“Keep going, pretty boy. Pretend I’m your boyfriend. Talk the way you would talk to him when he’s fucking you.”
“Oh, God, Brax,” he growled. “It feels so fucking good.”
Those words drew a long, desperate groan from the cowboy.
I smacked his ass hard. “Fuck me,” I demanded. “Make me come in your ass.”
Leaning into the sofa cushion, I watched the cowboy as I allowed the pleasure to build inside me. The pretty boy did all the work. His finesse disappeared as he fought to get us both to the breaking point.
“Talk to him,” I insisted.
“Fuck, Brax. It feels so good. I can’t get enough. I need more …” He moaned long and low. “Brax. Baby. Fuck. I … need you to make me come. I need…”
The chime sounded and this time the cowboy growled when he fisted himself.
“Harder, Brax,” the pretty boy urged. “Harder, baby. I need you to come inside me. Fill my ass, Brax.”
The cowboy’s triumphant shout signaled his release and it was enough to send me cascading over the edge. I gripped the pretty boy’s hips, jerking him down on me as I slammed upward until he was screaming his boyfriend’s name over and over again. I came hard and fast, my orgasm nearly leveling me.
When I was spent, I wrapped my arm around the pretty boy and jerked him back against me, his back to my chest. I reached for his cock, jerking roughly until he was moaning.
I nipped his ear with my teeth. “Come for me, pretty boy. Right fucking now.”
The pretty boy growled as his cock jerked in my hand, cum splashing onto his chest as he heaved in deep, labored breaths. When he stopped spurting, I dropped my hand and held him there.
As I fought to catch my breath, I looked over at the cowboy wondering if he was ready to bolt. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’d thought he would succeed, but I never meant for that to happen.
After all, when it came to punishment, my Sadistic side had no bounds.
*
Case
(The pretty boy)
AFTER EXCUSING MYSELF AND HEADING to the main-floor bathroom to clean up, I returned to find Brax still sitting on the couch. He looked completely wrung out, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, his head back on the cushion. The blindfold and gag had been removed, and Zeke was working the vampire glove off his hand.
I knew what was coming next. Brax had failed to do as he was instructed, which meant he would spend the next two days crawling around like a dog. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Humiliation to a degree was erotic, but there was a limit, I knew. This would push Brax’s boundaries and the only thing I could do was sit back and watch it happen because the man I loved had asked for this.
Not that Brax could’ve possibly known the extent of Zeke’s Sadistic desires. If he had, perhaps we would be on our way to the apartment while I did my best to prep myself for the inevitable panic attack that would follow.
I had been sincere when I made the offer to Brax. I’d been willing to suffer so we could figure this thing out. No matter what I told myself, I was getting in deeper where Zeke was concerned. I wanted more from him. Hell, I wanted everything. During those moments when he fucked me, I could imagine spending the rest of my life with Brax and Zeke, having everything I’d ever wanted and all I’d ever needed. It was a selfish train of thought, no doubt. I wasn’t sure I deserved both. That didn’t mean I didn’t want it.
Once Zeke removed the spreader bar from Brax’s ankles, he motioned toward the stairs.
“Pretty boy, take him upstairs and shower with him. Remove the massager and get him cleaned up.” Zeke’s attention remained on Brax. “This is the last shower you’ll get until Monday morning. Your punishment starts when you’re finished.”
“Yes, Zeke,” Brax whispered, his eyes hooded.
He had to be exhausted after that. Hell, I was just from watching him.
When Brax stood, Zeke did, too. They were still facing each other when Zeke gripped Brax’s cheeks and forced him to meet his gaze.
“Remember, cowboy. You asked for this. You wanted my punishment. Should you change your mind before Monday morning, you and the pretty boy can leave. You can go back to your sweet little life where the big, mean Sadist doesn’t exist. Understand?”
“Yes, Zeke,” Brax whispered, his eyes wide, his cheeks flushed.
“Take him,” Zeke ordered. “Get him washed up and then the two of you can meet me in the basement.”
I agreed, then took Brax’s hand and led him up the stairs and into Zeke’s massive bathroom. I turned on the water while Brax used the restroom. When he returned, he looked a little better. More in control but still beaten down.
