Page 23 of The Club

“Hm.”

“Why?” I ask, frustrated and still angry with him.

He takes his hand away from my cock. He turns me to face him, but I don’t get a chance to study his eyes before he clamps a hand on my shoulder. I could resist, fight him, but I don’t want to. Not yet. I let him force me to my knees.

“Suck me,” he orders.

While I work on his pants, he takes off his shirt. I pull his black briefs down below his heavy, swollen balls, freeing his huge cock.

It’s so fucking beautiful. Thick and long, threaded with veins, that fat mushroom tip leaking a bead of precum like a diamond. I catch it on my tongue. Dominic makes a pleased sound then groans in pleasure when I take him into my mouth.

I suck him to the back of my throat. He doesn’t give me an answer, so I grip his balls, tugging hard. He pounds into my throat, making me gag and choke, making tears stream from my eyes.

He pulls free without coming and crouches, bringing his face close to mine. He swipes the tears from my eyes.

“Go make me a drink.”

“Tell me about your second date. Was it a man?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fuck him?”

“You’re very concerned about it.”

“Weren’t you concerned tonight?”

“That’s different. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I’ll react to it anyway, just like you reacted tonight.”

“Go make me a fucking drink, or I’m going to tie you up and leave you—and I’ll take the controls from you.”

I shiver—but not in pleasure. How did he know that denial is the one thing I can’t stand?

He unlaces my shoes then draws me to my feet. I toe off my shoes. He shoves my pants down. When his hands discover the bare flesh of my ass, he squeezes it. He plays with my g-string.

“God, you’re filthy.”

He slaps my ass. I shove my pants off, removing my socks with them. I’m wearing only my black g-string and matching tie now, but I leave them. I wait to see if Dominic will finish undressing, but he tugs his underwear and pants up over his hard cock, zipping, and gives me a warning look.

I head to the bar. I don’t normally obey this easily, but I am afraid of him punishing me with denial. I can take anything but that.

It was a trick. He doesn’t let me get there.

He charges in, grabs me, and slams me down on the bar. He must have had a sachet of lube in his pocket because his fingers are slick when they spear into my hole. I cry out at the unexpected intrusion. He strokes hard inside me, scissoring his fingers impatiently.

But it’s his cock I want. “That’s not what I—”

“I don’t care what you want, Rafael. I make the decisions.”

I’m so frustrated and angry that I just lay my head on the bar and take it as everything inside me coils hard and tight even as my ass loosens at his insistence.

He abandons me abruptly. I collapse against the bar then look back to see him walking around the room again. He’s considering the options.

I go to make the drinks and watch him. I’m upset, shaking a little, but I still manage to pour two tumblers of bourbon.

I think this is new to him. The toys. The tools. But he doesn’t ask me any questions. He studies everything for himself.

---