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Seven made me yell. Eight made me bite into my arm so I wouldn’t. And nine and ten made me bleat like a tortured animal, but I didn’t cry. I blinked back the tears, because I knew if I could get through it, he’d fuck me. He’d promised.
The whole dominance thing was really pushing my buttons. The fact that he had me bent over a desk with my pants down and was disciplining me like I was a delinquent teenager was totally doing it for me. Also, despite my small size, I’m fucking strong. I can put up with a lot.
“Do I get my reward now?” I said, panting and sweating and shaking.
“Oh, you are an eager little bunny, aren’t you?”
“Fuck, yes. I mean, yes, Sir.” My voice wasn’t steady, but I didn’t know if that was from suffering or anticipation.
I hissed as Alastair rested his palm on my sore skin.
“Shhh. You’re doing so well, Toby.”
Those words did something to me. They made it all worth it. I would run through literal fire to hear Alastair praise me.What is that about?
He smoothed his palm over my flaming cheeks, causing the pain to come to the surface again.
“You know it’s gonna hurt, right? Getting railed after a spanking like that?”
I couldn’t explain why that made it hotter. Was I officially a masochist now? Had I always been one? Had Alastair suspected?
“I don’t care. Anyway, I deserve it.”
“For being good or for being bad?”
“Does it matter?”
He laughed. “No, Mr. Dunn. It doesn’t.”
I cracked a smile. Now that my brain chemicals were overriding the intense pain of the discipline, I floated in a hazy space of pleasure and warmth and arousal. I heard the crack of a lube bottle opening, then the cool fall of liquid down the crack of my ass.
I moaned with anticipation and at the frigid relief of the cold substance. “Oh my God.”
“You want this?” Alastair asked, as he smoothed the lube down my crack and swirled it around my hole.
“Oh my God. Yes. Fuck, yes.”
“All right, naughty boy. I’m gonna fuck the fight right out of you.”
I wanted Alastair—this—so bad. This hot, toppy, dominant version of Alastair was the answer to prayers I hadn’t even known I’d made. It was something that had been set in motion the day he’d come upon me having a smoke outside Maverick Molly’s and when he’d fixed the laces on my shoe. This seemed like the inevitable result of that initial meeting.
Alastair pushed his finger all the way into me, making a soft sound in his throat.
I grunted and laid my forehead on my arms, lifting my ass for him and giving him access.
“God, you’re fucking hungry for it, aren’t you?”
“Starving.”
I was somewhere out of reality but firmly planted in what was happening this instant. The hunger in my gut was intense, and my cock dripped with the anticipation of a solid fucking. I wondered how much it would hurt, how hard Alastair would pound my burning ass, and shuddered.
“Soon, Toby,” Alastair murmured. The finger slipped out, and I almost cried. I didn’t want to be empty.
A belt buckle clanged and fabric rustled.
“Just getting sheathed,” Alastair mumbled, and I appreciated the info. He could have fucked me bare, and I’d have never realized because I was in such a state of need and desire I didn’t even fucking care. But it was good to know he was taking appropriate precautions, even if the idea of forgoing the condom seemed hot in the moment.
“Let me in, baby. I know you can take it.”
