There are nights where Oswald – no, Glen, it's Glen now, especially after the ceremony, Jack has to keep reminding himself of that – where Glen is gentle with him. There are nights where Glen lays him down on sheets of velvet and silk and takes his precious time and makes him squirm and gasp and plead for more, more.
Now is not one of those nights.
Tonight, Glen has him by the braid, jerking his head back as his other hand falls between Jack's shoulders, pushing him face down onto the bed. Jack groans as his braid is yanked and twisted and his knees dig into the bed to give himself purchase, making his legs splay that much wider in the process.
And Glen seems to just like it.
"Is this what you do for your customers, too?"
Jack quivers because the answer is yes, yes, yes, anything as long as I am closer to her (or was it closer to him, now) – but he says nothing and simply buries his face into the bed as much as he can, no matter the hold on his braid.
"Is this how you show them you want it – by arching your back like the whore you are, shoving your hips back and begging for it?"
Hearing it in Glen's voice makes it all the more sinful – his low, smooth, calmingvoice, now rough around the edges and purring in Jack's ear as he feels Glen's hips jerk forward, the hard line of his cock pressing against the curve of his ass. Jack whimpers, sinks his teeth into his lower lip, and does exactly what Glen says he wants to do: his back bows, his hips arch, and he grinds himself backward, begging,desperate.
"You are such a good boy. How much would something like this normally cost, hm?"
Jack babbles out some number as oil is poured into his lower back, smeared downward, slick and messy and dripping between his thighs as Glen's fingers massage into the cleft of his ass and then against him, pressing inside – long, elegant, skillful fingers working him and making him moan like the whore he definitely is as the fuck him.
And he wants more.
Glen is telling him all sorts of awful things. How no matter how many people he's been fucked by, he's still so tight – so hot, so good, even just wriggling around his fingers right then. Jack feels his erection throb with nearly every word and he's sobbing into the pillows by the time Glen's cock presses against him as slick as his fingers, those same hands gripping his hips hard enough to bruise before he slides in to the hilt and makes Jack arch with a scream.
Glen isn't gentle and Jack is glad, so damnably glad that Glen is fucking him like this, fucking him into the bed and making him his. He wants to be someone's more than anything and the fact that Glen is bearing over him, holding him down, biting his shoulder and marking him with teeth and nails and the hot splatter of himinside of him when he comes makes Jack sob with relief, spilling himself as well and hiccuping with every hard breath that is drawn into his chest.
"I'm your whore," he mindlessly, desperately whispers, doubting Glen hears him but not caring because having at least said it will have to be enough.