And as the hot water blasts over my shoulders, my strong pecs, and my stomach, I feel my cock twitch with excitement.
I waste no time and grip it at the base and squeeze, pulsing it slowly but surely.
With my other hand, I take my balls and pull down firmly but slowly.
My cock hardens and I squirt a generous dollop of minty shower gel over my shaft for a little added lubrication. Before I know it, I’m working the full eight inches with a rhythmic grip as my thighs tighten and my ass cheeks clench.
With my eyes shut, all I can see are smartly dressed office boys with their briefs around their ankles, their asses begging to be spanked and their cocks all hard and standing to attention for me, their master. I grunt as I mentally pick out the boy for me.
I’m working my dick harder now, my mind racing into the fantasy of the sassy, back-talking boy who won’t do as his Daddytells him. He’s over my lap now, his cock hard against my thighs as I bring my hand down hard on his perfectly round, pale cheeks.
“Fuccccck,” I grunt, thick ropes of my seed shooting up onto the shower’s glass wall.
My abs tense along with my upper thighs and ass as I drain my cock of every last drop. This naughty boy might have been a figment of my imagination, but in that moment he felt real.
Damn.
I guess that will just have to do…
Chapter 3
Landon
“Bleurgh,” I groan. “Already?”
The city is still asleep when my eyes snap open. No alarm, just the familiar pull of routine and the quiet determination that has become my second skin.
It’s not even 5:00 a.m. yet.
The sky outside my window is the deep indigo that comes right before dawn thinks about showing up. And despite my instinctive complaint at how quickly my sleep went, I like this hour. No traffic noise, no notifications, just me and the work that needs to be done.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I mutter to myself, now over the shock of waking.
I pad across the cool hardwood floor in my oversized sleep shirt, flick on the small desk lamp, and settle into my chair.
The laptop hums to life.
Next to it sits Claw, propped against a stack of highlighters so he can watch me study. His little black button eyes look encouraging in the soft light. I give his paw a quick squeeze forluck, then reach into the mini fridge for the glass of orange-carrot-ginger juice I blended last night.
“Wowzers,” I say, my eyes almost watering as the sharp tang wakes up my senses immediately. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Today’s mission: conquer the mountain of case law on merger regulations and antitrust implications that Professor Grover dumped on us last week. If I want to graduate top of the class—and I definitelydowant that—there’s no room for half-measures.
EveryAmatters.
Every perfect score is another brick in the wall I’m building to prove to my father that his investment in me wasn’t wasted, that I can be the legal shield the Galkin family needs in this new, cleaner era he’s carving out.
I open my annotated PDF ofUnited States v. Soft Tech Corp.and dive in, pen scratching notes in the margins of my legal pad. The words blur together after a while—market power, predatory pricing, barriers to entry—but I keep pushing.
This is what I was raised for.
Not guns or territory or blood feuds.
Documents. Contracts. Loopholes. Power disguised as paper, and exactly what my father always spoke about when he gradually let me into his life. Well, as much as I’m ever going to get.
Half an hour passes.
Maybe forty minutes.
