Dean Walsh was happy with his new life, his job, his girlfriend. Until his boss, billionaire Salomon Ellis, discovers his darkest secret. From then on, he will hold Dean hostage to his whims in exchange for his silence.
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It was seven-thirty when I left the Square. No vans waiting. None would come for at least another hour. I called an Uber and started the long walk to the nearest gates. My legs protested, still shaky, my thighs still like stones, my groin still oversensitive. What I pity. My head could use the stroll in the quiet evening, down the neat lanes lit by spherical lamps that radiated a warm golden glow every few feet. I thought the fresh air would help me clear my mind. I was wrong. It remained the muddled blank it was when Big Ellie left the room. Like the hormones overdose had drowned any ability to thinking straight. I was not only tired: I felt mentally drained.
It'd been worse than I'd ever expected. Even worse than the first time, because the element of surprise had been taken out of the picture. I was fully aware of what would happen, and the ugly truth was that I'd enjoyed it. Once he'd gotten me started, my body had left my mind to deal with whatever troubled it and gave in gladly to the son of a bitch's skill and timing.
Not that I was a womanizer and had loads of sexual experience. I'd been with the outstanding amount of three girls in my whole life, and that included Steph. But my girl was far from shy, and she would never refuse to try something new, no matter how kinky. Hell, she'd been the one who had set up her friend Marsha for the only threeway I'd ever taken part in! That was one of the reasons why I loved her and had never even thought about cheating on her. When it came to sex, she always delivered whatever I needed or fancied.
Had he said to be continued? I'd given him yet another excuse to keep summoning me to the third floor whenever he wanted. To try to make me confess. Frigging perv.
Why did he do it? His status and his money granted me access to whomever he might want, any age, gender, race, sexual orientation. Who would say no to him?
Then why me! Why corner me and force me to let him do such things to me? Was it because my two years in prison made him think I was into guys? Or because I wasn't, so he could force that onto me as well?
I got in the car and sighed. That cushioned backseat felt good.
My guts twitched in a flashback.
I hadn't enjoyed it. I'd frigging loved it.
The son of a bitch did like to see me quiver, hear me moan and pant and beg, keeping complete control at all time. I'd never experienced anything like this before. Something so intense, so overwhelming, for so long. It had completely shut down my brain. Not only when I was right about to come and he stopped, which felt like a bucket of cold water. After the second time he denied me relief, my head hadn't cleared with the upsetting frustration. It'd stayed in some kind of limbo where everything was raw and physical and arousing.
What was I to say to Steph in ten minutes? Shit! What would I do when she sought our usual goodnight action? I still recalled that after my first one on one with Big Ellie, I'd been able to get it up for her, but my body hadn't been able to hold back, and the whole thing had been more about urgency. It hadn't felt so good. Like scratching a mosquito bite furiously. I didn't think I could deliver even that tonight. All I wanted was crash and sleep all night.
