The Dollhouse Society Ultimate Boxset: 21 Books & 5 Shorts in the Dollhouse Society Series

by Eden Myles

  Kyle was silent a long moment. I almost started feeling bad about my outburst, when he said, “Yeah. I totally understand. Before the band, I worked in a shitty little pizza shop, slept on the storeroom floor, so I get where you’re coming from. I’m sorry you’re in this position.” He hung up.

  I started jogging again. But I only got half a mile before I started feeling like a total asshole. Kyle had been nothing but nice to me. They both had. I stopped and punched in his number, and when he picked up, said, “Look, sorry I went off on you, man. Finals and all that. I’ll switch with one of my coworkers. As long as a warm body is behind the counter, my boss doesn’t give a shit who’s working.”

  Kyle was silent a long moment. “If it’s a problem…”

  “It won’t be a problem. I’ll be there.” I hung up, then looked blankly at my phone. I’d gotten out of a night of fucking opera, then agreed to this? What the hell was wrong with me?

  ***

  I’d thought Falstaff was going to be one of those depressing four-hour operas where everyone died at the end, but it turned out to be really freakin’ funny, and the music was surprisingly good. It was over way too soon.

  I was sitting in the limo beside Mr. Griffiths as we pulled out into New York traffic when he said, “You’re smiling.”

  “Am I?”

  “I always find Falstaff enormously entertaining.”

  “I liked how no matter how much of a fool they made of the big guy, he just laughed it off like it was nothing. Nothing got him down.” I felt a little jealous of the great, fat knight with the even fatter ego, singing about how the whole world was a jest, so naively…happy and satisfied with his life. Jesus, if only. Here I was, always power dieting and exercising, trying to be the it boy, and Falstaff just did whatever the hell he wanted and still everyone dug him. It just wasn’t fair.

  I was thinking so deeply on the play that I almost missed Mr. Griffiths’ question.

  “Shall I drop you off at campus, or are you hungry?”

  I looked at the man on the seat beside me—angular, elegant, a little more exotic and high-class than I was used to. Jesus, I mean, the man wore a cravat instead of a tie. How many men did that these days? I just didn’t know how to respond. In the last few hours I’d gotten used to his dark, smoky cologne, his heat and comforting presence as I sat beside him in his personal box at the opera. I didn’t want that to end just yet. “Yeah, I am a little hungry,” I said. Then I realized how rude I was being. “I mean, yes, sir.”

  “Good. So am I.” He put his hand on mine where it rested on my knee. He had larger, more sinewy hands than I did. I watched his rings glinting in the dark of the limo.

  In my mind’s eye, I saw him lovingly caressing Kyle’s cheek and alternately spanking the spunk out of him. It made me want to shift around in my seat. Great, just want I needed…wood at the worst possible moment.

  Mr. Griffiths’ eyes lingered on my lap like he knew. “I know a pleasant little place where we can catch a bite to eat.”

  That, of course, reminded me of his kisses on Kyle’s neck, his teeth…

  We stopped at an out-of-the-way restaurant that he said catered to members of the Society. Instead of one large dining area, the place was divided by screens into smaller, intimate, cubicle-like spaces. Mr. Griffiths ordered lobster for us both, white wine for him, sparkling water for me. As we ate, he looked me up and down until I felt myself blushing like some kind of virgin.

  “What?” I said.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “No,” I pushed. “I want to know.”

  “You’re absolutely beautiful, Stefan. That’s all. I’m merely admiring the view.”

  A lot of guys said that. It didn’t mean anything. “You can thank Dr. Michaels for that. He didn’t just fix my face, he improved on it.”

  “You’re beautiful inside, as well. I can tell.”

  “A lot of people would disagree with you. A lot of people think I’m a grade-A asshole.”

  “A lot of people are wrong.” He continued to study me.

  “What are you really thinking?” I pushed. “Be honest.”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Tell me.” No one looked at me the way he did, so intense it made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  His sharp grey eyes glittered with greedy interest. “I was thinking about how much I desire you right now, how much control it’s taking me not to bend you over the back of my chair and fill you from behind. I want to lick that lovely, hard cock of yours. I want to tie you to my headboard and spank you until you come for me. I want to ride your fine ass and fill you with my seed, my pretty, young stallion.”

