Siren Song - Chapter Seven

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Jon pushed in. The head of his cock breached that tight pink ring first, parting slick muscle with steady, unrelenting pressure. Siren’s breath hitched sharp in his throat, body tensing beneath Jon’s hands as the impossible girth stretched him open. Jon never stopped, but he moved with exquisite gentleness, rolling forward in a smooth, controlled glide, giving Siren time to adjust to every thick vein, every pulse of heat.

He watched Siren’s face the entire time, unable to look away.

Siren’s eyes were squeezed shut, long lashes trembling against flushed cheeks. His plush lower lip was caught hard between his teeth, bitten white as pain twisted his delicate features: forehead creased, brows drawn tight, a faint whimper escaping on every exhale. His slender fingers gripped Jon’s forearms with desperate strength, nails digging deep crescents into invulnerable skin; had Jon been human, he’d have worn dark bruises tomorrow like badges of this moment.

The sunset bathed them both in warm rose and gold, Siren’s pale body glowing against the marble parapet, Jon’s broader frame casting a protective shadow as he sank deeper, deeper, until half his length was buried in that impossibly tight hole.

“You good?” Jon asked, one hand sliding up to cup Siren’s jaw, thumb brushing gently over the bitten lip.

“Y-yeah,” Siren breathed, the word shaky but certain. His eyes fluttered open, glassy, pupils blown wide with pain and want, and met Jon’s with nothing but trust.

“Can I keep going?”

“Yeah,” Siren whispered, nodding faintly, thighs trembling where they gripped Jon’s hips. “D-don’t stop… just give me a second, okay?”

Jon stilled instantly, buried halfway inside that clenching, slick heat, every muscle in his body tensed tight with the effort of holding back. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to Siren’s forehead, his closed eyelids, the corner of his bitten lip, tender, grounding touches while Siren breathed through the stretch, body slowly relaxing around the invasion.

The city glittered far below, painted in the last light of dusk, but up here there was only this: Jon’s steady heartbeat against Siren’s racing one, the warm breeze carrying jasmine and sweat, and the slow, careful surrender of the thief who had brought a Superman to his knees and now taking him in return, inch by inch.

Siren nodded, a small, shaky dip of his head, silver eyes still glassy but burning with permission. Jon pushed forward again, inexorable, another thick inch sliding into him. The drag was exquisite, velvet walls clenching around him like they were trying to pull him deeper and hold him forever. Siren’s breath stuttered, body trembling as he adjusted to the stretch, thighs quivering where they gripped Jon’s hips. When Jon was more than halfway in, Siren let go of a moan that was pure sin: low, broken, dripping with pleasure-pain, the sound spilling into the open sunset air like liquid gold. His head fell back against the air, raven hair spilling over, throat arched in helpless surrender.

He was balanced precariously now, his ass perched right at the lip of the thirty-story drop, nothing beneath him but empty air and the city far below. Jon’s hands were the only thing keeping him from falling: one arm banded firmly around Siren’s lower back, the other braced beside his hip on the stone, anchoring them both.

Jon loved it.

He loved the pure, breathtaking trust of it, how Siren had let himself be maneuvered to the very edge, legs spread wide, body impaled and open, life literally balanced in Jon’s invulnerable grip. Siren couldn’t know for certain that Jon would never let him fall, that no force on Earth could pry him from Superman’s hold, and yet he’d surrendered anyway, offering everything, pleasure, safety, his life itself, into Jon’s hands without hesitation. The knowledge surged through Jon like heat vision, possessive and fierce. He would never let him go. Jon leaned down, pressing his forehead to Siren’s, breath mingling as he held still, letting him adjust.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, voice rough with something more than lust.

Then, carefully, tenderly, he pushed the rest of the way home.

Siren threw his head back and screamed, the sound tearing through the open sunset air and echoing across the empty space between towers. It was loud enough to carry, sharp enough to turn heads in distant windows if anyone happened to glance up at the rose-gold sky.

Once again, Jon was vaguely aware that anyone in the neighboring buildings could be watching, phones already out, recording the silhouette of Superman claiming a thief on a penthouse balcony.

Once again, he didn’t care.

He wanted them to see. Let them film it, upload it, let it spread across every screen from Metropolis to the stars. Let the whole galaxy know: Siren belonged to him now.

“All good?” Jon asked again.

