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

Chapter 86: Counting Down to You 🔥

"You'll come when I say," I hiss.

"And not a second before. You understand me?"

He moans-a raw, wrecked sound that's nothing short of surrender.

"I said do you understand me?"

"Yes, Daddy-I understand-please, just-please-"

I reach forward, wrap my hand around his throat again, and slam into him with renewed force, dragging out another scream.

"Good," I whisper darkly.

"Now stay there. Don't move. Don't breathe wrong. Daddy's not nearly done with you yet."

I grind in deep, circling my hips, making him feel every inch of me. His hands scrabble for the sheets, his body trembling with tension.

Then I pull out. Slow. Teasing. Cruel.

A strangled sob breaks from his throat.

"No-please, please-"

I slap his ass once, hard enough to echo.

"You don't get to beg for release, baby. You take what I give you."

"Please-"

Another sharp thrust-he gasps, back arching again-but I stop before he can fall over that edge. Again.

"You feel that?" I lean forward, voice dark in his ear.

"That's your body trying to come without my permission. That's not allowed."

He's panting, sweat dripping from his temple, knuckles white on the sheets.

"You want it?" I whisper.

"Yes-please, please, Daddy-"

That word-it always tears something loose in me. My grip tightens. My breath hitches.

"Then earn it."

I start a rhythm again, punishing and slow.

A sharp snap of hips, then I withdraw almost completely. He tries to push back onto me-I grab his hips and still him.

"No. You stay right there. You don't move unless I tell you to."

He shudders, and I can feel it-the need rolling off him in waves, his muscles straining for control he no longer has.

"Good boy,"

I breathe, thrusting deep and sharp, again and again, my tempo increasing until he's a trembling, whimpering wreck beneath me.

"My perfect little toy."

He screams into the pillow, body quaking with tension as I keep him there, right on the edge-so close, so full, but never falling.

My hands are on his waist, my chest pressed to his back now, breath hot in his ear.

"Do you know how fucking beautiful you are like this?" I growl.

"Wrecked. Ruined. Completely at my mercy."

"Daddy-please-I can't-"

"You can," I snarl. "You will."

I feel it again-that telltale tightening in his body-and again I pull back, just enough to keep him from falling. He sobs, raw, torn between agony and bliss.

"Not yet, baby. Not until I say."

And I keep going.

I keep him right there-held tight in my grip, body shaking, voice cracked and begging-until we're both teetering.