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He released his grip on my jaw and slipped his hand into my hair far too gently at first, but then he grabbed a handful of it, clenching so hard that tears leapt back into my eyes. I gasped.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Stay very still.”
I gazed up him, saying nothing, doing nothing, feeling the way he owned me and this moment.Iwas nothing. I was no one but Mitchell, the HIV-positive shit stain, the whore boy whose father had—
I swallowed the thought down.
Luke pursed his lips and a glob of gooey, shiny spit hung from his lips for a long moment until it fell, splattering on my eyebrow. I closed my lid against the inevitable hot, slick slide of it down to my lashes.
“There. That’s more like it,” Luke said. “You’re a filthy cocksucking whore, aren’t you, Mitchell?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whispered. My breath came in sharp pants, adrenaline rushing in my veins. The room spun. The name felt like a slap. I went hot all over.
“Let’s try this again,” Luke said, his voice oozing with smug nastiness. It wasn’t quite hate, but it was getting closer. “Why are you here?”
“To get hurt, Sir,” I whispered.
“And what else?”
“I don’t know.” He tightened his grip in my hair, and I whimpered.
With his free hand, he smeared the pooled saliva all over myface, down to my lips, and then up into my hair at the temples until I was coated with his juice, sticky and slimy with it.
“You’re here to be used,” Luke said. “To be my bitch. My fuck toy. My dick’s slave.”
My cock pulsed, and pre-cum slipped from the slit. I felt it slide down the side of my cockhead and start a slow, honeyed trail down to the floor. I hadn’t realized I’d grown hard again, but apparently I had—probably around the time he spit on me and called me Mitchell. I shivered at that.
“You’re HIV positive,” Luke said.
Shame like a splash of cold water hit me, and I whispered, “Yes, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir, what?” Luke pressed.
“I’m HIV positive, Sir.” I wanted to vomit saying it, and yet my cock was straining hard now. I felt myself sinking into a place that was thrumming with lust, shame, horror, and hot need too, a place where orgasm was held just out of reach.
“That’s right. You are.” Luke’s voice grew grittier, and I felt it in my balls like a vibrator. “I am too.”
I wanted something more. I didn’t know what, but I wanted him to hit me already or spit on me again. I spoke impatiently. “I already know that. You told me before.”
Luke gripped my hair and tugged it, jerking my head back. “How do you speak to me?”
The pain was sharp and fast and I feared he’d pulled out a handful of my hair. Tears welled in my eyes, and my cock pulsed greedily. A flare of fear went off inside me, shiny and bright. This was good.Thiswas what I needed.
“Sir! I’m sorry. Please, Sir, you’re going to pull my hair out.” Deep down, I craved to see his hand come away from my head with a bloody hank of blond.
His lips curled into a smirk, and his cock seemed to push evenharder against the front of his jeans. “You beg nicely,” he said.
Ugh. I didn’t want him to call me good or to praise me. I wanted him to smack me. Tell me I was a cunt to be used. Choke me out like Kyle would, or just roll me to the floor and start fucking into me already. What was he delaying for? Why was he making me wait?
His eyes went cold. “But not nicely enough.”
The slap rocked my head back, and I cried out. Fucking hell, that hurt, and with him holding my hair, the wrench on my scalp was agony too.
I loved it.
“Say it again,” Luke bit out, releasing my hair to unzip his jeans and release his hard cock. “The right way. And thank me for correcting you.”
His dick was thick at the head, and already wet with pre-cum. My mouth flooded with saliva. A yearning to taste him filled my mind, loud like the buzz of bees on a hot summer day.
