Sold to My Boss

My boss made me a proposition. $250,000 to take my husband as I watch.

A deal too tempting to refuse. A night they’ll never forget.

When Ronan’s powerful, magnetic boss, Spencer Hale, makes an indecent proposal—$250,000 for one night with Ronan’s husband, Carlos—he knows it’s wrong. But with a dream home just out of reach, Ronan discusses it with Carlos, and they decide it’s too good to pass up.

What starts as a cold transaction soon turns blistering hot. Watching his husband with another man awakens something dark, thrilling, and dangerously addictive in Ronan.

When the night is over, none of them can walk away untouched.

Desire. Power. Money. Love.

Will this be the last time Ronan agrees to his husband being used?

---

I sat beside my husband, Carlos, in bed as he typed away on his laptop. He was entering the specifications on a real estate website for the type of home we were looking to buy. It was a weekly ritual every Saturday morning. Look at all the houses we couldn’t yet afford.

“Oh, I like that one.” I pointed at a three-bedroom, two-bath craftsman-style house. Carlos opened the listing and flipped through all the interior and landscaped yard photos.

It was a gorgeous house.

It’s a bit of a moot point looking for a home yet. We were still miles away from saving the amount we needed for a substantial down payment. Still, we could dream.

I sipped on my coffee as Carlos zipped past the listings we had seen already. We both had good jobs as lawyers, but we wanted to keep our monthly mortgage payments down.

Carlos snapped his laptop closed. It was almost eleven in the morning, and we needed to get our day started. We were both booked for haircuts and shaves, and we needed to pick up our tuxedos for tonight’s award dinner and ceremony, for which my firm had been nominated.

Shower first. Carlos went into the bathroom and started the water. I joined him once he was standing in the large, tiled shower stall. We each had our own showerhead, but I joined him under his and pressed his chest against the wall. His hole was still loose from this morning’s pounding.

I slipped right in; my cum from earlier acted as lubricant. Carlos grunted through every upstroke and whined when I jammed up high into him and made another deposit.

I wanted his hole oozing and wet for the rest of the day. I plowed him twice last night and twice this morning before getting into the shower. I had the stamina of a stallion.

I retreated to my side of the shower and started with my hair. Carlos would be aching and throbbing inside his chastity cage. I’d allowed him to cum once last night. It would be days before he would be permitted to cum again. I liked to keep him on the verge of climaxing.

Edging was one of our love languages.

After we were showered and dressed in jeans and t-shirts, we headed to the barber’s for a bit of pampering and to ensure our appearance was entirely on point. People sometimes commented on us as a couple. Apparently, we were both stunning and looked like brothers.

We weren’t, but even I could see the similarities. High cheekbones, sultry full lips, piercing green eyes, and sleek black hair—God had been kind to us.

When we finished at the barber’s, we stopped for a late lunch. There would be a lot of food at the ceremony, but we didn’t want to be seen eating too much.

Illusion was everything. Carlos and I worked out every day to keep our bodies sinfully toned and sculpted. We did it for ourselves and each other to keep our immense desire alive.

“What do you think, Ronan?” Carlos stood in front of our full-length mirror, critiquing himself in the perfectly fitted tuxedo. He looked good enough to devour.

I’d have to wait to get him home to follow through on my hunger. His ass looked tight, muscular, and round. I’d be starting with his sweaty cum-coated hole.

We’d had sex before we dressed ourselves in tonight’s finery. Carlos was wearing two pairs of underwear to keep from staining his tuxedo pants.

To arrive in style, I’d arranged for us to be picked up in a limousine. It was well stocked with champagne, so we started with that. We’d finished a bottle by the time we arrived at the hotel where the ceremony was being held. I proudly walked Carlos inside with him on my arm.

My husband had the upper hand on me. Where I was handsome, he was beautiful. Exotic with his darker skin tone. Heads turned as we entered the room filled with round tables seating six, white tablecloths, and extravagant floral centerpieces. We found our names on the head table for our firm, along with all the partners. I was being considered for partner.

