Chapter Five
CHAPTER FIVE
DALTON
He was present, but calling Ivey conscious would have been pushing it. I could tell it took all his power to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head and I didn’t know if he was aware of it or not, but he’d started to come as soon as I slipped my dick into him. His ass was a tight and unforgiving glove around my shaft, and as I worked at getting almost nine inches of silicone into his throat, he only gripped me tighter.
“Three more inches, Ivey,” I coaxed, covering his throat so I could feel the thick intrusion slide deeper beneath my fingers. “You can do three more, can’t you? Three more inches for me?”
He lost the battle on keeping his eyes open, another dribble of cum leaking out of his cock and into the mess on his stomach. I gave his throat a break and switched to his ass, fucking him with hard but slow thrusts meant to push his throat up to meet the remaining length of the dildo.
Everything about him was doing it for me. The heat of him, the look of him, the smell of him. He was disheveled and desperate, so dirty I didn’t think I’d ever be able to scrub him clean again. But what could be more perfect than that?
What could be more perfect than him?
“Swallow around it. Let me get the whole thing in you and then I can give us both what we want,” I whispered, easing my hips to focus once again on his mouth. I wanted to come and I wanted him to finish coming, but I wanted both of those things to happen with a set of wet, silicone balls nestled against his chin.
I folded myself over him again, licking up spit and tears on my way to his mouth. I kissed him with the cock between us, swirling my tongue around the shaft and his lips, feeding another inch in until he choked again and convulsed.
“Come on, Ivey.”
His lashes fluttered in recognition and he actually fucking swallowed, the muscles of his throat sucking the rest of the toy down in the very back of his throat—probably deeper. He made a violent noise, and I clamped my hand down over the base of the balls to keep it locked in place while I finished us both off.
It didn’t take long, Ivey’s submission and obedience was an aphrodisiac. It was always hard to hold off when it came to him because every primal urge inside of me wanted to rut him into the ground and then cover him with cum. It was work, sometimes, to get our clothes off and get my cock inside of him. But coming inside of him, whether his mouth or his ass, was one of the greatest pleasures of my life, so I endured.
“Milk it,” I demanded through gritted teeth.
He choked again, back bowing off the bed with so much force I thought the chains would snap and the rope would unwind, but he had his fingers so tight around the clips his knuckles were white as the sheets.
I came deeper in him than I ever had before, my cock thicker and longer and reaching all new parts of him with every spurt of my release. With the dildo in his mouth, Ivey wailed—he fucking wailed—and I pulled all twelve inches free in one go. I tossed the toy over my shoulder, crashed out mouths together as he struggled for breath, and made an unforgiving fist around his already spent cock.
“Dalton,” he cried out my name, a whimper, a plea, the syllables rough and unfamiliar after all the use I’d just given his throat.
I swallowed my name down with his tears and his spit, and his recognition that his orgasm wasn’t going to be anywhere near the avalanche he’d initially feared.
“God,” I groaned. “Look at you.”
I pulled out and crawled up the bed, digging my knees into his biceps and leveraging myself up so I could feed my cock into his mouth. I sank down, pushing my whole length into his throat, and beneath me Ivey convulsed and seized, gasping and constricting around my shaft.
I finger-combed his hair back from his face, whispering promises and praises to him until the last tremors of my release had washed over us both, then I climbed off the bed and searched out the champagne bottle from the table.
“My husband,” I whispered again, because I was so often awestruck that I’d managed to make this man mine.
He whimpered, eyes closed and jaw slack.
Climbing back between his legs, I made quick work of the foil, then dragged the cork through the mess between his crack. Lube and cum and sweat, and I tested the broad cork against his well-fucked asshole, knowing he’d let me put the whole thing inside of him if I wanted. He moved against the bottle, trying to spread his legs wider, which only made my cock twitch.
“ My husband,” he croaked back.
I notched my thumb under the rim of the cork, angling it toward the ceiling and away from my second favorite part of Ivey’s body.
“Your husband,” I agreed.
“My Sir.”
The cork popped up with the force of a rocket, a geyser of bubbles spurting up and out of the bottle before raining down over Ivey’s cock, balls, and hole. I dove back between his legs, bottle still in hand, using my tongue to lap up the sweet prosecco and my own salty cum. Ivey fought more when I sealed my lips around his asshole than he did when I’d shoved a footling dildo into his throat, and that only made me want to eat his ass longer.
