His Master's Voice #2 (The Dollhouse Society)
Page 5
I wanted to pleasure him. I wanted to lick and kiss my Master everywhere, but he held me down, a hand in the middle of my chest. “No. Lie still, pet. Let me love you tonight.”
His mouth slanted against mine, his tongue sweeping across my teeth—slowly, provocatively, like he was counting them. He then shifted slightly so he could kiss and lick my eyebrow. I realized he was touching me everywhere I had sustained an injury like some kind of holy anointing, and the realization made my heart flutter. He slid down my body until he reached my rib cage. There, he kissed me deeply, his tongue tracing the place where my ribs hadn’t healed quite right and made a small concave dent in my side. He growled when he realized this, and I could feel the combination of his anger and his passion mounting.
Master moved lower, using both hands to spread my legs and extradite the plug before licking over the places he had visited this morning. The hot flicker of his tongue first licking and then grinding against my sore little hole left me grunting and writhing on the bed. I reached up and laced my fingers through the scrollwork of the iron headboard and closed my eyes in an attempt to ground myself for what was coming.
“You were very good today, pet,” he said, his words barely more than a breathless whisper. “Do you want your reward?”
“Yes, Master. Please, Master.”
He unlocked the heart-shaped lock of the cock ring and I was released from the tremendous pressure—though not from my need for him. He licked me up and down and then tenderly kissed the very core of me. “Open your eyes, pet,” he instructed. “I want you to watch me take you.”
I did.
He knelt between my legs, playing with himself. His dick was thick and swollen and dripping, and his balls tight and bright pink. He used himself like a toy to tease over my opening. “Don’t come,” he said as he inched the big, soft head inside me before withdrawing. The plug had stretched me well this afternoon, but he was so much bigger, and I grunted when he nudged into me, then withdrew and repeated the gesture, over and over, going slowly but each time going a little deeper. Watching him fuck me like this was one of the most erotic things I had ever seen.
He was buried halfway inside me when he withdrew, his eyes shining with a wild animal lust that made my heart pound like a drum. He shifted up my body, gripped my shoulders hard enough to bruise me, and arched his body. “You are mine, boy,” he said and slammed that magnificent cock home, filling me in a way he never had before.
I threw my head back, crying out at the impact. My hips bucked wildly on the mattress as he rode me hard. He buried his gritted teeth in the side of my throat while, with each savage thrust, he worked me wider and buried more of himself inside me. With each thrust of his pelvis, he lifted my ass off the bed before slamming it hard against the mattress. He rutted like a wild animal with me, and I grunted from the impacts, my fingers growing sore around the curlicues of the headboard, the pleasure—so close to pain—making my eyes roll all the way up in my head.
“Such a gorgeous little whore, yes?” Master hissed in my ear. “Do you like this…being my pretty little fuck-boy? Do you like being used this way?” His words, romantic and perverse and nearly otherworldly, filled my head and my heart, and at the end of every sentence, he punctuated it with an ever harder jolt of his hips that left me moaning and certain I would have bruises inside and out in the morning.
I didn’t care. I was so, so hard, and it was so difficult to hold off, but I put everything I had into the effort. I wanted to be a good courtier. I wanted to be the best he would ever have. I wanted Master to love me forever.
His thrusts came faster, more erratic, as he reached his end. His voice digressed into one long snarl and he bit hard into my shoulder and held me down while he shivered all over. His princely cock twitched deep inside me, and he filled me to overflowing with his come.
Panting with exertion, he pushed himself up and said, “Come. Now. I command you, pet.”
It was a relief to let go. I cried out with my release, shamelessly jetting come all over the two of us. Soon after, Master rolled over so I was on top. He gripped me by the hair and pushed my head down against his body. He was rough and demanding. “Clean me up.”
I did exactly as he instructed, licking every drop of my spend from off his body. He pulled on my hair, dragging my head up, and kissed me. “You may have a future in this yet, pet,” he breathed tenderly against my lips.
I shivered with his words while I looked down into his ice-grey eyes. In that moment, I knew I was his, now and forever. And I loved it.
But it also frightened me to death.
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Look for
HIS MASTER’S VOICE, PART 3
Coming Soon!
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About the Author
Jay Ellison lives in the big city with his partner and several rescue dogs. He writes m/m romantic erotica. To see all of the Courtesan Press titles, visit http://courtesanpress.wordpress.com.
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