LOGINONCE A CAT BURGLAR NOW, A DON'S FUCK BOY 6Heat flooded my face; I leaned in, mouth opening. His hand guided my head down; the head slipped past my lips, salty musk filling my senses. I sucked slowly at first, tongue swirling the underside, cheeks hollowing.Wet sounds rose over the hall’s murmur. Shame burned, but my cock strained the mesh shorts, leaking a damp spot. He groaned low, fingers threading my hair, pulling me deeper until my throat convulsed around him. Moans vibrated from my chest; I hated how good it felt, the taste of him in my mouth, the public claim.Minutes blurred and he pulled me off with a pop, lips swollen. “Enough for now.” He stood, leash tugging me up. My palms unclenched just to wipe spit from my chin. He led me through a side door, into a dimly lit lounge with velvet curtains, low couches, the air thick with moans and skin-slapping echoes.Shock rooted me. Other pet boys knelt or bent over—same mesh shorts and harnesses, collars glinting under chandelier li
ONCE A CAT BURGLAR NOW, A DON'S FUCK BOY 6Heat flooded my face; I leaned in, mouth opening. His hand guided my head down; the head slipped past my lips, salty musk filling my senses. I sucked slowly at first, tongue swirling the underside, cheeks hollowing.Wet sounds rose over the hall’s murmur. Shame burned, but my cock strained the mesh shorts, leaking a damp spot. He groaned low, fingers threading my hair, pulling me deeper until my throat convulsed around him. Moans vibrated from my chest; I hated how good it felt, the taste of him in my mouth, the public claim.Minutes blurred and he pulled me off with a pop, lips swollen. “Enough for now.” He stood, leash tugging me up. My palms unclenched just to wipe spit from my chin. He led me through a side door, into a dimly lit lounge with velvet curtains, low couches, the air thick with moans and skin-slapping echoes.Shock rooted me. Other pet boys knelt or bent over—same mesh shorts and harnesses, collars glinting under chandelier li
ONCE A CAT BURGLAR, NOW A DON'S FUCK BOY 5My fists unclenched just to claw at the headboard, wood splintering under my nails. I loved the fire it ignited.He rose behind me, cock nudging my entrance. It was a hot, blunt pressure.He leaned above me and took a lube from the nightstand. I felt the cool drizzle down my crack, his fingers working it in, scissoring until I stretched open. Then he pushed his cock into me, slowly, inch by inch, the burn fading to fullness. Then he bottomed out, hips flush against my ass. We both groaned, the sound mingling in the air.He pulled back, thrust forward, deeply, steady rhythm building. Slaps of skin filled the room, wet and rhythmic. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me back onto him with each snap. Pleasure spiked with every grind against that spot inside; stars burst behind my eyelids. Moans tore from my throat—loud, desperate. “Harder… please…”He obliged, pace quickening, thrusts rougher, balls slapping my ass. Sweat slicked our skin; his
ONCE A CAT BURGLAR, NOW A DON'S FUCK BOY 3 My heart slammed against my ribs, each beat echoing in my ears over the drip of water from some unseen pipe in the basement walls. My thighs trembled, muscles weak from the aftershocks, and my fists clenched at my sides, nails biting into palms until the sting cut through the haze. He straightened, zipped his slacks with casual ease, and walked out without a backward glance. The door thudded shut behind him. The door creaked open again and a guard, broad, silent, walked in. He uncuffed me and grabbed my elbow, his grip like iron, and hauled me to my feet. My knees buckled once; he yanked harder. I was still naked, skin prickling in the chill, as I stumbled after him up a flight of stairs We emerged into a hallway lined with dark wood panels and crystal sconces casting warm glows. Marble floors, cold under my bare feet. He shoved open a double door at the end. The room screamed power, a king-sized bed with black silk sheets. Vittorio’s
ONCE A CAT BURGLAR, NOW A DON'S FUCK BOY 2My cock jolted, straining the zipper so hard the denim creaked. Heat burned my cheeks and spread down my chest.“I’m.. I'm straight,” I blurted.He laughed, low, dark. “Of course, everyone is. Until they're handled by the right cock. Now choose. Or I choose.”A guard stepped forward, and placed a glittering dagger on the weapons table. The blade caught the light.My throat closed. Fists clenched behind me; zip-ties dug deeper, blood trickled warm down my fingers. My knees jerked against the restraints, useless.I looked at the toys. Then at him.My voice cracked. “The second one.”His smile spread slowly, victorious.“Good choice.”He rose, unbuttoned his shirt with deliberate care, eyes still locked to mine. I fought so hard not to meet his gaze, but ended up stealing glances at his hard chest, marked with ink like a map of violence. He crossed to me, fisted my hair, yanked my head back.“Welcome to your new life, pet.”Guards moved—unlocki
ONCE A CAT BURGLAR, NOW A DON'S FUCK BOY 1I sat across the street in the shadow of a boarded-up café, cigarette pinched between my fingers. The cherry flared each time I inhaled, a small orange pulse against the night. At 2:17 a.m. the convoy appeared—three black SUVs rolling smooth and silent, followed by the long obsidian Rolls-Royce that seemed to drink the streetlights. Tinted glass reflected nothing back. The wrought-iron gates parted with a low, hydraulic sigh. Floodlights swept the driveway in slow arcs. I watched until the last taillight vanished inside the Rossi estate.Last night at the Penthouse Club, the necklace had hung against Vittorio Rossi’s throat like it weighed nothing. Diamonds the size of my thumbnail caught every flash of strobe, throwing shards of light across his jaw, his silver-threaded hair, the open collar of his shirt where tattoos disappeared into shadow. I stood three feet away, champagne flute forgotten in my hand, pulse thudding in my ears while my
**Rowan's pov**The lecture hall cleared in a slow shuffle of zippers and footsteps. I stayed in my seat, paper crushed in my fist until the edges tore. Red ink slashed across the top: 58. Fail. My knuckles blanched white around the crumpled sheet. Every citation was correct, every argument tight.
The rest of the week dragged like wet concrete. Every lecture, every glance across the room, felt charged. Vale never acknowledged what happened in his office. He marked papers, explained theory, dismissed class with the same clipped precision. But his eyes found mine more often now—lingering just
Elliot’s hands gripped my waist, pulling me down harder. Wet slaps echoed louder; sweat slicked our skin, making every thrust glide smoother, deeper. My cock slapped against my stomach with each bounce, pre-cum flinging in arcs. Pleasure built wild; I ground down messy, circling my hips to feel him
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, my nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure built like a storm inside me. The bed creaked under us, the mattress dipping with each snap of his hips. His cock filled me completely—hot, thick, dragging over every sensitive spot. My own dick r







