Chapter Thirteen #3
“Let’s get a better angle,” I murmur.
Reaching down, I grab the backs of his thighs.
I haul his lower half up off my lap, dragging his body backward.
He yelps, scrambling his hands on the rug to keep his balance as I lift him higher.
I pull his legs up, tugging the panties down off one leg, and hook his knees over my shoulders, pinning him there.
His face is still shoved into the rug, but his lower half is splayed wide open, suspended in the air. The position forces his ass up, presenting his plugged hole in front of my mouth. The scent of him fills my nose—a sharp hit of arousal.
“Ryker, please,” he pants, his voice muffled by the floor. His cock is trapped between our bodies, grinding against my stomach every time he takes a breath. “Take it out. I’m going crazy.”
I lean in, letting my breath ghost over his exposed hole. The tiny hairs on his thighs stand on end.
“You’re not going to cum until I give you permission,” I tell him in a gravelly purr. “Don’t spill a single drop until I say so. Understand?”
He shudders, his thighs trembling where they rest against my neck. “Yes. Yes, Ryker, I won’t. Just please…”
“Good boy.” I wrap my hand around the base of the plug, gripping the slick silicone.
Jax whimpers into the rug, bracing himself, his knuckles turning white where he grips the fibers.
I give the toy a slow twist to break the seal.
The suction holds for a second before giving way with a soft squelching sound.
I pull it free, tossing the silicone onto the glass coffee table with a wet thud.
My cum comes spilling out of him, a warm, viscous mess sliding down his pale skin and dripping toward his groin.
He looks so ruined and used, a perfect little toy broken open for me to play with.
I wipe a smear of lube and cum off his cheek with my thumb, smirking at the sight.
His hole is swollen and pink, puckered tight but still gaping just a fraction from being stretched out all day at work.
I drop my head, hooking my thumbs into the firm meat of his ass, and pull his cheeks wide apart.
I press my mouth flush against his bare skin.
Jax gasps loudly. He bucks his hips instinctively, but I hold him pinned over my shoulders, trapping his legs so he can only squirm.
I drag my tongue in a broad, wet stripe up the center of his crack, lapping up the mess pouring out of him.
He tastes salty and musky, mixed with the slick sweetness of the lube.
I lap at him again, slurping the cum off his skin, cleaning him up just to get him messy all over again.
“Ryker, fuck,” he pants, his voice muffled by the carpet. His thighs tremble against my neck, the muscles jumping erratically as I swirl my tongue over his sensitive rim.
I don’t answer him. I push my tongue inside his hole, burying it as deep as I can reach.
He lets out a high-pitched whine, hips stuttering forward as I start to tongue-fuck him relentlessly, pushing in and dragging out, licking every inch of his stretched ring.
The wet, sloppy sounds fill the quiet room.
The taste of my own seed coating my tongue only turns me on more.
I suck at his puckered flesh, pulling the sensitive skin between my lips and biting down gently, feeling him twitch with every drag of my teeth.
He thrashes, trying to pull away from the overwhelming sensation, but I keep him locked in place. My free hand drops to his groin. I cup his balls, rolling them firmly in my palm. He whimpers again, desperate and needy sounding.
I slide my fingers up, stroking the underside of his stiff cock. He’s so close to the edge he’s almost vibrating against my stomach, his cock jerking every time I touch him.
I blow a breath over his ass, watching the goosebumps erupt all over his thighs.
“I can’t,” he begs, his voice cracking. “Please, it feels too good. Please let me come.”
“I said hold it.” I squeeze his balls hard enough to make him yelp, then dive back in.
I eat him out furiously, lapping at the slick, swollen ring of muscle, slurping the last remnants of my cum from inside him.
My tongue mimics the thrust of a cock, plunging deep and swirling around, coaxing every ounce of pleasure out of his nervous system.
His resistance is crumbling. He’s fighting it, his whole body drawn tight as a bowstring, but the stimulation is tearing his control apart.
He kicks his legs, feet scrambling in the air, his thighs shaking violently against my shoulders.
The frantic movements just grind his cock harder against my stomach.
Every time his hips twitch, I drag my knuckles along the underside of his shaft, punishing him for slipping up while at the same time driving him closer to the brink.
