THE OWNERSHIP CLAUSE

KI BRIGHTLY

M.D. GREGORY

The Ownership Clause © Ki Brightly and M.D. Gregory

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Credits or It Takes a Team to Raise a Book

Line Editing by Jennifer Griffin at Marked and Read.

Early Reading by Jo McCorkell, Heather Waskom, Lucky Barnes, Suzanne Irving, Julie Hanson, Fiona Bryant, Shelby De Jesus, Kortland Wood, and Robin Chrusniak.

First Round Editing, Copy Editing, Proofing, and Editing Coordination by Kiyle Brosius.

Cover Design by Dez Purington at Pretty In Ink Creations.

The Man Made of Stone

Albion Guthrie has a reputation for being unapproachable. He’s emotionless. The only thing he “loves” is his job. When Albion’s boss asks him to keep Wade Lee Sawyer in check at the office after an attempted white-collar mutiny, Albion has no choice. Wade signs a contract stating he will work for Albion and follow his directives, and if Albion can manipulate anything in his favor, it’s paperwork.

The Traitor Who Craves Love

Wade Lee Sawyer only ever wanted to be loved. Was that really so wrong? He was hungry for any positive attention, which led him to make the worst mistake of his life. He trusted the wrong man and accidentally got caught up in a plan to destroy the company he loves. Now he’s paying the price. Following Albion’s orders at the office is easy for him, and he begins to enjoy it more than he ever thought he would.

Always Read the Fine Print

Every choice has consequences. Spending so much time with Wade has Albion acting in ways he shouldn’t. Falling in love isn’t mentioned anywhere in the contract they signed, and Albion makes it his mission to never let that happen. Wade wants something meaningful, and he knows Albion could never fall for him after the way he acted.

Or can he?

This story takes place in the beautiful city of St. Loren, Louisiana, which is part of the New Gothenburg world.

CONTENTS

Authors’ Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

Afterword

The New Gothenburg World

The Vanheim World

AUTHORS’ NOTE

Albion isn’t very nice to Wade at the beginning of The Ownership Clause. He’s really, really not nice to him. He is not a good example of a Dom. Please note that we are aware of this and want to stress that this is not a healthy representation of a BDSM (or any!) relationship. In fact, Albion is downright awful. I think it would be safe to say he doesn’t even like Wade at the start of things, but M.D. Gregory and I always come through with a happy ending, so buckle up for a wild ride!

Stay safe out there, but please enjoy your trip into fiction.

~Ki Brightly

1

WADE LEE SAWYER

“This isn’t part of my job duties,” I muttered, then redoubled my efforts using a toothbrush to scrub the black tile that made up the bathroom floor.

Every bit of this had been designed to be awful for me. I swear, this was a toothbrush for mice because it had the smallest head I’d ever seen, and dinosaurs danced down the wide silicone handle. The acidic stench of piss was heavy in the air, and I glared up at the black urinals anchored to the wall above me. I dipped the toothbrush into a small bucket of soapy water, but even the piney scent couldn’t totally kill the smell from at least a week of bad aims. The cynical part of my brain decided maybe Albion Guthrie had come in here and pissed on the floor on purpose, but I had no proof to back that up.

He did hate me, though, along with everyone else. It was possible.

There was a dark chuckle behind me that sent a shiver up my spine, and a wave of humiliation washed through me. I glanced over my shoulder at Albion. He was perched cross-legged with his laptop on the black stone counter next to the silver sinks—which might’ve been amusing under other circumstances, since he was so tall and wearing a sharp gray suit.

Presently, it definitely wasn’t anything except annoying.

I’d cleaned that area first, back when I’d desperately hoped he wouldn’t make me scrub yet another floor today. This bathroom was nice because clients used it, and everything was fancier than the others in the building, but I’d been doing this all morning. It was safe to say that all bathrooms smelled the same.

I wrinkled my nose.

“Oh, this is within your job duties. Anything I tell you to do is your job while that shiny new contract is in play.” Albion grinned, which made his stern face ridiculously devastating. He was all harsh angles softened by dark stubble, bold eyebrows, and curvy pink lips.

My face burned as I sat up on my knees and slapped down the toothbrush. I wanted to shout at him and tell him to go fuck himself. Tell him no, this isn’t my job, because goddamn it, I’m an architect, but none of those words came out of my mouth. I never could make myself say what I was thinking, which was half the reason I was in this awful mess.

