Chapter 30 #3
“You’ve been preparing for me?” I ask. “Hoping for this?”
“Very much hoping,” he says. The longing running through his voice is so deep, I shiver. “And now you get the chance to make this yours.”
He turns and shows me, his ass crack slick with oil. I can’t touch, but I manage to grab his ass cheek in a bite, hands still lashed to the headboard, before he turns back and presses a hand over my mouth.
“You’re a little animal,” he says, like he likes it.
With incongruous delicacy, he flips up my apron to reveal my straining cock.
He licks his lips. Then he sits himself down on me, slow, savoring, eyelids flickering as my tip eases inside him, oil making the path easier.
He takes me deeper, engulfing me. My eyes close and I struggle to breathe.
He’s tight at the rim, and so hot, and he fits me like a glove.
“Fuck, yes,” he breathes. “You were made for me, Florian.”
It’s easy to figure out my line this time.
“Yes, Boss.”
He rides me, controlling the rhythm, controlling everything.
It feels so good and it sounds so good, slick wet noises as he moves up and down on me, taking his pleasure like the arrogant, in-control boss that he is.
Oil slicks over both of us and my breath speeds as I watch his dark eyes watching me.
Pleasure races through my body from my cock in hot waves.
I’m galloping at breakneck speed toward an epic climax.
Then he stops and sits still, with me deep inside him, and he’s just looking at me.
“Stop,” he says.
“But… but you’re so tight and good…”
A smile curls his lips. “Those aren’t your lines, Florian. I’m your boss and I say stop.”
I hold still, almost combusting with the strain. I’m so desperate to thrust my hips upward into his tight heat. But my obedience is stronger. My boss said no.
“What if I told you we’re going to stop for good right now?” he says.
“You wouldn’t?”
“What if I told you to get out of me right now? What if I told you I’m not going to let you come at all?” he breathes.
I whimper at the thought.
He laughs and it vibrates through his inner muscles all around my cock, making it even harder not to try to thrust again. What am I allowed to say? I’m allowed to say please, aren’t I?
“Please, Boss. Please, please… ”
He ignores my pleas. “Would you do that for me, Lord Florian, my little aristocrat?” he says. “Stay unsatisfied for your boss?”
Would I? I think about it, still poised deep within him and not allowed to move.
“I would, Boss.”
He looks at me strangely, his face suddenly serious. He dips his face close to mine.
“Lucky for you your boss isn’t that cruel,” he whispers. His dark eyes burn into mine. A drop of sweat falls from his chin onto my chest. “Lucky for you that your boss wants you to come inside him and fill him up. I’m going to drain every drop from you because you’re mine.”
“L-lucky for me,” I breathe.
Sweet torment swirls inside me, building toward a crescendo.
He gets back to work, riding me hard and fast. His breath gets shorter and shorter.
A look of ecstasy appears on his rocky face; I’m hitting his spot.
I close my eyes and let the sensation take me.
I think about how my boss is using my body just the way I wanted.
Using my slutty cock to bring himself to that level of pleasure.
How my own pleasure is up to him. Whether I’m even allowed to come is up to him.
Pressure builds. It gets overwhelming, and then my balls draw up and my release is like a cacophony and I realize I’m screaming his name as I come.
A spasm of pleasure shudders through my body like a summer storm.
The “cruel” edging was a stroke of genius by my boss, bringing me to a height of release that almost scares me.
The orgasm goes on and on and on, waves of joy cascading through every nerve.
I’m panting and wondering if I temporarily left the earth as I open my eyes.
But no, I’m still tied to the bed. Grimes intense gaze is locked on me, his seed trickling from his huge fist.
“I love you,” he says. His voice is rough from the rough lovemaking but the words ring true.
“I love you too.”
I figure he won’t mind a little rule-breaking with my lines in this case. He smiles, unties me, and pulls me into an embrace.
“Now say thank you for letting you come.”
“Thank you, Boss,” I whisper.
“Good. Now you’re going to stay with me and I’m going to take care of you forever and put your needs before my own,” he says. Each word is ground out at the edge of his breath, as though he barely has breath anymore.
His eyes are glassy and he looks almost out of it. I must have wrecked him as much as he wrecked me. Even so, I can’t let him say things like that. Things like always putting me first.
“Boss, that—”
“Florian,” he says. “Enough.”
I snuggle into his chest. “Yes, Boss.”
He cleans us both up, then places the blankets over me like I can do nothing for myself, which is half-accurate because I’ve never felt quite so post-coital before, limbs so relaxed and heavy I can barely move.
He gets into bed beside me and spoons me from behind, curling around me like a conch shell.
His warm breath tickles my hair. I don’t want to move a muscle to disrupt the balance between us.
I don’t want to leave his side. For the first time in my life, I have a home.