Siren took a moment to answer, chest heaving, sharp breaths sawing in and out. His whole body spasmed in the most stunning way, slick walls clenching rhythmically around Jon’s buried length, thighs quivering, pale skin flushed deep rose from the stretch and the pleasure-pain of being so utterly filled.

“You’re so fucking big, Jon,” he finally managed, the words ragged, broken on a whimper as another aftershock rippled through him.

“I know, darling,” Jon murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against Siren’s sweat-damp temple, thumb stroking soothing circles at the base of his spine. His hips stayed locked flush, cock throbbing deep inside him, savoring every flutter. “You got it.”

Siren’s silver eyes fluttered open, a shaky smile curving his swollen lips as he nodded faintly. Trust absolute, surrender complete. Jon stayed there for the longest time, bodies locked together in the fading light. He could have stayed like that until the end of time if Siren needed it: unmoving, just holding him safe on the edge of the world. But not quite long after, Siren started to move beneath him in small, experimental rolls of his hips, a subtle grind that dragged Jon’s cock along his inner walls and sent sparks skittering up both their spines. The message was clear: I’m ready for more.

Jon drew back slowly watching Siren’s as he slid free, the slick drag pulling a soft, needy whine from those swollen lips. Siren’s hole clung to him, pink ring stretched wide and glistening, fluttering desperately around the retreating girth. Then Jon pushed in again, just as slow, just as deliberate, sinking deep in one smooth glide until his hips met Siren’s ass and he was seated fully once more. Siren’s back arched off the parapet, a broken gasp spilling into the open air.

He did it again. And again.

Each withdrawal deliberate, each thrust measured and deep, building a gentle, relentless rhythm that had Siren trembling harder with every stroke. On the fourth slow push, when Jon bottomed out and held there, grinding just enough to nudge that perfect spot inside, Siren moaned again. This time, however, the moan was pure, unadulterated bliss: high and sweet, ringing out over the city like a confession, body melting open around Jon as pleasure finally overtook the pain.

Jon smirked, leaning down to brush his lips against Siren’s ear, buzzing with satisfaction.

“There you go,” he murmured, hips rolling in a slow, possessive circle that drew another shattered moan from Siren’s throat. “Told you you could take it, darling.”

“Oh, Jon,” Siren gasped, the words fracturing into a desperate plea as his body rolled helplessly beneath him. “Don’t stop… please, don’t stop.”

There was nothing, absolutely nothing in the entire multiverse, that could have made Jon deny that wish. He began fucking Siren for real. The gentle, careful rhythm dissolved into something deeper, harder, faster, his hips snapping forward with controlled Kryptonian power, each thrust driving his thick length to the hilt in one smooth, possessive stroke. The slick sound of skin meeting skin echoed off the marble, mingling with the distant hum of the city far below. Jon pulled back almost to the tip before slamming home again, over and over, building speed until the parapet itself seemed to vibrate with the force of it.

Siren reacted accordingly, beautifully, perfectly.

His lithe body arched and shuddered with every deep plunge, back bowing off the stone, head thrown back so raven hair spilled like ink over the edge. Those high, broken moans turned into continuous cries of pure bliss, shameless, ringing out into the open sunset air. His thighs clamped tighter around Jon’s waist, heels digging into the small of his back, urging him deeper, faster, harder. Nails raked down Jon’s sweat-slick shoulders, leaving faint red trails that healed almost as quickly as they appeared.

Jon felt every spark of pleasure Siren did, maybe even more. The heat gripping him on every thrust, the flutter and clench around his cock when he hit that perfect spot inside, the way Siren’s smaller body yielded and took him so completely. It was overwhelming, intoxicating. Every moan Siren gave him fed the fire in Jon’s blood, every desperate roll of those narrow hips stoked it higher. He leaned down, mouth finding Siren’s in a messy, open-mouthed kiss, swallowing those cries, tasting jasmine and surrender as he drove into him relentlessly. Jon’s powerful frame dominating, muscles flexing with every thrust; Siren spread and impaled beneath him, pale skin flushed deep, silver eyes glazed with ecstasy. Jon claimed what was his, hard, deep, and without mercy, until Siren’s pleas dissolved into wordless, keening sobs of overwhelming pleasure, body trembling on the edge of another shattering release.

He was completely gone.

