put a leg up over his shoulder as he grabbed the base of his cock and lined himself up once more.
He pushed into Owain like a hot knife through butter, taking him balls deep in one, smooth thrust. He gave him maybe half a second to adjust before he was drawing out and the snapping his hips forward again, punishingly hard. He had a stupid smug half smile on his lips as he gazed down at Owain, fully planning on giving him exactly what he asked for.
"Oh, I'll fuck you," he promised huskily as he began to thrust, all of his weight behind every thrust deep into Owain's body, not sparing a damn care in the world for how hard he took him. "I'll fuck you so hard that you'll see stars and yet not be able to remember how to scream--"
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It hits him, with so much fucking clarity, how much he still just wants this on his own terms. None of this is about being a Pledge, or about fighting his role as a Pledge, or-- anything. He just wants Poe to fucking ruin him.
When he thuds back against the bed he moans, and he can feel it vibrate in his lungs with how loud it is. He reaches one hand back to grip the back frame of the bed and he holds on tight as Poe fucks him, each piercing thrust making him gasp. He doesn't have time to adjust after he pulls out for the first time, so when Poe fucks him he curves his spine off the bed and screams loud enough that he's pretty sure someone's gonna come knock on the door to make sure he's okay.
But he still wants control, even like this. Even as he listens to Poe's promises, half-lidded and needy, cock jerking and flexing hard, squeezing so, so tight around Poe, he still wants control. Equal control.
So it takes a minute for the desperation to pass, for the pure fucking lust to get wiped off his face, but when it does, he's smiling, hazy and well-fucked and happy. He reaches his hand out to Poe, drawing his nails back over the mark he left there, raking his fingers through the edge of his own cum. He acts like he's soothing Poe, suddenly, whispering shhh as if Poe needs to be fucking eased into this, eased into it as Owain was, as if he's the one who just screamed, and through all of this, he still finds it in him to laugh. Low. Challenging. Tightly, tightly wound, like it could snap into a wave of screams and begging at any moment.
"Yeah," he whispers, bringing his hand down to his own cock. He strokes it once, runs his head over the too-sensitive head and bucks back against Poe, hard, hard. "Nngh-- yeah. You're a good boy, Dameron. Fuck me so hard I'll be feeling it for a god damn month."
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He'd felt mostly in control of himself, even when his restraint had snapped. Still felt like he was making decisions for his body, not the other way around.
But then Owain called him a good boy.
He flushed, darkly, and instantly - hadn't even known he could, with so much blood in his cock, but he did - his skin suddenly flamingly hot - his hips bucking hard to meet Owain's hips. He began to drive into him with a reckless abandon, each punishing thrust causing his balls to smack against Owain's ass with a dull slapping sound, pinning him hard into the sheets and then pulling almost the entire length out before slamming it back in again. It was very clear he was following orders.
He had absolutely no control at all, despite the position, and he had lost any ability to tell what his mouth was doing - cursing and grunting with every thrust. His impending orgasm came on extremely suddenly, his bucking hips turning a little more frantic, but he wasn't done--
"Hurt me--" he blurted out, far less of a promise and far far more of a plea. This was begging. "Hurt me, Owain, or I'm going to come right n-- fucking-- hurt me--"
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He brings his fingertips to Poe's back, eyes all but rolling into the back of his head with each slap against his ass. He scratches up Poe's spine with one hand, finds his master's hair, holds tight in black curls and pulls him closer with an almost angry sounding ffffffffuck hissed through his teeth.
He pants, right up against Poe's ear, as he tries to find his voice.
"Do you really think... that'll stop you?" His voice is a whisper, and it's fucking drowning in barely contained restraint. It's wavering, tremoring, but his intentions are hard and solid, and he rakes his nails on his free hand down Poe's back, tearing at skin. "I... I c-- I could bruise you. Choke you. Make you bleed-- make you cry-- and... and all I'd have to do is tell you what a good boy you are-- tell you how much I fucking need this, need you, need you to fuck me, how much you're fucking helping me, how much you mean to me, how fucking-- insanely-- insanely, perfect your cock is-- and you'll be filling my ass with cum."
He curls his fingernails in, digging hard, as much for grip and stability as an intent to hurt. He snaps his neck back again, twisting his hips in weak miniscule fractions to get more friction against his cock, clenching his ass as tight as he can to keep Poe inside of him longer.
"You're-- you're a good boy, Captain Dameron," he says, rolling the words over his tongue, tasting the complete fucking breakdown of power, stripping the word Captain of any its authority. "So fucking good. Behaving for me. Being a good, good boy. Good boys deserve a reward, Captain. And I-- I wanna make you come."
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