The Full-time assistant. MM - CMNM

[laptoper]

Excellent!

 

[Jake1973]

Yeah I love going through these mental gyrations with Connor. This is the stuff I used to try to write.

 

[rigus]

Yeah I love going through these mental gyrations with Connor. This is the stuff I used to try to write.

And I loved it! If I'm writing about this now, it's because I once read your stories. I still think about Billy sometimes. thanks!

 

[Onecrotchman]

We need an update!!

 

[Tphilatl]

Looking forward to the next chapter. Great story.

 

[Infamous Hacker]

Yes! So fucking hot! Love this story!

 

[0jb0]

Wonder if Dom will show his guy out in public again

 

[ArtsyMediterranean]

Excited to keep on reading

 

[Tphilatl]

Excited to keep on reading

Agreed. Anxious to read the next chapter. This is my favorite story on this site.

 

[Tphilatl]

Hey buddy. Hope there is a new chapter posting soon. Can’t wait to see where this one leads.

 

[0jb0]

Whens the next ch out mr?

 

[rigus]

Whens the next ch out mr?

I'll start writing again on monday.

 

[rigus]

CHAPTER 16

I woke up startled, not like after a nightmare, but more like the jolt you get when you suddenly remember you might’ve left the stove on. Something felt off. The room was dark, the only light coming from a faint glow through the window.

I must’ve slept for hours. With my ankle useless, there wasn’t much else I could do… besides, well, jerking off into my boss’s mouth and letting him swallow my load.

Oh, fuck. What the hell had I done?

I leaned on my elbow, reaching toward the other side of the bed. My hand brushed over cool, empty sheets. Alone. I frowned, wondering how long I’d been out, and why Dominic hadn’t stayed beside me.

I turned to the other side and fumbled for the lamp on the nightstand. The soft glow filled the room, and I noticed something else, I could move my injured arm. It still ached, but the stiffness was gone enough that I could stretch it without much trouble.

Carefully, I swung myself to the edge of the bed, lowering my leg until my bad foot brushed the floor. That’s when I spotted it. Sitting by the wall, where I was sure nothing had been before, was a walker. The kind old people use to shuffle around.

I reached for it, gripping the handles with both hands. Using my arms as levers, I pushed myself upright. A grunt slipped out of me as a sharp pain shot through my ankle, but I managed to shift my weight, leaning heavily on the frame as I shuffled forward.

First stop was the bathroom to finally relieve my bladder. After that, the next problem hit me: clothes. I was still completely naked, and while I could’ve stayed that way if I’d just stayed in the bedroom, my stomach was rumbling. Nobody had brought me dinner, or maybe they had, and I’d slept right through it.

I remembered Dominic mentioning sweaters in the closet. Moving slowly, I opened the door and sorted through the neat row of options. Most looked too fitted, so I went for the biggest one I could find. It wasn’t the softest, but it hung low enough to cover my dick and balls. Good enough.

A few minutes later, I was inching down the hallway with the walker squeaking softly under my weight. The place felt deserted. Too quiet. I even wondered if they’d all left the house, maybe for some emergency. The thought crossed my mind, what if something had happened to Mr. Bennett Sr. during one of those heated arguments?

About twenty minutes later - the time it took me to shuffle down the stairs - I finally reached the living room. Spacious and elegant, it looked like something straight out of a movie, the kind of place where big families pose for a christmas photo.

At the far end, a set of wide double doors stood slightly ajar. I caught the sound of muffled voices seeping through. Not quite shouting, but sharp enough to be an argument. Strangely, I felt relieved just to hear people. I edged closer, quiet as I could, straining to catch the words.

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” I yelped, clutching the walker. My head whipped around to find Nathaniel standing at the entrance.

“I… I wasn’t…” The excuse tangled in my throat. “I was just… looking for the kitchen.”

Nathaniel’s brows lifted, then a small smile curved his lips. He tilted his head toward the opposite hallway. “It’s right this way. I’m actually heading there myself for a snack”

By the time I hobbled into the kitchen, Nathaniel already had the fridge door swung wide, several containers spread out on the massive island counter.

“Take a seat. I’ll heat something in the microwave,” he said kindly.

I lowered myself onto one of the stools, leaning against the counter for support. He barely looked at me, too focused on rummaging through the fridge. The silence pressed in until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“I… I wasn’t eavesdropping,” I blurted, my voice tighter than I meant. “I just didn’t know where everyone was.”

“Everyone?” he echoed without turning, his tone neutral but pointed. “Or just my brother?”

Before I could answer, he made a small sound of triumph. “There they are!” He pulled out a container from the very back of the fridge and set it on the island.

Nathaniel tore open the container and slid a few long sausages onto a plate. “Bratwurst,” he said, almost proudly. “Imported from Munich.”

He popped them in the microwave, and soon the kitchen filled with a rich, savory smell. My stomach growled. He set the plate on the kitchen island right in front of me. The sausages were thick, slick with steam, and when Nathaniel stuck a fork into one and lifted it for a huge bite, the juices spilled out in a way that made my throat tighten. Dominic’s voice echoed in my head: Next time, it’s my turn.

“God, these are perfect. Try one,” Nathaniel said, spearing another sausage and holding it out to me. “Juicy, tender, just the right size.” He popped his into his mouth with an appreciative hum.

I shifted on the stool, holding the fork with the thick, glistening sausage at eye level. I swallowed hard. It wasn’t the first time I’d had such a girthy piece of meat hovering so close to my mouth. Images of Dominic sucking my cock came rushing back, the heat, the pull, the bliss of release savored like the juice spilling from the sausage.

I tugged the hem of the sweater between my legs, trapping my betraying erection beneath the fabric.

“What is it?” Nathaniel asked. “Just give it a try. If you don’t like it, I can heat something else. There’s plenty of leftovers.”

If only it were that simple.

I raised the sausage to my mouth, and I couldn’t stop imagining it as Dominic’s cock. The savory scent filled my nose, saliva flooded my mouth. I opened wide and let it linger far too long before biting down. The juices spread across my tongue, and a moan slipped out before I could stop it. My face burned. God, what if I make the same sound when it’s Dominic’s cock in my mouth?

I lowered the sausage back to the plate and chewed slowly, carefully.

“What do you think?” Nathaniel asked.

I only nodded.

“Go ahead,” he said with a grin. “Swallow.”

The word caught me off guard. I choked, sputtering as I tried to swallow too quickly.