“Aw, are your wittle feewings riled up? Big feelings, buddy!” Albion snorted and shook his head, and then he chuckled like an asshole and glanced back down at the laptop he was typing away on, not even stopping while he picked on me. The lights over the sink glittered in his dark hair. “Your job is whatever the fuck I say your job is until I trust you, which I don’t see happening, Sport. If you wanted things to be different, you should’ve reported Xadrian’s bullshit to the boss. Especially the theft.” He winked at me and fired off a finger gun in my direction.

Heat prickled my skin and I curled forward.

Xadrian.

My ex.

The second he’d left Mr. Guidry’s employment and I hadn’t followed right behind him like an obedient puppy, he’d cut me out of his life. Thankfully, I’d never given up my apartment, and also, thank God, no one had realized we’d been dating.

He’d been too ashamed of being with me to tell anyone—it didn’t fit his image.

He’d told me over and over again that if he did come out, it sure as hell wouldn’t be for someone like me. Not smart enough or attractive enough or rich enough, I guess. He’d never specified which of my faults were the worst, but every time he’d said I wasn’t worth the effort, the words had cut deep.

Scowling, I dipped the toothbrush in the bucket, then continued to scrub hard at the floor tiles. This really wasn’t much different than my life had been with Xadrian in it. Doing all the work, getting none of the credit, and taking on all the trouble for things I hadn’t done. Sighing, I rolled my burning shoulders, trying to work out the pain in my spine.

“I have degrees,” I muttered, the closest I would get to outright saying that this was a total waste of my energy.

“I don’t care.” Albion hummed. “I don’t trust you to talk to clients or do any work, and if I have to go over every detail of what you do, then I might as well do it myself. This is glorified babysitting,” he said, slapping his hand on the counter. “We’re both here because Mr. Guidry is too good of a guy to fire you. You’re surviving on his grace. I would’ve kicked you to the curb.”

I glared at Albion again, but he was ignoring me to study the computer screen, and somehow that was worse.

To be doing exactly what I’d been told, how I was told, and be totally ignored put a hot flame of shame in my gut.

But that wasn’t really any different than usual, either.

And fuck, part of me kind of liked it in a messed-up way. It was what I deserved, and I was getting all the humiliation that I’d earned.

I had no idea how much time had passed, but I was away from the urinals and scrubbing the middle of the floor when Albion sighed. My muscles stiffened as he carefully unfurled his long legs and stood. He towered over me like a god, and I hated the part of myself that didn’t mind the way he lorded his height over me—maybe even secretly loved it.

“It’s lunchtime,” he said, closing his laptop and tucking it under his left arm. He glared down his nose.

“Okay.”

“Up,” he said, snapping at me like a dog. “Go wash your hands. Don’t be hem hawing around.” His eyebrows danced upward as he surveyed the clean parts of the floor. He didn’t whisper a word of praise about how much I’d gotten done, but I’d worked as fast as I could, not letting myself be lazy. That terrible—yet somehow pleasant—feeling coiled in my gut, making my eyes hot. I wanted to cry.

I really did need him to say something about my work.

Anything.

And yet, I was getting what I deserved, and that was a painful joy I wouldn’t ever be able to articulate to anyone.

I washed my hands and dried them, then stared at Albion, waiting for his next orders. In a way it was nice not to have to think too much, but again, I wasn’t about to tell him that. I caught sight of my flushed face in the mirror, and my blond hair was plastered to my head with sweat. I grimaced. Ah, yes, that wasn’t very flattering, was it? I started messing with my hair, and Albion huffed.

Yeah, he probably didn’t care one whit what I looked like.

“Today,” Albion snapped at me again, dark eyebrows low over his serious brown eyes. He glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusting his tie, and I wanted to do it for him or tell him he already looked perfect—but, of course, I didn’t.

I should hate Albion.

Over the past two weeks—after I’d signed a contract here at work, which put me directly under his supervision—I’d started to wrestle with the squirmy spot in my belly that took pleasure in being told what to do.

It wasn’t fair that the first time in my life I’d truly gotten something I enjoyed—constant supervision and direction—it was a punishment.

Oh, and the man holding my reins seemed to hope I would die and not make it to work. He gave me the same look he did every day, like I was making his life hell by simply existing.

“Let’s go,” he said, then strode out into the hallway.

