Stigma Love's Algorithm [ A BTS x Reader Poly ]

Chapter 85: Need like Prayer 🔥

My fingers are tangled tight in his hair, dragging his head back just enough to watch his lips stretch around my cock, then slamming him forward again until his nose is pressed against my skin.

He gags, whines-God, he whimpers-and I groan deep, low, filthy, from somewhere in the pit of my stomach.

"Yeah," I snarl, hips thrusting just enough to make him choke again.

"That's it. Look at you, fucking drooling for it. My good little slut."

He moans in response, a high, desperate sound that vibrates around me.

His tongue slides along the underside, tracing every vein, then circles the head like he's memorizing it-like he's grateful to have it.

My cock twitches in his mouth and he moans again, needy, like he's the one being satisfied by this.

"Does my baby like my cock, hmm?"

I growl, wrapping his hair around my fist and yanking his head up to meet my eyes.

His lips are swollen, spit smeared across his chin.

"You gonna be good for me tonight?"

He nods, eyes glassy, pupils blown wide with lust.

"Yes, Yoongi. I want it-I want you."

The way he says it-like he's confessing something shameful and holy all at once-almost makes me lose it.

But I don't.
I won't.
Not yet.

I push his head down again, making him take me deeper, watching as his throat flexes, taking it like he was made for this.

His fingers clutch the sheets, knuckles white, his body shaking as he tries to keep up with the pace I'm setting.

"Fuck, baby..."

I grit out, breath hitching as he bobs his head faster, tongue flicking and swirling.

He's moaning around me-muffled, frantic, fucking hungry. Each sound he makes sends another jolt of fire down my spine, makes my grip in his hair tighter, rougher.

I can feel myself getting close.

The way his tongue licks at the underside of my cock, the way his throat clenches around me when I shove him deep-it's too much, and still not enough.

I want to ruin him.

"Goddamn, look at you,"

I hiss, yanking his head back again. His mouth pops off me with a wet, obscene sound, and he's panting, face flushed, lips glossy and parted.

"You're so fucking pretty like this. Desperate. Messy. Mine."

"Yours," he gasps, voice wrecked.

"I'm yours."

He doesn't even hesitate.
Doesn't flinch.

He wants it-wants me to take everything.

I slap his cheek-more of a possessive tap than anything-and he whimpers, leans into it.

"Yeah? You want to be owned, baby?"

He nods so fast it looks like he might break.

"Then open your mouth and take it like a good boy."

He does. God, he does-mouth wide, tongue out, eyes looking up at me like I'm his whole fucking world.

I thrust back in, slow at first, watching his lashes flutter as he sinks into it.