Page 48 of Love by Design (Club Rapture: Risk Aware #1)

I walked around to the front of him, almost on display like a woman at a ball, and Marshall eyed me with a dark and primal sort of intent. He sat down on the couch and pulled his cock out of his pants. He was hard. He was hard, and I wanted to get onto my knees and suck him.

“What, Silas?” he asked, stroking himself from root to tip.

Precum pearled against his slit and with a quick swipe of his fingers, it was gone.

“Just want you, Sir,” I managed.

“Rightly so.” He sucked his tongue across the front of his teeth. “Go find lube and a pair of nipple clamps. Get a pair of wrist cuffs while you’re at it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The downstairs playroom wasn’t nearly as well-equipped as the upstairs space, and I quickly realized I’d have to leave him to get the things he’d demanded. He didn’t seem bothered at the prospect, sprawled out on the couch with his dick in his hand like a king with his scepter.

I imagined he was that—to me.

I walked quickly upstairs, sliding into the first playroom.

The door was cracked open, but there were people inside.

Lincoln, I realized, with Riot there on his knees with a mouthful of cock again.

Clearly Lincoln’s work was only an issue when it suited him.

Neither of them saw me, Lincoln lost to the pleasure of the other man’s mouth, so I grabbed what I needed from the armoire against the wall and made my way back downstairs to Marshall.

He looked the same as I’d left him, and I went to my knees at his feet, all the things he’d asked for clutched in my sweaty hands.

“You’re trembling,” he said, taking everything and setting it down beside him.

“I always do.”

“I know. I like it. Now take off your clothes.”

I managed to strip naked while still on my knees, resting my hands on the tops of my thighs, palms up after I’d finished the task. Marshall surveyed me like I was chattel, and the casualness of his perusal had my cock pulsing like mad against my stomach.

“Definitely worth celebrating,” Marshall said, almost under his breath.

He held open one of the cuffs and I set my wrist in it. Carefully—as always—he closed the clasp around my wrist and again kissed the delicate place where the leather met my skin. I shivered, arousal coursing through my fingers as he repeated the motion with my other wrist.

“Over your head,” he said next, and I raised my arms, which gave him clear access to my chest.

Marshall leaned over, resting his elbows on his thighs so he could toy with my nipples until I moaned and gasped his name.

My nipples were hard, erect, and he attached the clamps to each one with a brutal efficiency.

I managed another gasp when he tugged the connecting chain between them, and his smile was absolutely feral.

Hooking his finger under the chain, he lifted it up, tugging at my nipples to the point of discomfort.

I realized too late what he wanted, and he grabbed my chin with this other hand, pulling my mouth open and easing the chain between my teeth.

My chin quivered, every tremble like a thousand pounds of pressure on my chest.

“Perfect,” Marshall mused, beckoning me to my feet, then onto his lap.

I turned so my back was to his chest again and straddled him…

somewhat awkwardly not being able to see.

His cock was slick with lube, poking against my backside, and then he reached up and bent my arms back, dragging my joined wrists together behind his head.

I’d never felt so exposed, my muscles tense from the predicament bondage he’d managed to put me in without even a foot of rope in sight.

My lashes fluttered, and a slick finger eased into me, turning and pressing against my prostate.

I tried to cry out, the sound muffled by the chain between my teeth.

Marshall hummed, sounding pleased, then slowly fucked my hole with his finger until I writhed on his lap as much as the bondage would allow.

To my relief, he replaced his finger with his cock, and I sank down onto his lap, impaled as he’d always planned.

Marshall eased me all the way down around him, curling his hands over the still dark bruising on the fronts of my thighs.

He spread my legs a little bit wider, fingers pressing against the marks from earlier in the week.

“Ride me,” he whispered into my ear, grasping the smallest sliver of flesh between his fingernails and pinching down on me .

Hard.

I jerked on his lap, pain lancing up my thigh, through my nipples.

The muscles in my arms were taut, stretched behind him, and then he pinched another spot, then one on both sides, and I couldn’t stop myself from shaking on his lap.

The pain was fucking acute and all over at once.

Marshall groaned low and deep in my ear, then slapped the inside of my thigh hard, the biting sting of the impact a warning.

“Silas,” he warned. “I gave you an order.”

I didn’t remember how my legs worked. All I knew was to hold my arms up, keep my head steady so I didn’t pull too hard on my nipples, but another quick slap against my thigh reminded me and I started to move.

Beneath me, Marshall was all tension and restraint, and I did exactly as he’d asked.

My hips were jerky, circles aborted because the pleasure inside of me was still too clouded from the pain outside me.

“Help,” I pleaded, the word barely more than a garbled whisper. The chain caught on a tooth, and I sobbed.

“What’s that?”

“Help me, please. Sir.”

Marshall dragged his hands across my battered skin, sliding one up to my throat and the other to my hip.

He was still dressed, the only bare part of him his cock which was fully inserted into my body.

The denim of his jeans rubbed against the bruised backs of my thighs, and his hand collared my throat like a hug.

My dick throbbed, hard and angry between my legs.

Ignored.

“I’m going to fill you up with so much cum it leaks down your thighs,” he said into my ear, biting down on the lobe and taking over the movements required to get us there. “My fucking prize.”

Marshall bracketed my hip with his other hand, pushing me down as he slammed up into me.

The way he fucked me was measured yet barely controlled.

The force of him enough to jostle one of the clamps free of my nipple.

I shouted in agony as the blood rushed to the right side of my chest, and Marshall grunted, going still as I convulsed around him.

He was close to coming. I could tell by the way he moved.

I’d learned his body, become familiar with his sounds.

Eventually, his pace faltered, his breath caught, and Marshall raised his hands back behind him, tangling our fingers together.

He used my neck to muffle the sounds of his pleasure, thrusting twice more beneath me before going utterly still.

Cum pulsed from his cock, filling me just like he’d promised.

“Mine,” he rasped.

Low.

Final.

I closed my eyes and went limp against his chest.

Sated and overflowing in more ways than one.