Siren’s silver eyes had rolled back, lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks, plush lips parted on a stream of broken, breathless cries that spilled into the dusk like prayers. Every thrust Jon gave him drew another shattered sound, higher and more desperate than the last, until Siren’s voice cracked into nothing but overwhelmed need. Jon kept increasing the speed, hips moving in a blur no human could ever match, relentless snaps that drove his thick length into Siren again and again, slick and merciless. The marble parapet trembled faintly beneath them; the air itself seemed to hum with the force of it. If it was overwhelming for Jon, he could only imagine what it felt like for a human.

To be fucked by a god.

Siren was completely at Jon’s mercy. There was no resistance, no fight for control, just perfect, pliant surrende, every inch of that lithe frame yielding beautifully to whatever Jon wanted to give. It surprised him, in some distant corner of his mind.

He’d expected Siren to be as commanding in bed as he’d been in the jewelry: teasing, in control, silver tongue issuing orders even while bent over. But this version, this submissive, trusting, utterly wrecked version that let Jon fuck him however he damn well pleased, hard and deep and fast until tears gathered at the corners of those silver eyes, was so much better.

Jon didn’t slow. He couldn’t. Not when Siren was taking him so perfectly, not when every cry and clench and shudder screamed yours.

Jon kissed Siren again. He dragged his mouth lower, showering the sharp line of Siren’s jaw with hot kisses, then down his throat. Teeth grazed sensitive skin before he bit down, not hard enough to break, but firm enough to mark, sucking dark blooms across pale flesh that would linger for days. Anyone who saw Siren tomorrow would know exactly who he belonged to now. He licked a hot stripe across one dusky pink nipple, tongue swirling around the rigid peak before closing his lips and sucking hard. Siren’s reaction was immediate, stunning: a high, keening cry tore from his throat, back bowing off the parapet, tight walls clenching hard around Jon’s cock like a vise. So sensitive there, just the flick of a tongue, the graze of teeth, and Siren shattered further, trembling violently.

Siren never stopped moaning, imploring sounds that grew more desperate with every thrust, “More… Jon… please… more” spilled from his lips like a litany, voice wrecked and needy. His arms looped around Jon’s neck, pulling him down until their sweat-slick chests pressed flush, no space left between them. Siren clung as if he couldn’t bear even the thought of separation.

“Oh God, Jon, please, please,” Siren begged.

“You want more, darling?” Jon asked.

“Y-yes, please,” Siren gasped. “Make me fly, Jon. Take me to the stars.”

The plea hit Jon like a solar flare, impossible to resist, and, without thinking, in one surging burst of instinct and power, Jon rose. His arms tightened around Siren’s body and he launched them skyward. The marble parapet fell away beneath them in a rush of cool air, the penthouse shrinking to a toy in seconds as Jon shot straight up, Siren still impaled deep on his cock, bodies locked together in seamless union.

Siren screamed, this time in startled surprise, arms flinging tighter around Jon’s neck, legs clamping vise-like around his waist as the city dropped away below. The sound dissolved into breathless laughter, high and exhilarated, mingling with Jon’s own free, joyous laugh that rang out into the open sky.

It was the best feeling in the world, flight, freedom, wind screaming past, multiplied by a million now that he carried Siren with him. Higher and higher they climbed, the overheated skin of their joined bodies welcoming the rush of colder air that whipped away sweat and jasmine alike. Metropolis shrank to a glittering patchwork far below, lights winking like scattered stars, until even that faded into memory.

Everything around them became the golden sky, the sunset bleeding into deep indigo above, the last rays of rose-gold light gilding their bodies as Jon leveled out, hovering effortlessly in the boundless quiet. Siren’s raven hair streamed wild in the wind, pale skin glowing against Jon’s sun-bronzed muscle, thighs trembling but still locked tight around him.

Jon didn’t stop moving, hips rolling in slow, deep thrusts now, suspended in the heavens, fucking Siren among the clouds with nothing but open sky and dying sun as witness.

Siren’s head fell back as Jon gave him exactly what he’d begged for: the sky, the stars, and the relentless, perfect claim of a god who had finally chosen his worshipper. Jon fucked Siren with abandon, every last restraint shattered. He drove into him hard and deep, hips snapping with superhuman force and precision, no caring for the world below, no thought for consequences, only the blinding, perfect boy wrapped tight around his cock and the golden sun at his back fueling every thrust, every surge of power that let him claim Siren like no one else ever could.

