“Is this why you didn’t call?” he bites out. “Too busy fantasizing about Sloane Pierce?”
“N-no,” I say. It’s not a lie. Iwasn’tthinking about him like… that.
But Robbie’s insinuation spurs thoughts I shouldn’t think. I find myself wondering if Robbie was like this with him.
If he showed up to Sloane’s house and backed him against the couch. I have a hard time imagining anyone backing Sloane into anything, but I can’t envisionanyonetelling Robbie what to do, either.
Robbie lets out a heavy breath as my dick bounces free.
“Liar,” he says. My hands shake against his chest.
But I don’t push him away. I can’t. All I can do is remain still, waiting for him to make his point, even though I know what it is.
“Robbie…" I say as his hand slips between us. The echo of his unlatched belt sounds in the air between us and barely ten seconds later I feel his cock sliding against mine.
“Do you understand that you’renothis to command?” Robbie’s gaze fixes on me as one hand tightens around my throat. The other wraps itself around our dicks. He squeezes hard and I wince.
“I thought that was what you w-wanted,” I say. “We want him towantto command me, right?”
Robbie lets out a grunt.
“You do what I tell you to do,” he says. “If I call, you pick up the fucking phone, Oliver. If I say be at my place at five pm, you show up at five fucking pm.”
I’m caught between panic and lust. Between desire and shame. Tears pool in my eyes because I feel so overwhelmed with guilt. I’ve pissed him off.
Shit.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice shaking.
I’m powerless to move with his weight against me.
“Not sorry enough,” he says as I swallow hard.
“Do you understand me, Oliver?” he says.
I nod, unable to formulate words.
“Good. Now I’m going to remind you exactly who you listen to.”
He spits into his hand, my breath caught in my throat as he coats his dick with it.
“Turn over,” he orders, and I have half a mind to tell him no. To push him and run for my bedroom and lock the damn door.
He’s drunk, and he’s pissed, and he wants to punish me.
But the depraved part of me, the one only he knows, rises from its depths and meets his viciousness with a wickedness of its own.
I do as he asks wordlessly, bracing myself for what I know is coming.
The pain. The guilt, the shame, the ache.
I close my eyes as I feel his cock breach my seam. My jaw tenses and I suck in a breath as he pushes in. Hard. I grit my teeth as he slams into me, and I feel it in every bone in my body.
“This ass ismine,” he growls with a hard thrust. I can’t help but wince, a soft whimper escaping me.
The sensation is painful, but there’s also a sense of relief. Of strange contentment because of his words.
“I own you,” he says with another hard thrust. My cock throbs, aching for release. I dig my fingernails into the upholstery of my sofa, knowing better than to touch myself.
