Connor began to move his hips faster now, fucking my mouth with controlled, shallow thrusts. “Look at me,” he commanded.
I raised my eyes to meet his, maintaining eye contact as he slid in and out of my mouth. The intensity of his gaze was almost too much to bear—there was heat there, yes, but also something deeper. Something primal and possessive and…safe.
“You’re beautiful like this,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “On your knees, taking my cock so well.” His thumb traced my stretched lips, running through the saliva gathering there. “No more games, no more masks. Just you and me.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, not from discomfort but from the overwhelming emotion of the moment. I’d never felt so seen, so understood. All my life, I’d been hiding behind a carefully constructed persona. I was the cocky rich kid, the rebellious son, the shameless flirt. But here, on my knees for Connor, all of that fell away. I was just Ryder, raw and real and wanting.
His breathing grew more ragged as I worked him with renewed determination. I could feel him swelling on my tongue, the subtle change in his rhythm telling me he was getting close.
“I’m going to cum,” he warned, his fingers tightening in my hair. “And you’re going to swallow every drop. Understand?”
I nodded as best I could with my mouth full, eager to taste him, to please him. His hips jerked forward, pushing deeper as his control began to fray.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his whole body tensing. “Take it, Ryder. Take my fucking load.”
He came with a deep, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine. Hot pulses filled my mouth, and I swallowed eagerly, gulping down his salty sweet seed.
I kept sucking until he was completely spent, cherishing every drop as it coated my tongue. Connor’s hand gently gripped my hair, caressing rather than pulling now, and I leaned into his touch like a cat being petted. When he finally pulled out, his cock still half-hard and glistening with my saliva, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride. I’d made him feel good. I’d pleased him.
“Such a good boy,” he murmured, tucking himself back into his jeans but leaving them unbuttoned. “You took my cock so well.”
I smiled up at him, my lips feeling swollen and used in the best possible way. My own cock was throbbing painfully, desperate for relief, but I didn’t dare ask. This wasn’t about me. At least not yet.
Connor knelt in front of me, his large hands cupping my face. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” I whispered, my voice slightly raspy. “Really good.”
He smiled, a warm, genuine expression that made my heart flutter. Then his gaze dropped to my straining erection, the head dark and leaking against my stomach, the silver ring glinting in the fading light.
“Look at you,” he said softly. “So hard for me.” His finger traced the underside of my cock, making me gasp. “Do you want to cum, Ryder?”
“Please,” I nodded, unable to stop myself from thrusting slightly into the air, seeking more of his touch. “Please, sir.”
Connor’s eyes darkened at the honorific. He reached behind me and grabbed the belt around my wrists, helping me to my feet.
“Kick those off,” he said, nodding at my jeans and underwear still pooled around my ankles.
I obeyed, toeing off my boots and stepping out of the rest of my clothes until I stood naked from the waist down, my shirt still on but mostly unbuttoned. Connor sat on the edge of the bed and patted his thigh.
“Come here. Sit in my lap.”
I climbed onto his lap, straddling his strong thighs, my back to his chest with my hands still bound behind my back. My cock stood proudly in front of me, the ring making it swell even larger than normal. Connor wrapped one strong arm around my waist, holding me in place. The other slipped down between my legs, tracing the sensitive head of my cock.
“You’ve been so patient,” he murmured against my ear, his breath hot on my skin. “Such a good boy, waiting for permission. I think you deserve a reward.”
The first stroke of his hand nearly undid me. I leaned back against him, my head turned up toward the ceiling in a silent cry of delight.
“Connor,” I gasped, my hips jerking involuntarily. “Oh god?—”
“You don’t need to speak,” he said, his voice steady and sure as he stroked me with firm, even pressure. “I know how to take care of my good boy.”
I wasn’t used to get reciprocation, so his hand was like nothing I’d ever felt before. It was large and calloused from ranch work, but so gentle and precise in its movements. Every stroke was deliberate, designed to bring me maximum pleasure without pushing me over the edge too quickly. I couldn’t help the small whimpers that escaped my throat as he worked me, my bound hands flexing uselessly behind my back.
“That’s it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. “Let me hear you.”
I moaned louder, my head falling back against his shoulder. The vulnerability of this position—naked from the waist down, hands bound, completely at his mercy—should have frightened me. Instead, it felt like liberation. For once in my life, I didn’t have to be in control. I didn’t have to make the decisions or worry about consequences. All I had to do was feel. And enjoy.
“You’re so beautiful,” Connor murmured, his free hand sliding up under my shirt to caress my chest, pinching at my nipples. “I like it when my good boy let’s me take care of him like this.”
