Page 20 of Ryker

Until he tries to gag me with it.

“Suck.” He presses down on the back of my tongue, and my gag reflex kicks in.

“Relax your tongue.” His lips curl into a cocky smirk. “And suck.”

I know how to give head. This is harder. The pressure is different, and my eyes keep watering. Squeezing them shut, a tear slips free as I wrap my lips around his thumb and draw it in till my cheeks hollow.

“Good girl. Open.” I obey, and he replaces his thumb with three big fingers instead. My lips wrap around them, and he snaps his fingers by my face. “I didn’t say close your mouth, Butterfly.”

More tears prick my eyes, but I keep my gaze locked on him and open my damn mouth again. He shoves his fingers down my throat and I gag hard and ugly.

“Breathe through your nose,” he growls, unyielding. With his fingers in my mouth like this, I can’t get my throat to stop convulsing. Saliva builds up, and I choke on it. He pulls out and wipes his fingers on his pants, then walks away from me. “We’ll work on that.”

Jerk.

I’m stuck between wanting to throw something at him for humiliating me just now and begging him to do it again.

“You will stay on your knees until I return, Butterfly.” He shuts the door and leaves.

With. My. Belongings.

Chapter 8

Ryker

After carrying Tara’s suitcases into my office for safekeeping, I quickly pull up the suite cameras, expecting to find her walking around, likely cussing me out for my behavior. Imagine my surprise when I see she’s right where I left her.

“Good girl.”

Her obedience won’t last. It’s early. She’ll get up soon, I’m sure of it.

I’m good at reading people, finding little cues that let me into their deeper desires. Trained in the art of sex, I’m a master at working a body over until it’s puddy in my hands. She’ll break sooner rather than later. Especially with me as her Dom.

Pulling my cell out, I hit the security system app and expand the video feed so I can leave the office and carry on with my evening while monitoring her.

Tonight is all about damage control.

Tara fucked shit up for me and I’ve made it so much worse by letting myself get swept up in her game. If I don’t act fast, the Monarch’s prestigious reputation will go down the drain like cum in the private sauna.

“Excellent ceremony, Mr. Hudson. The tally was the highest to date.”

I stop long enough to shake the hand of the politician talking to me. “Thanks, Ryan. It’s always humbling to see the generosity of my club members.”

“Generosity is a bit of a stretch. Though watching you reach into your wallet for that prize piece of pussy was the highlight of the night. Some of us were wondering if you were a eunuch.”

“I still might be,” I joke, flashing a fake smile. “All I did was donate to a charity that’s dear to me. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Blake Rittenhouse joins the conversation. With a cigar in one hand, the other in his pocket, his impassive expression leads me to think he’s hiding his anger over being beaten as the highest bidder. “Who did she choose as her Dom?”

“That’s confidential.” Which he knows.

Blake’s gaze sweeps the lobby. “I saw Dmitri already, which means it wasn’t him. That man never leaves his Butterfly, even to take a piss.” He puffs on his cigar and blows the smoke a little too close to my face. “Or so I was told.”

He wasn’t told shit. The NDA contracts prevent any information from leaking.

Vault, Bull, and three of my female entertainers stroll past us to head to the elevators. They’re each carrying large cases with them, filled with high end sex toys to play with.

“And there goes your other two prized stallions.” Blake smirks at Ryan before facing me. “Maybe no one wanted her.”

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