  My cock twitched in my pants and I blushed from head to foot, hating how Mr. Griffiths had managed to do twice to me in a matter of seconds what no one in the past had been able to do in my entire life. I’d thought I was jaded. I’d thought no one could get to me, turn me on like this. Obviously, I was wrong.

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’re offended by my candor.”

  “No…I’m not…I mean…” I reached for my water glass with a jittery hand, tried to take a sip while the fantasy he’d painted in such fine detail flitted through my mind, and somehow managed to splash half of it down my shirt and into my lap. Cursing, I used the cloth napkin in my lap to soak up some of the water, but it wasn’t enough. “Jesus, I’m a clumsy bitch.”

  Mr. Griffiths was cradling his cheek in his hand, smirking as he observed me. “No, you’re a lovely, desirable young man. Delicious and utterly fuckable.” He licked his lips in a lascivious manner. “And if you come home with me, we’ll take care of those wet clothes together.”

  ***

  Mr. Griffiths was a complete gentleman until we were safely inside the penthouse, up the spiral staircase, and inside his vast, book- and art-laden bedroom. The suite looked like something a fairy tale prince would sleep in, and the moment I spotted the huge, custom-made Canterbury sleigh bed, I immediately had a fantasy of Mr. Griffiths and Kyle thrusting and panting together on the sheets, the sweat dripping off their faces. The thought made me even harder than I was.

  He had been loosely holding my hand, but now Mr. Griffiths turned with a more solid hold around my wrist, like we were ballroom dancing to invisible music, and pushed me back against the wall near the king-sized bed. He pressed the back of my hand to the wall over my head while he inclined his head and placed a nibbling sting of a kiss at the corner of my mouth. I wriggled but he subdued me easily as his exploratory kiss grew fiercer and he finally took my lips in a searing kiss that all but turned my legs to water beneath me.

  “Are you imagining all the things I want to do to you?” he growled against my lips.

  “Y-yes,” I panted out.

  “I mean to do them all.” He smirked against my mouth. “I’m going to fuck that fine ass, make it mine. It’s obvious you need someone to take you in hand, boy, make you their personal fuck-toy. It’s what you were made for.” The raw, unfettered way he spoke surprised me. It was nothing like the cool, aloof way he acted in public.

  I trembled as he held me immobile against the wall, as he intensified his kiss, biting hungrily at my open mouth, his tongue wrestling with mine, subduing it. He traced the seam of my lips with the tip of his tongue. He bit and chewed on my lower lip. He ran his other hand down the curve of my side and over my ass, his fingers digging into the firm flesh there with sharp, possessive force. He ground his pelvis against me so I could feel the heaving strength of his washboard abs and ready, steely cock. He was huge, bigger than I was used to, and it both thrilled me and scared the living crap out of me.

  “Christ, you’re a fucking bull, aren’t you?” I said in reference to his strength, his sinewy musculature, his eager, demanding cock. I hadn’t expected he would be this strong or this…dominant.

  He nibbled slow, sharp, unhurried kisses along my lips and cheek. “I volunteer time to Habitat for Humanity on the weekends,” he explained. “We build hom
es for the homeless. It gets me out of the office and swinging a hammer. I enjoy that.”

  “Really?” I hadn’t expected that. I mean, he just didn’t seem the type to want to get dirty outside of a boardroom. But when I ran my hands down his lean back, I could feel the hard knots of muscle there, his tight ass. Not gym muscle, the real deal.

  He licked my lips gently, almost playfully. “It’s the best workout you’ll ever get, and it gives me strength, which Kyle can attest to. He can’t sit for two days after I spank his sweet ass.”

  “Shit.” My body moved against him automatically. I breathed in his heady, woody cologne and warm maleness and soon found myself rubbing my tight balls against his leg, dry humping him like some dog in heat, the way Kyle had. I looked up into the chiseled, lean plains of his face, his darkly glinting cobalt eyes. His face was smooth and tanned from working under the sun, none of that spray on garbage.

