He shrugs. “That’s an easy one. I never had any intention of putting my dick in your ass anyway.”
I stare at him for a long moment, my eyes blinking slowly as I struggle to make sense of the words that just left Jazz Grimsay’s mouth. “How does that make sense?” I finally manage to ask. “You haven’t exactly been shy about wanting to fuck me…”
“I never said I didn’twantto, I said I didn’tintendto,” he clarifies. “What we’re doing here isn’t about giving me an opportunity to fulfill my dirty fantasies. This is a BDSM arrangement and I’m your Dom. To be honest it’s actuallypretty rare for me to engage in anal sex with my subs.”
My eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“There’s way more to this than my own sexual pleasure,” he says with a shrug. “That’s actually pretty low on the list. If I want to fuck someone there are plenty of eager bottoms out there who’d be more than willing. But a Dom’s priority is making sure their sub gets what they need—which, in this case, is sexual gratification through emotional and psychological torment—and there are plenty of ways I can manage that without sticking my dick in someone.”
“Like what?” I can’t help asking, my voice coming out unexpectedly raspy.
Jazz’s lips curve in a teasing smirk. “You’re about to find out. But before we jump in I think it’d be a good idea to get some clarification on the word ‘fuck’.”
My brows creep up in surprise. “Youof all people want me to explain the word ‘fuck’?”
He lets out a soft laugh. “I’m good on the definition, I just need a little specificity.”
He steps forward and suddenly I’m caged against the bar again.
“We’ve established that you don’t want me putting my cock in your ass, but for clarification purposes it’d be really helpful if you could answer the following survey,” he says.
“It would behelpfulfor you to move your thigh away from my crotch if you want me to pay attention to this,” I groan.
Of course, that just makes him press in even harder. “I’m sure you can control yourself for thirty seconds,” he goads. “Now, apart from dick in butt sex are any of the following off-limits? A) Fucking you with my fingers and torturing you with prostate pleasure; B) Burying my head between your legs and tongue-fucking your hole; C) Stuffing your ass with sex toys and other insertables; D)…”—he reaches up to grab a fistful of my hair, yanking roughly—“shoving you to your knees and fucking your throat…”
Fucking hell.I let out a soft groan, but Jazz cuts me off before I can respond.
“Save your response until the end of the survey, thank you. Now… E) Anything ass-related; F) Anything cock-related; G) All of the above; or H) None of the above.”
By the time he’s done laying out all the options my whole body is trembling; I’m so fucking turned on.
“Fuck…”I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t think. How the fuck am I supposed to answer a survey when my brain isn’t working?
“I want all of it,” I rasp out. “Everything.Want to be used and degraded and treated like a cheap, dirty whore.” I’m shamelessly grinding my dick against his thigh now and I couldn’t care less.
“Youarea cheap, dirty whore,” he snarls in my ear. Then his grip tightens in my hair again and I feel myself being urged downwards. “On your knees, little bitch.”
The command sends heat surging through me, along with a dizzying rush that is both thrilling and horrifying; it’s like I’m about to ride one of those insane roller-coasters that leave you hanging upside down in mid-air for what feels like an hour.
I drop to my knees without hesitation; it’s not a conscious decision, it’s just…instinct, I guess. The next thing I know, I’m struggling to breathe as Jazz shoves my face into his crotch. His fiercegrip of my hair holds me in place as he grinds his erection against me, using my face the same way I was using his thigh just a few moments ago.
I vaguely recall him promising to demonstrate a situation where I wouldn’t be able to speak and showing me what to do if I didn’t like it. Three quick jabs and this will stop.
But I’m not going to do it; because I don’t want this to stop. It’s so fuckingwrong.So degrading. But I’m loving every second. I can barely breathe but that doesn’t stop me groaning wildly.
Way too soon, my head is yanked away, prompting me to let out a whimper of disappointment.
“I know it’s probably hard for someone as gross as you to imagine, but most of us prefernotto cum in our jeans,” Jazz says with a soft laugh. “But don’t worry, dirty boy. If you’re that keen to rub your face in my junk I’m more than happy to oblige.”
He unzipsand shoves the front of his jeans down. And I have all of a microsecond to take in the hard, throbbingbonerright infront of my eyes before Jazz once again takes a fierce grip of my hair and shoves my face into his crotch.
Jesus Christ.Why the fuck is it so much hotter this time? It’s so gross. But I guess gross is my thing now, isn’t it?
“Mmm…I bet my sweaty balls smell good,” Jazz goads. “I haven’t showered since this morning so it might just be manky enough for you down there…”
I respond with a groan that borders on animalistic, eagerly grinding my face against him even as his grip loosens slightly. It definitelydoesn’t smellgood, but it’s fucking intoxicating and I can’t seem to get enough.
Unfortunately, I’m not the one calling the shots here so I once again have my head yanked back before I’m ready.
