Epilogue #3
Arms I’d know anywhere encircled me, dragged me to the floor, and forced my face against the hardwood.
“Oh fuck! Yes!” I cried.
The butt plug I wore disappeared, and he roughly stripped my pants down my legs. Two thick, lube-covered fingers forced their way inside me. They fucked me hard, stretching me open before they disappeared and a hot, throbbing, rock-hard cock replaced them.
A hand gripped my waist as another held my head against the wooden floor.
The man behind me, riding my ass, fucked me ruthlessly.
Brutally. He stole my breath, and I panted, trying to keep the dissociation at bay.
I couldn’t let go and float away. I couldn’t miss a minute of this.
He would keep fucking me, and I would watch from that floating space I mostly loved, but not when it kept me from experiencing this fully.
His repeated intrusion—even after the stretch and finger fuck and having been plugged with the remote vibrating butt plug—still hurt.
I loved it. I relished it. Tears gathered in my eyes.
Sobs tore at my throat. And still he fucked me.
Used me. I was merely a vessel for his pleasure.
An inanimate object. A hole to be used and abused as he saw fit.
Cum spurted from my untouched cock, dribbling from the tip of my flaccid flesh.
And still he fucked me.
Through my orgasm, and past it, his cock ravaged me, pounding and pounding and pounding into my oversensitive hole, pegging me perfectly. The rattly, shaky, overstimulated, overwhelmed feeling ran through me.
Everything…
Everything…
Fuck!
It was too much. Too too much. Way too much.
Oh, fuck, not enough. Nowhere near enough.
I screamed. I babbled and cried and begged. I pleaded with him to stop. I demanded that he give me even more.
And all the while cum trickled out of my cock, dripping onto the hardwood under me.
Still, he fucked me. Deep, forceful thrusts that stole from me. Robbed me of thought and breath and…
“FUCK!”
I came again. Cum shooting from my cock onto the floor. “Breed me, Daddy. Fill me up!” I cried. Daddy’s movement stuttered, his cock swelled, and he fell over my back, kissing and biting and licking at my oversensitive flesh.
He stood, scooped me up into his arms, and carried me to the bathroom upstairs.
“Fuck, I love you, baby boy. My perfect, beautiful cock slut. Thank you.”
He kissed me gently, setting me down on the ledge he’d built in the large shower. It was the perfect height for him to bend me over or lay me out on, but sometimes, it was also the place aftercare started. He’d sit me down and cuddle me as he cleaned us both up.
“Too sweet, Daddy.”
“Nothing’s too sweet for you, baby boy,” he murmured against my lips, and I lost myself in him, floating away from reality. The only thing that mattered or existed was Slone.
Sometime later, once he released me from the cage, he cleaned me up and fed me, shoveling bite after bite of food into my mouth, refusing to let me do anything for myself.
“But Daddy, I can…”
He placed a finger over my lips. “I know you can, but I want to. Daddy wants to take care of his boy. You’re perfect, Trey. The perfect man, the perfect partner, the perfect sub, the best fucking boy, and you’re me. Thank you, baby, for giving me such an amazing gift.”
I sobbed. “I love you, Abraham Slone, so much.” I climbed onto his lap, kissing his lips, eyes, forehead, cheeks, and back to his lips. Passion flared between us easily, but I pulled away, gazing lovingly at his beautiful face while my fingers traced his features. “I have another gift for you.”
“You need to rest.”
I nodded. He was right. He’d fucked me exhausted. “Not that kind of gift.”
His brow furrowed.
“I was offered a contract,” I said.
His chin trembled, but he smiled anyway. “I’m so proud of you, baby boy. You’ve worked so hard.”
“Don’t you want to know where I’m going?”
“I figured New York now that Charlotte’s been cleaning—”
I shook my head. “I will never play for them. And I told her that when she called.”
“So…where?”
Reaching under the couch cushion, I pulled out a jersey, one with my name stitched across the back and the big Norsemen logo on the front. “I’m staying here. If you’ll have me.”
Tears flooded his face. “Fuck,” he sobbed, “I thought for sure I’d lose you when the offer came in. If not to New York, then some other team too far for us to figure it out.”
“We will always figure it out, Daddy. We’ve made it this far. I’m not giving up on us. Not ever.”
“Neither am I, baby boy. Neither am I.”
I waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
“Well?” I asked. “Will you have me?”
“Every day and twice on any day that ends in ‘y.’”
“Is that all?”
He pulled me to him and kissed my face. “I love you, brat. And moving will be easy. All you’ll have to do is change your address since you practically live here already.”
THE END