The sun warmed Jon’s back like a living thing, yellow rays pouring strength into his cells, making him invincible, unstoppable, every photon a reminder that he was super, a god in this moment, and Siren was his to worship and ruin in equal measure. Jon could feel his orgasm building. He recognized the same signs in Siren too: the frantic flutter around his cock, the way those spectacular thighs trembled harder against his hips, the broken, rising pitch of every cry that spilled from swollen lips.

Jon began growling low, animal sounds rumbling from his chest as he buried his face against Siren’s sweat-slick neck, inhaling deep. Jasmine and sex and raw, desperate want flooded his senses, overwhelming him completely, drowning out the wind, the sky, everything but this perfect body in his arms. Siren wasn’t even making sense anymore. Any coherence he’d had left behind on the penthouse balcony, words dissolved into pretty, boneless mewls, high and needy, spilling helplessly into the golden sky. He was a pliant doll in Jon’s grip: limbs loose and trembling, back arched in continuous surrender, head lolling against Jon’s shoulder as every thrust rocked him higher, deeper into ecstasy.

They came together, as if they’d timed it, as if the universe itself had aligned every atom for this one perfect moment. Jon roared, the sound tearing from his chest like thunder rolling across the heavens, primal and loud enough that every radar and sonar in the city below probably spiked. His hips slammed forward one final time, burying himself to the hilt as his orgasm crashed through him, hot, blinding pulses spilling deep inside Siren, taking him fully, breeding, marking him from the inside out in thick, claiming waves.

Siren cried out beneath him, high, shattered, a beautiful sob of overwhelmed bliss as his own release hit. His perfect little cock, trapped and rubbing between their sweat-slick abs, burst in pearly streaks, warm ropes painting Jon’s stomach and chest, marking him in return as his body spasmed wildly around Jon’s buried length, milking every last drop.

The sun was almost completely gone now, the sky shifting from rose-gold to deep purple and then navy, the first stars pricking through the velvet dark like distant witnesses. Those same stars exploded behind Jon’s closed eyes in white-hot bursts, vision whiting out as pleasure consumed him whole.

They clung together in the open sky, Jon’s arms unbreakable around Siren’s trembling frame, Siren’s legs locked tight around his waist, bodies pressed so close there was no space left for the world. Wind whipped gently around them, cooling overheated skin, carrying away the scent of their release as they shuddered through the aftershocks, hearts hammering in sync. Jon didn’t move to pull out. He stayed buried deep, possessive, riding the last pulses as Siren whimpered softly into his neck, utterly spent, completely his.

Above the city, beneath the emerging stars, Jon held his thief close and let the night settle around them. For the first time in days, maybe ever, everything felt exactly right.

“Ok?” Jon asked, voice tired but warm, a soft rumble against Siren’s sweat-damp skin as he held him close in the quiet aftermath.

Siren just nodded weakly, face pressed to the crook of Jon’s neck, breath still coming in shallow, trembling waves. After a moment he pulled back just enough to look up, silver eyes hazy, lashes clumped with tears of overstimulation, lips swollen and curved in a small, sated smile.

“I think you ruined me for other guys, Jon,” he whispered, hoarse and sincere. “I don’t know how I’m ever gonna have sex with humans again.”

Jon laughed, loud, free, the sound rolling out of him like sunlight breaking through clouds. He’d never felt like this before: victorious, invincible, as if he’d just dived straight into the heart of an exploding star and absorbed every last spark of its power. The sun was gone now, the sky deep navy and pricked with the first true stars, but Jon felt lit from within. Siren was still looking at him like that: awed, worshipful, utterly claimed. And with that gaze on him, Jon knew nothing could touch him. Not humans, not metahumans, not aliens or ancient gods or new ones rising from the void. Darkseid himself could descend right now, Omega beams blazing, parademon swarm blotting out the stars, and Jon would crush him without breaking a sweat.

He tightened his arms around Siren’s smaller body, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Jon murmured against damp raven hair, voice rough with satisfaction and something deeper, something permanent. “You’re not going to.”

Siren shivered in his hold, not from cold, but from the quiet certainty in those words, and nestled closer, boneless and trusting, as Jon held them both steady in the vast, starlit sky.

The city glittered far below, oblivious. The night stretched endless above them, full of stars and silence and the steady beat of two hearts that, for now, belonged only to each other.

CHAPTER EIGHT

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