Page 59 of Five to Love Him
“Time for a lesson in humility, you little highborn prick.”
He pushed inside, the burn of it forcing my concentration to the extreme. The intrusion filled me nearly to the brim within moments, and Conrad, ever greedy, didn’t care to wait before he started to pound in and out of me, the rhythm he set punishing. This vigor, this devotion, it was a corner piece of the picture of my love for him.
The foresight I’d had in making sure there was nothing on my afternoon schedule before calling him here was a relief. The thought of sitting through a staff meeting after being penetrated was so not appealing.
“You insolent little prick,” I managed, my fingers aching to grab myself, an impossibility with the way Conrad was taking me, something he allowed only rarely anyways.
“Call me sweet nothings, Farr. Do you have any idea how good your hole looks, stretched around my cock?”
“You lie!”
He stopped his obscene pace, pushing deep into me so that our hips were snug, so that he could lick my ear before whispering, “I’m not lying. You’re all pink around me. Kind of loose though, like a rubber band that’s been stretched a little too much. Makes me wonder what you’re doing in this office of yours all day.”
An unbefitting whimper escaped me, my control faltering. “No…”
“Hmm? That good, huh? Tell me you love me, Farr.”
“I loathe you,” I managed, but my voice was a wafer in a priest’s maw, breaking under the weight of sinner’s breath.
He reached around me, squeezed my own cock in those hands of his, too tight to allow for immediate release, so tight it hurt in the best of ways.
“You’re my master, so if you loathe me, I’ll take it as command to do loathsome things.”
I clamped my mouth shut when he resumed moving in and out of me, the sounds our bodies made lewd and luscious. My struggles for composure were in vain, and soon my legs trembled with the sole effort of standing.
“C-C-Con—I…ah!”
He groaned into my ear as he cummed deep inside me, one hand digging fingers into my hip so hard I would be marked, the other still preventing my own release, the desperate need setting my every fiber on fire.
He brushed his head against mine, tenderness when I was still on fire in the metaphorical sense, twitching around his wilting cock that had wet my insides with his juices.
“You feel so good. You feel as good as the first time we did this,” he whispered, some of the edge gone from his voice, not enough, of course, that he would stop holding me back.
“Y-you never—I would never, with someone as base as you.”
His amused breath flooded the shell of my ear. “Right. Right, I forget about how stubborn you can be, sweetie. Do you want to cum, hmm?”
“How dare you?” I managed, just barely as my legs were threatening to collapse underneath me the moment he pulled out of me.
“You sound like a kitten dunked in cold water and dressed in silken finery. Admit you want to cum, or I won’t let you.”
I squirmed. This threat was not an empty one, I knew that well, having tested it before. He might prevent my release if the next words I said were the wrong ones, and since Conrad was a man who could hold a grudge, mayhap he would carry on this way later tonight when I got home, would torture me while taking his own pleasure and never admitting mine.
Whichever way I looked at it, the calculus wasn’t in my favor.
I let out a long, hitching breath. “I want to cum.”
“That so?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to have to manage with your tight little ass all filled up, Farr, and you’re going to have to do it in your pants.”
“W-whatever…you dare?”
“I sure do.” He reached underneath my jacket, finding my kerchief, given he had put it there earlier this morning, and used it to wipe himself when he pulled out of me, excruciatingly slow. “Keep it in. I want to see your hole clench shut, or you’re not cumming today.”
I ground my teeth, swearing that I’d have vengeance, knowing vengeance would work out about as well as running away to eat pilgrims and clear my mind of wanting him had.
