Page 8 of Gambler's Conceit
He wasn’t kidding about not giving me more time to adjust. He pulls his fingers out and immediately pushes his cock against my hole. The blunt head forces its way into me, and I spread my legs wider for him.
This is easy. This isgood. Even the feeling of just the tip of it has my body flushing with need.
After everything, sex should be painful. I should be averse to it.
Yet, here we are, and the uncomfortable stretch turns into something I want more of.
Master.
It should be laughable, but there’s this part of me that recognizes the word as appropriate. As welcome, even.
I shove back against him, urging him to push harder, deeper, and I don’t bother to fight back a helpless moan.
Caleb’s nails rake across my skin as he relentlessly pounds into me. His cock slides against my prostate, and I damn near howl as the pleasure and pain zing across my senses. He absolutely knows how to use his cock, and there’s nothing fake about my reactions.
Am I glad for it, or is it even more terrifying than the promise to keep me?
“Should I let you come?” Caleb asks, leaning down to nip my shoulder. “Or should I leave you hanging while I use you—and use you, and use you, until you’ve forgotten your own fake name and beg for release?”
I’m so into the sound of his voice and the fantasy of it all that I don’t immediately realize he’s pegged my fake name right in the middle of fucking me. It’s not a surprise, exactly, but I hadn’t expected him to bring it up right now.
He has too much self-control, and I don’t like it.
But I’m not going to argue right now, not when I want so badly to come and forget all the uncomfortable, unwelcome thoughts that keep threatening to invade my mind.
“Please, Master,” I mewl. “Please, let me come on your big, thick cock.”
Overkill? Maybe. But it feels right, too, and a little flattery never hurt anyone.
He growls and reaches around to grab my cock, stroking me roughly, without any real rhythm. It feels good, even with how his grip gets too tight and how his nails catch on the head of my cock.
Maybe it feels good because of those things.
“Do it,” Caleb whispers. “Let me feel you come around me, pretty boy.” He bites down on my shoulder.
The strangled sound that escapes me is too real, but I can’t hold it back. I’m not sure if it’s the words that could so easily turn into endearment or the way he’s playing my body, and really, it doesn’t fucking matter, does it? All I care about is that I’m on the verge of coming, and the next stroke of his fingers around my cock sends me over the edge.
I cry out again as I come all over his hand, my body shaking with the force of my orgasm—an orgasm that should be unwanted, unwelcome, but somehow just feels so damn good.
Caleb strokes me through it, his own thrusts becoming erratic. I can tell he’s coming when his hips slam forward even harder, and his movements slow.
I collapse onto the bed, and Caleb follows, not letting me escape his embrace. His cock half slips out, the tip remaining inside me.
My heart is pounding in my ears, and my entire body is thrumming from the aftermath of the orgasm.
It takes me a moment to realize Caleb is kissing the cigarette burn scars on my back.
He’ll have more questions, probably, and they aren’t questions I want to answer—or even questions Icananswer. I can’t even say I did it to myself because of where the marks are located, which means I’m stuck coming up with some more bullshit he won’t believe.
I squirm beneath him, suddenly needing to catch my breath, and I feel trapped by the bulk of his body atop mine.
“The house always wins,” Caleb murmurs. “You were right about that. But it’s because the house doesn’t play by the same rules.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from making a retort. What I’d say, I don’t really know, but mouthing off always manages to get me in trouble. Now isn’t the time to piss him off and get chained to his bed, where I have no hopes of escaping. No, I have to go along with this… right up until the point I don’t.
“Yeah,” I say feebly, but I don’t want to dwell on that conversation, so I add, “I need to pee.”
Caleb nods. “All right.” He pulls away from me, then grimaces. “I think I ruined the suit.”