Chapter 2
Three weeks later
Slap!
My ass cheek smarted as my target’s hand connected with my butt for the third time that night. I was perched over his knees, facedown, the way he had positioned me as soon as he’d ushered me into the most opulent bedroom I’d ever been into.
Opulent: costly and luxurious.
Curse Sully for the Word of the Day app he’d installed on my phone to broaden my vocabulary. Now was hardly the time to test my memory skills. Not when my dress was rucked up to my waist and my bare ass was on full display in the sexy, barely there red thong Sully had picked out for me to wear tonight. The more I got to know him, the more I became convinced he was a masochist. Who else would choose sexy lingerie for their boyfriend to wear to seduce another man?
Masochist: something something about pleasure and humiliation.
“Goddamn, look at that sexy peach of an ass!”
Sly Palmer fondled my bottom and shoved the material covering my crack out of the way, and I pretended a lustful moan as he bared my butthole to his gaze.
Where the fuck are you, Sully?
When I’d asked Sully who this man was and why we were taking him out, he had answered by fucking me. Stupid enough for me not to ask anymore questions. I’d walked around all day like a damn starfish, looking like an idiot with the stupidest grin on my face. But I didn’t care. I’d bagged me a man like Sully who fucked like a god. The man didn’t have a selfish bone in his body in the bedroom, and he’d learned my little secret—that I couldn’t resist him when he nudged my hole with his cockhead.
I’d have promised to birth his babies if that was what he wanted.
“Well, that pretty hole looks like it already took a pounding today.” Palmer sounded disappointed, and I swallowed hard. Sully was supposed to have gotten here already. What was he waiting for? “Did you get fucked, boy?”
“No, sir,” I said in the wimpiest voice I could muster. “But I played with my toy.”
And his name was Sullivan Matthews. I still wasn’t convinced that I couldn’t make a fortune out of selling molds of his cock one day. Spreading the love and all that jizz.
“Next time, don’t come to me with your ass all used up already. Now I’m going to have to punish you some more for it.”
“Okay, sir.”
He slapped me twice more. Hard hits that made me clench my teeth. The piece of shit hadn’t even given me a safeword. Maybe Sully wanted to kill him for that. For having rough, unsafe sex with boys without giving them a safeword.
At the ridiculous thought, a giggle escaped from my lips. The next blow didn’t come.
“You find this funny?” Palmer demanded, his voice hard. He yanked me up from his thighs, not giving me time to respond, and he smacked me. An honest-to-goodness wallop across the cheek that sent me reeling to the floor.
“You’re not laughing now, are you?”
Palmer’s face had turned red, and I swallowed hard. Big mistake. I should never have giggled. When we met at tonight’s party, I’d pegged him for a man with a fragile ego. I’d played the part well of complimenting him and sending him an open invitation with my body language. During the evening, he’d whispered for me to stay behind after everyone left.
That stupid giggle had ruined everything.
He dug the fingers of his right hand into my hair and pulled. I gasped and scrambled to my feet, not sure what upset me more—him ruining the hairstyle I’d spent a long time perfecting for his party today or that he was manhandling me.
I was no longer used to men treating me like a piece of meat they had the right to stab their fork into.
Being Sullivan Matthew’s boy meant I got respect I’d never had since being on my own.
“Sir, please,” I whimpered. “You’re hurting me.”
“Good. You need to—”
The bedroom door flew open, hitting the wall with a loud crash. Even though I should have expected it, I jumped. Sully bulldozed his way into the room, wielding a weapon.
My throat went dry. I really hated guns, but Sully and Liam had hammered it into my head that they were a necessary evil.