I followed him to his office and waited outside the door—I wasn’t supposed to go in unless he expressly invited me. I’d found that out the first day of this new arrangement. Part of me wanted to step inside the door and see what he would do, but I suspected he had something even worse than the bathrooms waiting for me if I actually pissed him off.

A frisson of excitement punched through me, the urge to act up strong, but this was my job. Albion could ask Mr. Guidry to fire me, which I absolutely couldn’t afford. I had nowhere to go if I lost my apartment, no family to save my ass. My brother was the only one I had, and he wasn’t doing any better than me. In fact, he was doing worse because he was working the back of the house in a restaurant. I gave him money for the meds he needed to get by.

Sighing, I firmed up my jaw and waited.

Albion came out of his office and locked the door behind himself, and I followed him from the gray brick building into the parking lot. He didn’t say anything but pointed to the passenger-side door of his pretty black Ford, and I got in the truck.

“Where are we headed?” I asked, buckling my seat belt.

His nostrils flared, and I wasn’t surprised when he ignored my question.

Not long later, he parked the truck outside a small coffee shop, Cosmic Corner, on the edge of St. Loren’s Business District. The café was located near the community college, so it was often swamped with students. I noticed several people from Albion’s team through the wide front window as we approached the entrance. They were already inside gathered at a round wooden table and comfortably talking to each other.

Rainbow flags were draped at intervals on the walls and between those were photographs of local folks. I’d never been able to figure out who they were. The coffee was excellent, and lots of people, who were probably on their way to class, mobbed the order counter. Before Albion opened the door, he whirled toward me in a cloud of cologne that made my head swim. My confused dick plumped and poked at my boxers.

Albion pointed at a nearby bench along the front of the building. “You can get yourself something and sit there. I don’t want you listening in on this meeting.” His eyes burned with the same impatience that had lived in them since I’d signed on the dotted line.

I knew he liked Mr. Guidry, and he’d been pissed off about the way Xadrian had treated Mr. Guidry and his boyfriend Maurice—and all three men would be even more furious if they knew that Xadrian was gay himself. He’d caused so much trouble for Maurice and Mr. Guidry about their relationship out of pure spite. It had been the only thing Xadrian could think of to try to rile up conservative people in the office against Mr. Guidry. And now here I was dealing with the consequences of a scheme I’d never been behind.

But Albion was right.

I should’ve said something early on. I should’ve chosen my loyalties better. And now I was enduring the fallout alone. I slunk over to the bench and sat there, not bothering to get lunch because I wasn’t hungry. I knew the meal would be business expensed, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to go inside, and my gut churned as I watched everyone else through the window.

No one wanted me in there.

Humiliation squirmed through me, and Albion caught my eye as he sat down at a table inside and nodded, as if he was pleased to find me exactly where he wanted to see me. A bolt of pleasure and heat slid through my gut, and I called myself a thousand names for it. This man didn’t like me. He didn’t want me to be happy, and he didn’t care if I did everything he said.

There would be no rewards at the end of the day—not that there had been any with Xadrian, either. But that was beside the point. I sighed and hung my head, kicking at the sidewalk with the tip of my shoe. My cock tingled, and I ignored it.

Albion wanted to punish me by having me sit out here alone—maybe. Or maybe he really didn’t want me to hear any of the work stuff they were discussing because he didn’t trust me.

Blazing heat brushed through my insides at the idea that I was being punished. I groaned and closed my eyes. I loved that thought, but at the same time it was hollow simply because there would be nothing good after it.

There wouldn’t be any “good boy” or “you’re beautiful today” or “come over here and bend over.”

No, it was all punishment.

I crossed my arms and leaned my head back against the wall. I could quit, but I couldn’t take the risk of doing it without another job lined up. There weren’t many places around here I could go with my degrees that the boss wouldn’t already know I’d worked for Mr. Guidry—none, precisely. Mr. Guidry would talk to any prospective employers whether or not he was supposed to by law. That was just how things went around here.

There was a real good old boy network.

And I needed to stick around the area for my brother.

No, this was it.

I was trapped, and hopefully I would eventually earn a little bit of trust and could do my real job again. And if not? My stomach curdled. I had no idea what to do then. I sat there for a long time contemplating life, then a sharp sigh drew me back into the real world. I glanced up at Albion, and he tossed a white paper bag onto the bench beside me.

