Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Pretty sure precum is coating the tip of my cock.
“I said.” He slides an arm beneath my stomach, lifting me up. “Ass in the air.” His palm falls on my ass cheek hard, and I gasp as a rough voice leaves him. “Mmm. I missed the look of your skin wearing my marks. You do wear them so well. Tell me, Preston, how many hits should this unblemished skin take for your travesty tonight?”
My lips tremble as I grab two fistfuls of the sheets. The belt really hurts—I can feel my skin throbbing even worse with his heat so close.
But I love it. The pain. The fact that he gives it to me without holding back.
Thwack.
I grunt as my ass cheeks explode in the aftermath of the hit, and my cock physically jerks despite the absence of any other stimulation.
“Ungh…fuck…”
“That’s not a number.” Thwack. “Try again.”
“F-five.”
“You think that’s enough after you made me watch you flirt with someone else?”
Thwack.
I jolt, my ass pulsing despite the pain, but not more than my dick that’s basically spurting all over the place. “That’s not…fuck… I wasn’t flirting.”
“Then what were you doing when you were smiling at her?” Thwack. “Ruffling her hair?” Thwack. “Being so fucking unguarded?” Thwack. “Is she your type, Preston?”
“She’s a friend…”
“A friend who’s your type? So soft and pliant and smaller than you?”
“No.”
“Then what is your type?”
“I don’t have one,” I lie through my teeth. Sure, I didn’t have one, but now, my type is starting to look a lot like this bastard.
“No?”
I cry out as he grabs a fistful of the bruised skin, and a spark of pleasure and pain rushes straight through me.
“You do have a type, baby.” Thwack. “It’s me.”
I’m a leaking mess now, my cock so stimulated, I’ll come if I just—
As I’m about to rub my cock against the edge of the bed, Marcus pulls me back with a handful of my ass. “No, you’re not coming yet. If at all.”
“Fuck…” I lift my head and look sideways at him. He looks like a sex god, leaning over me, belt in one hand and my ass in the other. “Don’t edge me, asshole.”
He slaps my ass, and I release a sound that’s between a moan and a groan. “Ask nicely.”
“P-please.”
“Please what?”
“Let me come…”
“You want me to jerk you, baby?” He reaches his hand with the belt below my waist, barely grazing my dick with it.
“Yes…yes…fuck!”
“How about I wrap my lips around your huge cock? You love that, don’t you? You let out all these needy noises when I take you deep and suck your cum dry.”
“P-please…”
“Mmm. You are making a fucking mess, so maybe I should take care of it.”
He pulls his hand away and stands up straight, then I hear movement.
He appears in my peripheral vision, opening his side drawer and fetching the lube.
I swallow thickly, somewhat disoriented by the pulsing of my ass and cock. The pain and pleasure are so closely intertwined, they feel like one and the same.
Marcus slides back to his previous position, and when I look behind me, my eyes widen.
Because fuck. As he slides his jeans and boxers down to his knees, the striking daisy and dagger tattoo isn’t the only thing that’s exposed.
There’s also his very hard, purple-veined cock.
Is he…that hard because of me?
Or maybe because he whipped me? Probably the latter, considering the guy is a certified sadist.
I’m such a masochist for finding it hot. Not the fact that he’s hard—though that’s making me twitch—but the fact that he got hard because of hurting me.
Only me.
Marcus’s eyes are molten lava as he says in gruff words, “Show me.”
“Show you what?” I whisper, my aroused voice unrecognizable in the silence.
“How much you want me to make you come.” He pours lube on his cock and jerks himself a few times, and my mouth waters. “Crawl back toward me. If you feed your ass to my cock, I’ll let you come.”
My lips falter. “You’re…sick.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Is that a no?”
I’m throbbing so hard, I can’t think straight. I could probably just jerk myself off, but I wouldn’t enjoy it like when he does it.
There’s just something about the way he touches me that makes me buzz out of my fucking skin.
My body’s trembling a bit as I release the sheets and get on my hands and knees, shifting back hesitantly.
“That’s it.” His gruff words vibrate along my spine.
I crawl back steadily, staring at the floor, but when I glance behind me, he’s watching me with eyes so gray, they’re verging on black.
“Do you have any idea how you look right now? You look like my very good boy.”
“If you dare tell anyone about this—”
“Shh. Don’t bring others into what we have, baby.” His words are firm. “Fuck them, okay?”
“Yeah. Fuck them,” I repeat, my heart lodged in my throat.