“Oh my god! Connor!” Nathaniel exclaimed. He rushed around the counter and grabbed me by the waist, hauling me off the stool. His hands slid under the sweater as he pulled me tight against him, trying to position me for the Heimlich.

I managed to spit the bite into my palm, but he didn’t stop, he kept pulling me flush against him, my bare ass grinding against his midsection.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” I gasped, pleading for him to let me go.

I stood leaning on the kitchen island when Nathaniel finally stepped back. “I thought you were choking,” he said. “You bit off a mouthful.”

“Yeah… uhm… thanks,” I muttered, trying to breathe and clear my throat. “It was good, though, the sausage”

“Yes, it…” Nathaniel cut himself off mid-sentence.

I turned to look at him. Oh man. Not again… With a sigh, I glanced down to see my erection straining against the sweater. I tugged at the hem, but it didn’t hide much. At this point, was it even worth saying sorry?

“Hey… uhm… want some help?”

“What?” I asked, caught off guard.

“Sitting down. Putting your ankle to rest.” Nathaniel stepped closer, slid a hand under my arm, and helped me hobble toward the living room. He eased me onto the couch and propped my foot up on a stool. “Is it getting better?” he asked.

I shrugged, more concerned about concealing my erection than the state of my ankle.

“Want some ice?”

“It’s fine. Thanks.” I glanced at him. His face was calm, genuinely concerned with making me comfortable. “I just need some rest.”

“Hey, you know what’s great for relaxing? Warm water. Want to get in the hot tub?”

“Hot tub?”

“Yeah, right here on the deck.” He gestured behind us, toward the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. Then he flicked a switch, and lights spilled across a wooden deck with a large hot tub overlooking the woods. “Come on,” he said. “I could use it too.”

I didn’t argue much, partly because I couldn’t fight him tugging me along. We stepped outside. The night air was sharp and cold against my skin. Nathaniel switched the tub on, and it rumbled to life, bubbling almost immediately. Without hesitation, he started stripping down until he was in just his underwear. He was tall and fit, not as broad or hairy as his brother, but still imposing.

“Come on, let’s get in. it’s freezing out here. Take the sweater off.”

I looked down at the only thing shielding me from complete nakedness, tugging at the hem to cover myself. What unsettled me most was how unfazed he seemed. Maybe this kind of thing was normal in their family. God, I hoped not.

Still, I peeled off the sweater and slipped into the hot tub. The water enveloped me instantly, heat sinking deep into my muscles. The ache in my ankle eased almost at once. Nathaniel sat across from me, arms stretched along the edge of the tub, his head tilted back, eyes closed, like he belonged there.

I was about to sink into the pleasure of the warm water when Nathaniel said, “So… how’s it been? Working for my brother?”

I tilted my head back up. He was still lounging with his head tilted, eyes half-closed, as if the question was casual. I looked at him without answering right away. “Good,” I finally said.

Immediately, he grinned and cracked an eye open. “Just good?” He raised an eyebrow. “Come on, I know him. Don’t be shy.”

For the first time, I felt a flicker of shame. My eyes dropped, avoiding his. It was like I’d been caught doing something indecent.

 

[rigus]

“So… everyone knows?” I asked quietly, embarrassed.

“Don’t feel bad.” His tone softened, almost conspiratorial. “I’m not judging you. I’m just curious.”

Curious? Curious about what? About the humiliations his brother put me through for fun? For a second I thought Nathaniel might be different, but maybe this whole family was in on it. Maybe the whole thing was sicker than I wanted to admit.

“I don’t want details,” he clarified quickly. “I just mean… he’s a lot to handle. And you’re not the first one.”

“I know,” I cut him off. Strangely, my gut twisted at the idea of “others.” I didn’t want to picture it. He caught that and smirked.

“You’re different. I can tell.”

I looked back at him, intrigued despite myself.

“Who knows…” he went on, his lips curling, “maybe you’ll be the first one to turn the tables on him.”

Before I could react, he glanced past me through the glass wall. His expression shifted. “Oh man.”

I followed his gaze. Gregory was standing inside the living room, waving him over.

“Duty calls,” Nathaniel sighed, hauling himself out of the water. He grabbed his clothes in a rush. “Keep relaxing. I’ll be right back to help you get out.”

And just like that, I was left alone, surrounded by bubbling heat.

The warmth of the water wrapped around me like a heavy, soothing blanket. My ankle ached less, my muscles loosened. I sank deeper, letting the jets massage my legs and back, my head tilting back as my eyes fluttered closed.

Minutes passed, and my body, so relaxed, started to feel numb in all the right places. The ache in my ankle softened, but my limbs grew heavy, my mind drifting somewhere between waking and sleeping. I closed my eyes for what I thought was a second, only to be roused by the sound of the sliding door.

I turned, expecting Nathaniel, then whoever it was, turned the light off. I frowned. "Who’s there?" I asked.

"It’s just me," a familiar voice said.

"Oh… you," I murmured.

"You sound disappointed," my boss teased. "Were you expecting someone else? Nathaniel, perhaps?"

I huffed. "Don’t tell me you’re jealous."

"Not at all," he said, and I could hear the sound of his clothes sliding off his body as he approached.

"What are you doing?" I asked, unease creeping in.

"Joining you."

"Uhm… I’m actually about to get out," I started, but as I tried to move, something strange happened. My limbs felt heavy, my joints stiff, my hand slipping off the edge of the hot tub. "What the fuck?"

I heard Dominic chuckle. "Did you know you shouldn’t stay too long in a hot tub? The heat dilates your blood vessels, lowers blood pressure, and relaxes your muscles to the point of weakness."

"I… I didn’t…" I stammered, feeling his presence right behind me. "Help me get out…" I pleaded.

"And where’s the fun in that?" he said, stepping in. He sat close behind me. I tried to grab him to help myself up, but it was useless. Instead, he guided me to sit between his legs. "Let the blood start flowing back into your limbs, then you’ll get out," he said, rubbing my arms. I tilted my head back against his shoulder, his hands massaging my chest as well.

"You’re enjoying this," I said. "It’s sick, you know, making your brother leave me here for you to find me all vulnerable."

He chuckled. "You still think everything is some plan schemed by me? Oh no, Connor. You actually put yourself on a silver platter for me. I didn’t ask Nathaniel to bring you here. I didn’t lure you out of the room naked and into the hot tub. That… was all you."

