Chapter 7 #2
The position feels right in a way I can’t explain. Like I’m finally where I belong.
Slade stands, the movement fluid and controlled. He crosses the short distance between us, stopping in front of me. From this angle, I have to tilt my head to look up at him. His hand reaches out, fingers threading through my damp hair, gripping just tight enough to hold me in place.
“Do you understand why you’re being punished?”
“Because I flirted with Zara to make you jealous.”
“And?”
“And…it was manipulative.”
His grip tightens, sending shivers down my spine. “Good boy. At least you can admit it.”
The praise washes over me like warm honey, settling in my core. Good boy. Two simple words that shouldn’t affect me, yet they do.
Slade’s free hand moves to the waistband of his boxer briefs. He pushes them down just enough to free his cock, already hard. My mouth waters at the sight—thick and veined, the head flushed dark.
“Open your mouth,” he commands.
I obey without hesitation, parting my lips. His hand guides my head forward.
“Take me in,” he instructs. “Slowly. Use your tongue.”
I open wider, allowing the blunt head to slide past my lips. The taste is clean from his shower. I flatten my tongue against the underside, feeling the ridge of the crown as it passes.
“That’s it,” Slade murmurs. “Now suck.”
I create suction, hollowing my cheeks as I’ve learned he likes. His grip on my hair tightens in response, a grunt of approval escaping him.
“Take more,” he directs. “Halfway down, then back up. Find your rhythm.”
I follow his instructions, taking him deeper with each downward motion, then retreating until just the head remains between my lips.
“Use your hand on what you can’t fit,” Slade says, guiding my right hand to the base of his shaft. “Work it in time with your mouth.”
The dual sensation makes him even harder. I feel powerful despite my submissive position—capable of giving this controlled, commanding man pleasure.
“Look at me,” he orders.
I raise my eyes to meet his, continuing the motion of my mouth and hand. The intensity in his gaze makes my cock throb beneath the towel. His expression is focused, intent, pupils dilated with arousal.
“Good boy,” he praises, the words sending another surge of lust through me. “You’re learning quickly.”
His hips begin to move, shallow thrusts that test my limits. When I gag, he eases back.
“Breathe through your nose,” he instructs. “Relax your throat. Don’t take more than you can handle.”
I adjust my position, following his guidance. Each instruction makes the experience better, more pleasurable for both of us.
Slade’s breathing grows heavier, his hand tightening in my hair. “I’m getting close,” he warns. “But not yet. Not like this.”
He pulls me off him with firm pressure on my scalp. I gasp for breath, lips feeling swollen and sensitive. A thin line of saliva connects my mouth to his cock for a moment before breaking.
“Stand up,” he says. “Drop the towel.”
I rise on unsteady legs, the towel falling away as I stand. My cock juts out, flushed and dripping. Slade’s eyes drop to it, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Eager,” he observes. “But you don’t get to come yet. That’s part of your punishment.”
The denial sends a fresh wave of arousal through me. The contradiction confuses and excites me—being denied somehow makes me want it more.
“On the bed,” Slade orders. “On your back.”
I do as instructed, the sheets cool against my heated skin. Slade steps out of his boxer briefs, finally naked. His body is magnificent—strong shoulders, narrow waist, powerful thighs. His cock stands proud from a nest of dark curls, thick and intimidating.
He reaches into the nightstand drawer, retrieving a small bottle of lube and a strip of condoms. I blink in surprise.
“Where did you get those?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Slade glances at the items in his hand. “I bought them at the lodge gift shop while you were at the scavenger hunt with Zara.” There’s a hint of possessiveness in the way he says her name. “I thought we might need them.”
He climbs onto the bed, kneeling between my spread legs. “Have you ever fingered yourself before?”
“No,” I admit, heat rising to my cheeks. “Except for…just now in the shower.”
He studies me. “We don’t have to do this part if you’re not comfortable with it. There are plenty of other ways I can punish you.” His mouth quirks. “Plenty of other ways I can make you feel good, too.”
The offer to step back, to respect my boundaries even during our power play, only makes me want him more.
“I want to,” I say. “I want everything. With you.”
