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“J-Jayce-“ Viktor’s voice cracked as Jayce slammed himself to the hilt with a loud grunt, pressing Viktor’s smaller body into the bed as if to smother him, to crush him so close that they couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began, “Jayce, Jayce, a-ah, ah-“
“So fucking gorgeous.” Jayce growled, hips snapping like a piston, “Little like a doll, pretty as one too, but strong as fucking iron, fuck. You can take anything I give you, can’t you, doll?” Viktor moaned, more alluring than the sexiest prostitute at the most high end Zaunite brothel, and Jayce wanted to eat him, eat him alive. He was so tight, so warm and wet, so perfect around Jayce’s cock, like he was made for him, like this bright star in a sea of dim bureaucratic bulbs had been put in Jayce’s path just to take everything Jayce had to give.
And Jayce had a lot to give to Viktor Lenkov.
“H-Harder-“ Viktor moaned, grasping calloused hands at Jayce’s shoulders, fumbling like he wasn’t sure where to touch, like he wanted to touch all of Jayce but only had two hands, “More, please, my Jayce, you’re so good…” Jayce let out a shuddering gasp at the praise, his hips speeding up, and he noted distantly that he would almost certainly be leaving bruises on the backs of those pale thighs. He’d feel vaguely bad later, but for now the image filled him with a possessive satisfaction that settled deep in his gut, Viktor’s praise ringing in his ears like the bells of the undercity as he fucked him like his life depended on it, like he’d die if he didn’t ruin Viktor for anyone else.
“Mine.” Jayce growled, sweat beading his brow as he drove his piltie wild beneath him, “All mine, all fucking mine, no one can fuck you like I can, no one can ever compare. I won’t let anyone even try.” He hitched Viktor’s legs up higher around his waist, grasping those thighs with hands big enough to nearly connect at the fingertips, fighting the urge to squeeze them until Viktor cried out like a bullied concubine, and gods wasn’t that an image to think about later, probably too much to be healthy. His left hand caressed Viktor’s bad leg with a tenderness that belied his rough thrusting, dragging up and down the soft skin as he supported it through the intense fucking. Viktor’s comfort came first, and Jayce chose not to think about that too hard, lest he start worrying about going soft.
“Yours.” Viktor mewled, for once not commenting on his arrogance, “Yours, all yours, and you’re mine, my Jayce-“ It wasn’t enough, he thought deliriously, looking down at Viktor like a wolf slavering over a fresh kill. It wasn’t enough, he needed more, more of Viktor, more of that pretty blush and those bright eyes, more of those intoxicating moans falling from cracked lips like fucking flower petals, more more more, Jayce felt drunk with desire, heady, wild, fuck, when did he get so weak for a fucking piltie?
Probably the day said piltie put him on his ass with his cane after a smart comment about his notes.
“Ain’t no one gonna take you from me.” Jayce found himself saying, hoping the wild hunger in his gaze didn’t scare Viktor away, “No one gonna disrespect you, no one gonna lay a hand on you. I’m your loyal dog, baby, you’ve got a wolf on a leash just waiting to be set loose”
He would die for Viktor. He would kill for Viktor. He’d set Piltover and Zaun ablaze just to keep him warm. He’d tear his beating heart from his chest and offer it to Viktor with bloodied hands if only he’d give him that mischievous smile, that snorting laugh, the one Jayce wanted to bottle and pour into his lungs so he could live off of it.
“No, Jayce.” Viktor moaned softly, the sound like a warm summer breeze as he tangled his fingers in Jayce’s hair, looking into the fire of Jayce’s eyes and not flinching away, “I’ve got a partner that I would do anything for. You’re perfect, and you’re mine.”
Fuck. Jayce was never letting this man go.