On Your Knees, Prospect (Kings of Hell MC #3) Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: Angst, BDSM, Biker, Dark, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Magic, MC, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Kings of Hell MC Series by K.A. Merikan
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Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
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Without a second to spare, he unlocked the two mobile parts of the bench that supported Jake’s legs and shifted them closer, to make sure he didn’t accidentally graze Jake’s balls, because that boy was gonna soon dance under his paddle, and that was exactly why he either needed restraints or the power of the collar to hold the young body in place.

Jake’s breaths were deep and slow, as if he were bracing himself already, but could he actually have any idea what was coming his way? His ass clenched again and again as if inviting Vars’s paddle.

Vars couldn’t wait any longer. He stretched and delivered a firm stroke to Jake’s supple buttocks. The beauty of the slap could only be rivaled by the helpless sound that broke from Jake’s lips.

Vars couldn’t wait to see the bruises on that ass tomorrow, and it seemed that Jake was beginning to understand that a paddle wasn’t a walk in the park, because his breathing sped up, and he stilled as he braced himself for another hit.

Instead, Vars gave him a few gentle slaps, just to see that gorgeous ass bounce before swinging the paddle hard again. Jake yelped, and his mouth stayed open as he stared at Vars in the mirror.

“Are you feeling the heat yet?” Vars asked before nipping the warm, smooth flesh of the buttock. He smacked Jake hard once more, without waiting for an answer. Vars breathlessly stared at the raspberry-hued imprint of the paddle, so prominent on Jake’s normally pale flesh, the product of his skill and his boy’s obedience. He wished he could wear that picture in his wallet, where the family pictures usually belonged.

“Yes, sir,” Jake said, but his voice was broken up by ragged gasps.

Another smack made Jake whine and clench his teeth, yet he wasn’t anywhere near his safeword, if Vars was reading him correctly, so a harder smack to his other buttock was in order, and this one made Jake jump. Jake’s arms and legs were fastened by the power of the collar, but his hips and back were another matter, rolling back and forth, as if rocked by conflicting needs.

That was good. Vars enjoyed watching all the fruits of his labor, and when he distributed strokes down to the backs of Jake’s thighs, the young, muscular body twisted in a variety of different ways. Jake made such an array of sounds too, from grunts to yelps to screams.

Vars licked his lips and stepped away somewhat, watching Jake tense his ass rhythmically, buttocks just supple enough to bite into. It was time. Vars put away the paddle and squeezed a generous drizzle of lube on his gloved hand. Without waiting, he inserted the one smooth finger deep into Jake’s tight, warm body.

Jake arched as he gave a delicious moan, accepting the finger without question. His ass was so tight around it Vars so wished to be inside him already. The scent of Jake’s sweat beckoned Vars closer, until he lapped some of its musky saltiness off the shivering back. Jake whimpered and rolled his ass against Vars’s digit, horny as fuck despite—or perhaps because of—the ache in his buttocks.

Vars twisted the digit inside, his chest so hot it felt like his blood was about to boil, but in the end, he emptied Jake’s hole again and picked up the paddle with the ungloved hand.

“Good. Now count, and we’ll see how many you can take, boy,” he said, his voice barely recognizable seconds before the firm strike. Gentleness was now over. He wanted Jake to feel his lover’s strength.

“Yes, si—”

Vars didn’t wait for Jake to finish and reveled in the sharp cry that escaped Jake’s lips. The boy’s hole was now slick with lube and clenched violently for Vars’s viewing pleasure.

Jake started counting despite his panting, or the tremble increasing in his voice. The bruises darkened under his skin with each slap, and every time Jake twisted helplessly, only to obediently still despite the violent shivering in his thighs.

“Five,” he choked out, making Vars’s heart skip a beat when he recognized the impending sob. In the mirror, Jake’s face was firetruck-red, and the boy was biting down on his lip as his shoulders trembled even seconds after the smack.

“Good boy. Keep counting,” Vars said and delivered yet another blow, harder than any of the ones before. Jake’s flesh moved at the impact, fast waves spreading from the paddle all the way to Jake’s back and thighs. The blow left an elongated blotch, hot and so red Vars wondered how it would taste, were he to lick it.

He pushed his smooth finger in again, stifling any protests coming his way, but that wasn’t enough, and he soon replaced it with one that had protruding dots all over.

“S-six.” Jake tried to keep his voice steady, but not matter how courageous he was, Vars had no doubts the boy was nearing his breaking point.


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