  He flared his nostrils, scented the curve of my cheek and neck. He inhaled my scent and I swore violently under my breath. Jesus, he was fucking hot. Perhaps not traditionally handsome in that square-jawed, rough-and-tumble American movie star kind of way. He’d never make it in Hollywood. But he was all vulpine, European grace, and the fierce and honest intensity of his lust stole my breath away. The power I felt in his arms, the hunger of his kiss, left me breathless and shaking with need.

  He kissed me, fondled me, squeezed my ass. My entire body felt like it was burning up with a desire to do anything he asked. I wanted to feel him buried to the balls inside my body, and inspired by his own honesty, I shyly told him that. He moaned a response as he kissed me and we made out. My cock and balls ached in a way I hadn’t felt since high school, when I’d been with my first, that initial explosion of hungry, exploratory desire.

  I trembled against the wall for him. The fact that he could make me feel that way—like he was my first—surprised me. I’d been with plenty of guys—too many, Iz would say—but this was as different from those encounters as water was from wine. I rubbed my aching hard-on against him faster and faster. I couldn’t understand how anyone could make me feel so good and pure and yet so wanton at the same time.

  His fingers clenched, his grip bruising the flesh of my ass. I didn’t care about the pain. I liked that he was marking me this way, claiming me, making me his boy, his thing. I made small whimpering noises in the back of my throat as he roughly kissed me, explored every inch of my mouth. I tasted the web of saliva building up between us, connecting us. He stopped consuming my lips long enough to say in a small, harsh voice, “I’m not hurting you?”

  “A little.”

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “Christ, no.”

  “You know our safewords?”

  “Yes,” I managed to wheeze out of my breathless throat as I continued to buck against him, wanting, needing…Christ, I was like a man possessed. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my entire life. “Please, sir…don’t stop.”

  “Tell me our safewords.”

  “Why?”

  He looked at me so fiercely I felt like a prey animal cornered by a hungry predator, living entirely at his mercy—a victim of his slightest whim. “Because once I start with you, Stefan, you may have trouble keeping up. Kyle does. And I want you to be able to stop me if I go too fast.”

  I laughed at the idea that Mr. Griffiths could wear me out, a man half his age, but Mr. Griffiths wasn’t laughing. “Do what you want to me,” I confessed. “I don’t care.”

  “I do. Now repeat our safewords.”

  I did as quickly as I could. I was surprised to remember them with such clarity, my thoughts as scrambled as they were.

  “Good. Now, if we continue, you must agree to be my courtier in full.” He released his hold on my ass so he could grab my chin in his powerful grip and cant my head up. His other hand went to my cock. He snagged me roughly through my trousers like it belonged to him and not me. “That means I expect you to obey me, to come when I call you, to service me when I request it. I expect you to put my needs above those of your own. I expect you to be loyal to me. No other lovers. Can you do that, Stefan?”

  Christ, the way he touched me…I only thought about it for one breathless second. I would have done anything he asked if he would just keep kissing me, fondling me. “Y-yes, sir.”

  “I’m a jealous man, Stefan. I expect us to be exclusive, the three of us,” he said, and I could tell from his stern tone of voice that this was a point of contention with him. “Break our agreement, break our hearts, and you break our contract. Do you understand?”

  “Yes…yes, all right. Anything you want.”

  He glared at me.

  “Anything you want, sir,” I said.

  I wanted him to keep touching me, but he pushed me to my knees in front of him, held me there. “Show me. Make me come, but don’t come yourself. Prove you can be a good courtier, that you can obey.”

  With shaking hands I undid his tuxedo trousers, finding his dick thick and long and slightly curved, weeping and ready for me. Fuck, he was hung like a horse. He’d left me strangely off-balanced all night, but this I knew how to do. I flitted my tongue over the head of his erection, lapping at the pearls of precum pouring down the sides. I slowly and sexily slid my mouth over him, deep-throating as much of him as I could before curling my tongue around his shaft.

  He grunted and fisted the back of my hair, forcing me to take more of him than I almost wasn’t comfortable with. When I’d reached my limit and began to choke, he bucked his hips, making me take yet another inch before gliding back and out of my mouth.

