Chapter 23 Earned It #2
I do, and he strokes his hands over my cheeks, pulling them apart to inspect the plug again. This time, he grabs hold of the base and tugs at it, and I gasp as my rim stretches around the widest part. He fucks it in and out of me a few times, and I moan in protest.
“I’m so close. Please…”
“The plug isn’t enough, hmm?” He pulls it out. “You want my cock?”
“Yeah. I need it.”
“Get on the bed.”
I get on all fours, and the bed dips with his weight as he crawls up behind me.
“Ready, puppy?”
Every time he says that word, something tender and wanting unfurls within me.
I don’t know what it is. I just know it feels a little like happiness, just for a second.
When he calls me by that name, it feels like I can leave everything else behind and just be a good puppy for him, like nothing else in the world matters except opening up my hole to let him inside.
I glance at him over my shoulder. “I’m ready.”
My ass is already stretched and lubed up from the plug, so he sinks inside easily, though his cock is a lot wider than the plug. Even through the slight burn, I moan, and when the pain turns to pleasure, I let out a quiet little sob, the heart at the front of my choker swinging as I hang my head.
Fuck, how I’ve longed for this. During these last few days, part of me feared I’d never get to feel him this close ever again. But now I’m getting it. I’ve earned it.
“Mm, fuck, puppy,” Mason groans. “I won’t last long.”
I don’t mind. I don’t mind as long as he fills me up with his cum and holds me close, as long as he slings his arm around my waist like that and pounds me hard and deep, grunting his pleasure into my ear.
I fist the sheets and whine into the mattress, trying to muffle my sounds. When we’re wrapped up in ourselves like this, it’s easy to forget we need to be quiet. We can’t make our pleasure known to the world. Only to each other.
Mason’s arms cover mine, and his hands close over my fists gripping the sheets. Our bodies move as one, a perfect rhythm of pleasure. He kisses the back of my neck, his sweat dripping onto my shoulder blades.
“Ready, puppy?” he grunts into my ear.
“Yes,” I whimper. “Please.”
His hips stutter, and he bucks into me hard, filling me with his cum. When he pulls out, my hole clenches, wanting something else inside. Mason settles between my legs and lifts my hips, exposing my pulsing hole. He slides two fingers inside, making me gasp.
“Mm, what a well-bred little puppy hole,” he murmurs, stroking those fingers along my prostate in a tantalizing rhythm, coaxing his cum out to coat his fingers and ease the glide.
“D-Don’t call it that,” I gasp, but my hips lift from the mattress unbidden, seeking more.
Mason pulls his fingers out. “No? But you want to be filled, don’t you?” When I don’t reply, he strokes the outside of my rim without pushing inside, just teasing me.
I groan in frustration. “Yes. Please… please fill me.”
“Fill your little puppy hole?” He presses one finger inside, too shallow, too slow.
I arch my back, desperately wanting him to spread me wide and push his fingers deeper. I force the words out, saying something I wouldn’t say if I weren’t right on the cusp of an orgasm. “Please… Please fill my little puppy hole.”
Both fingers return, sliding against my slick walls and stroking back and forth over my prostate. “That’s right,” Mason says, breathing heavily. “This is my little fuckhole, and I’ll call it whatever I want.”
“It… it’s yours. Your fuckhole,” I moan, my eyes rolling back at the heady submission. It feels good to let go. It feels good to let him have me—all of me, if only just this once.
“Touch yourself, puppy. Let’s get you off.”
Part of me has forgotten I even have hands, so focused on the pleasure shooting from my ass. I fist my cock, jerking it desperately, and together with Mason’s relentless strokes on my prostate, it doesn’t take long until milky drops of cum shoot from my cock, spraying the sheets below.
I convulse helplessly, biting the sheets to muffle my cries, all thoughts escaping my head and leaving me floating.
“Mm. Good boy.” He pulls his fingers out and strokes them slowly over my rim.
Electric pulses of pleasure shoot through my body, and I moan with the aftershocks. As I collapse onto the mattress, I can’t help but smile, exhausted but happy. So, so happy.
Mason strokes my lower back soothingly. “How’s your collar?” He reaches over and gives it a tug.
“Tight,” I gasp.
“Good. You like it that way, don’t you? You like to know you belong to me.”
“I do?” I ask. “Belong to you?”
“Of course you do. You’re wearing my collar, aren’t you?” He keeps stroking my skin underneath the choker, playing with the heart pendant. “This is my mark on you, just like the bruises and the bites.”
“Mm,” I mumble sleepily, happily.
Mason climbs over me and settles against my side, and he keeps stroking my skin, back and forth over my buttocks, my thighs, and up to my shoulders.
“All of this belongs to me. This sweet little hole.” He dips his fingers into my crease and strokes my sore rim.
“This pretty neck.” He closes his hand around my throat.
“And this cute little mouth.” He brings his hand to my lips.
Unthinking, I open my mouth and invite his fingers inside, and I moan as he leans in and kisses me hard on the mouth, indulgent and dominant.
“Everything,” I sigh happily.
“Everything,” Mason agrees.
We lie like that, kissing and cuddling for a while. I smile into his kisses, giggle when he brushes my cheek, and everything feels unreal, floaty, perfect.
It can’t last forever, though. Soon enough, Mason shifts and sits up, and I know I have to leave.
He helps me into my clothes, and before he kisses me goodbye, he pinches the heart-shaped pendant on my collar thoughtfully.
Then, he brings me my butt plug, letting me feel the weight of it in my hand and the slick residue from the lube.
“I want you to wear this at night from now on. So you can be nice and ready for me.”
I suck in a shaky breath. “And my collar?”
He inclines his head. “And your collar.”
I smile at that, not knowing why. I really like my new collar. It suits me so well, like he said.
“One more thing, puppy.”
I nod, both eager and nervous to hear what he has to say.
“No more night-only rules. You come when I say.”
I frown. “But Oliver…”
“He won’t know. He’s too wrapped up in his own shit. And let’s just be honest, puppy—you can’t keep this to nights only. You need me every hour, every second.”
He’s right, but… does he need me, too? I want to ask, but I don’t dare. What if he says no? What if I’m the only one who harbors this strange addiction? This filthy, desperate thing inside me that can’t stand to be away from him for too long?
It’s not supposed to mean anything. It’s supposed to be just sex—filthy, possessive, desperate sex, but just sex nonetheless.
But if it means nothing, then how can he kiss me like that?
How can he cradle my face and look into my eyes?
And how can these feelings that stir within me render me unable to think rationally, unable to sleep without getting my fill of him first?
I don’t know. All I know is that it’s dangerous, but I also know I’m long gone, far beyond the point of no return. I’ve stepped into wild, unpredictable territory, and I don’t know if I’ll make it out with my heart intact.