His Place

Summary: Oneshot. Haytham's patience had finally warn thin, it was time to teach Connor his ways once and for all.

Before Connor could even reach the door Haytham grabbed his wrist. The boys heart was racing, beating through his veins like the beat of a drum, a rhythm composed by non-other than Haytham, his own father.

He tried frantically to escape, break free before it was too late, because once it was done Connor knew there was no way he could return to what he once was. This was too much, too consuming. His father presence was intoxicating, like a fine British wine that wrapped around your senses leaving you giddy and slightly delirious. Yes you wanted it, but one taste was never enough. Escape seemed the only option lest he lose himself to his desires, his morals, to the whims of another… But Haytham was having none of that.

The grip on his wrist grew painful as the older man pulled Connor into a crushing embrace from behind. Before Connor realised what was happening, both hands were forced together behind his back and tied firmly with a thick piece of leather. The bonds were tight and firm, there was no getting out of them. Connor tried to protest but his all reason died on his tongue when another slipped into his mouth, circling and exploring. His own tongue fought bravely trying to push out the intrusion. Connor shut his mouth firmly and tried to turn his head away, but it only made Haytham grin into the kiss and bite down roughly on the boys bottom lip. Connor gasped and Haytham struck, massaging tongues in a fight that was over before it really begin. The obscene muffled keening noises coming out of Connors mouth only spurred Haytham on, until the boy beneath him was only a writhing mess of passion and lust.

Connor was pushed sharply until he landed face first onto the bed, panting and whining. He managed to spin himself around so he was lying on his back but he froze at the look on Haytham's face, a look of pure dark want and a small sadistic smirk to accompany. He felt like a rabbit caught in a snare.

In the next instant Haytham was upon him, straddling his hips and pulling his shirt over his head. Once Connors chest was exposed, he splayed his hands across it and scratched down roughly, leaving red rugged marks. Leaning forward he began to kiss Connors neck, which only led the boy to whimper and throw his head back, baring his neck subserviently. His whole body felt on fire. Bites followed the kisses, trailing down to the nipples which Haytham sucked and scraped finally making Connor crack and cry out in a strangled moan. He knew this was wrong, but he could not rember how or why.

"Oh Connor, moaning so soon?" Haytham whispered into his ear, "We're only just getting started, boy." Connor panicked, trying to regain his senses and desperately tried to move away but was yanked firmly back by Haytham, a low growl filling the air.

"Oh no, it's far too late for that Connor. You should have thought about that before you waltzed into my office being insolent and spewing that Assassin nonsense over and over until I could feel my ears bleed. I could handle it for a while, but this… Well, this is the last straw. You are my son, of my blood, and mine to mould as I see fit." Connors trousers were yanked down, off, and out of reach. "Mine to teach, mine to care for, and mine to control." The room was hot, much too hot. Haytham got up and discarded all his clothes before turning around and glancing appreciatively at the boy's naked form. A blush crept up Connors swear covered cheeks. "And I believe my work has only just begun."

Haytham pounced like a wildcat and was upon Connor again, kissing fiercely and precisely, and Connor could simply not get enough. Haytham rolled his hips down onto Connors, both their rock hard erections grinding together until Connor cries spewed from Connors lips and he could not stop them. He had never experienced feelings such as this before, the insatiable need that bubbled up within him that he never knew he had, the wanting beast within his chest that only Haytham could have unleashed. He was close now. He could feel himself tightening, pressure building. But just as he felt he had reached the edge of his struggle, Haytham withdrew and stood up from the bed. Crying out in anger, Connor sat up but was roughly shoved back by his father.

"Haytham, what-" Connor began to protest.
"Silence boy." Haytham circled the bed, a predatory glint in his eye. "I am your superior and you shall address me as such. Now, if you want this, you're going to have to ask me ever so nicely."
"How dare-!" Connor's stiff cock was roughly grabbed and the head massaged by the tip of Haytham's thumb. Sharp cries of pleasure and hard grunts of pain pierced the night.
"Hurry along and make your choice quickly now. I do not have all night, boy."
"Hay-" Connor was interrupted by a painful squeeze along his shaft. This was too much, he felt himself slipping and could not hold back. He had said the words before he even thought of them.
"Sir."
"Much better." He was rewarded by Haytham's other hand coming up and massaging his balls al at slow languid pace, almost with care. If Connor's hands were not tied he would be trying to grip on something, anything to keep a hold on what he had left of what was right, yet there was nothing but air. He could almost feel it, like sand slipping through his fingers. "What do you want from me, Connor?"
"More! Just- Please sir, let me- Sir!"

Both their erections were grabbed, joined by Haytham's hands as they rutted up against each other. Connor had given up his control, he simply wanted more. Screams echoed through the night, the cold night air circled through the room yet Connor felt nothing, only the feel of his father, and the pure pleasure building… Building…
"Who do you belong to boy?"
"Sir... I can't-!"
"Say it!"
"You sir! I belong to you!" And that was the last thing said by Connor, before he toppled into oblivion, streams of pleasure pouring out of him in waves. Haytham followed soon after a few quick jerks, splattering Connor's chest in his seed. Connor had never felt more alive. He came down from the high of his orgasm, but his mind felt like it had never left. His worst fears from earlier felt so far away, as if from a dream.

The silver of a knife flashed before Connors eyes and he would have panicked if he hadn't been so exhausted. The bonds of his hands were cut, leaving him free, this was his chance for escape.

Yet he did nothing but relax as Haytham came up behind him on the bed and held him close against his chest. The stickiness of his chest did not disgust him or put him off, he felt… Good, marked and wanted. He sighed peacefully, content next to his father. He fell asleep to reassuring patts of his head, and fingers raking through his hair. He had finally found his place.

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