“What’s this?” I asked.

He thrust a large cardboard cup at me, and it was either take it or wear the contents.

Plain coffee wasn’t my thing, but I didn’t feel brave enough to mention it.

“Lunch,” he snapped. “I didn’t think you were dumb enough that you wouldn’t get anything from another place if you didn’t like this one.”

The food here was fine, but he’d told me to sit out here. Frustration ate at me. How had I fucked up? He’d given me a nod! And yeah, I could’ve gone somewhere else, but I didn’t bother telling him that I’d paid six hundred dollars for heart medication last night. He probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. My bank account was sad enough without me paying for lunch at a restaurant.

“Let’s go,” he snarled at me. “You can eat in the truck, but if you spill it, you’ll be picking up every crumb with tweezers.” He walked away.

My heart leaped and I fought down a smile because I knew he fucking meant it. He glanced over his shoulder at me and there was nothing there. No playfulness. It was all hate. My stomach contorted again with a strange sizzle of desire and longing. This was so close to what I wanted my life to be like and miles away at the same time.

A cruel, sick tease.

“Now!” Albion said, walking faster, and I rushed to reach his side.

Same as always, I would take what I could get and hope for the best of the worst.

He glared at me out of the corner of his eye.

“What?” I asked, my gut sinking.

“A sneak and no manners?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

For a second, I blanked and had no idea what he was talking about, and then I squeezed my fingers on the bag as I panicked. Finally, relief smacked me.

“Thank you for lunch. . . Sir.” Okay, maybe I was a sneak because pure pleasure powered through me at using that word with him. He didn’t know how much I liked it.

He grunted and looked ahead, and I hid a smile as I sipped the bitter coffee.

2

ALBION GUTHRIE

Wade Lee was a pain in my ass.

The only reason I went along with this charade was because of the boss. If he hadn’t given Wade another chance, I wouldn’t have been sad about it, but now I was stuck with ordering the traitor around like he was my submissive. I couldn’t even get my real subs to listen as easily as he did. I’d expected him to fight at some point, but the only negative reaction I’d gotten out of him was a small wince before he did whatever I’d told him.

It was extremely inconvenient, and I couldn’t begin to understand him. He’d never hidden the fact that he was gay, yet he’d joined Xadrian’s homophobic vendetta against our boss, Wick Guidry. The entire thing was beyond ridiculous.

“Remind me why you’re doing this again?” my best friend, Massimo Sabbatini, drawled from where he sat at the bar beside me. With eyes the color of ice, dark hair, and a beard, he was the type of Dom that most of the subs around these parts wanted. His voice was naturally deep and demanding, and the mystery that surrounded him had all the pretty ones hard in their pants. It didn’t hurt that he was a Sabbatini, part of a rumored mob family. What sub didn’t want a mobster for a Dom? It was all part of the fantasy.

They never stuck around for the reality, though.

Massimo gave me a long look.

Oh, shit. He’d asked me a question. “Because my boss told me to handle it.” I waved at the bartender, a cute little thing named Avery who wore pointed elf ears that pressed against pale white-blond hair. He couldn’t be much over five feet tall but had the bratty nature of someone bigger than my six feet. I’d seen him give lectures to Doms who towered over him when they got too rowdy or started a fight.

Avery dropped another glass of whiskey on the silver bar in front of me and winked before his interested green gaze slid to Massimo. “Anything for you, tall, broody, and handsome?” His voice was tinged with an Australian accent and the words were as light and airy as his appearance. No one would guess he owned the club we were drinking in.

Club K was one of the best kink clubs in St. Loren. Everyone who was anyone in the BDSM community came here.

I dropped my gaze to his left hand, where two of his digits—the middle and ring finger—were half missing. Deep scarred pink riverbeds spread up his arm and across his shoulder like a trail of torture. He also had a prosthetic leg, and while people had asked him what had happened before, he never gave a straight answer. It was a new story every time he was questioned.

Shark attack.

He’d been in the CIA and was tortured.

He was with a Dom into kinky knife play—with really bad aim.

No one ever knew what was real. I liked Avery, though. He had spunk and would’ve made the perfect sub—if he was interested in me. Which he wasn’t. He only had eyes for Massimo, who was only into women.

However, that was life. Nothing ever worked out.

