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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“Curious,” he confessed, setting the sandal aside. “Not ready. Not yet. Maybe if you give me time to work up to it.”

“If that’s what you need.” Amani toyed a few locks of his hair between his fingers, then nodded toward the table. “Check the bag.”

He didn’t want to pull away from that touch—but for the moment curiosity won out over desire. He rocked back on his heels, leaning over to flick the top of the bag open and peer inside. A clear little glass bottle of lube was tangled with a string of spherical wooden beads of descending size; something that looked like a leather bracelet dangled with several slim, buckling straps, while another contraption consisted of two thick padded leather buckling cuffs joined by a short, gleaming silver rod. He lifted it out, frowning, turning it over.

“What is this?”

Amani reached out and plucked it from his hand. “A retractable, adjustable spreader bar.” He thumbed something on the side—and the metal rod in between practically shot out, extending a good three feet in length to either side; Vic jerked back with a startled sound, while Amani smiled sweetly. “For your posture,” he lilted. “You wanted to be cuffed, didn’t you?”

“I don’t understa—o-oh. Oh.”

“‘Oh.’” Leaning closer, Amani slipped the spreader bar over Vic’s head and gently pressed it to the back of his neck, caging him, drawing him forward—so Amani could kiss him, gracing him with soft pressure and that slick, teasing caress that made him moan and turn boneless every time. “You seem confused,” his Master whispered against his lips. “So strip, pet, and I’ll show you exactly how it works.”

When Amani pulled back, releasing him and setting the spreader bar aside, Vic nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat, pulse rabbiting as he stood and shrugged out of his shirt, his jeans and boxer-briefs following moments later. There was something shiver-worthy about standing naked in front of Amani, being devoured by darkening cat’s eyes, taken in as if Amani was only trying to decide where he would taste best. The longer Amani watched him, the more Vic’s cock seemed to swell in anticipation, pulsing and breathing with a life of its own.

Amani took his time looking at Vic, expression lazily satisfied, pink tip of his tongue caught between his teeth—before he smiled and slipped to his feet, dipping into the bag to retrieve the smaller arrangement of straps. “Guess what this is for.”

“You…mentioned a cock strap, so I’m guessing…”

“Correct, pet.”

The back of Vic’s neck tingled. His fingers clenched, and he bowed his head. “…put it on me?”

“You are a good pet.” Amani swayed into him, bringing that sinful voice to his ear. The leather traced down his chest, over his stomach, making his body twitch and tighten and ripple in shudders; that new leather scent was thick between them, heavy and well-oiled. “I like when you ask me for things, sweet boy.”

Before Vic could reply, before he could even groan as that sweet boy threatened to undo him, he felt something butter-soft yet slightly stiff wrapping around the base of his cock, those delicate fingers grazing against him in shuddershock strokes of glancing contact, his knees buckling as the leather strap settled snugly in place around the base of his cock—tight, just tight enough to knock the breath from him, just tight enough for a pleasant burn of discomfort that didn’t quite wander into pain, forcing him to center the entirety of his awareness on that strap hugging his cock. The strap—and the warmth of Amani’s fingers cradling his balls, rolling them deftly, spinning his senses and tearing him apart with an unexpected rush of fever. He buckled, sagging forward, desperately reaching out to clutch at Amani’s shoulders, panting heavily through parted lips—but as quickly as the assault began, it ended as the slimmer straps snapped around his sac, isolating each testicle in a clinging grip and separating them, leaving him feeling…feeling…

He didn’t know how to describe it. It was almost a violation, to have his body toyed with this way—violation, desecration, shame, yet none of those words were right when the sensation tore all words from him to leave his voice nothing but a pleading groan, his hips shuddering with the urge to thrust in an instinctive need to relieve the sweetly piercing pain. Still Amani watched him with such languid calm, covering one of Vic’s hands against his shoulder and squeezing it.

“You know you won’t be able to come until I take this off?” Amani ran his fingertip lightly along the strap separating Vic’s balls, and Vic whimpered deep in his throat. “Not even if I tell you to.”

“Mnnh…I…” Fuck. His head was clouded, spinning, his pulse overtaking his thoughts, catching them up in its river and sweeping them away in a red torrent. “I…p-probably could…but it would hurt.”



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