Page 38 of The Family Pet

Uncle Bowie took over, rocking his hips so that I was able to get more of that wonderful steady pressure on the perfect spot in my ass, which had me feeling like I was going to come any second. He bit my neck right beneath the collar. I never got as far as touching myself. I cried out—far too loud for the office—and my dick twitched while cum spurted and splashed my lower stomach. Some drops hit my thighs, and I whimpered when one pearly white dot landed on the wooden desktop.

Uncle Bowie shoved in deep and hard while growling. “Fucking beautiful. You love this stiff cock in you, don’t you, Saint? You’re a good, slutty pup who comes for your uncle.”

I nodded, my face heating again, but rather than struggling the way I had at the beginning of our arrangement, I relaxed back against his hard chest. There was no getting out of this, at least, not unless I wanted to live in a cardboard box somewhere.

At some point I’d made the decision that this was better than nothing. Maybe I’d come to accept my situation because I could pretend for a while after I came that Uncle Bowie was a real boyfriend—someone who cared about me. The same went with Ridge. Every once in a while, when things were quiet, I could imagine he was someone who wanted something nice to happen to me. Maybe he would be excited to hear me talk about what I wanted to write or allow me to endlessly dissect my theories on the world and how it operated.

Uncle Bowie held me close and didn’t let go, and after all the time I’d spent servicing him and holding my body at attention under the desk today, exhaustion swamped me. I rested my arms over his and my eyelids slipped shut, my sleepiness encouraged by the warm office air.

When my eyes snapped open a while later, Uncle Bowie’s dick was still lodged in my ass, and while he didn’t feel as hard as he had when he was fucking me, he wasn’t soft, either. He typed one handed on the keyboard of his laptop.

I grunted and tried to squirm around, and his grip on my waist tightened. He leaned to the side and smirked at me.

“You’re such a cute sleepy pup, but I need you to get up now.”

Groggily I followed his order before my brain even came back online.

“Put your pants and shirt on. Ridge is meeting us here in about twenty minutes, and I know he will be eager to get you home to play.” Uncle Bowie gave me a sly little smirk that had my flesh scalding all over again from head to toe.

“About last night,” I said, taking a deep breath.

He stilled and stared at me. “Yes?” His tone was pleasant but slightly colder than it had been a moment ago.

Bending, I picked up the black leather pants I’d had on earlier from where they were folded in a neat pile beside the desk. I slipped them on and buttoned them before I found the courage to speak my mind. “I don’t like it when Ridge cries. It’s. . . .” I shuddered.

Uncle Bowie let out a little groan and dragged me closer, dropping a kiss on my abs, but then he slapped my ass hard enough that I hissed.

“You’re a pup,” he said, winking at me. “Of course you won’t like your boy crying. Why would you? You’re there to please him and make him happy.” He leaned down and snagged my shirt off the floor, then stood. I lifted my arms, and he tugged the black turtleneck down. As he adjusted the leather collar around my neck, he used his thumbs on my jaw to tilt my head up until I had no choice but to look him in the eye. “A pup should care about his boy, but I’m in charge. As long as you don’t forget that, everything will be fine.” His tone was cold and scary, and my stomach crashed to the center of the earth.

I nodded.

“Oh, now you can’t use words?”

Damn it, is he mad? I shrugged. I’d gotten used to not speaking very often. It wasn’t like he ever wanted my input on anything, including this. I wasn’t sure why I’d tried to save Ridge from Uncle Bowie’s punishments, but I wasn’t lying. I hated it when Ridge was crying.

He sat back down on his chair and pointed under the desk. I really wanted to roll my eyes, but I also didn’t want to sleep in my doghouse alone tonight. “Get back under there and take care of me for a few more minutes.” A small smile played along his lips as I complied, and he scooted the chair forward. As I closed my mouth around his plump dick, I sucked in a deep breath. Somehow I’d forgotten that he was just in my ass. The mix of musky, earthy flavors and his cum hit my taste buds and made me feel so fucking dirty. I moaned.

“That’s right,” he said, and I shivered because that cold tone was gone and the indulgent one was back. “You only have to focus on being a good pup, Saint. Hold me in your mouth. You’re such a sweet pup.” Warmth washed through my stomach like I had been brushed on the inside by soft velvet. I drifted and did what he’d told me to do, and I was rewarded by him softly cradling the back of my head.

A knock on the door had me flinching, but Uncle Bowie tensed and kept me in place with his grip. I was scared his assistant would know what we were doing when the door opened. My body heated as humiliation washed through me, chasing off some of my good feelings. He already knew. The man wasn’t stupid, and he worked closely with Uncle Bowie. He couldn’t see me anywhere and there were no other exits.

“Yes?” Uncle Bowie said.

“I have a guest out here you’ll love to see.” Omri’s sarcastic tone had me on edge, even though Uncle Bowie kept insisting I didn’t have to think or worry about anything while he was around. He wanted me to focus on being a pup—on belonging to him. I shuddered and sucked harder on his dick, and he dug his fingers in against my head. Uncle Bowie tugged on my hair, and I reluctantly pulled off him. He grunted as he stuffed his stiff cock into his suit pants, and I helped him with his belt as he zipped up.

Uncle Bowie got to his feet and rested his hands on the desk.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snarled. My heart tried to beat out of my chest and I reached out and laid a hand on his knee.

Someone chuckled and it sounded so familiar my blood froze, then anger began to swirl in the pit of my stomach. “My wife is having regrets about leaving Saint.” Dad’s voice rang around the room and those words had tears prickling in my eyes. I wanted to leap up and tell him I’d known it all along. They love me! But when I shifted, Uncle Bowie moved to block me in.

“Your wife?” Uncle Bowie asked. “Not you?”

“No.” Dad snorted, and I sat back on my heels. “You know, Saint doesn’t care about anything useful. He always has his nose stuck in a book, and they’re not ever about anything important. Naomi isn’t that concerned about Saint, either. It’s mostly that Gwendolyn, my toddler, wants her brother. She’s been crying because she can’t find him anywhere, and my wife can’t stand Gwennie being sad. Honestly we thought she would forget about him once we bought her a puppy.”

Given my current situation, those words stung more than they probably should’ve, and I dug my grip in too hard against Uncle Bowie but couldn’t stop.

Uncle Bowie laughed, but I was very familiar with his moods at this point, and it terrified me. He opened the top drawer on his desk but didn’t reach inside. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fucking shoot you,” he said, voice silky and cold.