His Cocky Cellist Read online Cole McCade (Undue Arrogance #2)

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Undue Arrogance Series by Cole McCade
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
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A tingle like static ran over Vic’s entire body. He licked his lips, tongue darting against Amani’s fingertip, catching the delicate taste of his skin. “Yes, Master,” he repeated, then winced as his cock bucked up against his stomach, splattering warm wet beads of pre-cum to trickle against his skin, pulling at the base with that needful pleasure that edged on pain. The words shouldn’t taste so good, like he wanted to wrap his tongue around them and…and…

“There you are, pet. If you want more, that’s all that matters. There’s no need to be ashamed of enjoying it. Now…” Amani curled his fingers under Vic’s chin, tugging gently. “Up, sweet boy.”

Vic rose obediently, even if his thighs felt like liquid, his cock making it painful to move. Even standing, even looking down at Amani from almost a foot’s difference in height, there was no question of who was in control here—and Vic felt almost hypnotized as he let Amani draw him onto the bed, sinking down at his side close enough to feel the radiant warmth of his body heat.

“I want you to listen to me,” Amani said. “You are not to touch me. Only to listen. Do you understand?”

Vic nodded—but Amani only looked at him in expectant silence, until Vic swallowed, mouth dry, and said “…yes, Master.”

“Good.”

His reward was the softest brush of Amani’s lips, and when Amani leaned back Vic caught himself leaning after him, reaching for him, only to stop himself, curling his fists and pressing them hard against the duvet and rigidly holding his seat.

“The first thing I need from you,” Amani said, “is to let go of your arrogance. The masculine ego is the antithesis of true submission.”

Vic half-smiled. “So you want me humble and mewling and degraded?”

“No,” Amani replied, watching Vic intently. “I want you free of the notion that your masculine pride defines who you are. There is nothing degrading about willing submission. If anything, when you find that place inside yourself…” He shook his head, exhaling a rough breath. “If it’s right for you, it’s the most pure thing you can ever feel. But to find it, you must trust me enough to relinquish control. That trust is a gift, one you can revoke any time…but it requires abandoning every toxic, cruel, hateful idea that arrogance, pride, and control are what define you as a man.”

Vic didn’t answer at first, just…turning that over. He wasn’t sure what part of himself, suddenly, was real and what parts he’d adopted to fit the role he occupied, those cutting looks and the way he’d made the Board members shrink back and defer to him and the authority he projected based on…what?

Did he even know what power and control were, when for all that he’d built himself into this masculine ideal on the surface to be able to control his company…this femme, soft, beautiful thing with his gentle touches and coaxing words could bring Victor to heel with a single glance from under luxuriant lashes?

“I don’t know how to do that,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t know if I know what it means.”

“You’ll learn,” Amani promised softly, then slid to his feet, skin and linen hissing against the duvet in sibilant whispers. Splayed fingers pressed against Vic’s chest, pushing him back. “Lie back, sweet boy. Arms over your head, crossed at the wrists.”

Vic shifted back further onto the bed, letting that coaxing hand guide him as he stretched himself out. He felt like he was putting himself on display, sprawled out naked with his cock resting hard against his lower abdomen, his arms lifting over his head. He crossed one over the other at the wrists, curling his fingers against his palms.

“Like this?”

“Exactly like that.” And there was no missing the heat sparking in Amani’s eyes, something kindling and devouring in the way his gaze drifted over Vic’s body. “You really are beautiful like this.”

Vic smiled a bit shakily. “Is it normal to call men beautiful?”

“It should be. You can start to learn by letting go of the idea that it’s not.” Amani braced one knee to the bed between Vic’s legs, bending over him, hands falling to either side of his shoulders, that lustrous fall of dark hair tumbling down to trail over Vic’s chest and shoulders, cool enough to almost burn when his skin felt like fire. He hissed, arching, then made himself fall still as Amani caught his chin once more, gripping just a little harder this time, just hard enough to make Vic’s core draw up tight as that sultry voice washed over him, mesmerizing, commanding. “You’re going to stay like this, pet. No matter what I do to you, until I tell you you’re allowed to move, you’ll keep your arms over your head like this. You can only stop if you decide you want to end this.” A slow smile curved Amani’s lips as he traced a thumbnail along Vic’s lower lip. “And you won’t come until I tell you you can come.”



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