Page 18 of Blackmail
“Jesus Christ, this ass is perfection,” he says before smacking it again.
“I’m pretty sure Jesus has better things to think about than my ass.”
“Just for that, I’m going to keep going until I turn all this pretty golden skin back here bright red.”
Keep going, he does. Every couple of times his hand strikes my ass, he changes it to a soothing touch, sliding his palm over my heated flesh and what feels like a thumb teasing my cleft. He switches sides and repeats. It’s always pain followed immediately by pleasure. It becomes a rolling rhythm where, eventually, I can’t separate one from the other.
At some point I realize I’ve got tears rolling down my cheeks, and I don’t even know why.
His front presses against my back. “Suck me again.” The two fingers are back, pushing between my lips and sliding against my tongue. While the fingers of his right hand are ravaging my mouth, the left wraps around my weeping cock again.
“Thank fuck.” Except my mouth is full, so it doesn’t come out right. Mostly, it’s a drooling mumble. A little embarrassing, but I’ve got a stinging ass and a desperate need to orgasm, so fuck embarrassing.
Those same fingers leave my mouth and probe my hole, pushing their way inside. It’s not gentle. His fingers are insistent and steady, and I suspect the burning pressure is the point. I hope so.
My teeth sink into my lip, but I can’t stop the whines and groans that leave my throat when he brushes against my prostate. “I need more.”
“I’ll decide what you need.” His hand leaves my cock.
Yes, please. “Oh, come on.”
A forceful slap hits my left butt cheek. Then the hand is back on my dick, and if I didn’t already have tears on my cheek, I would now.
“I want to hear ‘please’ when you ask me for something. And you can either call me Sir or Sebastian. Otherwise, I’m going to spank this gorgeous ass instead. I can’t jerk your cock and finger your ass and spank you all at the same time, so choose carefully.”
Fuck. Why, why, why is that hot? I should be pissed that he’s threatening to hold my orgasms hostage unless I call him Sir, except then I hear myself whispering precisely what he wants to hear.
“Yes, Sir.”
“That sounds so good coming out of your mouth. Say it again.” He growls against my ear and then sinks his teeth into that spot where my neck meets my shoulder. I shiver and hope he’ll do it again.
“I’ll say anything you want if you let me come. Sir.” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. I know I’m being a little shit, and yet I can’t help feeling so pleased.
I’m having an out-of-body experience right now. This might really destroy me. I might not survive. I’m not even sure I mind.
Especially when the hand shuttling over my cock speeds up, and his fingers fuck in and out of me harder, more insistently. Every time his fingertips hit my prostate, I moan louder.
By the time my release spills over his hand, I’m a blubbering mess. My hands slide halfway down the door. There I am, ass out, with my legs barely holding me up.
My knees almost buckle. More than once.
I’m still catching my breath when he pulls me against him. He peppers kisses and bites over my arms, side, shoulders, and neck before he spins me and presses his lips to mine again. Our tongues tangle, and this time, I give as good as I get without even thinking. He’s well and truly fried my brain.
He’s still hard, and neither my pride as a man nor my professional dignity will let that stand. However, I’m unsure how much that second one applies now. Not much, if I’m being honest. Whatever.
He pulls back, and I make the mistake of opening my eyes. A naked desire has replaced the earlier fierceness on his face. Something raw.
“God, you’re perfect,” he breathes.
Holy shit, I’m in serious trouble. Out to sea without a paddle. I’ve had clients who were fine, and some I even kind of liked. But if I knew Sebastian in a different context, I might have difficulty not coming back for seconds. The chemistry between us is something I’ve never had before.
Until his face changes, and I see reality set in. He takes a step back.
“Shit,” he says again, and this one doesn’t sound like the good kind.
The regret in his voice is echoed all over his face.
Fuck. No. Please don’t regret me.