I licked and sucked at his hole until he learned to speak again, then I rocked back on my heels and poured a generous swallow of champagne into my mouth. I gestured toward him with the bottle and he nodded, drunk on the high of his own submission. I crawled up the length of his body and dribbled some of the champagne out of my mouth. It splattered against his lips and he opened for me, closing his eyes with a moan and letting me feed him our celebratory champagne drop by drop.
When he’d managed to catch most of my offering in his mouth, I set the bottle on the nightstand and notched myself comfortably between his thighs. I kissed his chin, the corner of his mouth, his closed eyelids.
“You’re the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me,” I told him honestly, finally letting my lips land against his.
“Undo my hands so I can hold you,” he begged, fighting against his restraints.
“No,” I said simply. Kissing him again. “I’m nowhere near finished with you yet.”
I took another drink of champagne to steady myself, gave Ivey one from the bottle, then sank back down between his legs and took his soft and sticky cock into my mouth. He groaned, wrestling against his bindings, but I took him down to the root and suckled on him until he was hard again against the roof of my mouth. I sucked my way up his shaft, slow and wet, until the tip of him popped past my lips with an indecent wet sound that echoed off the walls.
“You know you came already,” I told him, cradling his hot and heavy balls in my palm. “It leaked out of you while you stretched your throat around that cock for me. I wish you could have seen it.”
Ivey whimpered, a pathetic kind of protest that only turned me on more.
“I’ll make sure you don’t miss this one,” I promised, taking him into my mouth again and swirling my tongue around the underside of his already sensitive crown.
“Dalton!” he yelled my name, bucked, thrashed, and I pinned him to the bed by his waist, taking him deeper into my mouth. “Sir! Oh. Oh. ”
I grunted, dragging my teeth up the underside of his shaft as I let him slide out of my mouth again. Not enough to hurt, just enough to snap him back to the present.
“God, just look at you.”
“I feel like I’m going to die.”
“I’d never allow it,” I promised, giving a quick tug to the chain spread between Ivey’s nipple clamps. He sucked in a stuttering breath and bucked off the bed again.
I was a man of my word and I wanted to make sure that Ivey remembered the next orgasm, but maybe not the third one. The thing with my husband was that his desperate little moans and cries only drove me to come up with more fucked-up things to do to him so he would make more of the sounds. The two of us were locked in a cycle I never wanted out of, and it was with that journey in mind that I took the lube back into my hand and slicked my fingers.
The first two went in easily. He was still stretched and soft from when we’d fucked, and my cum leaked out of his ass and down the backs of his thighs. When I teased the tip of a third finger against his rim, Ivey sank into the bed like the bones and muscle had somehow been zapped out of his body and all that was left of him was skin and cum.
“Are you with me?” I asked, getting that third finger into him alongside the first two. His muscles were tight, constricting around me like he wanted to cut me off at the knuckle.
He hummed, and I slowly fucked three fingers in and out of him. Slow and steady until his knees fell wide and his thighs began to shake. Then I squirted more lube down his crack and started trying to get the fourth one in. He managed half a protest, fingers still magically curled around the clips on his cuffs.
“Relax, Ivey,” I coaxed, pressing at him with my pinky. “You have your mouth back. You can safeword that way. Let go off the clips. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”
He obeyed instinctively, fingers splaying wide and wrists going limp in the safety of their leather restraints. My pinky finger fought its way into him, and I worked at his hole slowly, twisting my slick hand, but pulling back before even coming close to trying to get the thickest part of my hand into him.
“Twelve inches down your throat and a fist up your ass,” I murmured, tucking my thumb and making sure he was slippery enough that a change of sheets would be necessary once I was through with him. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
Ivey was more than halfway back to subspace. I could tell by the rumbling moans that vibrated out of his throat and the soft gaze his eyes fought to maintain. Weak and trembling against the sheets, Ivey was perfection. I gave another pull on the nipple clamps, and his eyes shot open as he gasped for air.
“Don’t leave me yet,” I whispered. “I want you to feel it.”
His cock was hard again, jerking like it would somehow find the strength to get longer and harder before he came. His stomach was a sweaty and sticky mess, but I couldn’t look away from his face as I started to seriously test the resistance of his body.
“Bear down, Ivey.” I rubbed the back of his thigh with my free hand, still gently twisting and pressing my fist against his hole. I was so fucking close to getting my whole hand inside of him. He just needed to relax a little more and give me one more breath.
“Hurts.”
“Mmmn,” I agreed. “Let me in, then. Stop fighting.”
The command was the right one, apparently. His body tensed before going even more slack than before, and his hole stretched around my knuckles, sucking my hand into his body before sealing around my wrist. He cried out, an actual gasping sob, and I fell forward over the top of him, in awe of the way our bodies were now joined.