I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 59: Chapter 59

Drake’s pov

He tried to get out of my hold but I held on tighter, slamming his face back to the wall. When I heard the satisfied sound of his head hitting the wall, I relaxed.

I traced my tongue all over his rim, tasting and sucking the soft globe of his flesh. He writhed, his hands reaching out to touch me everywhere. He just couldn’t keep still.

His moans surrounded us as he told me how much he liked what I was doing to him, with his sounds.

I stuck my finger in my mouth, sucking them till they were wet enough. I guided it to his hole, gradually letting myself in.

A grunt fell from my lips when his muscles clamped around me, he was so fucking tight.

I started out slowly, circling my finger to get him to relax before pushing it back and forth. The motion made him relax and lean into me.

"You like that?"

He nodded, and I stopped. "Use your words."

"Yes...yes, I like it." I nodded, going back to my task.

With my finger still inside him, I brushed my tongue against his sensitive whole. He shuddered, leaning into me like his legs were weak.

I took pity on him and stepped away, he groaned out his disappointment and I chuckled.

"Greedy little thing,"

I turned him around and led him to the bed, letting him stand. I pulled down my pants and sat on the bed, taking in the way his eyes widened comically.

Yeah, I could see myself through his eyes. I stroked my cock gently, loving the way his eyes followed every movement.

"Get down here and suck it,"

He went on his knees immediately, eyeing up my cock like it wanted to destroy him.

"Go ahead, it won’t bite."

His tongue darted out to lick his lips and I got harder. The longer he stared at my cock, the more the veins bulged like it wanted to pop.

It’s been a while since I have had him, my cock was eager to be acquainted with his wet golden hole.

He tentatively licked my shaft from the root to the head, I trembled when his lips covered the entire head, licking it.

His hand palmed my balls and massaged it, he deep throated me.

I placed my hand on his head to keep him in place as I thrusted my hips. He choked a little and I - grabbed him by the throat, forcing him to take me deeper.

It wasn’t until he tapped my shoulders that I let up. He gasped for air, drooling in every corner of his mouth. I stood and pulled him.

Not letting him catch his breath, I shoved him to the wall facing the mirror. I grabbed his face and turned it to the side, letting him look at himself.

With me positioned behind him, both of us butt naked. Our eyes smoked with desire. He was in a trance, staring at my cock through the mirror.

It grew harder with each second. I grabbed the lube on the table beside me and squirted some on my fingers before guiding it to his hole.

He flinched from the cold feeling and still stayed, I turned him around.

Lifting him up was so easy, he wrapped his legs around my waist and my cock positioned itself close to him.

I slid in carefully, taking in the way he melted against me. His hands tightened around my neck and I pushed in further. Sliding back out and pushing in again, the more I went, the deeper and tighter he became.

His whole muscle clamped around me, and I looked at him.

"Relax," I whispered, "it’s not like I haven’t fucked you before. If I remember correctly, you were quite the expert."

He did not relax so I kissed him, he returned the kiss immediately.

Writhing and whimpering on me. I hiked him up further before I slammed into him.

He let out a scream like yell before they fell into moans. I lifted his legs higher, pounding into him.

His lips were everywhere, on my lips, neck, face. It’s like he was trying to mark everywhere he saw to hold in his pleasure.

I carried him to the bed, lifting a leg to my shoulder as I slid in deeper...

I must have hit the spot cause he came on my cock.

"Professor..." he whimpered.

"I am not done with you," I assured him just as I thrust deeply.

...

Morning light sliced through the floor-to-ceiling glass of the penthouse, illuminating the rain-streaked skyline below. I sat at the head of the dark obsidian dining table, a single porcelain cup of black coffee resting untouched beside my tablet.

Lysander walked into the dining area ten minutes past eight, his movements slow, cautious, and visibly tender from last night.

He wore the oversized black sweater and dark trousers from the wardrobe, fabric that drowned his lean frame, making him look even more delicate than he had on the floor of the subterranean lounge last night.

The hickeys wounds on his neck were faint, but I was damn proud of my marks on him. Even prouder when I saw he gave me a few.

He stopped a few paces from the table, his fingers nervously tugging at the cuff of his sweater. "Good morning, Professor," he murmured, his voice still slightly raspy.

"Sit," I said, gesturing to the chair at my right.

He moved instantly, lowering himself onto the leather seat without hesitation. He kept his eyes locked onto the polished slate tabletop, waiting.

"Now that you are sleeping under my roof, we will establish the terms of your stay," I said, leaning back in my chair and crossing one leg over the other.

"First, you do not leave this apartment without my explicit permission. Second, you will cut all communication with your previous life—no calls, no messages, and no contact with anyone from the Thorne estate. Third, you will be available to serve my needs whenever and however I require, without argument or delay."

Lysander didn’t flinch. He didn’t bargain. He simply took a quiet, shuddering breath and nodded. "I understand."

"Do not nod so lightly, Lysander," I said smoothly, leaning forward, resting my forearms on the table as I caught his gaze. "You need to understand what I am talking about. When a vampire of my lineage marks a human, when my fangs sink into your flesh and my venom seals your skin, it is permanent. In our world, we mate for life. That bite was not merely a physical act; it was a brand. You are my property now. Your body, your safety, and your autonomy belong entirely to me even though I have not marked you."

I waited for the hesitation, the spark of rebellion, or the sudden panic of a boy realizing the cage he had stepped into.

Instead, Lysander raised his head. His eyes, though weary, were remarkably steady as he looked directly into mine.

"I accept," he whispered. "I’m yours."

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