Bastard's Bride (Loftry University Playthings 4)

I close the app, a wide grin on my face. Since she works directly for the dean, she might actually know about the cameras in the room, but there’s a chance she doesn’t. Either way, I’ll be watching my little rabbit as she touches herself. If she does know about the cameras, maybe she’ll even give me a little show?

By the time I reach my house, my dick is rock hard. Luckily, I have enough time to take a shower and take care of business before meeting with the quack. These sessions are bullshit, but now that I want to claim one of their submissives, I want to at least look like I’m playing ball.

The hot water slams into my tight muscles, and I groan in relief as the knots start to loosen. I can tell it’s been far too long since I’ve been able to really be out there on the field. Things that didn’t use to hurt are now screaming at me, and since I’m only twenty-two, it can’t be old age.

Once I let my muscles relax, I palm my erection, groaning as I slide my hand up and down. Today has been a test of my resolve. Until I have Shelaine here to see to all my sexual needs, I’ll probably be jerking off far more than usual. Reaching over, I grab the bottle of silicone lube I keep in the shower for just such occasions and squeeze a small amount into my palm.

Closing my eyes, I picture Shelaine’s face in my mind - her full, pouty mouth, the quiver of her bottom lip as I drew out her humiliation. God, even the feel of stuffing my cum into her pussy. Everything about her is everything that I crave. She’s the only one that’s made me feel anything other than contempt or disgust. Her eyes looked at me with such need, such arousal.

She wanted me.

As much as I hate thinking about Ryker and her in the same span of time, it’s impossible to cut him out completely. He was what I considered sex to be. The pain, the degradation, the humiliation. Fucking me, then shoving me to the side, ignoring me as I wrapped my arms around myself in a pathetic attempt to shove my broken heart and body back together.

But it didn’t work. I even tried squeezing harder, until I was sure my ribs were about to crack, but it never healed the wound that refused to close. With each act, he broke off yet another shard, causing the hole to grow until there was nothing left in me but a gaping need to be filled.

Parker and Lana helped. They quieted the demons while we played together, but they didn’t help fill the emptiness. They couldn’t. They had each other, leaving me alone and unloved. I didn’t care what they said; there was no way there would be room in their lives for me.

It was easier to just slip out on my own terms instead of being shoved out. They never said as much, but they didn’t have to. Who would want me, a monster, in their lives forever? With Shelaine, it’s far more cut and dry. As a submissive, her ability to reject me isn’t as easy.

True, the system isn’t infallible. For whatever reason, they allow the submissives to leave a claim, and I think it’s bullshit. Anyone can tout abuse and just walk out. But how can they prove that? With what we do, it’s so easily misconstrued. The only thing I can think of as proof is if the Dominant in question goes against a hard limit.

And that’s why I’m going to play by their rules. Give her no ability to be able to walk away until she’s my bride. That’s why I need to tie her to me further. I don’t know her well enough to have any means of obvious blackmail, but I know one thing that will scare her enough to stay by my side.

No one ever leaves Malum unscathed. Even if they didn’t harm her physically, there’s still a taint that coats the soul. She’s probably still frightened of the place. And since Daddy-o owns it, I have the perfect means of threatening her until I get what I want.

I hope it doesn’t come down to that. I so desperately want her to say yes, to choose me because she wants me, but if not, I’ll still have Malum in my back pocket. Backups and counter backups. This isn’t how love is supposed to be, but then, I’ll never promise her love.

The most I can give her is my body and my protection. It will have to be good enough. If not, at least my dick will give her something she wants. For the first time, I’m truly grateful for my skill. It will help tie Shelaine to me.

Forcing all the bad out of my brain, I instead concentrate on Shelaine, imagining taking both of her holes. I’ll do it nicely. I won’t treat her like Ryker did me. I’ll coax her into opening for me, keeping things gentle and soft until I’m inside, and then, once she’s out of her mind with arousal, I’ll pound into her, taking her back hole as my own.

My balls tighten as precum wells to the slit of my shaft. Soon, Shelaine will be on her knees in front of me, her pretty little tongue lapping at my head as she takes everything I have to give her. Will she sigh and moan as the flavor of my cum hits her taste buds? Will she pull away in revulsion? Forcing me to grip her head and hold her still as I force my way past those perfect rows of teeth?

God, but I hope she fights me. I want her to struggle. I want her to make me feel like I have to work for it, to earn it. She’s so pristine, so perfect. I want to pull her down off that pedestal of hers and fuck her in the mud. I want the teeth, the clawing, the pushing, and the shoving. I want it to be a battle, but one that I know I’ll win.

Grunting, I grip my balls but imagine it’s Shelaine holding them as her mouth works me over. My harsh breath bounces around the shower, nearly drowned out by the rushing water. Pulling my hand up my shaft, I rub the head for a moment or two, groaning as tingles flow down my spine before sliding back down to my base to grip it.

I angle my hips toward the wall and begin stroking up and down, handling my cock in rough, forceful movements. With a groan, I rest my other arm against the wall and lay my head against it, grunting with each firm stroke. I watch my hand flying over my cock and question whether or not I should have just made Shelaine see to my needs instead.

Soon.

So very soon.

My little rabbit is still skittish, still unsure of the hold I have over her, but in a week, there will no longer be a doubt in her mind. Her body will respond to me, seek me out. And I will take her. Hard. As hard as I’m fucking my own hand. Harder even, until I’m fucking her down into the mattress.

She’ll try to protest, she’ll try to cry out, but I’ll urge her to be quiet, silencing her with my soft kisses and practiced words. My cum will fill her up until every move she makes causes just a little bit more to drip from her body. It will be a marker, a warning, a threat for everyone else to back the fuck up.

And I won’t rest until both of her holes drip with my cum every damned day.

With an exultant shout, my cock jerks in my hand as cum jettisons out and splashes on the wall in front of me. My movements shift a bit as I gently coax the rest of it to pour out of me until the remainder just dribbles onto the shower floor and washes down the drain.

It takes the edge off but doesn’t satisfy me completely. As I stare at the cum sliding down the wall, a very feral need settles in my body and doesn’t let go. My cum doesn't belong here. It doesn’t belong down the drain. It belongs inside Shelaine. Whether it’s her stomach, pussy, or ass, it will no longer spill out of me and go wasted down the drain.

From now on, any time I come, it will be in or on Shelaine, and that’s a promise. Pulling the shower head down, I rinse off the white, sticky fluid and stare at it as it clumps and slides down the drain. Next, I wash and step out. I need to get my head back on straight before seeing the shrink. The orgasm helped, but it left me feeling buzzy and incomplete.

Pulling on a shirt and some pants, I opt to go commando. Shelaine plans on getting off tonight, and I plan to be there with her, drenching her with my cum. All I have to do is get through this bullshit session and wait.