Page 101 of Their Ruthless Sadist

The pretty boy’s jaw clenched, the muscle flexing as he held back while I impaled him again and again. I allowed the pace to quicken, the thrusts to become more forceful until I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. I fucked him hard, driving him into the mattress as I angled my hips for the best penetration. Sweat coated my skin as my orgasm neared, but I still held out. It wasn’t until I curled my arms behind his knees and held him firmly beneath me that I let loose. He took every punishing thrust, grunting, groaning, his eyes pleading for me to send him over the edge.

“I’m gonna come in your ass, pretty boy,” I growled, my mouth close to his. “And when I do, you’re gonna thank me for it.”

“Yes … Zeke.” His breaths sawed in and out of his lungs, our hearts pounding in time with the driving force of my hips.

When my release barreled down on me, I impaled him one last time, keeping my eyes locked with his as my cock pulsed deep inside him. A dull roar escaped me, but he took every drop before he fisted his cock and came all over his chest. I watched, mesmerized by the sight.

I wasn’t sure what made me do it, but I released his legs, then leaned down and licked the cum from his chest. The pretty boy inhaled sharply, his hands suddenly on my shoulders. He wasn’t pushing me away, and it sent a chill down my spine.

“Thank you, Zeke,” he whispered hoarsely.

I lifted my head one last time, wondering what the hell was coming over me. Although I knew I was moving in a very dangerous direction with these two, I couldn’t seem to help myself.

Weak, unsteady legs carried me off the bed and into the bathroom. I cleaned myself up, refusing to look at the man in the mirror. I didn’t want to see what was in his eyes. The pep talk from earlier had done absolutely no good, and quite frankly, I wasn’t sure what the hell I was supposed to do about it now.

Man up, an inner voice said.

Good advice. Except that could be taken in more than one way.

The question I had was, which direction did I go? And how long before I fucked it all up?

Because that, I knew, was inevitable.

Brax (the cowboy)

Monday, October 22

My eyes flew open on Monday morning. The room was dark. The whisper of deep breathing sounded all around me. Tank was curled up beside me, his doggy snores soft and even.

I was lying in Zeke’s bed, where I had slept since I had donned the dog paraphernalia on Friday night. My brain obviously registered that my punishment was over, which explained why I had jarred myself awake so quickly. I was so done with this mask and these paws. Of course, my punishment wasn’t over until Zeke removed these things from my body, and I would’ve been lying if I said I wasn’t eager for that to happen. The damn leather head mask caused me to sweat profusely, and I desperately wanted a shower.

I cut my gaze across the semi-dark room and found the big man asleep on his back. That was his normal position. Flat on his back, hands at his sides. Mostly. Once or twice, Zeke’s hand had ended up on my arm or my chest when he slept. I’d woken the first time, surprised by his touch. I hadn’t been sure he’d meant to do it, but it was oddly settling to have him casually touching me.

Right now, though, he wasn’t touching me, and I wished that he was. It was odd to see him so peaceful, but I’d actually admired him yesterday morning for a bit before he opened his eyes and caught me looking.

Since he wasn’t moving and he wasn’t talking, I assumed he was still out, so I allowed my gaze to rake over him. The tattoos that covered his neck, chest, and arms captivated me as they always did. I could spend hours looking at them. While Case only had the one dragon tattoo covering his back and curling over his shoulder and onto his chest, Zeke had many. Various things: a skull, an eight-ball, a hammer, a flower, just to name a few. They were random yet somehow made me believe I was getting a glimpse at more of the man. The overall design was unique. Like him.

“You’re staring at me,” his deep voice rumbled from beside me.

His eyes were still closed, so I smiled to myself. I had hated every second of being his pet, but now that it was over, I couldn’t find it in me to hold it against him. I only hoped we would be taking a step forward and not back. I had taken my punishment like a man, following every order and not trying to get away with anything. I figured that was the only way to please him, so I had obeyed.

Zeke yawned, then stretched before his eyes opened, and he turned his head toward me. “Time for a shower, cowboy. You, me, and the pretty boy.”

My heart hammered in my chest. Having watched the two of them in the shower last night, I had dreamed about being part of it. Zeke inviting me to join them, his hands, his mouth, all doing wicked things to me while we cleaned up.

“Yes, Zeke,” I said, my voice rough from disuse. “I’ll turn the water on.”

He nodded before sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

Wanting to be there before him, I scrambled off the bed. My knees ached from having spent two days on them, but I ignored the pain. I was upright now, and that was all that mattered.

Zeke joined me a minute later, finally removing the various pieces of the costume from my body. The relief was instant, not having the leather mask over my head or the gloves on my hands. The only thing that remained was my collar, which, oddly enough, wasn’t part of the costume.

“Brush your teeth,” Zeke instructed before he carried the stuff out of the bathroom.

I hurried to the second sink, which Case and I had been using when Zeke allowed us into this bathroom. I quickly went to work, the minty toothpaste like ambrosia. Not only had I not been allowed to shower, I hadn’t been allowed to brush my teeth, either. I remembered those weekends when I was a kid. Attempting to get away with not bathing or brushing my teeth because it was a pain in the ass, and the only thing I wanted to do was play.

I was no longer that kid. Hygiene was important, and I was salivating at the thought of a shower.