Chapter 80: Lesson

Cassian only laughed, a cold, flirty sound that sent shivers down my spine. “I don’t remember giving you a choice, sweetheart.”

He pinned me harder with one arm across my back, his other hand delivering another merciless slap, crack!, that made me jolt, my whole body tingling, a fresh wave of heat flooding my groin. “Stay still, or I’ll make this last all afternoon.”

‎

“How am I supposed to stay still you piece of shit?”

“What number is this?”

“Huh?”

“Was I on the ninth slap or tenth?”

“Was I supposed to be counting?!”

“Yes. And thanking me too.”

‎Before I could protest again, I felt it, the cold drizzle of lube trickling down my crack, slick and obscene, pooling at my entrance. “What the, no, Cassian, don’t…”

But his finger was already there, circling the rim teasingly, then slipping inside with a slow, deliberate push. I moaned despite myself, the intrusion stretching me just right, his thick digit curling to brush my prostate, sending sparks of pleasure shooting up my spine. “Ah, fuck, stop!”

‎

‎But he didn’t. He added a second finger, scissoring them wide, stretching my hole with filthy, wet sounds that filled the room, the lube squelching as he pumped in and out.

“Look at you, grinding back like a desperate whore,” he teased, his voice dripping with filthy amusement. “You say stop, but your tight little ass is sucking me in. Begging for it.”

‎

‎I tried not to, god, I tried, but my hips betrayed me, rocking back shamelessly onto his fingers, the friction building that delicious pressure in my core.

“I…I’m not…” I gasped, my cock leaking steadily now, smearing against his thigh as he fingered me harder, faster, his knuckles brushing my rim with every thrust.

‎

‎ “Uh-huh.” He sounded like he was humoring a toddler.

‎The sting from the spanks mingled with the pleasure, my entrance clenching greedily around him, nipples aching as they rubbed the couch.

I was leaking everywhere, pre-cum dripping from my slit to his slacks, ass slick and sloppy from the lube, and the humiliation only made it hotter, my mind slipping into that hazy space where pride didn’t matter.

‎

‎You’re… ngh… you’re the worst, ”

‎”And you’re dripping like a faucet, baby,” he teased, crooking his fingers just right to nail my prostate. Sparks shot up my spine; my vision went fuzzy. “Grinding on my hand like you’re trying to win a rodeo.”

‎Just as the climax rushed toward me, my balls tightening, body coiling for release, Cassian pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, leaving me empty and clenching around nothing. “No, please!” I whined, trying to look back, but he pressed my head down with one large hand, pinning me firmly.

‎

‎”Stay,” he commanded, his voice heartless. I felt something cold and blunt press against my hole, the toy, that sleek black vibrating plug I’d refused earlier.

“Since you wouldn’t do it yourself…” He pushed it in slowly, the tapered tip breaching me, stretching my rim wide as it slid deeper, the curve nestling perfectly against my prostate.

I moaned, low and broken, my ass swallowing it greedily until the base sat flush against my cheeks, the fullness making my cock throb painfully.

‎

‎”If you dare take this out,” Cassian murmured, voice velvet over steel, “I’ll make sure that pretty dick never gets hard again. Understood?”

He finally let me up. I scrambled off his lap, yanking my sweatpants up with as much dignity as a guy with a plugged ass and a tented crotch could manage, which was zero.

My face was on fire, my cheeks (both sets) stinging, and I could feel the plug shift with every step like a smug little reminder.

Cassian stood, adjusting his cuffs like he hadn’t just turned my ass into a percussion instrument. “You have ten minutes. Get dressed. We’re going polo-ing with a Spanish duke or whatever.”

Five minutes later, I was being marched toward the door. I was dressed in a pair of fitted chinos and a linen shirt, but my walk was… strained. Because inside me, a small, humming piece of high-end technology was vibrating at a steady, rhythmic “Level 2.”

“I hate you,” I whispered as he pushed me toward the elevator. “I genuinely, spiritually hate you.”

“You look beautiful when you’re spiteful,” Cassian replied, checking his watch. “Now, smile. We’re going to see a very important man.”

…

The De la Vega estate was breathtaking, a sprawling Mediterranean manor surrounded by rolling hills and stables that looked cleaner than my first apartment.

I was currently trying to maintain a “professional assistant” face while a motor was literally whirring inside my body. Every time I stepped over a pebble, the vibration hit a nerve that made my toes curl.

“Ah, Cassian! You made it!”

A tall, elderly man with silver hair and the tan of someone who had never worked a day indoors approached us. Mateo de la Vega. He looked like the personification of “Old Money.”

“Mateo,” Cassian said, shaking his hand with a perfectly practiced smile. “My father sends his best. He regrets he couldn’t make the trip personally.”

“No matter, no matter! You are a far more interesting conversationalist,” Mateo laughed. His eyes drifted to me. “And who is this charming young man?”

“This is Noah, my personal assistant,” Cassian introduced me, his hand coming to rest firmly on the small of my back, right where I could feel the hum of the toy.

“A pleasure, Noah!” Mateo greeted me warmly. “You’ve arrived just in time. We were about to head to the paddock. My other guest just finished his first heat.”

“Other guest?” Cassian asked, his voice cooling by ten degrees.

“Noah? Is that you?”

I froze. I looked past Mateo toward the stables. Standing there, looking like he’d been born in a saddle, was Alex Hendrix. He was wearing pristine white riding breeches, tall leather boots, and a smirk that was visible from space.

“Alex,” I managed to say, my voice an octave higher than usual because the plug chose that exact moment to pulse.

“Noah!” Alex walked over, his eyes scanning me with that annoying, all-knowing glint. “You look… different today. A bit more ’put together’ than at the club.”

Beside me, I heard a sound come from Cassian’s throat that wasn’t human. It was a low, guttural growl.

“This damned cockroach,” Cassian hissed under his breath. “Always showing up everywhere he’s not wanted.”

I sighed, feeling the silent buzzing driving me on edge.

It was going to be a very, very long afternoon.

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