Page 26 of The Boss's Christmas
“Your begging is such a sweet sound to my ears, pet.” Sloan smirked and kissed his brow. “But I need more than that.”
“What more do you need?” Conall spread his legs farther, cupping Sloan between his knees. “I’ll fucking sing if you want me to. I can’t promise I won’t shatter some mirrors, but I’d do it.”
Sloan let the cursing go, this time. “I don’t need you to sing, pet, I need you to tell me what I want to hear.”
Conall stared at him with those dark, stormy blue eyes, the turmoil of pleasure and need lighting them up like a lightning storm dancing across gray clouds. Beautiful, but dangerous. He curled his arms around Sloan’s neck and bucked his hips up, rubbing their clothed cocks together. “I’m yours in every. Single. Way.”
Sloan’s smirk softened into a smile. “Keep going.”
Conall tapped the scar on his chest, where Toscani had driven a knife into. “This is my mark of loyalty to you. I’d die before I’d let a secret slip.”
Sloan didn’t think his cock could get any firmer, but when it jerked and hardened farther, it actually hurt. He swallowed, his fingers twitching.
“Please, sir. Sloan. Boss.” Conall leaned up and darted his tongue out to lick Sloan’s lips. “Give your pet what he needs. Fuck me until I feel it into next week. Give me release that I only ever want from you.”
Sloan’s heart flipped and if his cock hadn’t been hard and needy, he might have worried what that meant because love… well, love was bullshit. “What else, pet?” He brushed Conall’s dark hair off his face. “Tell me what I want to hear.”
Conall’s face relaxed from the strong determination on it and his mouth curved. “I’m sorry, Sloan. I’m sorry I kept my gob shut when I should have talked to you. I’m sorry I’m an arsehole sometimes.”
Hooking his fingers beneath the waistband of Conall’s briefs, he tugged them down Conall’s long legs and threw them on the floor. His own underwear went next before he grabbed the lube they’d dumped on the bed earlier and sat back on his knees. He flipped open the lid and squeezed a blob in his palm. “And?”
Conall chuckled and his hungry gaze zeroed in on Sloan’s hand as he wrapped it around his cock, jerking himself off slowly. “And I will forever be your pet as long as you’d have me and—” He gasped when Sloan spread Conall’s legs and inserted his forefinger in Conall’s arsehole.
“Pet, keep going. I want to hear it all.” He didn’t keep only one finger in there for long, with a second and third soon joining the first. They’d had sex enough times over the last six months that Conall didn’t need as much preparation as the first time, when his hole was a virgin drilled by Sloan’s wide cock.
“Ilovebeing your pet, even if I pretend I don’t sometim—holy shit, oh my fucking God.”
Sloan slapped Conall’s inner thigh hard enough to leave a blushing handprint. “Language!”
“Sorry. Sorry, sir.” Conall threw his head back, his nipple ring glinting under the hanging pendant lights of the bedroom. “Oh Christ, that’s good. You make me feel so good. So good. You’re going to kill me, Sloan.”
Sloan laughed quietly and withdrew his fingers. He slathered up his cock and grabbed Conall’s knees, pushing them to his chest. His arsehole clenched, and Sloan licked his lips. Should he fuck Conall, or eat him out? The decision wasn’t an easy one, but finally he decided to fuck him first. He could always eat that hole later, when Conall thought he had recovery time. His plan was to bring Conall to the brink of exhaustion, to make him come so many times that Conall may not even remember his name after it all.
“Talk to me, pet. What will you give me for putting you in charge of the brothels?” Sloan rocked his hips forward and the head of his cock slowly spread Conall’s asshole apart. Sloan loved this part, seeing his pet’s body accept him and suck him in as though he’d always be welcomed.
“Anything. Anything you want. My submission, my—Jesus, you’re big, sir. So big. I’ll submit to anything you want. Anything.” A whimper escaped his mouth and Conall pressed his lips together. He always hated when he made that sound. He once told Sloan that it made him sound like one of the whores, while Sloan told him hewasa whore—Sloan’s whore.
“Anything?” Sloan grinned when he bottomed out in Conall, his balls flush against Conall’s arse. “Did you say anything, pet?”
Conall’s toes curled and he wrapped one arm around the back of his knees, keeping his legs pressed against his chest. “Anything, sir.”
“Never leave me, pet. Never.” Sloan leaned against the back of Conall’s legs and kissed Conall’s delectable mouth. “No matter who tries to take you away, you belong to me. Always.”
Conall’s eyes slid open and he stared at Sloan with an intense look that made Sloan’s balls heavy. “You don’t have to worry about that. Remember when I said I wasn’t Walmart, that I wasn’t open twenty-four seven, sir?”
“Mm.” Sloan grinned at the memory. “Yes, I remember that. It was the first day I met you.”
“Well, I’ll stay open twenty-four seven for you. Only you.” Conall smiled wickedly.
Sloan slapped Conall’s arsecheek and his pet hissed. “Good, because I’ll never get tired of you, pet. Never. Now hold on to something.”
Conall reached up behind himself and clasped the wooden headboard of the bed as Sloan began fucking into him. His pace was fast and brutal, his cock spearing into Conall and drilling him wide with his girth. He fucked into Conall with passion and need, and maybe something else he wasn’t willing to admit yet. But Conall bent to his will, both physically and mentally. He let Sloan dominate him and he followed every order Sloan gave him.
Hold on. Touch yourself. Get off.
Conall did all of those things. With his hand wrapped around his cock, he moaned and whimpered. “Please.”
Sloan held onto Conall’s legs so tightly that his fingernails left crescent marks in Conall’s skin. “Come for me, pet. Show me how much I turn you on.”