"I didn’t…" I protested.

"So… if this is all my planning, what’s my next move?" His deep voice pressed right against my ear.

"I… I don’t know."

"Perhaps I can finally get to fuck you, Connor."

"You wouldn’t do that…"

"Why not?"

"We’ve set that straight before. You’re many things… but not a rapist."

"Maybe I’ve grown tired of waiting…"

"You are not…" I said. "That’s what you like, this fucking game of tug-of-war…"

He hummed. The hand that had been rubbing my chest slid down my abs, his fingers grazing the base of my now-deflated cock. "There’s not much to pull on this end," he said, then grabbed my hand and gently twisted it behind me, guiding it to his navel. "But there’s plenty here for you to tug."

I had my hand wrapped around his cock, feeling him swell and harden beneath my touch.

I knew I could push him away, tell him to back off. But somewhere along the way, I’d grown used to giving in to whatever he asked of me. I couldn’t even tell if I wanted this, or if it was just the weight of obligation pressing me forward.

I wrapped my hand around his shaft, squeezing as firmly as my numb fingers allowed. A low moan slipped from him. I began to stroke, the motion similar like I had in Miami, only this time there were no clothes between us, and my grip was full, skin against skin.
Then I stopped, not because I wanted to quit, but because the position was awkward.

“Keep going,” he murmured.

I turned to face him, the dim light from inside casting soft highlights across his features. I resumed, stroking him slowly, gently.

“Oh, Connor…” His moan encouraged me, a sign I was doing well. I leaned forward until my forehead rested against his chest. His hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me there, while his other hand gripped my arm, the bicep taut with each motion of my strokes.

Then Dominic gently pushed me to a stop. I looked up, worried I’d done something wrong. He must have seen it on my face, because he gave a small smile and shook his head. “You are doing great,” he said.

He leaned back against the edge of the tub, then shifted to sit on it, his hard cock balanced in front of my face. I moved closer, resting my cheek against his thigh. My hand found his length again, stroking him with slow, torturous movements. I glanced up, his eyes were locked on me, lips slightly parted, as though he wanted to beg for the promise I’d made. I knew exactly what he wanted, but he wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t order me. The bastard wanted me to take that step myself, the one I dreaded, the one I knew I’d regret… or maybe not.

I kept stroking, inching closer. Closer still, until I could feel the heat of him against my lips, that electric tingle of his presence. My mouth parted almost on its own, and before I could think twice, I let him in.

It wasn’t as awful as I’d feared. The taste wasn’t bad, but the sheer size of him filled my mouth so completely I had to open wide. For a moment neither of us moved. Then, with my hand wrapped firmly around the base, I started to suck. My lips stretched around the thick head, managing only a small part of the shaft, but it was enough to draw low moans and grunts of pleasure from Dominic. I kept going, slowly finding a rhythm. I couldn’t say I enjoyed it, it was strange, unfamiliar, but knowing I was the one making him feel that way made it worth it.

He warned me he was close, but I didn’t let go. I clung to him as if my life depended on it. Then it happened: a hot rush spilled across my tongue, flooding my mouth. Oh, God. I had no words for it. It was overwhelming, unfamiliar… like rich juice bursting from a sausage, coating every taste bud. A flavor I’d never known, shocking yet strangely intoxicating.

And I swallowed. Every drop.

 

[0jb0]

That's a happy Monday! Oh man ... when's the next chapter already...?!

 

[Tphilatl]

“So… everyone knows?” I asked quietly, embarrassed.

“Don’t feel bad.” His tone softened, almost conspiratorial. “I’m not judging you. I’m just curious.”

Curious? Curious about what? About the humiliations his brother put me through for fun? For a second I thought Nathaniel might be different, but maybe this whole family was in on it. Maybe the whole thing was sicker than I wanted to admit.

“I don’t want details,” he clarified quickly. “I just mean… he’s a lot to handle. And you’re not the first one.”

“I know,” I cut him off. Strangely, my gut twisted at the idea of “others.” I didn’t want to picture it. He caught that and smirked.

“You’re different. I can tell.”

I looked back at him, intrigued despite myself.

“Who knows…” he went on, his lips curling, “maybe you’ll be the first one to turn the tables on him.”

Before I could react, he glanced past me through the glass wall. His expression shifted. “Oh man.”

I followed his gaze. Gregory was standing inside the living room, waving him over.

“Duty calls,” Nathaniel sighed, hauling himself out of the water. He grabbed his clothes in a rush. “Keep relaxing. I’ll be right back to help you get out.”

And just like that, I was left alone, surrounded by bubbling heat.

The warmth of the water wrapped around me like a heavy, soothing blanket. My ankle ached less, my muscles loosened. I sank deeper, letting the jets massage my legs and back, my head tilting back as my eyes fluttered closed.

Minutes passed, and my body, so relaxed, started to feel numb in all the right places. The ache in my ankle softened, but my limbs grew heavy, my mind drifting somewhere between waking and sleeping. I closed my eyes for what I thought was a second, only to be roused by the sound of the sliding door.

I turned, expecting Nathaniel, then whoever it was, turned the light off. I frowned. "Who’s there?" I asked.

"It’s just me," a familiar voice said.

"Oh… you," I murmured.

"You sound disappointed," my boss teased. "Were you expecting someone else? Nathaniel, perhaps?"

I huffed. "Don’t tell me you’re jealous."

"Not at all," he said, and I could hear the sound of his clothes sliding off his body as he approached.

"What are you doing?" I asked, unease creeping in.

"Joining you."

"Uhm… I’m actually about to get out," I started, but as I tried to move, something strange happened. My limbs felt heavy, my joints stiff, my hand slipping off the edge of the hot tub. "What the fuck?"

I heard Dominic chuckle. "Did you know you shouldn’t stay too long in a hot tub? The heat dilates your blood vessels, lowers blood pressure, and relaxes your muscles to the point of weakness."

"I… I didn’t…" I stammered, feeling his presence right behind me. "Help me get out…" I pleaded.

"And where’s the fun in that?" he said, stepping in. He sat close behind me. I tried to grab him to help myself up, but it was useless. Instead, he guided me to sit between his legs. "Let the blood start flowing back into your limbs, then you’ll get out," he said, rubbing my arms. I tilted my head back against his shoulder, his hands massaging my chest as well.

"You’re enjoying this," I said. "It’s sick, you know, making your brother leave me here for you to find me all vulnerable."

