Marcus juts his chin in my direction, his arms crossed over his chest, his muscles seeming about to rip out of the fabric. “Allof it.”
I hook a finger beneath the band of the boxer briefs, pulling down slightly to reveal my V-muscle, but not my groin. “You going to join me anytime soon, or do you only get off on watching others strip like a pervert?”
“You get off on stripping for me.” He tilts his head to the side. “I can see you getting harder by the second. You like being watched by me like a little slut?”
Heat rises to my ears, and I’m about to release the band, but he shakes his head once.
“Either strip completely or leave, Preston. We’re not playing your hard-to-get games tonight.”
This asshole.
This motherfuckinglittle bitch.
“I told you not to fucking threaten me, Marcus.” I pulldown my boxer briefs anyway, suppressing a groan as my engorged cock bobs out.
Because hellno. I’m not leaving without sex tonight. Call the horny police.
I’ve already been having serious withdrawals over the past week. I’ve been blaming my extensive sexual life over the years, but really, if it were just about sex, I could’ve easily found a willing body.
But I was pathetically uninterested in anyone who’s not this major prick standing in front of me.
“I’m not threatening you.” He takes a step forward, his eyes darkening on my cock. “I’mpunishingyou.”
I swallow, the sound hanging in the thick air as he bends and grabs my belt that I abandoned on the floor.
My lips part when he straightens again, looping the leather around his hand in a slow, methodical movement, his heated gaze on me the entire time.
Why does that look…hot?
“Kneel facing the bed.” His words caress my skin before they register in my brain.
Instead of overthinking, I turn away from him and drop to my knees, my head resting on his sheets.
They smell like him—leather and warmth.
It’s just so warm, I can’t help inhaling deep.
“Ass in the air.” His rough words slip beneath my skin and rush straight to my balls.
Fuck, why is this side of him such a turn-on? Honestly, what’s happening right now? Me—being ordered around and forced into this position?
Seriously, will the real Preston please stand up?
Thwack.
I jolt as red-hot pain explodes on the backs of my thighs. Heat rushes through me in its wake along with something a lot darker—arousal.
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.
