Chapter 21
Cain
The look on Patrick’s face as he processes my words is priceless.
“You mean…” he trails off, wanting to hear me say it. It’s going to be a long, painful night for him, so I give him this one thing.
“That these straps have never touched anyone’s skin but yours? Yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”
Without another word, Patrick lies back down, arms overhead, and each of his feet pointing toward a corner of my bedframe.
He’s splayed out like a sacrifice.
A willing sacrifice.
After tying each of his extremities to a corner, I straddle his hips and thrust my cock along his.
He shudders and his abs contract. The hitch in his breathing tells me just how close he is.
Yeah, this one’s gonna hurt.
Needing his pending orgasm to abate just a little, I land a swift upstroke to Patrick’s balls, but instead of having the desired effect, he spreads his legs wider and moans, “Do it again.”
“And have you come so soon? I don’t think so.”
I crawl up his body on my knees until I’m straddling his face, feeding him my cock as I grip the headboard. Patrick tilts his head back so he can swallow me more easily, but the angle still isn’t right to let me in as deeply as I want to go, so I remove his pillow.
This time, when I punch my hips forward, I feel his throat spasm and hear him gag.
Tears leak from the corners of his eyes, but he trusts me to fuck his throat without suffocating him.
Or maybe he wishes I would suffocate him.
I arrive at the edge of my orgasm faster than I would like, but I’ll have plenty of time to recover while I’m torturing Patrick. I grip his hair in my fist.
“I’m gonna come, Kitten. Are you ready?”
I feel his throat tighten like he’s trying to make a sound, except in order to make noise, you have to be able to exhale…and he can’t.
But his eyes say yes.
I know he’ll need to breathe soon, so I don’t hold back as I come down the back of his throat. Pulling out as soon as the last pulse of my cock abates, I slide the pillow back underneath his head so he doesn’t aspirate on cum. I’d hate to have to explain that to the emergency room.
Patrick’s chest is heaving with deep breaths, but there is no fear or anger in his eyes.
“The only problem when you do that,” he pants, “is that your cum never hits my taste buds. I swallow you down without ever tasting a drop.”
Gripping his jaw, I force his mouth open and place the tip of my softening cock between his lips, allowing him to lick me clean.
Once my sensitive dick has had enough, I scoot down Patrick’s body, lube my hands, and begin double-fisting his dick.
He drives his heels into the mattress so he can fuck up into my hands, and I press down on his lower stomach to prevent him from moving, knowing that pressure will heighten his arousal even further.
“Ahh,” he exhales, writhing beneath my touch.
Holding the base of his cock firmly, I swirl my cupped palm over the head of his dick until his whimpers and cries have my own cock stirring again.
When he tries to move out of my hold, I switch the rhythm back to normal stroking. His cock jumps in my hands, telling me he’s teetering on the edge. He’s just not saying anything because he wants to come and he thinks I’ve forgotten how to read his body.
Unfortunately for him, it’s as easy as reading the English language.
Since his cock needs a break and a chance to cool down, I push his thighs wider and drop between his legs, pulling his balls into my mouth one at a time. I feel him pull against the straps with his wrists, but I know they’ll hold tight.
Knots are a specialty of mine, both in the OR and out of it.
“Oh, fuck. Cain, please,” he whimpers above me, making me smile as I suck him harder before gently biting the skin of his sac.
I can’t reach his asshole with my mouth in this position, but my fingers are still drenched in lube, and I rim him with my index and middle fingers while continuing to nibble his balls.
Patrick keeps twisting his hips, and I know he’s seeking friction for his cock against my cheek, but I evade every attempt.
Seeing him this needy has my cock leaking, and I need to be careful as I move around in this position, pressing it against the mattress, or I’ll blow before he does.
“You always ask so nicely when you want something from me,” I tell Patrick, teasing him with the tip of my finger against his hole, applying pressure, then backing off.
Through clenched jaws, he snarks, “Maybe you should try it sometime because you always seem to be an even bigger prick than normal when you want something from me.”
“Do I?” I ask, driving my finger all the way inside his ass.
His back bows off the bed before he tries driving himself forward onto my hand further.
Careful to avoid his prostate, I fuck him with my fingers until I’ve got three worked inside him. The head of his cock is so swollen, the skin stretched so tight, it looks like it might pop any second.
I wrap my mouth around it and feel Patrick’s body shudder in relief.
“Oh, fuck yes. Keep doing that.”
I don’t, of course.
I pop off his dick as soon as I feel it swell ever so slightly.
“You fucking bastard!” Patrick cries, making me chuckle; my exhaustion from the day no longer weighing me down.
“You need something, Kitten?”
“Oh, go to hell, Rosemont,” he fires, forcing a smile across my face.
I edge him twice more. I get him so fucking hard that a slight breeze could set him off. Unfortunately, by now, I’ve lost control, and I fear I’m in the same position.
Quickly undoing the straps at his ankles, I force his knees into his chest, line myself up, and slam into him in one hard thrust, knocking the breath from his lungs. His hole is coated from the excessive lube on my fingers, and the sensation has my balls preparing to unload.
I go completely still in an attempt to stave off my orgasm, but then Patrick opens his fucking mouth.
“Ohmygod, Cain. Please fuck me. No one knows what I need like you do. I’ll do anything. Just move, PLEASE!”
I pull out and drive back in, letting my orgasm consume me. “Shit, I’m gonna come. Fuuuuuuck.”
Unable to hold back, I flood his ass. Angling my hips up, I rail against his prostate until a fountain of cum erupts from his dick, hitting him in the chin, the chest, and pooling on his stomach, all without his cock ever being touched.
His ass spasms through his release, milking every drop from my balls until I’m sensitive as fuck and I pull out of his body.
“Plant your feet on the bed. Keep your knees bent,” I instruct, wanting to see my handiwork.
As my cum begins dripping from his hole, I use two fingers to shove it back inside, fucking him with it until his body is convulsing beneath me from being overstimulated.
Finally untying his wrists, I watch him as he rubs the sore spots. The straps are soft, but he fought against them pretty hard, and the skin is raw.
“You should let me put some Aquaphor on those and wrap them,” I tell him.
“Whatever you think is best,” he replies. The tone of his voice is a dead giveaway that his walls are going back up.
Retreating into my bathroom, I come back with what I need. When he’s all bandaged up, my stomach growls loudly.
I just want to fall into bed. It’s two a.m., but I know if I don’t eat now, I’ll be miserable tomorrow.
“Stay with me while I eat.” It’s a command, but it comes out dangerously close to a question.
“I should get going. I’ve crossed too many lines tonight,” he admits.
“So getting fucked by your client is okay, but watching him eat is too much?”
“Cain,” Patrick groans.
“Patrick,” I return in the same tone.
“Fine, let’s go get you fed, and then I’m leaving.”
We’ll see about that.