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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"Breakfast?"
I nodded without opening my eyes and rolled over to lie flat on my back. I found his body halfway, laying on his side behind me, so I rested against his chest. His hand guided my leg up to bend over his hip, exposing my crotch, where it landed a moment later. I didn't hold back the muffled groan he pulled out of my lips as his fingers wrapped around my morning wood, wet in oil.
My head felt like filled with wet cotton, my limbs felt like sacks of rocks. I was numb and weary and I would've liked to go back to sleep and not wake up for a couple of weeks. Maybe by then my muscles would have some tone back and I would be able to have two straight thoughts.
He didn't take as long as the thousand times he'd edged me the night before, all night, nonstop, until the day broke. But it was anyway long for a morning wood. Later on, I would pause to wonder how on earth could my spoiled cock still get hard after what it'd been put through only hours earlier. Right then, I just let him do, lost to his touch and the ripples drowning me inside, soaking my brain in that muddled bliss I wouldn't have changed for the world.
"Go back to sleep," he whispered in my ear after I came, and helped me lay back in bed, still shaky and panting. "I'll call you for lunch."
I didn't had breath left to answer so I didn't bother to. The moment he got out of bed, I rolled over to lie on my side, my back to the door, and threw my arm over the pillow. I was so exhausted that I hardly registered that he covered me with the soft cotton sheet up to my chest and caressed my hair.
I didn't hear him walk out of the room: I was already sound asleep.
My phone woke me up. I managed to pick up before the call skipped to voice mail, feeling I wanted to keep sleeping another year, because the previous estimate of weeks wouldn't be nearly enough to be back in shape to stand on my own feet.
"Tell me you're okay with some carbos." How could he sound so frigging awake and sharp? He'd been up all night like me and he was twelve years older! I tried to reply and could only grunt, making him chuckle. "If you think you can get downstairs without tripping and breaking your back, you can join me for the best pepperoni pizza in town."
This time, he didn't wait for an answer and disconnected. I left the phone on the nightstand and rested on my elbow, rubbing my face while I tried to open my eyes. The idea of food found a way to my clouded head somehow and my belly grunted in sympathy. Yeah, I could use a bite, and pepperoni pizza sounded great.
But I needed a shower first. That is, if I was able to get out of bed.
Turned out I was. I dragged my feet across the room to the bathroom and my eyes fell on the hot tub. We'd used it the night before, but I was too busy trying to keep my heart from a fatal arrest to enjoy the relaxing jets of warm water. Somehow I made a mental note to try it later on, alone, and got in the shower.
As I washed my body, I tried to remember details from the night before. Mission Impossible. I only had scattered recollections. He'd kept me so high and hard, that my brain had taken a rain check. I felt oddly calm. I knew I'd given completely in to him and I honestly couldn't care less. Not to the extent of letting him fuck me. He'd kept his word and didn't do anything I didn't want, so my pretty ass was still intact inside. But I'd let him toy me more than usual. And no matter how crazy it seemed, it felt like something I should've done long before.
