This is a bad idea. He knows it is, even as she shoves Mike to the bedroom, his thumb pressing slightly against the pulse thumping hard in the other's throat. He should back off, leave Mike to get himself off and go find somebody harmless and pretty to fuck. Instead of the guy who got him hooked on oxycontin and fucked up his life.
But it wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be as hot or intense or rough. He can fuck Mike without worrying about hurting him because he doesn't care. He can't do that to somebody else. He can't work his anger out on somebody else.
So it's this. It's this and then he's gone. And next time he comes back, it'll be for work, and he won't have any anger to work out, and it'll be a normal cop-CI interaction. There won't be drugs and there won't be sex. There will be information exchanged and that's it. This is the last fucking time.
He shoves Mike face first down onto the bed, lets go of his arm to flip him over onto his back.
"Shut the fuck up," he snaps, yanking Mike's pants down just enough to bare his ass. And just to make sure Mike stays quiet, he puts a hand on his throat again and leans in to kiss him roughly.
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But it wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be as hot or intense or rough. He can fuck Mike without worrying about hurting him because he doesn't care. He can't do that to somebody else. He can't work his anger out on somebody else.
So it's this. It's this and then he's gone. And next time he comes back, it'll be for work, and he won't have any anger to work out, and it'll be a normal cop-CI interaction. There won't be drugs and there won't be sex. There will be information exchanged and that's it. This is the last fucking time.
He shoves Mike face first down onto the bed, lets go of his arm to flip him over onto his back.
"Shut the fuck up," he snaps, yanking Mike's pants down just enough to bare his ass. And just to make sure Mike stays quiet, he puts a hand on his throat again and leans in to kiss him roughly.