We took our seats, and I poured each of us a glass of wine. I wasn’t going to sit through this thing sober. It would be long and tedious. Someone rang a bell, and everyone who had been mingling took their seats. One of the partners, Spencer Sullivan, sat beside me.

We awkwardly shook hands, and Spencer leaned forward to look past me.

“Nice to see you here, too, Carlos,” he said.

Carlos wasn’t the talkative type, but he managed a “Best of luck to you tonight.”

We were up for three awards. Firm of the Year, Diversity and Inclusion Champion, and Managing Partner of the Year, for which Spencer had been nominated.

We were expected to clean up on all three of them. We usually did, which made the ceremony even more boring. There was no tension. No excitement.

While we were still picking at our dinners, the host for the evening took the floor up front. He started with some stupid jokes that I had heard a hundred times before.

“What’s the difference between an accountant and a lawyer? Accountants know they’re boring. What do you call a lawyer with an IQ of 50? Your Honor. What’s the difference between a lawyer and a liar? The pronunciation.” And the most tiring joke of all. “What do lawyers order to drink? Just-ice.” The crowd was polite, laughing and groaning at the guy’s efforts.

As expected, we won all three of the categories we’d been nominated for. Spencer’s speech was longer than I had patience for. As soon as he finished and I congratulated him again, I nudged Carlos. “I want to head to the washroom. You coming?”

“Sure. I could do with a whizz.”

All the way there, I kept looking over at my husband. He looked so good in that tuxedo; I was considering buying one for him to wear during our role-play sessions.

When we reached the washroom, it was empty. I grabbed Carlos and backed him up against a wall. I’d been watching his lips on occasion as he spoke to the person beside him.

I wanted them.

I descended on his mouth and took control of it, devouring and forcing his tongue to behave and let me taste it. I was aware of movement behind me, so I released him.

“Don’t stop on my account.”

It was Spencer, and he was standing with his dick out at the urinal. Carlos went into a stall to relieve himself. The chastity cage made it challenging to pee. It was best if he sat down.

I took a place beside Spencer, and my stream hit the back of the urinal. I caught his head moving to check out what I was packing. He lingered with his gaze.

“Your husband looks good tonight,” he said.

I chuckled. “Carlos always looks good. Can’t keep my hands off him.”

Spencer tucked his cock away. “You still saving up for a house?”

I exhaled. “Yeah. It’s going slow, though.”

Spencer turned to face me. “I have a proposition for you.”

I tucked my dick and did up my zipper. “What kind of proposition?”

“The kind that will give you enough money for a down payment.” Spencer went to the sink to wash his hands as I raised my eyebrows.

Intriguing.

“Ask Carlos to go back to the table so we can talk.”

I soaped up my hands as Carlos emerged from a stall. What could Spencer possibly want to talk about that required me to be separated from my husband?

Carlos joined us at the sinks as Spencer, and I finished up. “Hey, babe, could you head back to the table without me? Spencer and I have some boring business to discuss.”

He nodded. “Sure.”

Once Carlos was gone, Spencer and I waited as a few men came and went from the urinals. Spencer walked to the rear of the washroom and motioned me over to him.

“So, what’s this proposition?”

Spencer kept his voice low. “Your husband is beyond hot.”

Yup.

“I know.”

“I want to fuck him.”

I took a step back, my heart hammering. I’m sure my eyes looked like stunned saucers. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” I needed to hear him repeat it.

“I’ll pay you.”

“To fuck my husband?”

“$250,000”

Holy fuck.

“You’re not serious.” Sure, Spencer had more money than God himself, but why would he want to spend it on sticking his dick in the man I loved?

“One catch, though,” Spencer said. “You have to watch.”

My dick twitched as I briefly imagined what that would look like. Carlos being fucked by another man as I watched them. My husband—fucked by my boss for money.

“You don’t need to decide now. Talk it over with Carlos. I want him to be willing.”

A lump formed in my throat. I wasn’t sure what to say, even if I could speak. I didn’t hate the idea, but Carlos would need to be fully on board. We didn’t have an open relationship.