  “Lick my balls, boy,” he said, pressing my face into his groin, and I did. I licked under his cock and over the silky skin of his sac. I sucked each of his testes into my mouth, suckled them hard until I heard him grunt and the hard band of muscle in his lower abdomen contracted as I brought him to the very edge of release. I immediately turned my affections back onto his lovely cock, let its fullness stretch my mouth and fill my throat. I thought my jaw might crack to accommodate his size. I moaned around so much meat in my mouth, sucked at his precum until a shiver coursed through my body and centered in my trousers, making them almost too hot and tight and wet for me to bear.

  He clenched my hair hard, pulled my head back so I was forced to let him go. Cupping himself, he pulsed a pearly spray of come over my lips and chin and down the front of my half undone shirt. “Lick.”

  I licked my lips, trying to make as sensual a display of it as I could.

  “Lick me clean.”

  I did. I licked up every drop.

  His face indicated neither satisfaction nor disappointment. He did look me over like he wanted to eat me alive. “We need to take care of that shirt,” he said as he pulled me up and started ripping at my clothes, pushing my shirt off my shoulders so he could lick and bite the side of my neck. His teeth went into me briefly and I moaned at his aggression. I’d been with some pretty rough lovers in the past, but I hadn’t felt this with any of them. I hadn’t trusted anyone like I trusted him. I wanted him to bite me. I wanted to wake up tomorrow marked with his touch, his teeth.

  Once I was naked he looked me over and I saw approval in his eyes. Approval…and a ravenous hunger. “Pretty boy, up on the bed. I want to tie you down and ride that sweet ass of yours. I’ve waited long enough.”

  I climbed up onto the mattress and settled down in the nest of satiny pillows at the head of the bed. Watching me stoically, he took both my wrists in one of his and pulled loose the cravat he wore, using it to bind them tight. It was silken material, and it smelled like him; I didn’t mind the pressure. I moaned as he bound my wrists to the spindles of the headboard and then slowly stripped and climbed atop me, straddling my hips, as lithe and as powerfully muscled as some jungle predator.

  Christ, he was fucking gorgeous, like some silvery-hair Adonis. He rubbed his thumbs against the sides of my face, his eyes smoldering with desire. “Do you want me to stop, pretty boy? Tell me
now.”

  “No. I want you to take me. You have to take me.”

  He smirked. “I’m not hurting you? Going too fast?”

  “No.” The genuine concern in his eyes made my heart ache. I arched my back, trying to touch more of him, straining my binds as the rest of my body begged to be mastered. “Please…”

  He laid a finger to my lips. “Shhh…I want you to remain absolutely silent, or I will punish you. You’re not to speak and you’re not to come until I give you permission. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, wanting to obey him. Anything if he’d just fuck me already, slow, hard and deep.

  He stroked his knuckles against my cheek, leaned down to kiss me gently, almost too gently, before moving down the centerline of my body. He stopped to lave generous attention over each nipple, to take them delicately in his teeth and suckle. He swiped his tongue along my breastbone, my abs and lower belly, and finally my aching hard cock. He licked the length of me up and down, slowly, carefully, exploring and familiarizing himself with every inch of me, licked and sucked upon my balls, blew gently upon my swollen cockhead until I was whimpering and warring against my binds and precum was pouring generously from the head of me.

  When he heard me, Mr. Griffiths slapped me smartly across the balls and I cried out. Again he slapped me, but this time I took pains not to say a word. I absorbed the pain, cherished it. “I said not a sound,” he growled.

  I swallowed hard and worked at controlling my breathing, subduing my cries. He resumed his torture, circling the base of my dick with his tongue, tracing my balls slowly and methodically. He growled and licked frantically at me so I bucked my hips and said, “Please…just fuck me already, sir.”

  His face darkened. “It would seem you need more training.” He reached into the bedside drawer and took out what I strongly suspected was probably a cock ring, but not one I was familiar with, not even from the leather bars. This one was stainless steel and styled like three rings soldered together. He slid the thick band of cold metal over my cock. I bit back a cry of surprise, fearful of what else he might do to me if I continued to disobey. The two smaller rings fitted tightly around my balls. The pressure was immediate and startling and danced on just this side of pain. I knew there was no way I would come until he released me.