“No leaving places with anyone except me.”
Another, harder.
“You disappear again, and I’ll show you what real punishment feels like.”
And then—
He fucks my throat like it’s owed to him. Like my mouth isn’t for speaking. It’s forthis.
My hands grip his thighs. My eyes blur. My throat burns around him. I can’t breathe, but I don’t try to stop him. I’m dizzy.
He groans. A brutal, beautiful sound.
The metal of my cuffsclinks, knees ache, tears stream.
He pulls out.
But he doesn’t let me go, keeping one hand behind my head, gripping.
He strokes his cock, fast and angry. Then he moans ragged and explodes all over my face, sending thick ropes of cum across my cheeks, lashes, nose.
I flinch, but don’t move. I take it, mouth open, tongue out, eyes squeezed shut.
He’s not done.
He drags the slick head of his length across my lips, along the bridge of my nose, smearing heat and filth with every messy swipe.
“Fucking. Mine,” he growls, trembling through the last waves of ecstasy.
The water rushes over my face, cleansing me, but I stay frozen, eyes shut. Like if I move too soon, he’ll vanish.
Then I look up.
He’s panting. His eyes are lidded, hungry, glazed in satisfaction.
I did good. I know I did.
“Grayson.” I swallow, my voice tiny. “You forgive me, right?”
His fingers hook under my chin, harsh and uncaring. I offer him a smile, small and nervous. Soaked in hope.
He stares at me.
And shakes his head.
“Forgive? Hell no,” he murmurs. “You’renothingto me. You’re a stupid hole ready to suck anyone.”
He lets go.
And walks away.
The shower door opens. Heat rushes out, replaced by a cold so sharp it cuts. He leaves me kneeling in water, feelinghollow.
Alone.
“No,” I whisper. “Grayson, please—”
I scramble after him. Slipping. Legs bruised and aching. Fingers clawing at wet tile.