Massimo grunted and let his stare wander down Avery’s chest, which was bare and sprinkled with glitter. He was all soft skin and flat belly—where he wasn’t scarred—with a sinewy build. Gender aside, he wasn’t Massimo’s type as far as I knew.

“No. I’m set,” Massimo said.

Avery shrugged and left us alone to carefully walk to the other end of the bar, toward someone trying to flag him down. There were two other bartenders tonight, but Avery personally took care of us. He always did when Massimo was with me.

It would be simple to make Avery fall to his knees, yet. . . Wade was so much easier. He did it at work with ease, like he was born to follow orders. The Dom part of me fucking loved it—had been getting far too much pleasure from it.

“You got a hard-on for your boss?” Massimo finally asked, though his narrowed eyes stayed on Avery, watching as if he were a predator and Avery was his tasty prey.

“No. He’s a good guy who pays well and offers a great work environment.” I shrugged and took a sip of my whiskey. I’d been in shitty jobs, and I wasn’t going to give this good one up without a fight. It was hard to find a boss who wasn’t a prick in St. Loren when it came to engineering and architecture, especially a full-service place like Émeraude Technologies that did a hell of a lot more than churn out blueprints. Most came from old rich families to begin with, and while Wick Guidry did, too, he wasn’t a complete asshole, unlike the others I’d worked for.

Massimo grunted and took a sip of his beer. “So, make this traitor’s life hell.”

“I am. I have him fucking cleaning the bathroom floor with a toothbrush, and he glares at me, but it seems like he’s ready to say thank you, Sir. He already called me Sir yesterday.” And it had done some pretty fucked-up things to me. If I’d grown hard enough to hammer nails, I wouldn’t admit it to a soul.

Massimo’s gaze slid to me and his mouth curled to the side. “Sounds like he belongs in this club.”

I groaned and massaged my temples with two fingers. “That’s the fucking problem, isn’t it? He’s a sub in every way, and I don’t think he knows it. He craves direction and being ordered around.”

“Then give it to him.” Massimo’s smirk widened before he took a long gulp of his beer, Adam’s apple bobbing around the liquid. A few people near us stopped to stare at him, and I didn’t blame them. Not really. Massimo was classically handsome, all Italian beauty with a sharp jaw and mesmerizing eyes. Not like me. I was. . . ordinary. I had dark hair, too, but my face wasn’t gasp-worthy. The fact that he caught everyone’s attention was one I’d learned as an early teen when I’d first become friends with him in junior high. Since then, I’d gotten used to being underwhelming compared to Massimo.

I supposed if Wade saw Massimo, he’d probably fall all over himself on his way to begging Massimo to dominate him, and the very thought made my stomach twist. No. Wade was mine to control and order around. Straight or not, I wasn’t going to let Massimo anywhere near Wade.

I shook my head and cupped my hands around the glass, staring down at the amber liquid inside. “He’s a traitor who went along with Xadrian’s schemes. He deserves everything he gets and worse.”

“Even if he enjoys it?” Massimo drawled. “Sounds like being rewarded, not punished.”

I couldn’t deny his words because I was enjoying it as much as Wade seemed to be. Fuck. I groaned and rubbed my face.

And Massimo, the bastard, grinned knowingly into his beer.

I remembered Wade before Xadrian’s mutiny attempt. I’d talked to him a couple of times; although, I suspected he’d always been afraid of me. There’d been one memorable lunch hour. I sighed.

* * *

I rolled my shoulders, cursing my recent ex, Will, who had lobbed a doozy of a parting shot at me before he’d flashed his middle finger and sailed out of my life for good. “You’re a cold son of a bitch, Albion,” he’d said, and he hadn’t been entirely wrong. “You wouldn’t give a shit about your own mother.”

Now, two days later, I was still annoyed.

Will had known what he’d been getting into when he’d agreed to our situationship. It definitely hadn’t been a relationship. Lunchtime came, and when I checked my phone, I saw a message from Will telling me he’d gone back to the apartment and gotten the last of his stuff and left the key. Good fucking riddance. But now I was irritated.

Stomping into the break room, I cursed Will and shoved my phone into the pocket of my suit pants. Inside was empty except for one person—Wade—who leaned against the table with his hip. He had his cell pressed against his ear, talking in a low, angry tone.

While I usually didn’t care about other people’s problems, I needed the distraction.