He nods once, reaching for the lube. “I’ll go slow,” he promises. “Tell me if anything hurts—and I mean actually hurts, not just burns or feels strange. That’s normal at first.”
“For a straight man, you know an awful lot about anal sex.”
Slade smirks. “I’ve never been with a guy before, but I said nothing about anal sex.” He flips open the cap, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers and warming it between them before reaching down.
I can’t stand the idea of Slade being intimate with anyone else, so I push that thought aside and try to concentrate on this moment.
“Bend your knees,” he instructs. “Feet flat on the bed. Good. Now relax.”
The first touch of his slick finger against my entrance makes me tense. Slade’s free hand settles on my hip, thumb tracing soothing circles.
“Breathe,” he reminds me. “Push out against me.”
I follow his directions, focusing on my breathing, on relaxing the tight ring of muscle. His finger circles my entrance, applying gentle pressure.
“That’s it,” he murmurs as the tip of his finger breaches me. “Good boy.”
The praise washes over me, helping me relax further. His finger slides deeper, the burn fading to a strange fullness.
“How does it feel?”
“Weird,” I manage as he pushes further. “But not bad.”
“It gets better.” He lowers his body over mine, his warm breath fanning across my skin before his teeth graze my neck. “Focus on this,” he murmurs against my throat before nipping harder at the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder.
The sharp pleasure-pain makes me arch beneath him. “Slade,” I gasp as his lips travel lower, teeth grazing my collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
I understand what he’s doing—creating a counter sensation to balance the intrusion. It’s working. My focus shifts from the finger probing inside me to the hot, wet suction of his mouth marking my skin.
The sharp scrape of his teeth intensifies as he latches onto my chest, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
I hiss at the delicious sting. He’s no longer being gentle—each bite carries intent, a claiming that sends heat racing through my veins.
His teeth sink deeper into the tender flesh where my shoulder meets my neck, breaking capillaries beneath the surface.
The sensation borders on pain but transforms into something more primal that has me arching up against him.
Slade chooses that moment to crook his finger inside me. A jolt of pleasure shoots through me, and I cry out.
“There it is.” He rubs the spot again, watching my reaction with hungry eyes. “Your prostate. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Fuck,” I breathe, hips lifting. “Yes.”
“Want more?”
“Please,” I whisper, beyond pride now, desperate for whatever he’s willing to give me.
He withdraws his finger almost completely before returning with two, stretching me wider. The burn is more pronounced this time, but it fades into pleasure as he finds that spot again.
“You’re opening up for me so beautifully,” Slade praises, working his fingers in and out with a steady rhythm. “Such a good boy. Can’t wait to have my cock inside you.”
This doesn’t feel like punishment, I think, not at all. But I bite my tongue, not wanting to say it aloud. I don’t want him to stop.
“Please,” I beg, not even knowing what I’m asking for.
“Not yet,” he says, still working me open with his fingers. “Need to make sure you’re ready. Don’t want to hurt you.”
He adds more lube, then a third finger joins the others. The stretch burns more intensely now, a mixture of pain and pleasure that has me gasping.
“Look at you,” Slade murmurs, voice rough with desire. “Spread out for me, taking my fingers so well. You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to be filled.”
I nod, beyond speech now. The fullness, the stretch, the constant stimulation of that spot inside me—it’s overwhelming in the best possible way.
When Slade suddenly withdraws his fingers, I whimper at the loss, feeling empty and desperate.
“Patience,” he says, reaching for a condom. He tears the packet open with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length. Then more lube, coating himself generously.
He positions himself between my legs, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. “Last chance to back out.”
“Don’t you dare stop now.” I lift my hips in invitation.
A smile flickers across his face—predatory, satisfied. “As you wish.”
He pushes forward, the pressure more intense than his fingers. I gasp, hands clutching at the sheets as the head of his cock breaches me.
“Breathe,” Slade reminds me, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Relax. Let me in.”
Inch by excruciating inch, he sinks deeper, filling me in a way I never imagined possible.
“That’s it, keep relaxing for me,” Slade murmurs.
I focus on his words rather than the burning stretch as he continues his slow, steady penetration. When he’s fully seated inside me, we both pause, adjusting to the sensation.
