Thank God Taylor was at Daphne’s and Matteo was indisposed. Because this was aboutmypleasure, and Vincent’s enjoyment came second to that—and maybe not at all.
After about ten minutes, I could tell he was suffering, and it wasn’t from the pain of the spanking, although his ass had pinked up nicely. He moaned with each strike and the cage bumped my leg. My jeans were getting wet from the amount of pre-ejaculate he was producing. This was all going very well to plan.
I stopped and rubbed my hand over the heated swell of his buttock, then wet my other finger and dipped it between his cheeks again. When the tip made contact with his hole, Vincent cried out.
“No, no, no,” he panted, trying to squirm away. I held him firm.
“Your safeword is ‘stitches’, if you forgot.” I continued to press against his hole.
“I didn’t!”
“Then stay still and let me play with you.”
Vincent made a sound like a sigh or a sob and went limp.
“Yes, Sir,” he said, voice ragged, and I mentally congratulated myself on a job well done. But it wasn’t over yet.
Taking my time, I pushed my finger slowly, tortuously, into Vincent’s ass as he made the most defeated sound and shuddered with desire—desire that he had no hope of releasing.
“Good boy,” I said, wiggling my finger as Vincent whimpered.
He froze as I adjusted the position of my hand so my finger stroked over his prostate.
Vincent made a strangled sound.
“Oh, boy, I bet that feels good. I want to keep you in this state of frustrated arousal for the rest of the evening.”
“Oh, Sir,” he groaned, giving himself up to me and my wishes, like the obedient boy he was. In the end, I’d let him pull up his pants. Then I’d made him stand by the sofa and watch me masturbate myself to orgasm at least three times, until he was a trembling wreck of a man who could barely think straight.
Then, even though I’d made him imagine he’d be in this state all night, I unlocked the cage and pulled it off, then went to my knees and took his poor, leaking cock in my mouth. He came in less than a minute, choking me on massive amounts of jizz as he cried out, struggling to keep his hands behind his back.
I swallowed it all, then stood and took his dear face between my palms and kissed him long and slow and dreamy, until he melted against me and begged me to take him to bed, after thanking me for the privilege of being exquisitely tortured.
Chapter Four
Matteo’s headache had gone by the time we woke the next day. He had cuddled up with Vincent in the night and now they were both awake and canoodling beside me.
“Somebody got out of their cage, I see,” Matteo said, his hand moving under the blankets in the vicinity of Vincent’s groin.
“Not until Nic had tortured me over his lap for an hour,” Vincent muttered in a contented tone I knew all too well.
Matteo chuckled.
“It wasn’t an hour,” I said, yawning and moving in behind Matteo, who felt warm and smelled lovely. “How’s your head?”
“Fine now. Thank you for letting me rest undisturbed yesterday evening.”
“No worries. I kept Vincent very entertained downstairs.”
Matteo glanced at Vincent who squirmed at the memory. “Yes, it sounds like it.”
Vincent groaned and side-eyed Matteo. “What are you doing?”
“I’m playing with your morning erection,” Matteo commented blithely. “Would you like me to stop?”
“Never.”
I grabbed the blankets, whipping them off the mischievous pair in one motion, then propped my head on my elbow and peered down at the action. “At least let me watch.”
