Page 8 of His Prize
“That’s it,” he said in a rough, hungry voice. “Take it all.”
I didn’t have much of a gag reflex, even when I wasn’t in heat. That probably came from all the practice I’d had with alpha cocks in my throat over the years. I pretended to sob and struggle as my prince held my head with both hands, pulling my hair slightly, as he thrust deeper and deeper into my throat. He used short thrusts at first for friction, then long, slow ones that cut off my air and had my throat spasming around him to remove the obstruction.
It was hard to explain to someone who didn’t have a thing for pain and fear how much of a turn-on it was to be in a situation where you could be legitimately damaged or killed if your play partner wasn’t also in on the fantasy. I felt real fear as my lungs burned harder and harder while my prince was clearly in ecstasy. Real fear and real, womb-deep arousal that had my cock standing rigidly in front of me and slick seeping down my thighs.
You couldn’t really grasp the erotic appeal of that humiliating danger unless that same bit inside you was as bent as mine was.
“God, yes,” my prince gasped as he started to come.
He must have really needed it. A lot of the alphas I’d played with held onto that first orgasm and saved it for later. My prince let himself go right away, though.
I swallowed the first few spurts instinctively as it hit the back of my throat, but then my prince pulled back and stroked the rest of his orgasm out all over my face as I gasped and coughed and fought for air. I caught a bit in one of my eyes, which just had tears streaming down my face even more.
It was all perfect for the fantasy.
“What do you say?” my prince panted once he was wrung out, one hand still fisted in my hair and keeping me upright.
I pretended I didn’t know what he wanted and sobbed before saying, “Please. Please let me go.”
“Wrong!” my prince shouted, yanking my hair. “You say, ‘Thank you, sir’.”
I pretended I still didn’t get it and wept and shivered instead of playing the good boy, resigned to his fate. My balls were tight with the need to come, and my hole spasmed in anticipation of being stretched by my prince’s massive cock.
“I see I’m going to have to teach you some manners,” my prince growled.
He shoved me to the side so I lost my balance, then stepped back so he could remove the rest of his clothes, looking at me with a heady mix of pretend contempt and real desire as he did.
Half the people in the ATC control room had looked at me with contempt when I’d pushed back from my station, thrown off my headset, and collapsed in on myself as the realization of what I’d almost caused to happen hit me.
“Pull yourself together, Austen! This is why omegas shouldn’t be allowed out of the house.”
I gasped, fighting to get back into the scene. It would be okay. Everything was going to be okay. My spoiled prince owner was about to punish me. I could pay for everything I’d done wrong, for the lives that had almost been lost because of me.
“Get up!” my prince shouted once he’d undressed completely.
He was stunning naked. It was more than his enormous cock and heavy balls. His body was young and fit, like he worked out. He was the epitome of what a powerful, sexy alpha should be.
“Come on.” He reached down and grabbed the ropes binding my arms together behind me and pulled me up to my feet as if I weighed nothing. “You’re of no use to me if you don’t obey.”
“Please, please,” I panted once he had me on my feet and was leading me across the room to the St. Andrew’s Cross.
“Please,sir,” he growled.
“Please, sir,” I repeated.
“That’s more like it.”
We reached the St. Andrew’s Cross, and he shoved me up against it. He bent to secure my feet in place before untying my arms and stretching them out to the tops of the cross. I groaned and panted, showing him my fear and the pain in my arms as they were bound a different way. Then I cried and pretended to panic as he stepped back and grabbed one of the floggers I’d seen on the table as we’d crossed the room.
Honestly, it was all pretty standard stuff for the sort of fantasies I liked to play. My prince was really good with the flogger, making it hurt enough to send my endorphins tingling. I responded the way I knew I was supposed to, and he seemed to be enjoying my reactions.
After a few minutes, a niggle of disappointment started to bite at me. Was that it? Was my prince the sort who just wanted to beat weakly on an omega for a few minutes before fucking them the way they could fuck pretty much anyone he’d met at a club?
The part of me that had been hoping for more, that wanted something strong enough to drown out the voice within me that shouted I was a failure, that all of my work for the last ten years meant nothing, that I could have gotten people killed, was so disappointed that I stopped paying attention to the pain.
Until I suddenly felt two fingers push fast and hard into my hole.
I gasped and my head snapped up as my prince growled, “Did you hear what I said, boy?” against my ear.
