“You want that cum?”
More spit is spread in tandem with my stomach knotting.
“You want Master’s cum all over your fucking face?”
I maniacally nod.
Huff.
Damn near hump the floor.
“Suck,” he instructs, stroking transitioning to a haphazard form.“Suck.Hard.” Closing my mouth around both balls at once to complete the command results in his forehead falling forward and growls pouring themselves out past his gritted teeth.“Good boy.” Sudden twitches against my tongue precede salty surges pitilessly plummeting onto my face.“Such a good fucking boy…” Them falling like tears running down my cheeks is abruptly ended by him unexpectedly cupping my cheek and rumbling words I would do anything to hear for the rest of my life.“My.Good.Boy.”
Chapter 15
Garcia
I am not a golf fan.
I never have been.
I never will be.
I just understand that it’s where business is done.
Particularly out of the courtroom.
At least I don’t have to be out on the actual course this time.
The driving range is more than enough for me.
Archibold Marshall-Green, the arrogant, overly tanned, pencil pusher clearly assigned to the contract but not the one in charge ofphysicallyexecuting it, plants his club in the space between his feet to lean on it for a theatrical effect.“You want me tocancelthe assignment?”
Positioning myself behind the tee is attached to my one-word response.“Correct.”
“However,youare not the signatory.”
My shoulders are given a small wiggle to aid in loosening up.“Correct.”
“Is this…some sort of joke?”
“No.”
“Prank?”
“No,” escapes in tandem with me lining up the shot.
“Test?”
“No.”
His scoff is riddled with bewilderment and annoyance alike, “Then what the hell is it?”
“A counter.”
“I am not in the business of reneging on one contract for another.”
Expelling a long, deep breath precedes me taking a harsh swing at the tiny blue ball.