He chuckled. "You still think everything is some plan schemed by me? Oh no, Connor. You actually put yourself on a silver platter for me. I didn’t ask Nathaniel to bring you here. I didn’t lure you out of the room naked and into the hot tub. That… was all you."

"I didn’t…" I protested.

"So… if this is all my planning, what’s my next move?" His deep voice pressed right against my ear.

"I… I don’t know."

"Perhaps I can finally get to fuck you, Connor."

"You wouldn’t do that…"

"Why not?"

"We’ve set that straight before. You’re many things… but not a rapist."

"Maybe I’ve grown tired of waiting…"

"You are not…" I said. "That’s what you like, this fucking game of tug-of-war…"

He hummed. The hand that had been rubbing my chest slid down my abs, his fingers grazing the base of my now-deflated cock. "There’s not much to pull on this end," he said, then grabbed my hand and gently twisted it behind me, guiding it to his navel. "But there’s plenty here for you to tug."

I had my hand wrapped around his cock, feeling him swell and harden beneath my touch.

I knew I could push him away, tell him to back off. But somewhere along the way, I’d grown used to giving in to whatever he asked of me. I couldn’t even tell if I wanted this, or if it was just the weight of obligation pressing me forward.

I wrapped my hand around his shaft, squeezing as firmly as my numb fingers allowed. A low moan slipped from him. I began to stroke, the motion similar like I had in Miami, only this time there were no clothes between us, and my grip was full, skin against skin.
Then I stopped, not because I wanted to quit, but because the position was awkward.

“Keep going,” he murmured.

I turned to face him, the dim light from inside casting soft highlights across his features. I resumed, stroking him slowly, gently.

“Oh, Connor…” His moan encouraged me, a sign I was doing well. I leaned forward until my forehead rested against his chest. His hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me there, while his other hand gripped my arm, the bicep taut with each motion of my strokes.

Then Dominic gently pushed me to a stop. I looked up, worried I’d done something wrong. He must have seen it on my face, because he gave a small smile and shook his head. “You are doing great,” he said.

He leaned back against the edge of the tub, then shifted to sit on it, his hard cock balanced in front of my face. I moved closer, resting my cheek against his thigh. My hand found his length again, stroking him with slow, torturous movements. I glanced up, his eyes were locked on me, lips slightly parted, as though he wanted to beg for the promise I’d made. I knew exactly what he wanted, but he wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t order me. The bastard wanted me to take that step myself, the one I dreaded, the one I knew I’d regret… or maybe not.

I kept stroking, inching closer. Closer still, until I could feel the heat of him against my lips, that electric tingle of his presence. My mouth parted almost on its own, and before I could think twice, I let him in.

It wasn’t as awful as I’d feared. The taste wasn’t bad, but the sheer size of him filled my mouth so completely I had to open wide. For a moment neither of us moved. Then, with my hand wrapped firmly around the base, I started to suck. My lips stretched around the thick head, managing only a small part of the shaft, but it was enough to draw low moans and grunts of pleasure from Dominic. I kept going, slowly finding a rhythm. I couldn’t say I enjoyed it, it was strange, unfamiliar, but knowing I was the one making him feel that way made it worth it.

He warned me he was close, but I didn’t let go. I clung to him as if my life depended on it. Then it happened: a hot rush spilled across my tongue, flooding my mouth. Oh, God. I had no words for it. It was overwhelming, unfamiliar… like rich juice bursting from a sausage, coating every taste bud. A flavor I’d never known, shocking yet strangely intoxicating.

And I swallowed. Every drop.

Worth the wait. Great chapter leaving me yearning for more.

 

[Infamous Hacker]

Yes! I LOVE where this is going! I can't wait for more. Thank you so much for sharing this with us.

 

[rigus]

CHAPTER 17

I never thought I’d do it. Not in a million years. If someone had asked me a month ago whether I’d ever put another man’s cock in my mouth, I would’ve laughed them off. And yet, I sucked Dominic Bennett’s girthy cock like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Well, not exactly the most natural thing. I struggled with the size, with my inexperience. I felt him flinch a few times, but that wasn’t my problem. If he felt my teeth once in a while, then so be it, it was too damn thick.

And still, it wasn’t as awful as I’d imagined. Weird, yes. Overwhelming, absolutely. But not disgusting. What unsettles me most isn’t the act itself - it’s that I didn’t hate it. I won’t say I enjoyed it, but that’s the crazy part. Why did I want to do it well? And why the hell did I let him finish in my mouth?

“So… did you say yes because you couldn’t run away on that sprained ankle?” Logan asked.

I had to tell him. Keeping things from my best friend made me feel more guilty than relieved. I’ve never been the kind of guy who can handle a double life, sneaking around and pretending I’m someone I’m not. I need reassurance that I’m not screwing my life up.

“I… I actually can’t tell you why I did it,” I admitted. I keep trying to figure it out myself. Was it pressure? Obligation? Or was it something else, something darker? Did Dominic finally make me believe I had no choice?

Logan smirked. “It’s okay to want to try new things. Or more like… try-before-you-buy, you know?”

“Logan.” I shot him a look, but he only leaned back on the couch, enjoying himself.

“Hey, I’m just saying.” He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “You hurt your ankle, you were limping around… maybe you figured if you couldn’t run, you might as well drop to your knees.”

“God, you’re such an asshole,” I muttered.

“Better than a cocksucker,” he shot back instantly, grinning like he’d been waiting to use that line all day.

I groaned, covering my face with both hands. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

“Are you kidding? This is the best thing you’ve ever told me.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I should’ve placed a bet you’d end up giving it to Dom-Dom.” Then his voice softened, just enough to let me know he wasn’t only joking. “Seriously, though… don’t beat yourself up. You did what you felt you had to do.”

Did I have to? I’m not sure. Deep down, not so secretly, I wanted to. And it didn´t just happen once…

After that first time in the hot tub, we’d gone back to Dominic’s room without a word. Straight to bed.

The next morning, I woke with my face on his chest, my arm draped over his waist, his around my shoulders.

“Didn’t want to move and hurt your ankle,” he said when he noticed I was awake. “You cuddled in during the night.”

“Oh… uh… it was a bit cold,” I mumbled, trying to excuse myself even though I didn’t remember doing it. The memory of sucking my boss’s dick came rushing back, and heat flooded my face. Embarrassment, confusion, something else. Should I move away?

