Pushing Connor (The Dungeon #4)(11)

Making quick work of it, Connor untied the rope around the testicles. They remained though against Matthew’s body.

On a caress, he cupped Matthew’s sac with one hand and pulled the cock string in a smooth motion with the other. Matthew struggled within the bonds, pulling at the knots, head thrown back. Before the last clip was removed, he started coming, his whole body taut.

Connor stepped back, avoiding the splash zone, without releasing him. Swiftly, Connor pulled the cock ring free. Blood rushed out of the deflating dick and it fell limp between Matthew’s legs. With a final groan, Matthew’s head dropped forward, his chest rising with his labored breath.

Once Matthew had recovered, Connor let him down and untied him. His own muscles protested, the exhaustion starting to settle in.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For coming without permission.”

Connor gave a little shrug, which Matthew couldn’t see from where he was standing with his head bowed. “I didn’t tell you otherwise either, so I’ll let that slide for now.”

He didn’t have the strength to keep up the scene, and he wanted Matthew gone, so he could unwind a bit.

“Thank you, Sir.” Matthew fidgeted from one foot to the other.

“You may go now.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

With Matthew out the door, Connor could breathe again. He looked around the room, checking to see what needed to be done before his next appointment. As he worked, he replayed the scene in his head.

It didn’t bother him that Matthew had come without permission, or that he came at all. These things happened, even if the club didn’t sell sex. But what did bother him was his reaction. He’d wanted to hurt Matthew. He’d wanted to elicit a strong reaction from him. He hadn’t wanted to inflict actual damage, but he’d wanted to make Matthew suffer—the kind of hurt Alin had begged him to unleash. With Alin, he hadn’t been able to. He’d known that he shouldn’t, and that Alin hadn’t been mentally stable enough to take it.

So why were things different with Matthew?





Chapter 5


Wesley opened the oven and took out the tray. He placed it on the stovetop to check the state of its contents, and decided they needed a few more minutes. From there, he moved to examine the table he’d set. Taking a couple of steps back, he measured the distance between the candles he’d placed in front of their seats. Squinting to help him better estimate, he moved each.

He adjusted them again, then fussed with the rest of the decor. It had to be perfect. It was over two weeks since they’d returned from Paris, and since then, they hadn’t had the chance to spend too much time together, much less involve themselves in any kind of physical activity. Which he missed. It wasn’t only the closeness of sex but the rush, and the mixture of feelings submission brought out in him.

The leather harness creaked when he moved, the sound both familiar and exciting. He tugged and twisted until the straps were sitting in a comfortable position.

The front door opened just as he put the roast on the table.

“In the kitchen.”

“Something smells nice.”

Wesley chose not to answer. He could hear Connor removing his jacket and shoes, then walking down the corridor toward him. Wesley fidgeted as he waited for his lover.

Then Connor stood in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in what he was seeing. His gaze brushed over the table, lingering on the lit candles, his eyebrows quirking in surprise. From there, he turned to Wesley, and froze, shock written clearly on his face. As his eyes roamed Wesley’s body, arousal replaced the surprise. Wesley shuddered under the intensity of Connor’s gaze.

“What are you doing?” Connor’s voice had a dark quality to it that had Wesley break out in goosebumps.

“I thought you would be hungry, Sir.”

“I am.” Connor leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “What did you have in mind?”

“I made you a roast, with salad and rice. And ice cream for dessert.”

Connor gave the table a look, before returning his attention to Wesley. “I find I’m not that hungry after all.”

Wesley swallowed his disappointment. He lowered his gaze, not wanting to face Connor anymore. “I’ll clean this up, then.” Turning on his heel, he headed for the light switch.

“Wait.”

Wesley froze, reacting to the command in his lover’s voice.

“I didn’t say you could move.”

Adrenaline spiked.

“Turn to face me.”

Wesley obeyed instantly.

“Assume position.”

On cue, Wesley spread his legs slightly and clasped his hands behind his back. Connor pushed away from the doorframe and came toward him.

“I see you had something other than food in mind when you decided to wait for me.” He tugged at Wesley’s chest harness, then brushed his fingers against his stomach.

Wesley held his breath in anticipation.

Connor wiggled the tips of his fingers beneath the waistband of Wesley’s briefs. The leather creaked and stretched. The digits made their way lower, until they brushed against Wesley’s cock.

“Oh, yes. You were definitely hoping for something else.” Beneath the fabric, Connor circled the slit with his finger. “That is, if this hard cock of yours is any indication.”