Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Only to force his knuckles hard against his mouth to bite back a scream as Brand’s naked, lube-slicked fingers suddenly drove into him.
Two at once, the lube doing almost nothing to stop the spearing, hot sensation flashing through him as if he’d been stabbed. He sank his teeth into the back of his hand, whimpering, sobbing against his fingers, struggling not to let Ms. Vernon hear him as he writhed and bucked his hips, played like a helpless little marionette on those demanding, thrusting fingers. Oh God---oh God, he was going to come right now like this—
Except Brand stopped.
He stopped, leaving Ash writhing against the desk, chest heaving, tears beading on his lashes in pure frustration and denial. Yet Brand didn’t make him wait for long; the faint rustle of fabric, and then he felt that thick, dripping cock-head against him, that shaft as cruel as Brand himself, hardness sliding against the cleft of his ass and smearing both lube and hot-smelling pre-come against his skin. Ash whimpered, small in the back of his throat, tensing for pain. Tensing for that scouring sensation he’d known once and craved again, that fullness that only Brand could give him. He caught his breath, squeezing his eyes tighter shut, as those teasing strokes stopped, the tip of Brand’s cock pressing between his flesh and kissing against his sore entrance.
Then screamed against the back of his hand, biting down until he tasted blood, as thickness forced into him, spreading him wide.
He was too small for this. Too small for Brand, but that was what made it delicious and perfect and right…that Brand could make him feel all wrong and all right and so deeply violated and sheltered and protected at the same time. There was a sick, dark intimacy in how young and fragile he felt beneath Brand’s heavy bulk, unable to resist those hands that kept him so firmly pinned, one against his nape, the other against his hip, holding him still and giving him no choice but to suffer in sweet agony as that long, heated shaft slid slowly, slowly deeper. He felt like it was licking him from inside, hot against his inner walls, and he lifted his hips toward that burning cock and begged with his entire frail body to be broken.
Only to choke on a sharp cry as Brand’s hand came down once more, and struck sharply enough across Ash’s ass to burn.
His hips jerked forward, his body tightening—and a mewl startled from his throat as that sudden clutch made him squeeze against Brand’s cock, imprinting his shape from inside. Ash gasped out a sobbing breath as Brand did it again, hand coming down in a punishing slap…but this time countered by a short, sharp thrust, cock moving inside Ash demandingly. Ash could barely muffle his cries against his fist, his other hand snapping up to grasp the edge of the desk, holding on for dear life, for something to anchor him when Brand was going to destroy him like this. Again and again—that vicious hand, that cruel cock, abusing him in tandem rhythm until he was dizzy and screaming again and again against his hand, biting over and over and spreading his thighs until his disarrayed clothing bit into his flesh. Every thrust slammed him into the desk; every deep surge of Brand’s cock pushed at him from inside until he could feel it, ridged against his belly where he pressed against the desk; every punishing crash of that hand against his ass made his cock jerk until he was dripping, painfully hard, nearly sobbing for release but his sensitive flesh refusing to let him come again so soon.
Yet he nearly fell over the edge, as Brand suddenly stiffened against him, ground deep, working inside him…and then a soft catch of breath, a sudden rush of wet warmth, a slick and spilling feeling pouring into Ash and making him feel perfectly dirty and sullied inside. He whimpered against his knuckles, struggling to catch his breath as Brand spent himself. There was a moment of silence, the feeling of something almost like a second heartbeat inside him, rushed breaths…and then Brand’s fingers slipped around the edge of his hip, teased against his cock, slid down to cradle his sac in one broad and weathered palm.
“Are we not finished yet, young Master?” Brand mocked, his mouth hot and wet against Ash’s ear, his voice an insidious thing slinking inside him. Ash could only answer with a hoarse, gasping keen as Brand toyed with him—rolling and cradling his sac until sensitive flesh drew up tight, fingertips grazing the undersize of his cock, playing him as if tugging his strings to make him obey Brand’s every command. And what Brand’s touch commanded was Ash’s pleasure, his wholehearted undoing.
He barely lasted another minute—a minute of twisting, of helpless writhing, of quivering inner thighs and tight heat in the pit of his stomach—before that hot sharp sensation cut through him like a whip breaking skin, lashing him violently, leaving him shuddering in helpless convulsions against the desk as he wet Brand’s fingers.