“I told you, Neil, I don’t have the cash this week.” He paused, clearly listening to the person on the other end. “Then why did you quit? You couldn’t afford it!”

I held in a snort as I made my way over to the ancient coffee maker. It was old but still did a pretty good job making a decent cup, and everyone was attached to Betty, as someone had affectionately named her. The name had caught on quick, and she even had googly eyes glued to the lid on top so she could judge us for the number of cups we guzzled every day.

“I know you’re sick, but you can’t afford not to work.” Wade glanced at me, eyes sad, and from where I stood, they almost looked teary. He gave me a shaky smile and turned his back on me.

I shrugged and went to work making my coffee. And just to prove to fucking Will I wasn’t selfish like he’d claimed, I made one for Wade, too. I didn’t know how he took it, but he could add whatever he wanted.

“Just. . . . I need to go. No. I don’t want to argue with you. Goodbye.”

I ignored Wade for a moment until he approached me cautiously, eyes downcast and a blush spread across his cheeks.

“Um.”

I shoved the mug of coffee I’d made for him in his direction, careful not to slosh the scalding liquid on him. “I don’t care.”

“Huh?” He blinked at me, confused.

“Whatever happened there, it’s none of my business. Here, drink the damned coffee. I didn’t add anything to it, didn’t know what you wanted.”

Wade offered me a small, nervous smile and finally took the cup. He moved to the counter and added two sugars and a touch of half-and-half, and I watched as his long, thin fingers wrapped around the mug timidly, almost shyly.

I sat down at the round table in the middle of the room and opened my phone, scrolling the boring social media apps that never quite interested me. I didn’t understand the fascination with other people’s lives, especially when all they wanted you to see were the highlights, the best parts and not the worst.

Wade sat beside me cautiously, eyeing me as though he expected me to snap because he’d chosen to sit there. “You’re Albion, right? I’ve seen you around.”

I snorted. “Seen me around or heard the rumors of what an asshole I am?”

Wade chuckled and took a sip of his drink. “An asshole wouldn’t have made me coffee.”

“Shh. Don’t tell anyone my secret.” I glanced up at him and winked, and he laughed.

“It’s safe with me.” He thumbed the rim of his mug. His pale lashes fluttered over his cheeks, and I watched, not quite sure why. He wasn’t the prettiest man I’d seen, and the office was big enough that we didn’t see each other often, since he wasn’t on my team, but there was a softness about him I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

It drew me in.

He didn’t speak for a long time, and neither did I. Others came and went, the conversations they were having with each other loud in the otherwise quiet room, and by the time I was ready to go back to work, he seemed to be as well.

He rose and grabbed my mug without asking, taking it to the sink to wash it out, and I gave him a nod.

“Thanks.”

He flushed and dropped his head forward like he was embarrassed. “You’re welcome, Sir.”

If I felt anything about being called Sir by him, I didn’t think too much of it. I rarely saw him anyway. He belonged to Xadrian’s crew.

* * *

Monday morning I walked into the office with my shoulders squared and my mouth pursed in a thin line. I nodded at my personal assistant, and she gave me a shaky grin in response, but it was a reaction I was used to because everyone thought I was a little scary. Even though Annie had been working for me for a year now, she still seemed unsure around me, as though she wasn’t certain if I was going to yell at her or not, and I had never yelled at anyone. Expressed my disappointment in a very hard tone, yes, not yelled. I found that using a dissatisfied voice worked better anyway. My Dom play came in handy at work.

“Annie, please call Wade Lee and tell him I want him to come see me. Immediately.”

She nodded fast, her blond curls bouncing with the movement, as I walked past her and into my office to sit down at my desk. I rolled my chair closer to the steel desk and rested my briefcase in front of me. Leaning back in my gray chair, I crossed a leg over my knee and waited patiently. I checked my watch, the same one my dad had given me for my twenty-first birthday, and took note of the time.

7:45 a.m.

It took Wade twelve minutes to knock on my door. Twelve minutes too long.

“Come in,” I barked out in a hard tone.

A moment later the door opened, and a nervous Wade stepped over the threshold. His suit was black today with a crimson tie, and it would be a lie to say he didn’t look good because the suit did his body the best kind of justice. The material fit him like a glove, and while it was clearly cheap and not as expensive as my Hugo Boss, he’d managed to find himself one that aligned with his build perfectly. The attire was better than the awful polo shirts that Xadrian had expected his people to wear. His golden hair was styled to sit flat on his head and wide hazel eyes stared at me, concern mixed with apprehension. I rarely invited him into my office, and I suspected he thought that I thought he would spy on me, which wasn’t exactly untrue.

