Page 45 of Their Ruthless Sadist

When my lips were wrapped around the thick crest of Zeke’s cock, he released my head and leaned back against the wall.

“Now suck me.”

Hesitantly, I reached up to grip him with my hand. I half expected him to order me not to touch him, but he didn’t.

He growled low, an aggressive, albeit sexy sound that made my cock jerk and twitch. Forcing my jaw as wide as it would go, I worked his cock into my mouth, retreating slowly, then pushing forward again. His cock was velvet over steel, every vein and ridge slick beneath my tongue.

Zeke didn’t move, but I could feel his eyes on me.

I briefly wondered if he ever lost control. Doubtful. Not based on the way he remained still as I worked him with my tongue and lips. I couldn’t take all of him, but he didn’t seem to want that, so I didn’t gag myself. I lost myself in the smoothness of his flesh against my tongue, the way his cock flexed in my hand as I stroked in tandem with the bobbing of my head.

Seconds turned to minutes, but Zeke didn’t move. He seemed content to enjoy my mouth on him, but not once did I get the impression he was going to come. My jaw started to ache, but I embraced the pain, letting it fuel my desire to please this man in any way that I could. Giving back to him what he’d given me earlier tonight.

Time continued to crawl by as I sucked and licked, stroked and squeezed Zeke’s enormous dick. I’d somehow gotten lost in the rhythmic movement, so when Zeke’s hand curled around my head, it startled me.

“Wrap your lips around me and suck,” he ordered. “Close your mouth.”

I did, and Zeke took over, holding my head as he forced his cock in deep.

“Relax your throat.”

It was relaxed, but I couldn’t tell him that.

“Take more of me, pretty boy.” His tone was firm, lacking any emotion—aside from that patronizing superiority when he said pretty boy—whatsoever. “All the way in your throat.”

Yeah. I wasn’t sure that was even possible, but I couldn’t argue with him filling my airway, the head of his dick brushing my tonsils. Every movement was controlled. Every thrust of his hips. Every pull of my head. He was using me. I was merely an orifice for his pleasure.

I fucking loved every second of it.

He became rougher as the minutes ticked by, but still controlled. He knew what he wanted, and he was bound to take it from me. I was more than willing, eager. I wanted him to come down my throat, to taste him.

His cock pulsed a few times, and I sensed he was close, but there was no sound coming from him. No grunts, no groans of pleasure. He used me roughly, fucking my mouth in earnest now, driving deep into my throat. I would gag and he would retreat but only slightly before pushing in deep again. My lips were burning from being stretched thin, but I had no way of asking him to stop.

“I’m gonna come,” he warned. “And you’re gonna drink it all down.”

I moaned softly, encouraging him.

The force intensified, and then he jerked my head all the way forward, my nose brushing his pubic hair, his cock brutalizing my throat. It was only when I thought I would pass out that I felt him shudder, his dick pulsing as hot cum splashed into my mouth. His cock head filled my throat, and he groaned long and low.

He retreated shortly thereafter, releasing my head and staring down at me. My eyes watered from having my airway blocked.

“Now what do you say, fuck toy?”

I locked my gaze with his as I swallowed, my throat raw from his abuse. “Thank you, Zeke.”

The approval I saw in his black eyes was all I needed. And I got the feeling it was all I would get.

CHAPTER 11

Saturday, October 13

Zeke

I woke on Saturday morning feeling as though I’d slept in a strange place. I figured it had to do with the fact there were people in my house. I was used to solitude. Just me and Tank. My subconscious seemed to know that the cowboy and the pretty boy were there, although I couldn’t see them.

Having observed them at dinner, I opted out of having them sleep in the cage beneath my bed. I could tell they were exhausted, likely more so from their trip than the scene at the club. I wasn’t one to be gentle on my toys, but I figured a full night’s sleep would be good for them. It would prepare them for what I had in store.

The sound of metal clinking on metal mixed with the deep baritone of male voices rang up the stairs. Since I’d given the cowboy instructions to cook breakfast, I could only assume he was extremely obedient. I figured Tank was down there keeping him company because he was no longer sprawled out along the foot of the bed.