My fingers fidgeted against his abs.

“Glad I could help with that,” he murmured.

“It would’ve helped having clothes to wear…” I muttered back. And before he could say anything, I added, “But what’s the fun in that… right?” Repeating one of Dominic’s own favorite lines against him.

I expected a chuckle, some smug remark. Instead, he just looked at me, stoic as ever. The arm around me flexed, pulling me in closer as his hand reached for my head. His fingers threaded through my hair, slow and deliberate. My eyes locked on his, caught between wanting to look away and being unable to.

Then his palm cupped the back of my head, guiding me downward.

My cheek brushed against the hair on his stomach as he nudged me closer to his waist. With a casual push of his foot, the covers slid down, exposing the heavy outline of his erection straining against his black boxer briefs. My heart pounded. The proximity wasn’t unfamiliar, but the weight of what he was asking hit me all at once. I could have said no. I could have said again that I wasn’t gay.

But the only words that slipped out were, “I don’t… know how to do it.”

Dominic smirked. “You’ll get better at it,” he said, as if it were already decided, as if this was only the beginning. I should have felt insulted. Instead, my hand rose almost on its own, hooking into the waistband of his briefs and tugging them down.

His cock sprang free, hard and heavy, the heat radiating against my face. I wrapped my fingers around the shaft, unable not to admire it. At this distance, it looked impossibly larger, almost unreal. His hand still held my head, tilting it, guiding me, until my lips brushed the length. Instinct took over. I parted them and let the thick, swollen head slip into my mouth.

“I have a feeling there’s more,” Logan said, thumb and forefinger brushing his chin like he was piecing together a mystery.

Okay, I’d confessed to my best friend about what happened with Dominic in the hot tub. That didn’t mean I was about to come clean about sucking him a second time the next morning… or a third time back at the apartment.

But listen, there’s a reason. That morning at the summer house, when I went down on Dominic again, it felt different than the first time. In the hot tub, I’d been exhausted, vulnerable, almost swept along. But in bed the next day, I was more conscious, more focused on what I was doing. Which doesn’t exactly help my case…

Still, when it came to the climax - his climax - I hesitated. The moment I felt him throb, I pulled back. I let him spill on my face, warm and messy, and the next thing I knew, it was all over my cheek, nose, even my eyelid and eyebrow.

I sat up right away while Dominic caught his breath like nothing was wrong. He finally stood, went to the bathroom, and came back with a damp towel. First he cleaned himself, then he wiped me clean too.

On the way back, I couldn’t stop replaying it in my head. The way I pulled back. The way I chose not to swallow. Dominic said it had been great, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d fallen short. Like I hadn’t given him everything. And the strangest part? I found myself regretting it. Missing it, even. Not having taken him fully. Not swallowing.

Thankfully, Logan didn’t have much time to press me. A knock on the door saved me. I got up, still limping slightly, barefoot, wearing only a loose pair of shorts. On the way to the door, flashes of the third time came back to me, because yes, there was a third time.

It was after dinner at the apartment. We were saying goodbye, and Dominic made some casual comment about having enjoyed the meal, and about the time at his grandfather’s house. Then, just like that, he mentioned that with my two-week notice almost up, we probably wouldn’t see much of each other anymore, he’d have to focus on finding a replacement.

The words hit like a punch in the gut. I was the one who wanted to quit, sure. But hearing him say it so matter-of-factly, like I was disposable, cut deeper than I expected. This from the same man who had told me, more than once, that I was exceeding his expectations.

I wanted to make him regret it. To remind him that I wasn’t replaceable. So I pushed him back against the wall, dropped to my knees, and looked up at him as I unbuckled his belt. In one swift motion, his pants and briefs were at his ankles.

Looking back, it wasn’t the smartest choice for revenge. He enjoyed every second of it. And I ended up with his cock in my mouth. Again.

But this time I was determined. I used every trick I could remember from every ex-girlfriend and hookup: cupping his balls, massaging them, licking his shaft, teasing that little triangle beneath the head. His curses spilled out in raw pleasure, and when he tried to grab my head, I slapped his hands away.

And when the moment came, I didn’t just swallow. No, I drained him.

The memory still burned hot in my chest when another knock at the door snapped me back. I blinked, realizing I’d been standing there in the hallway, my hand already on the knob.

I opened the door and found Owen towering in front of me.

His face broke into a wide grin as he stepped forward and scooped me into a hug, nearly lifting me off the ground.

"I’m glad you’re okay, Connor," he said, crushing me like a twig in his big arms.

"Owen - Owen - please. I’d like to have a functional spine," I wheezed.

He finally set me down, and I stepped aside to let him in.

"I brought you soup. For recovery," he said, holding up a bag like it was treasure.

I frowned. "I sprained my ankle, is not the flu."

"You’re shirtless," he pointed out. "So... can I take mine off too?"

"Sure. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable," I said, waving a hand as I led him toward the living room.

"Wow!" Logan exclaimed as soon as he saw us. "Is this a steroid party? Are we sharing needles, or what?"

"This is all natural, baby," Owen shot back, striking a pose and flexing both arms. His biceps swelled impressively under the living room light.

I introduced my best friend to my new friend, half-expecting some clash of personalities, but to my relief, they clicked right away. The three of us settled in for a guy’s night - some beers, some laughs - and for once, I let myself enjoy it. No talk of the bar, no awkward questions, no holes in the wall. Just… normal.

After Owen and Logan left, I was cleaning the kitchen when a notification blinked on the fridge. Another appointment, not the one I already knew about at Dominic’s office with Vincent, the gym owner who was suing us. This one was for a doctor.

I texted Dominic, asking what the hell this was about. He called almost immediately.

“I just want you to be sure everything’s fine,” he said, his tone light, almost casual. “Nothing to worry about after the fluid exchange.”

Yes. Those exact words.

“I didn’t know I had to make sure everything’s fine.”

“You don’t,” he said smoothly. “You can trust me. This is just so you’re sure, before your contract ends.”

There was a pause, and then I shot back, “You don’t have to worry either.” After all, he’d swallowed mine once too.

I could almost hear his smirk through the silence.

“Fine,” he said at last. “Tomorrow, Raymond will drive you to the clinic. They’ll draw some blood, routine check-up, nothing else. Don’t worry, the bill’s on me.”

