Page 35 of If Cain Were Able

“Disgusted,” I reply.

“Quite the double standard, don’t you think? After all, you weren’t exactly celibate in our time apart, either.”

“I was with two people, Cain! Not ninety-two. And I sure as fuck didn’t use anything with them that I’d bought with you.”

“Neither have I, Kitten.”

Chapter 21

Cain

The look on Patrick’s face as he processes my words is priceless.

“You mean…” he trails off, wanting to hear me say it. It’s going to be a long, painful night for him, so I give him this one thing.

“That these straps have never touched anyone’s skin but yours? Yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”

Without another word, Patrick lies back down, arms overhead, and each of his feet pointing toward a corner of my bedframe.

He’s splayed out like a sacrifice.

A willing sacrifice.

After tying each of his extremities to a corner, I straddle his hips and thrust my cock along his.

He shudders and his abs contract. The hitch in his breathing tells me just how close he is.

Yeah, this one’s gonna hurt.

Needing his pending orgasm to abate just a little, I land a swift upstroke to Patrick’s balls, but instead of having the desired effect, he spreads his legs wider and moans, “Do it again.”

“And have you come so soon? I don’t think so.”

I crawl up his body on my knees until I’m straddling his face, feeding him my cock as I grip the headboard. Patrick tilts his head back so he can swallow me more easily, but the angle still isn’t right to let me in as deeply as I want to go, so I remove his pillow.

This time, when I punch my hips forward, I feel his throat spasm and hear him gag.

Tears leak from the corners of his eyes, but he trusts me to fuck his throat without suffocating him.

Or maybe he wishes I would suffocate him.

I arrive at the edge of my orgasm faster than I would like, but I’ll have plenty of time to recover while I’m torturing Patrick. I grip his hair in my fist.

“I’m gonna come, Kitten. Are you ready?”

I feel his throat tighten like he’s trying to make a sound, except in order to make noise, you have to be able to exhale…and he can’t.

But his eyes say yes.

I know he’ll need to breathe soon, so I don’t hold back as I come down the back of his throat. Pulling out as soon as the last pulse of my cock abates, I slide the pillow back underneath his head so he doesn’t aspirate on cum. I’d hate to have to explain that to the emergency room.

Patrick’s chest is heaving with deep breaths, but there is no fear or anger in his eyes.

“The only problem when you do that,” he pants, “is that your cum never hits my taste buds. I swallow you down without ever tasting a drop.”

Gripping his jaw, I force his mouth open and place the tip of my softening cock between his lips, allowing him to lick me clean.

Once my sensitive dick has had enough, I scoot down Patrick’s body, lube my hands, and begin double-fisting his dick. He drives his heels into the mattress so he can fuck up into my hands, and I press down on his lower stomach to prevent him from moving, knowing that pressure will heighten his arousal even further.