Kazza’s Reviews > Hush > Status Update

Oh man, rough punishment sex. Far-fucking-out!!!!

Rune reminded himself again of how much he’d scared Oliver lately, in so many ways. He understood Oliver’s impulse to pin Rune down, to chain him and overpower him and physically conquer him. Because in that moment, spread, bound and fucked, Rune had no escape. He had given himself over completely to his Master. Though he had his safe sign (...)

I'm going to slap you into next week, Rune,. I swear it:
Unlike Rune, Oliver had people who would miss him. Who counted on him. He wasn’t disposable in the same way. There was a pain in Rune’s chest every time he thought of himself as disposable, but he ignored that too, pushed it behind the wall to be ignored along with everything associated with Oliver.

Jackson held on too. He had to. It was a need from the core of his soul. He held on hard enough to bruise, breathing that kid’s scent, pressing his lips to Rune’s dark, soft hair. Keeping Rune’s slim body flush against him like he could do it forever and keep him safe like that endlessly. But there was no saving Rune, so there was no saving Oliver.

Jackson shoved harder, seeing in memory the pain in Oliver’s face from that morning, how this kid—this fucking kid—had the man Jackson loved as much as his wife in a cage. But the cage was in water and every step Rune took away from safety caused the water level to rise higher. Oliver was drowning. Doomed. Because of this fucking kid. And what the hell could Jackson do about it? Nothing.

There were a lot of boxes, which Rune had never asked to move to Oliver’s place, like he was keeping one foot out the door. It gave Oliver a pang of unease and sadness, to know Rune didn’t fully trust their relationship would last.

The hand curled behind Oliver’s neck, the fingers twining in his dark hair. Oliver entered him with a complete thrust, bottoming out hard. Rune arched, his head fallen back against Adam’s shoulder, his chest heaving. His ass was in torment—swollen from overuse, sensitive from the endless fucking and from the ginger. Sex had never felt so good or hurt so much.

Rune searched the tablet’s screen, the room—anything—for a clock, a watch. There was nothing. No way to track it. It seemed to go on forever. Oliver kept stroking him, stirring lust even as the torment grew. Rune didn’t adjust to the burn. It only compounded on itself. He was still crying; knew he would have been ashamed of the sounds he was making if he could hear them.

Holy cow, there is some intense punishment sex in this book. Lubeless, ginger, implements, bondage included. Sometimes rage-fuck sex because Rune pushes and Oliver pushes back.

Rune glimpsed Oliver, turning his head to manage it, seeing only his chest, hips, and legs. Oliver gripped Rune’s shoulder for a minute, hesitating. He thought, this is when it’ll happen. Oliver will call it off. Kick me out. But, he didn’t. He removed the wrapped hand from the bowl, feeling the joints, the bones of his fingers, the center of his hand and wrist.