“Is this one of your games?” I asked sharply. “The doctor’s going to make me strip, walk around naked in front of everyone, just so you can humiliate me one more time?”

Dominic laughed, low and amused. “Connor. Really? Any doctor can make a patient get naked. There’s no thrill in that. You know I’m more creative.”

I hated that I almost believed him.

“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll go. Then I’ll see you later at your office.”

Surprisingly, the doctor’s appointment wasn’t what I expected. I’d been dreading it from the moment I stepped into the waiting room, convinced I was about to be told to strip in front of strangers while the doctor ordered me to bend over and spread my cheeks. Okay, maybe that was too specific, but with Dominic, I’ve learned to expect the unexpected.

Instead, it was just a regular check-up. Blood drawn, reflex hammer on the knee, the usual questions. The only part that came close to uncomfortable was when the doctor asked how many sexual partners I’d had in the past six months. I froze. If I counted the so-called “fluid exchange” with Dominic, then… well, he was the only one.

“Did you use protection?” he asked, eyes still on his clipboard.

“Uh… no.”

That got him to look up at me. “You should,” he said flatly, before pulling a few condoms from a jar and handing them over.

When it was finally over, I felt… almost disappointed. Relieved, sure, but also like I’d wasted all that nervous energy for nothing. I’d spent the entire ride to the clinic bracing for some kind of trap. Maybe Dominic had actually meant what he said, for once.

Raymond eased the car to a stop in front of a sleek, twenty-story tower of glass and steel. It wasn’t the tallest in the skyline, but it didn’t need to be. The place radiated money in a quieter, more deliberate way, polished stone steps, revolving glass doors trimmed in bronze.

I stepped out, my slight limp making me conscious of every movement, and craned my neck upward. All of this, every floor, every office, every window, belonged to Dominic. The thought that I might be counted among his possessions sent a prickle racing down my arms.

“Connor?” a voice called from a few feet away.

I turned and spotted a guy in an ill-fitting suit, clutching a leather briefcase that looked brand new. He had the look of someone trying very hard to appear imposing.

“I’m Chris Miller,” he said, offering me a handshake. “I’ll be representing you. Don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine. These kinds of disputes sound scarier than they are.”

I nodded, not entirely convinced by the way his eyes darted toward the building like he wasn’t so sure himself. But he was what I could afford. Even with all the tips I’d earned, I couldn’t just jump back into work until my ankle healed.

“Let’s go inside,” he said. We were just about to walk past the front doors when his phone started buzzing.

“Oh, shit, I gotta take this. Please, go ahead, I’ll catch up.” Before I could say anything, he stepped aside to answer. “Mom?! I’m working! I told you not to bother me when I’m working! Yes, I’ll buy milk on my way back home!”

I sighed long and hard. Suddenly, I started wondering what jail would be like.

The lobby swallowed me the moment I stepped inside. Marble floors polished to a shine, walls of glass letting in the morning light. It was calm, the kind of place where even your footsteps felt too loud.

I approached the reception desk, where a woman with a practiced smile looked up.

“Good morning. I’m Connor Foster. I have a meeting with Dominic Bennett.”

Her smile warmed, as if she’d been waiting for me. “Of course, Mr. Foster.” She picked up the phone and murmured something quick before hanging up. “Someone will escort you.”

Escort. I glanced around. Nobody else in the lobby was being escorted. Suits walked freely, heading to elevators without hesitation. Must’ve been because it was my first time there, I told myself.

She slid a visitor lanyard across the desk toward me. A moment later, a security guard appeared, tall, broad, built like a wall. “Mr. Foster? This way.”

I followed him, his presence quiet but impossible to ignore. Something about his face tugged at me, a flicker of recognition I couldn’t place.

We passed the elevator bank, and I frowned. “Aren’t we going up?”

“I have to do a check first,” he said evenly. “Please stretch your arms.”

“Uh… okay.” I hesitated, but nothing about his tone suggested it was optional. I lifted my arms. He tapped lightly down my sleeves, my flanks, my legs. The flicker of familiarity sharpened, then slipped away again.

“Turn around. Hands on the wall.”

I froze. That felt… excessive. Still, I obeyed, pressing my palms flat against the cool stone. His hands swept over my arms, traced across my back, then slid down between my legs. When they came up again, they lingered on my sides before patting my pockets.

“What’s this?”

“My phone,” I said.

“And this?” His fingers tapped my other pocket, then slipped inside. He pulled out the long roll of condoms the doctor had given me, holding it up between us. “What kind of meeting are you heading into?” His body brushed against mine, the heat of his uniform pressing close.

“Hey!” I exclaimed.

A new voice cut in. “Need help with that?”

I twisted my head and saw another guard approaching, grin unmistakable.

That’s when it hit me. My stomach dropped. I knew exactly where I’d seen them before.

I took a step back from them. "Wait… I know you. You’re the TSA guys. From the airport."

The first guard smirked. "Not anymore."

Relief flickered through me. "Good. Glad they fired you."

The second one barked a laugh. "Fired? No. We found a better employer." His gaze lingered on me.

 

[rigus]

Before I could fire back, the first guard spoke again. "Arms were fine. But I’m not sure about the chest. Take your shirt off for a proper check."

I blinked. "What?"

"Take it off," he said flatly.

My pulse kicked up. "I don’t think I have to do that."

"Depends," the second guard cut in, folding his arms. "You want to make it upstairs on time for your appointment, right? That’s up to us."

The implication hung heavy. I could simply back off and leave. But it was an important meeting, my future depended on being there. Sure, my attorney could handle things, but I didn’t feel confident letting him make any big decisions for me.

Jaw tight, I started unbuttoning my shirt and handed it off.

"Good boy," the first guard murmured, running his eyes over me before adding, "Now the pants."

Heat crept up my neck. "Seriously?"

They didn’t answer. Just stared, expectant.

I hesitated, my heart pounding. They were blocking the hallway, at least no one would see me unless they paid enough attention. Fortunately, everyone else seemed to mind their own business. Unless… maybe the almost-naked guy drew too much attention.

I started on my belt. The clink of the buckle sounded too loud in the pristine silence of the lobby’s side hall. I sighed and pulled them down.

They both looked at me as if examining me, then shook their heads. "You have to take them off completely," they said.

"Oh, come on!" I protested, but obeyed. I took off my shoes and stepped out of my pants, now standing in just underwear and socks.

They both checked me out, not like they were making sure I wasn’t carrying anything dangerous, more like assessing a racehorse.