“Please,” he cries out, turning his head so I can see his flushed face. “Ryker, please, I need it. Let me cum.”
He squirms, letting out a choked sob. I pull my mouth back just a fraction, watching him writhe.
He’s a mess, panting, begging, stripped of every inhibition he used to carry around.
I slide my hand up the length of his cock, finding the weeping head.
I press my thumb flat over the slit, smearing the slick fluid across his skin.
I rub my thumb hard over the sensitive tip, and the last thread of his control snaps.
Jax screams, his back arching, his spine bows, and he shatters.
He spurts violently, cum shooting over his stomach to splash across the leather couch.
I keep rubbing his cock, stroking the underside, milking every drop out of him while he shudders and cries out.
Cum coats my pants, soaking into the fabric, pooling on the expensive upholstery beneath him.
He just keeps going, sobbing through his climax, his body jerking in my arms until he’s wrung out.
Jax starts to shake almost immediately. It starts in his shoulders and travels all the way down his spine. He knows what he just did. He disobeyed a direct order.
I pull back, swiping my tongue over my bottom lip to catch a lingering drop of his taste.
He twists his neck, looking over his shoulder at me.
His hazel eyes are wide and glassy, filled with guilt and fear.
It’s a gorgeous look on him. My mouth curls into a sharp, gleeful grin.
I’m fucking thrilled he couldn’t hold it, giving me the perfect excuse to tear into him.
“Bad little slut,” I purr, letting my voice drop low and dangerous. “Didn’t I tell you not to come without permission?”
“I’m sorry,” he gasps out, his voice cracking, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Ryker, I swear I tried, I couldn’t stop it.”
“Save the excuses. You disobeyed.” I grab him by the waist, untangling his legs from around my neck.
I lower his hips back down, dropping his lower half across my thighs so he’s sprawled face-down over my lap again.
He whimpers, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow as his chest heaves against the rug.
I lean over him, dragging both my hands over the smooth curve of his ass and squeeze his cheeks, digging my fingertips into the pliable meat, making him squirm.
“I’m going to have to teach you better self-control, Jaxon,” I tell him, keeping my tone deadly calm. “We can’t have you blowing your load the second things feel good. What good is a toy that breaks too fast?”
I reach down and grab the bunch of black lace tangled around his knees.
I drag the panties up his calves, over his thighs, and snap the waistband back onto his hips.
The delicate floral pattern settles into place, the thin string disappearing into his crack while the edges frame his bare ass.
The black fabric makes his pale skin look that much softer, a perfect canvas waiting to be marked up.
I adjust the straps, pulling them higher on his hips to expose more of his cheeks.
I lift my hand high and bring it down hard.
The smack rings out sharply. Jax cries out and his body jerks across my lap. A bright pink handprint blooms on his left cheek, sitting pretty just above the lace edging.
“Count them,” I order, bringing my hand down on his other cheek.
“Two,” he chokes out, kicking his feet against the floor.
I alternate cheeks, settling into a steady, punishing pace.
My palm connects with a wet, sharp crack every time, painting his skin a deeper shade of pink.
He writhes and arches his back, tossing his head side to side on the rug, but I keep my forearm pressed against his lower back to hold him down.
He takes the hits like a champ, calling out the numbers through breathless sobs.
“Five,” he gasps. “Six. Ah, fuck, Ryker, please.”
“Keep counting,” I growl, landing another stinging slap.
His skin is hot under my hand, flushed and sensitive. I watch the color spread, a beautiful angry pink coloring the swell of his ass. But there’s something else happening, something that makes a dark, greedy thrill curl low in my stomach. The incredible little degenerate is getting hard again.
I can feel it. Through the fabric of my pants, his cock is stirring, stiffening up and pressing a hot, rigid line against my thigh.
I just wrung him dry two minutes ago and he’s already pitched a tent just from getting his ass beat.
My own cock throbs in response, aching against my zipper, desperate to get in on the action.
He’s so wonderfully fucked up in the head now.
He’s soaking up the pain and turning it into lust.
I pause for a fraction of a second, my eyes dropping to the center of his ass. The thong string parts his cheeks just enough to give me a clear view. I bring my hand down again, harder this time.
“Twelve,” he whines, his hips bucking upward.