Spencer patted me on the shoulder and left the washroom, leaving me to think about what I was going to say to Carlos if he asked me what I wanted to do about the proposition.

I felt uneasy as I sat beside Spencer at the table, reaching for and holding Carlos’s hand beneath the tablecloth. The ride home in the limousine was quiet.

Thankfully, we were exhausted when we got home. I drilled Carlos from behind, gently and lovingly, before we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

I wasn’t very talkative over breakfast, and Carlos kept looking at me with concern etched on his gorgeous face. I decided to spit it out. “Spencer had a proposition for me—for us.”

“Anything to do with becoming partner?”

“No, to do with adding another $250,000 to our bank account.”

Carlos furrowed his brow. “Is it legal?”

I huffed out a laugh. “Sort of.” Prostitution was illegal in our state, but I felt like this fell under a different category; Carlos might not see it my way.

“Okay, so what is it?”

“He thinks you’re hot.”

“And?” Carlos frowned at me. I think he knew where this was going.

“He wants to fuck you.”

That caused an immediate peak in Carlos’s eyebrows. “He what?”

“Wants to fuck you … for money.”

“He wants you to pimp me out.”

“It would be a one-time thing.” I reached for his hands and took them. “$250,000, Carlos. Imagine it. We could finally buy a house.”

Carlos didn’t speak. He just looked at me. “Do you want me to do it?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want. The decision is up to you.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Carlos shook his head. “This is a decision we make as a couple.”

“Okay, then are you considering it?”

“I need to know what way you’re leaning.”

I sighed. “It’s a lot of money for one night. You love being fucked. Whether it’s me or someone else, I think you’d be all over it. We’ve talked about making our marriage open.”

Carlos pulled one of his hands free from mine and rubbed his lips. He was considering it. I could see it in his expression. He was deep in thought.

I had one more thing to add. “The deal is off the table if I don’t agree to watch.”

Carlos’s eyes grew wide, and his breathing became more pronounced.

“That would be so hot.”

“You think we should do it?” I asked. “Take Spencer up on his offer?”

“I’m liking it more and more as I think about it. Spencer is a good-looking guy.”

I lifted my phone from my pocket. “Should I call him?”

Carlos rose from his seat, came around to my side of the table, and kissed me with such passion I knew the idea was turning him on. Once he left the kitchen, I made the call.

We were doing it. My boss was going to fuck my husband while I watched.

---

We’d decided to meet in a fancy hotel room paid for by Spencer. No way could we afford this place. The space was split into two rooms. A living room and a bedroom.

The bed was enormous. Plenty of play space, and there was a chair in the corner as if they knew why we were here. I was riding a bit of a high, thinking about what was going to happen.

Carlos and I poured ourselves a drink from the bar and took a seat on the sofa to wait for Spencer to arrive. I sucked in a breath when he opened the door and walked in.

He was dressed in a sporty, expensive, and casual way. He looked good. I couldn’t wait to see him naked—naked and plowing my husband’s hole.

Spencer poured himself a drink and sat across from us in a plush chair.

“Are we still on to do this?” he asked.

“Looking forward to it,” I answered.

Spencer looked at Carlos. “And you?”

Carlos nodded. “Fully on board.”

Spencer clasped his hands together. “Excellent. How about you get undressed while I finish transferring this money into your account. I’ve cleared it with my bank already.”

As Carlos peeled off his shirt, I showed Spencer our banking details. By the time Carlos was undressed, $250,000 had been deposited into our savings account.

My husband stood facing Spencer. I could see that he was filling his chastity cage, flesh pushing through the openings. He was so into this; he’d been doing some growing in his pants.

It put me at ease that he was turned on.

Spencer motioned for him to come closer to him. My cock perked up when my boss grasped Carlos’s cage and flicked it to jump a few times, causing Carlos discomfort.

“You’re a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” Spencer said. “All caged up like that.”

Carlos shivered. He loved dominant talk. He was a perfect submissive.