I let out a surprised gasp when he grabs my ass and lifts me up on his lap. I can feel his hardened bulge between my legs when I straddle him. The other guy is watching us, touching himself and breathing heavily while he observes our passionate kiss.
Disappointment washes over me when Jared suddenly pushes me away and to the side, so that I’m between him and the other guy. He grabs a fistful of my hair and forces my head down to his crotch while my ass is sticking out toward the other guy.
"Show him what a good cock sucker you are, Button."
I don't think.
I obey.
My trembling hands unbuckle his belt, one that I'm very familiar with, before I free his rock-hard length and take it between my lips. He moans and his grip tightens around the hair falling over my back. I'm painfully aware that my ass is basically sticking in the other guy's face, and I'm expecting to feel his hands on my skin at any moment.
Jared pushes me down on his length until I start choking on him. His hard tip is pressed against the back of my throat, and I begin mewling and fighting for air. I feel a hand on my ass, and I instantly know that it is his. He strokes across the skin, where old bruises from a play session a few days ago are beginning to fade. He releases my head, letting me breathe for a moment, at the same time he moves the fabric of my thong to the side and parts my lips with his skillful fingers.
He glides through my wetness, and for a moment he freezes, shoving my head down on his steel-hard cock with a violent push, his other hand not moving an inch at my dripping core.
"So fucking wet," he breathes, his voice so faint that I can barely hear him through my choking.
"Slut."
The word is hissed with a sharp S, underlined with a tone that suggests anger. But why would he be mad at me? I'm doing everything exactly as he has asked, and usually, he'd be happy to find me aroused like this.
Much to my regret, he withdraws his hand from my core. A sudden and hard slap lands on my ass, causing me to jerk up, my lips still wrapped around him.
"Suck him," he commands.
I retreat and search his eyes for approval, hearing the guy behind me shift in anticipation. Jared's eyes are narrow, his expression fierce and unyielding. I've never seen him this strict and stern. He nods over to the other guy, beckoning me to follow his command.
I avert my eyes from him and get up from the couch, turning around to the other guy, who's already waiting for me. He has freed his cock while I was busy serving Jared, and is stroking his hard length, still leering at me. It's funny that Jared would pick a guy who is similar to him in so many ways.
I go down on my knees, only throwing a quick and coy smile at the guy's face, before lowering my eyes and wrapping my hands firmly around his girth. He groans and leans back on the sofa, fixating on me while I slowly lean forward, ready to comply with Jared's command.
And that's when it happens.
"Stop!"
My heart almost stops at the sheer volume of his voice, and the guy jerks up in reaction to Jared's warning echoing through the living hall. We turn both our heads to him, equally surprised when he waves at T directing him to go away.
"Leave. Now."
My heart sinks.
Have I done something wrong?
My hand is still wrapped around the guy's cock when he gets up, growling with anger and disappointment while he fixes his trousers and straightens his shirt. He strides toward the elevator without so much as another word, not looking at either of us, and I watch him walk away. I feel like an utter failure.
What the hell just happened?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jared
"Jared!"
I flee from her voice. I can't look at her right now. I can't fucking look her in the face, and I sure as hell don't want her to look into mine. Not now. Not after what just happened.
I storm up the stairs heading for my office and slamming the door behind me. I'm not going to lock myself up like a hurt little girl, so I don’t lock it. Button should be smart enough to know that she'd better leave me alone right now.
I pace around the room like a damn lion in his cage, growling with rage and feeling like a pathetic loser. How could I let this happen? Why couldn't I get a hold of myself? I've done this many times before, and I fucking enjoyed it! I needed it! Seeing my toys get used and fucked before my eyes has always been part of the game for me, part of the fun. I savored the view of them getting treated like the little sluts they are, I relished the feeling of superiority as I not only directed them, but the guy who was fucking them. My possessive nature thrived in these scenarios.
Never, ever, have I felt like I did today.
That image, that damn image of her, touching him, ready to please him. Even seeing him lay his eyes on her like that was too much. I tried to fight it. I tried telling myself that I just needed to get used to it because it has been a while since I've done anything like this.
But I was lying to myself.
It was as if someone was punching me in the gut when she lowered herself over his cock. All the other things felt like small strikes in comparison, a slap in the face when she looked at him, a clasp around my throat when he looked at her, a superficial cut with a knife when she closed her small hand around his hard cock. I thought I could take it. I thought I had to take it.
And the worst part of it all? She was enjoying it! She was dripping wet, trembling with excitement when I gave her the orders, just as if we were alone.
No. Not as if we were alone. It was actually more than that. She seemed more excited, more into it. I bet that T wasn't the only person to meet my sudden outburst with disappointment. Hers might even have been worse.
This is the fucking worst part about it. I'm a wimp. I'm the fool who chickened out, while she is still sticking to the rules.
I hear a knock at the door and stop mid-pace.
"Sir?"
Her voice is barely audible, not much more than the suggestion of sound, numbed even quieter by the door.
I remain silent, standing stiff, my eyes glued to the door.
"Jared?"
She's louder this time, but not any less worried. A few more moments pass before I hear her turning the door knob.
"Out!" I bark at her. "Stay out!"
But she's done listening to me today. The door slowly swings open, and I expect to be faced with her worried expression, her eyebrows curved in concern when she comes in to console me.
But, as always, my little Button manages to surprise me. She's entering the room looking exactly the way I left her, with her exposed tits bouncing with every step, her thong most likely sticking to her still-wet core, and balancing on her heels as she approaches me, her stern look fixated on me.
"You don't get to yell at me like that after what you just did," she says, planting herself in front of me with her arms crossed below her tits. "What was that all about? If I did something wrong, why don't you just tell me? Correct me? Teach me?"
She pauses, inhaling deeply before she continues to speak.
"I thought that that's what all of this is about. You teaching me, training me. When I do something good, I get a reward - when I do something wrong, I get punished. Is this a punishment?"
I shake my head. "No. It's not a punishment. You did nothing... wrong."