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“Master, please, I can’t do this anymore.”
Again, I was silent, but this time, I moved, sliding to my knees so I was level with him. One of my massive hands came down on his ass, slapping it hard once before I manhandled it, gripping, squeezing roughly while my piggy complained.
“Master! Can you hear me?”
“Unfortunately, yes, so shut the fuck up, pig.”
A gasp that was purely Theo came from him, shocked, disconcerted, and affronted by my words, but he managed to shut up until I brought my other hand under him, gripping his flaccid cock.
“What are you doing?”
I didn’t speak, but I started slapping the hand on his ass over the cheek repeatedly; at the same rhythm, I stroked his cock. Oh, it took a long while for him to start to get hard, but he did, and then the complaints came louder, and so did his breathless pleas.
“Please, Master, you’re gonna kill me! I can’t come again; I can’t keep coming, please, Master!”
It was a beautiful sight, Theo’s round ass with a dildo moving in and out of it quickly, his pretty balls all tight, and his cock hanging there, my hand around it. If I could paint, I’d remember that and paint it and hang the fucking thing over the mantel.
I hit him harder, and I felt it, Theo’s cock in my hand leaking and jumping whenever the slaps got painful. Yeah, my little snob, the man that screamed the first time I spanked him that I was killing him, was quickly becoming a pain slut. Who knew?
My hand was stinging, but I set it harder as he was close to coming again, and when Theo let loose, he hung limply after, crying a little.
But I didn’t stop. No, the little fucker deserved it, and besides that, I knew that deep down, he loved it.
I stroked him quickly, milking his beautiful cock, getting him to stiffen again, though it wasn’t easy. My other hand was burning from the slaps on Theo’s ass, and tiny bruises were already showing.
He was close to coming again, whining terribly, his body shaking with the sobs, and I stopped. I moved my hand from his dick, stopped the slaps, and reached over to switch off the machine.
“Master…Dixon…please, no more,” he whispered, coughing through a sob. I hurried to get him out of the straps and held him on the floor, feeling like I was floating with him on pillows and clouds instead of on a hard, cold floor.
He clung to me weakly, but his lips pressed my neck. “Master, I’m sorry.”
I knew why Theo thought he had to say it, so I clucked my tongue at him. “You won’t say that again, or I’ll put you back on the machine. The safeword is there for a reason.”
“But I feel so…weak.”
I rocked him on my lap and whispered, “You’re one of the strongest men I’ve ever known, and I’ve known strong men, Theo. You lived through a terrible childhood withoutthe[t7]nurturing you needed, and you found a way to cope until you found love. Now, you embrace good people, give of yourself, your money, and time, and you want to love even more. I’ve never been so proud of you, my darling Theo.”
He raised his head, blinking at me sweetly, licking his dry lips. “Yes?”
“Yes. I am so in love with you.”
“Take me to bed. I’m so exhausted, Master, please?”
“Yes, baby. Right to bed.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
I couldn’t believe the change in the house. It had been remodeled before the sale, so Brett and Ryan had little to do, but that didn’t stop Theo from helping them turn it into a showplace like he was doing to ours.
Wool throw blankets on the white leather sofas, designer pillows strategically placed over those, thick, fuzzy rugs, crystal, and, of course, the plants.
He’d brought over ten instead of twenty, so I won by half.
For the party, there were white pillars, tapers, and votives all over, perched nicely in crystal, and the food was made by a woman in town Noah knew that catered.
Theo fussed over things, but Brett took his hands and pulled him into their nice kitchen, and I was in Ryan’s arms instantly. “How are you holding up?”
I laughed and admitted the truth. “We’re finding our way. You?”
