Chapter 8 I’m a Good Boy
I’m a Good Boy
Leo
I might have developed some kind of a split personality.
I was essentially Davidson Sullivan’s prisoner.
He’d made it clear I wasn’t going anywhere without his permission, permission he wouldn’t provide anytime soon.
At the same time, I had to constantly remind myself that he was with me in the house, near me, or I’d freak out again.
The doors were locked and the alarm on, but it wasn’t so bad. My prison had a pool, a sauna, a couple of well-stocked bars, and a garden view.
When I climbed out of the pool, his muffled voice came from the office, the door on the other side of the atrium ajar, and I exhaled heavily. He was still here, which was a relief. And a threat.
He’s your dream dragon. You know he won’t hurt you.
No, I didn’t know shit. I only knew he was by far the best fuck of my life, and I craved his inhumanly huge dick like water.
Also, he could do strange things to my nipples, sucking clear milk out of me, which weirdly felt better than any spa treatment ever.
His scent served like a highly personalized aphrodisiac, and the sound of his voice made me forget that any semblance of free will was a good thing to have.
Maybe free will was overrated. What if I could just let him suck me dry and fuck me into oblivion?
Preferably while gagged and tied up, my skin covered with welts from a proper whipping.
And I’d said no bondage. Yeah, right. Desires like this made it clear I shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions about my own life.
I’d managed to escape one abusive bastard, only to throw myself into the arms of a mythical creature capable of tearing me apart like a napkin.
I should have been shivering with dread, but instead I was fantasizing about which kinky things a literal monster could do to me.
No panic attack in sight—I even liked the idea of those locked doors.
I’d be a good little omega, like he said, and maybe he’d fuck me again soon.
Maybe I could do something to make him a little bit annoyed so he’d spank me too?
Tracing my thought process, I came to the obvious conclusion: I wasn’t sane.
As I dried my skin with a towel he’d left for me, I inspected my chest. The bruises were faint—they’d be gone in a few days.
I cupped one pectoral and squeezed it. A clear drop pearled at the tip, and I swiped it up with my thumb.
When I licked it, the sweet, potent taste sent a shudder through me, my cock perking up.
I squeezed out a little more, realizing with wonder that not only the taste but even the sensation of the milk dribbling out aroused me.
Sliding my hand over my underbelly, I frowned. He claimed my body was changing for him. As if his cum had some magical powers. At this point, anything seemed possible. Maybe I should be more afraid, but the changes felt pleasant. The little cushion on my belly looked cute. Sexy, even.
I scoffed.
A dragon fucked his cum into you, and your hole soaked it up. You produce milk and are bloated like in heat. You’re objectively a freak of nature.
Staring down at my body, I waited for the panic to rise. And waited… Nothing.
Yesterday, a gentle clasp of his hand around my throat had sent me into a panic attack, but now I was chill. Another proof I was fucked-up in the head.
Wrapping myself in the bathrobe, I walked around the place he called a living room.
The floors held intricate mosaics of dark stone, and the tiles lining the irregular curved pool were black like coal.
The shape resembled a natural lake, and the water seemed like ink from certain angles.
What kind of person built a pool into their open floor plan?
Did he even like to swim? Or did he just like eating breakfast while watching water glimmer?
It cast reflections all over the place, giving it a cave-like atmosphere.
Behind the glass wall, trees and bushes of all shapes and sizes swayed in the wind.
That wasn’t a garden but more like a park surrounding the mansion.
He must employ a gardener to take care of all that.
Davidson seemed to like plants, which felt vaguely comforting to know.
The ground floor was full of them—potted palm trees, climbing things with weirdly shaped leaves, orchids, and succulents sprawled everywhere.
Without them, the decor would have looked truly creepy since the furniture and even kitchen appliances were all in shades of dark gray and black.
Another thing that struck me was the amount of alcohol everywhere.
One bar stood by the pool, lined by a few upholstered bar stools and shelves full of expensive whiskeys, many of the bottles half-empty.
The second bar counter was in the kitchen area with a well-stocked wine fridge at the end.
How much did the man drink? Could he even get drunk, being half dragon and all?