"Turn around," one of them said. I complied, placing my hands on my hips.

"Is everything alright?" I asked, annoyed.

"I guess so," the first guard said.

"Uhm… I’m not so sure," the other added. "Maybe we need a good view of him without anything on."

"That’s not going to happen," I said immediately. Being down to my underwear had already been enough, but I knew this was Dominic’s doing, and he wouldn’t be satisfied unless I was completely humiliated. "If I take my briefs off… you’ll let me dress back?"

They both nodded. Then one added, "Take them off. Do a little twirl. Then you can get dressed."

I hesitated a second, then agreed. I huffed, sliding my thumbs under my waistband and bent to pull them down, handing them to the first guard, who had his hand out. The second guard collected my clothes from the floor, waiting for me to twirl. I did so with minimal enthusiasm.

"Can I get dressed now?" I asked.

"Sure," the second guard said, at the same time he tossed my clothes into the elevator just as the doors were closing. "Oops!" he called out.

"Why did you do that?!" I exclaimed, bewildered.

They simply laughed.

"You better hurry up," the first guard said, opening a door that led to the stairs. "Don’t bother trying to catch it, the elevator’s going straight to the twentieth floor."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I exclaimed, rushing up the stairs. Normally, fifteen minutes would’ve gotten me to the top without breaking a sweat, but my ankle throbbed, and by the second flight my pace faltered. I had no choice but to slow down.

There was no way I could make it to the twentieth floor naked and hurting. I opened the door on the third floor and snuck a peek. The hallway was empty. With one sock on my injured foot and using the other as a cock sock, I pressed the button for the elevator, hands clamped over my groin.

The doors opened. Fortunately, it was empty. I stepped inside, pressed 20, and waited. Catching my breath, I noticed something was wrong, the elevator wasn’t moving. I jabbed the button for 20 over and over. Finally, it moved, but the screen read “down.”

"No! NO!! NOO!" I yelled.

The doors opened back at the ground floor, leaving me stranded in the middle of the elevator. And there he was, Vincent, the gym owner and my former boss, the one suing Dominic and me.

"Well, well! Look who’s here," he said, stepping in, neatly dressed rather than in his usual gym attire. Beside him was another man, suit and tie, who nodded. "Nice to see you, Connor," Vincent said, standing uncomfortably close. "This is Charles," he added, nodding toward the man at my other side. "My attorney." He paused, then continued, "Charles, this is Connor. The very one we’re suing for damages."

"Don’t say!" Charles exclaimed with mock surprise, as if he hadn’t already memorized my face from the files. "I see they’re applying the strategy that was supposed to run in your gym, Vincent. It’s a slap in the face that we’re having our meeting today," he added, giving me a once-over, as if I were naked in the elevator to greet new clients.

"I… I’m not…" I stammered, trying to explain myself. "It’s…" But what could I say? How do you justify being half-naked in front of your former boss and his shark of an attorney? "Shouldn’t we be pressing a button or something?"

Charles pressed the button, then waved his lanyard close to a sensor by the elevator panel. The doors chimed and started moving. Why hadn’t I known about this?

I tried not to say anything on the way up. I stood between the two men, balancing on my good foot to ease the ache in the other, but I could feel their eyes on me the whole ride.

“Connor, you’re sweating. Are you alright?” Vincent asked.

“Here,” Charles said, pulling a handkerchief from his jacket. But instead of handing it over, he dabbed at my forehead himself.

“I’ve got one too,” Vincent chimed in, aiming straight for my chest. “You can’t arrive like this, sweaty, Connor.” As if showing up completely naked would somehow be more presentable.

“I’m fine! Really, I’m fine,” I insisted, trying to step back. But they didn’t stop. Charles pressed the cloth against my temples, then slid down to my cheek. Vincent wiped across my chest, lower to my abs, his hand too steady, too thorough. Then Charles lifted my arm and, before I could pull away, patted at my armpit.

The elevator doors slid open, and I rushed out, instinctively looking for my clothes. They weren’t there, no shirt, no pants, no underwear. Only the sock on one foot and the other one covering my dick.

I walked flanked by the two men. The hallway stretched ahead, lined with glass-walled offices. People moved about, some stopping to glance my way. Others stood from their desks or leaned out of cubicles as I passed. My cheeks burned, a flush creeping down my neck and chest.

We reached a desk, where Vincent’s attorney, Charles, asked for Dominic. The secretary glanced at us, then her brow furrowed briefly at me before she nodded.

“He’s waiting for you in the meeting room, right through that door,” she said, pointing. Every second I lingered there, the flush of embarrassment spread hotter.

We entered the meeting room. A large table dominated the space, a dozen chairs surrounding it, though only three were occupied: Dominic, Richard, his attorney from the restaurant, and Chris, my own attorney, who had arrived sometime between my inspection by the guards and my mad dash up the stairs.

All three stared at me, Dominic looking as shocked as anyone. Cut the crap, dude, I wanted to say.

I sank into a chair next to Chris, who leaned close and whispered, “Please… let me know in advance if you’re going to pull any kind of stunt. I should be aware of everything.”

“I’m not…” I began, but cut myself off with an annoyed huff.

The meeting was supposed to set things straight, maybe even reach an agreement. Across the table, Charles, Vincent’s attorney, sat like a predator in a tailored suit, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. Richard, Dominic’s attorney, was no less intimidating, calm, composed, his voice smooth and precise.

Chris, on the other hand, reeked of inexperience, nervously flipping through his notes and muttering under his breath. “Uh… so, uh… Mr. Carter claims that… um… losses… caused by, uh, the… absence of…” His words tumbled out in a jumble, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Every pause from Chris seemed to sharpen the angle of Charles’ stare. I could practically feel him smelling weakness.

Dominic’s expression was unreadable, but I could feel him watching, evaluating. I wasn’t sure if he was worried for me or enjoying the spectacle. Either way, it didn’t make me feel any better.

Seeing that Richard was holding his own, Charles turned his full attention to Chris, pressing him to make me entirely responsible for Vincent’s losses. I peeked at Chris again, stammering helplessly. My stomach sank. This was not going well.

Then Dominic intervened. “Let’s take a break,” he suggested. “I’d like to speak privately with Connor.”

I hadn’t felt so relieved in a long time.

