The Retired CEO's Guide To Being Spoiled Chapter 118: The Predator Unbound

Hitherto, in all their shared monts of intimacy, it was a rarity for Julian Sterling to find himself in a position where he had to attend to his own release by hand. Barring the initial stages of their dalliances, those tender monts of teasing foreplay where Ethan Caldwell would stroke him for his comfort, once the main event comnced, Ethan took full command. With his superior technique and powerful, piston-like thrusts that seed to reach the very core of his being, Ethan would drive Julian to the brink, forcing him to ejaculate solely through the overwhelming intensity of internal friction and pleasure that he simply could not contain.

Now, how could a lifeless, inanimate object like this synthetic phallus possibly hope to achieve such a masterful standard? Consequently, Julian found himself forced to minister to his own needs, taking matters into his own hands, quite literally, to care for his aching desire. It was undeniably a ga of his own devising, a trap he had set for Ethan, yet as he lay there, he felt a strange, inexplicable surge of self-pity. The sensation was not entirely refreshing. It lacked the electric thrill of being touched by Ethan’s hands, which bore the rough, masculine calluses that Julian secretly adored. With a pout full of disdain and frustration, Julian released his hold on his lower body. His hands traveled upward, seeking out the peaks of his own chest to find a different source of pleasure to distract himself.

His nipples were already erect, standing stiff and ruddy against the cool air of the room. Julian’s fingers gently kneaded them, circling the areolas with friction before delivering a sudden, sharp pinch. A jolt of numbing pleasure shot from his chest straight down to his tailbone, causing his waist to spasm. Reflexively, his internal muscles contracted, inadvertently swallowing the vibrating toy even deeper into his core.

"Mmn... ah... Hubby..." He could not hold back a sob-like moan that spilled from his lips.

It was stimulating, certainly, yet his body remained fundantally unsatisfied. It felt akin to a traveler wandering a vast desert, sipping water rely to survive. The more he drank, the parch in his throat seed to grow, highlighting a profound emptiness that yearned for a true, substantial filling.

While Julian struggled to fill the void within him, on the bed, Ethan Caldwell was being driven to the very edge of madness by the tableau unfolding before him. Every gesture, every slight furrow of the brow, every pout of those lips, and the way Julian played with his own body... Ethan drank it all in with bloodshot eyes, etching every detail into his mory.

Presented before him was a visual feast of absolute depravity: Julian’s long, porcelain-white legs were spread wide, his slender waist accentuated by the binding of the fragile gold chain that highlighted his seductive curves, while the bells at his ankles trembled with his movents. Below, he tightly clamped down on the dildo, his face flushed with intoxication, an expression that mingled imnse pleasure with a bratty, coquettish discomfort.

That lewd, lethally seductive expression, combined with the broken whimpers drifting into his ears, was a thousand tis more potent than any heavy-grade aphrodisiac. Ethan ground his teeth together audibly, the blue veins on his forehead throbbing violently. He possessed a singular, overwhelming desire to shatter the damn headboard, lunge forward, and pin the younger man down, to ravage him until he wept and begged, to teach him the definition of true satisfaction.

Ethan panted heavily like a caged beast, his voice hoarse as he barked an order for Julian to untie him imdiately. However, the young man was far too engrossed in his pursuit of pleasure and treated the command as nothing more than a passing breeze.

"Are you crazy?" Julian thought to himself. If I release him now, it is a certainty that I will be paralyzed in bed tomorrow. No, knowing Ethan, it was entirely possible that the man wouldn’t even bother to pull out until the next day.

At the re thought of such a terrifying prospect, Julian shivered involuntarily. He made his decision. Even if the dildo was slightly unsatisfying, it was infinitely preferable to being dragged away by Ethan Caldwell for an execution that would leave him half-dead.

Steadfast in this resolve, Julian refocused his attention on the toy. He hurriedly cycled through a few gentle vibration modes, found them lacking in intensity, and decisively flicked the switch to the maximum setting.

Buzz, buzz, buzz...

The device inside him vibrated violently and ceaselessly. He coordinated with the rhythm, occasionally pushing it in and pulling it out, causing the poor, small entrance below to be worked until it was soft, pliable, and thoroughly drenched. Julian’s legs lost all strength, draping carelessly over the armrests of the velvet chair. His eyes lost focus, glazing over, and his face burned red as if he were intoxicated.

Perhaps because he had sunk too deep into his own haze of pleasure, he completely failed to hear the dry, sharp click of tal clashing against tal originating from the headboard.

It was not until his sixth sense scread of an encroaching murderous aura that Julian started, turning his head sharply. Smashing into his vision was the image of Ethan Caldwell, already standing tall and imposing on the floor. How long he had been there was a mystery. Ethan casually tossed the unlocked handcuffs onto the floor.

Clang. The sound of tal hitting the floor rang out like a funeral bell.

At this mont, Julian had no ti to spare for his brain to process exactly how Ethan had escaped. His survival instinct roared to life, and his only thought was to pull his legs back and flee.

However, life is rarely a dream. His legs had long since been rendered jelly-like by pleasure, devoid of any strength, while the object inside his body continued to vibrate madly at its peak setting. In his panic, Julian fumbled, unable to turn off the switch in ti, and hastily pushed himself up with his arms, intending to bolt.

Unexpectedly, his knees buckled. He slipped. This ti, his buttocks landed heavily, thud, squarely onto the hard seat of the chair.

"Ah!"

Julian scread, his fingernails digging into the velvet upholstery until his knuckles turned white. The force of the fall drove the toy brutally to the deepest recesses of his interior. His body convulsed violently, barely able to draw breath. The tender walls of flesh, already rubbed raw, felt hot and swollen, and the maximum frequency of the vibration made him feel as though he were being electrocuted. He could not withstand such excessive stimulation.

Julian’s mind was still spinning, unable to stabilize, when his entire body was suddenly scooped up into the air by a pair of iron-clad arms.

He opened his eyes in panic, finding himself face-to-face with Ethan Caldwell’s countenance, dark, ominous, and radiating a terrifying aura. In Ethan’s eyes, the flas of lust mingled with a promise of punishnt burned ferociously.

In that instant, Julian had only one singular thought: Dood. I am truly dood this ti.