I didn’t want to think about that creature.
The memory of his tongue on me… Um. Monster-fucking was a common enough kink, right?
Just one more to add to the colorful collection I already had.
Anyway, I’d seen the dragon twice, and I still wasn’t sure he truly existed.
I was terrified of him while a part of me yearned to touch him again.
Cognitive dissonance, my old therapist would call it.
Whatever it was, it was giving me a headache, so I did my best to ignore it.
In the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of water. I was now too far away from the atrium and the office to hear him, and it made me nervous. Carrying the glass, I walked past the pool to the other side of the open space, closer to him. The house was silent. Had he finished already?
I should leave him be, but my legs carried me through the atrium. When I was nearing the open door to his office, my heart picked up. My bare feet slapped on the floor, and I slowed down, trying to be quiet.
“Leo?” His voice made my stomach drop.
“Yes?”
“Come in, please.”
I walked around the heavy open door and paused just inside his office.
Smiling softly, he sat behind his desk in a wide armchair that must have been custom-made.
Even sitting down, he looked huge. Those shoulders…
I swallowed, trying to rein in yet another surge of mindless lust. What was it about this man that made me so ridiculously hot and bothered?
I tore my eyes away from the temptation and glanced around.
The room looked like a library in a castle with a high ceiling and shelves of books lining the walls. Some volumes were bound in fabrics and leather, old and probably quite valuable.
“I collect first editions,” Davidson remarked as I stared at the intimidating stockpile. I got dizzy at the thought of how many words each book must contain.
“I don’t read,” I blurted.
Davidson raised his eyebrows.
“I mean, I can read of course. I just don’t read books.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I…can’t seem to focus. After a few minutes, the words on the page just melt together. It has always been like that, ever since I was a kid.”
“Have you tried listening to audiobooks?”
I gave out a helpless chuckle. “No.”
We were so different, him and I. Worlds apart.
Even wearing a simple T-shirt, he looked elegant, educated, and commanding. I felt younger under his scrutiny…and inadequate. How long until he realized what a mess I was? A few more hours? A couple of days?
“How old are you?” I asked and immediately froze. That had been rude.
But he didn’t seem annoyed by the question. “Forty-six,” he said, and I blinked. Already? He had a lot of gray by his temples and in his beard, but other than that, I’d never have guessed he was more than forty.
Almost twenty years of difference between us on top of everything else. Two decades of education, experience, and success. He must think I was a dumb kid. Why did it matter so much what he thought of me?
“Come here,” he said firmly.
Orders made everything easier. I could either obey or misbehave, and both had clear consequences, no hanging question marks or chaotic thoughts.
I loved the simplicity of orders. Relieved, I walked around the table to stand in front of him, and he rotated on his chair to face me.
“Did you have a good swim?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Not dizzy anymore?”
“No.”
Frowning, he seemed to inspect me, and I squirmed.
Wasn’t he pleased with my answers? He wanted me to be a good, obedient little omega.
He’d said so. Avoiding his gaze, I looked down, inevitably glancing at his chest and groin.
That bulge. Fuck. I could smell him, and that wasn’t helping my self-control.
Would he like me to service him?
Because I wanted to. I didn’t read, wasn’t educated, didn’t have any decent skills—all in all, I knew shit about anything. I’d learned early in my life that I was just a sexy package with nothing inside. But cocksucking? If that were a sport, I’d be the world champion.
I was restless and horny, and in front of me waited a sexy alpha I desperately needed to like me. The solution? Obvious.
After leaving the water glass on his desk, I slowly lowered myself to my knees. When I reached for his fly with shaking hands, he sucked in a breath.
“You don’t have to do this, Leo,” he said, his voice tight.
I risked glancing up, and a shiver ran through me when our gazes met.
His eyes glowed again, alight with orange flames, his dark eyebrows knitted together.
He looked so serious. Forty-six. Why did that information make me want him even more?
I wanted to please him and hear him say I was a good boy. A good fuckhole.
“Please.” I almost added the word “Master” but stopped myself at the last moment. That would be too much too soon, right?
Even so, my heart stuttered when I thought of calling him my Master. My dark, older, mysterious Master.