I sat in front of a massive desk, Chris slouched beside me, fanning himself with a folder like the heat of the meeting had drained him. Dominic leaned back in his chair, composed as ever, while Richard stood at his side, quiet but commanding.

“This could end right away,” Dominic said.

“How?” I shot back. “Weren’t you in the same meeting I was? The man wants to pin everything on me.”

“I told you I can take care of this. I offered you Richard’s services.”

“You know I can’t afford him,” I said, glancing bitterly at Chris.

“It would be covered entirely, if you still work for me.”

I huffed, as if it were the most absurd thing I’d ever heard.

“You should listen to him, man,” Chris muttered, sounding almost relieved, like he wanted someone else to take the case off his hands.

“Oh, shut up,” I snapped at my useless attorney. “We both know what that would mean.”

“And is it really so bad?” Dominic’s voice was calm, cutting through my protest. “Would you rather go to trial, knowing you could lose?”

Silence pressed down on the room.

Richard stepped forward, sliding a neat stack of papers onto the desk. “This is a new contract,” he said smoothly.

“Sign it, keep working for me, and everything will be over today. You’ll keep the apartment, and you won’t need to go back to work at the gym or the bar anymore.”

I stared at the pages. We all knew it wasn’t that simple. Signing meant handing Dominic everything.

“You can take your time to read it,” Richard added.

I reached forward, but Chris interrupted. “Perhaps I should review it, as your attorney.”

I turned on him. “Please go. You’re fired.”

“Oh… really?” He didn’t even sound disappointed. If anything, there was a flicker of relief. He stood, gathered his things with a chuckle. “It was nice meeting you all. Uh… I attended the meeting, so I’ll send you the bill.”

“Talk to my secretary,” Dominic said without missing a beat. “I’ll handle it.”

I picked up the contract, gave it a quick glance. What was the point? No matter what it said, I was trapped. With a heavy breath, I took the pen and signed.

The moment my pen left the paper, Richard swept up the contract. He glanced at Dominic, who gave a single nod. Without a word, Richard left the office, leaving only Dominic and me.

I didn’t feel defeated. At least, I didn’t want to call it that. It wasn’t all bad. No rent, no legal bills. But the cost… the cost sat heavy on my chest. I’d agreed to too much already, and the thought of what else I’d be asked to give made my stomach knot.

Dominic stood, opened a drawer, and pulled out two crystal glasses. He poured a golden stream of liquor into each and set them on the desk.

“We should celebrate this,” he said, stepping toward me with one glass extended.

I took it. “Shouldn’t we be back in the meeting?” I downed it in one swallow, the burn leaving a trail of fire down my throat.

“Richard will handle it.” His smile was faint, almost amused. “Want some more?”

I shook my head and rose to my feet. “So… you got what you wanted.”

I drifted across his office, my eyes catching on the glass wall that framed the city like a photograph.

“I always do,” he said.

I felt him approach even before his warmth reached my back. Instinctively, I moved away, leaning against his desk instead. He followed, closing the space between us until he stood between my legs. He tipped back the last of his drink and set the glass down with a soft clink.

His gaze dropped to me. The sock was still covering my dick like some sad attempt at modesty. He hooked a finger under it and tugged gently. I didn’t react.

“You look tense,” he murmured.

“It hasn’t been a good day,” I said flatly.

“You should relax.”

His hands slid to my thighs, squeezing firmly before lifting me onto the edge of his desk. His palms moved to my waist, fingers pressing into my skin. He leaned closer, his face near mine, breathing me in. Slowly, he ran the bridge of his nose along the curve of my neck, inhaling like he wanted to memorize my scent.

I couldn’t deny it, I felt something. First the goosebumps, racing across my skin. Then that coil of heat winding tight in my core. His hands slid up my sides, strong and steady, until they reached my chest. His fingers grazed my nipples, already sensitive, making them harder still. Then he pinched them, both at once, sending a shockwave of pleasure straight down to my dick.

“Fuck!”

I grabbed his forearms, shoving them aside. But he didn’t stop. His mouth pressed against my neck, trailing kisses toward my shoulder.

“Now we’re kissing?” I muttered through a shaky breath.

“It’s in the contract. You should’ve read it,” he said against my skin.

“I bet there’s plenty in there I won’t like.”

He drew back, smirking, lips parted, breath warm on my face. “Oh, you will.” Then his mouth crashed onto mine.

I didn’t know what got into him, or into me. Into us. But I opened for him, his tongue sliding past mine, hot and insistent. My hands pressed against his chest, kneading, before sliding lower. I fumbled at his fly, dragging it open, and freed him. He was already stroking my dick. His cock filled my palm as I stroked him back, matching his rhythm.

He broke the kiss just long enough to growl, “Want to suck it?”

I met his eyes and shook my head. “I’ll fucking bite it off if I do. I’m so fucking angry at you right now.”

That made him grin. And then, without another word, Dominic dropped to his knees, and wrapped his mouth around me.

I leaned back onto the desk, first bracing on my elbow, then lowering until my back rested against the polished wood. Meanwhile, Dominic devoured me, mouth working my cock, hands locked tight on my thighs as if I might pull away. His hunger was unreal, the pull of his throat sending sparks through my whole body.

My fingers clawed at the desk edge as he dragged me closer, forcing me open for him. He moved lower, tongue flicking over my balls, then tracing further, hot and slick, until he pressed against my taint.

I gasped, a helpless sound slipping out. When I felt his tongue pressing at my hole, I slapped my palm over my mouth to muffle the moan. He licked, teased, then pushed, his other hand still stroking me in a steady rhythm. My hips jerked, torn between wanting to get away and wanting to melt into it.

Then, suddenly, he stood. His chest rose and fell, wild and hungry, sweat glistening at his temple. One hand clamped tight around my thigh while the other guided his throbbing cock to my hole, circling my rim with the swollen tip.

“I want to fuck you,” he rasped.

My answer was sharp, immediate. “No.”

“Not now,” he said, his eyes locked on mine, burning. “But I will.”

He yanked me upright and crushed his mouth to mine. The kiss was savage, demanding, leaving me breathless.

My breath was ragged. Then he pressed close, took both our cocks in one strong grip, and stroked us together. Skin against skin, wet and sliding, until the pressure snapped and we both spilled, shuddering against each other.

I wasn’t ready for what he wanted. But I knew he’d get it anyway.

 

[Tphilatl]

I knew Connor was screwed. He’s destined to continue to be striped naked and humiliated.