“Okay?” he asks, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead betraying the effort it takes to remain still.
“Yes,” I breathe.
He begins to move then, shallow thrusts that deepen as my body accommodates him. Each stroke sends pleasure spiraling through me, especially when he shifts his angle to hit that spot inside me.
“Fuck,” I gasp, back arching. “Right…there.”
“Here?” Slade thrusts against the spot again, harder. “Like this?”
“Yes,” I moan. “Please, Slade.”
“You crave to be fucked, don’t you?” He growls, his pace increasing. “This is what you were begging for when you were flirting with her in front of me.”
He angles my hips upward as he drives into me with new intensity. Each thrust hits that spot inside me, sending electric jolts of pleasure through my entire body.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Wanted you to see. Wanted this.”
“Manipulative little tease,” he says, his voice dropping lower as he leans forward, his words a rough whisper against my ear. “This is for playing games with me earlier. For making me jealous.” He punctuates each word with a sharp thrust.
“If this is punishment, I’ll misbehave every day.”
He chuckles, teeth grazing my earlobe. His hips snap forward with new force, driving deeper, harder. The headboard crashes against the wall with each powerful thrust, and I cry out, unable to contain the sounds he pulls from me.
“Oh god—fuck—” My voice breaks as he pounds into me. The sensation builds higher and higher until I’m trembling beneath him, every nerve ending on fire.
“You like it rough, huh?” Slade’s fingers dig into my hips hard enough to leave marks. “Like feeling me claim you?”
“Yes,” I gasp, meeting him thrust for thrust. “Harder.”
He shifts his weight, changing the angle, and the new position makes me see stars.
“Yes—God—Slade!” Words spill from my lips in broken fragments as he drives into me. My coherence shatters with each thrust, reduced to primal sounds and half-formed pleas. “Please, don’t stop—there—fuck—I can’t—”
My body arches, every muscle taut with approaching release. I’ve never been taken apart like this, never felt so completely owned and desired.
“Mine,” Slade growls.
His pace increases, each thrust targeted. One hand grips my hip, the other wraps around my neglected cock, stroking in time with his movements.
“You can come now,” he says, voice rough with exertion. “Come for me, Owen. Show me how good I make you feel.”
The permission, combined with the dual stimulation, pushes me over the edge.
My orgasm crashes through me with an intensity I’ve never experienced before.
Wave after wave of pleasure, starting deep inside where he fills me and radiating outward to every extremity.
I cry out, back arching off the bed, vision going white at the edges as I spill over his hand and onto my stomach.
“That’s it,” Slade growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic. “So fucking perfect. So tight around me.”
He follows me moments later, his cock pulsing inside me as he comes with a deep groan. His hand grips my hip hard enough to bruise, his expression transformed by pleasure into something vulnerable.
For several heartbeats, we remain frozen, connected in the most intimate way possible. Then Slade carefully withdraws. He ties off the condom, disposing of it in the bedside trash, then collapses beside me on the bed.
We lie there, breathing hard, neither of us speaking. My body feels different, pleasantly sore and satiated. Slade’s arm drapes across my chest, pulling me closer until my head rests on his shoulder.
“You okay?” he asks, the dominance in his voice replaced by genuine concern.
“Better than okay,” I assure him, surprised at how natural it is to be cradled against him like this. “That was…incredible.”
He hums in agreement, fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. “You’re incredible,” he corrects.
The compliment warms me from the inside out. I turn my face into his chest, breathing in his scent—clean sweat and subtle cologne.
“I wasn’t expecting any of this,” I admit. “Not you. Not…what I apparently like.”
“Life’s full of surprises.”
“This is a pretty big one.”
“Mmm,” he agrees. “But a good one, I think.”
I give him a smile—the most sincere smile I’d had in weeks—and murmur, “Not just a good one.”
Slade’s hand cups my face, thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “This isn’t a one-time thing. You understand that, right? What we just did—what you gave me—I’m not letting that go.”
The possessiveness in his tone should scare me. Instead, it sends heat pooling low in my belly again.
“I don’t want you to,” I admit.
His smile is soft but certain, filled with promise. “Good boy.”