[ He felt stupid, his pride hurt, but the stupidness was mostly exhaustion because this whole situation was insane. Maybe if he was the cop he could swim through it on autopilot, but he was trying to use intelligence circuits that at the moment he just didn't possess, and it had been amazing he'd managed to remember the gun let alone use it to stop Ray's attack.
Armando. He had to be Armando. God, Armando would shoot him in the belly and call his guys to take him out to the desert. He couldn't be Armando. He had to be sharper about this, had to get his mind back in the game and stop thinking about how hard it was to hold his shooting stance when his aching legs wanted to collapse underneath him.
But the sense is coming back now. He can see it in Ray's face too, in his submission: he realises what a dumb fucking move he's made. Good. Fuck. God, that had been amazing, amazing sex, nevermind that one of them hadn't wanted it. He hated himself for it, but that orgasm... If only he'd been able to enjoy it for a few seconds longer.
He jerked the gun up carefully, maintaining his control, keeping his finger off the trigger since he was trembling and didn't want to set it off accidentally. The last thing he wanted right now was to shoot Ray by accident. ]
Yeah, sure that's what it is. Not you wanting to rip my cock out through my throat and fuck me with it. Not that at all.
[ He shuddered. It was taking everything he had to keep his arm up, but little by little the wakeful feeling and surging adrenaline of almost getting beaten to death with the nearest object was giving him back all the feeling in his limbs, letting his racing heart return to normal. The music was still playing. ]
Listen. This can be over; done; you and me. We both know beating isn't gonna fuck you up more than you already are, and there's enough surface scratches to make you look real good for Mikey too, so how about you be a good little piece of ass and get in that cage. [ He cocked his head over to one side, indicating it. ] We can have a little chat about how this rescue is going to go down and then I leave you be, let you sleep it off, shower your come off me and maybe even give you back your clothes.
[ Maybe it was too lenient considering the attack on his person, but Ray was exhausted and Armando was too. He could pull it off as mercy. ]
Then you leave. You get to tell a nice story about how I tortured you for three hours and you didn't break, I get to tell my guys how I fucked you with an Italian sausage and then fed it to the state's attorney. Cause the alternative, right now, is I shoot you and leave you to bleed to death. I can't deny I'm thinking about it.
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Armando. He had to be Armando. God, Armando would shoot him in the belly and call his guys to take him out to the desert. He couldn't be Armando. He had to be sharper about this, had to get his mind back in the game and stop thinking about how hard it was to hold his shooting stance when his aching legs wanted to collapse underneath him.
But the sense is coming back now. He can see it in Ray's face too, in his submission: he realises what a dumb fucking move he's made. Good. Fuck. God, that had been amazing, amazing sex, nevermind that one of them hadn't wanted it. He hated himself for it, but that orgasm... If only he'd been able to enjoy it for a few seconds longer.
He jerked the gun up carefully, maintaining his control, keeping his finger off the trigger since he was trembling and didn't want to set it off accidentally. The last thing he wanted right now was to shoot Ray by accident. ]
Yeah, sure that's what it is. Not you wanting to rip my cock out through my throat and fuck me with it. Not that at all.
[ He shuddered. It was taking everything he had to keep his arm up, but little by little the wakeful feeling and surging adrenaline of almost getting beaten to death with the nearest object was giving him back all the feeling in his limbs, letting his racing heart return to normal. The music was still playing. ]
Listen. This can be over; done; you and me. We both know beating isn't gonna fuck you up more than you already are, and there's enough surface scratches to make you look real good for Mikey too, so how about you be a good little piece of ass and get in that cage. [ He cocked his head over to one side, indicating it. ] We can have a little chat about how this rescue is going to go down and then I leave you be, let you sleep it off, shower your come off me and maybe even give you back your clothes.
[ Maybe it was too lenient considering the attack on his person, but Ray was exhausted and Armando was too. He could pull it off as mercy. ]
Then you leave. You get to tell a nice story about how I tortured you for three hours and you didn't break, I get to tell my guys how I fucked you with an Italian sausage and then fed it to the state's attorney. Cause the alternative, right now, is I shoot you and leave you to bleed to death. I can't deny I'm thinking about it.
So do we have a deal or not?