I had a lot of trust issues with this rat.

Wade took a deep, wobbly breath. “Mr. Guthrie.”

“Sir,” I said simply, and he blinked at me. “Call me Sir the way you did a few days ago.”

He cleared his throat, and I didn’t miss the way pink tinged his cheeks. “Yes, Sir.”

I stared at him while he peeked around the office, taking in the minimal furnishings. I didn’t have many decorations, going for a modest approach instead. Everything was gray and cold, and if you asked my ex, it matched my soul. My home was exactly the same way. I found color to be distracting and useless.

“Is there something I can do for you. . . Sir?” He lowered his chin against his chest.

The perfect sub. Too bad he was a snake in the grass. I kept my face neutral as I rose from my seat and walked around to the front of the desk. I rested my ass against the edge, leaning completely on it, and crossed my arms.

“Close the door,” I murmured.

Of course, he rushed to comply, then returned to his previous stance.

Fuck. “Tell me, Wade, what’s your end goal here?”

He glanced at me from under long gold eyelashes. “Sir?”

“Why are you staying in a company run by people who hate you?”

He flinched, and I almost felt bad for my harsh words. Almost. He licked his dry lips and exhaled. “I love working here, Sir.”

“Bullshit.” My jaw hardened. “You’re useless. A thorn in my side.”

Something flickered over his face that looked close to lust. Oh, what is this?

Smirking, I rolled my shoulders. “This isn’t a movie or a book, Sawyer, and if it was, you’d be the villain. You’re pathetic.”

A small shudder traveled down his body, and I almost missed it. Shit, Massimo was right. This wasn’t torture to him, this was pleasure. He wanted me to say horrible things about him. Yet. . . . I’d also seen him hungry for praise. Was it possible for him to want both? I’d only ever met subs who wanted one or the other—but both?

Interesting.

I didn’t fantasize about bossing around Wade too deeply because this man was not going to be mine. Absolutely not.

I pressed my lips together and hummed in thought. How much could I push him before he broke? I was tempted to find out. “I have another job for you today.”

He blinked at me and clasped his hands together in front of his crotch. “Sir?”

I shifted and sat on the desk instead of leaning against it, then stretched out a leg. “I want you to buff my shoes.”

His gaze dropped to my black shoes before darting back up to my face. “With shoe polish?”

I grinned, a pleased sensation swirling low in my stomach, moving farther south to my cock. Hmm. How far is too far? Well, I wasn’t trying to keep him as an employee, was I? “No, with your tongue.”

He froze and a deer-in-headlights look flashed over his face. He glanced at the door, then back at me, and a part of me expected him to flee, to tell Wick he quit and never come back—or at the very least, to beg to have someone else supervise him. To my surprise, he didn’t move. He fiddled with his fingers, eyebrows drawn together in thought as though he was weighing his options.

The simple fact was that asking him to do this wasn’t professional. Not by a longshot. He had every right to tell me to go to hell, and I would understand. Cleaning the bathrooms with a toothbrush was one thing, but to ask him to lick my shoes clean? Ridiculous. I’d seen Doms do it to subs, and I’d enjoyed watching, but I’d never had a reason to punish any of my partners like that. Also, Wade was definitely not my plaything. He was a work colleague under my supervision.

Yeah, this had gone too far. I didn’t know what was going through my head. I almost opened my mouth to tell him it was a joke and try to laugh it off, but he was still thinking.

Wade pushed the lock on the door, then fell to his knees in front of me, swallowing visibly.

Oh, fuck.

He lowered his head and his chin wobbled before he shuffled forward toward the leg I had stretched out. He grabbed my ankle and stared at me through his eyelashes. The vulnerability that he held in his eyes triggered a strong emotion I couldn’t explain, and my cock twitched and swelled.

Fuck. No. I wasn’t going to get a boner from Wade Lee Sawyer on his knees. Absolutely fucking not. This was about getting him to quit.

Snorting at my own lies, which not even I believed, I continued to stare at little Wade Lee.

He stopped in front of me and looked up again as though confirming this was what I wanted, and I nodded.

“Do it,” I ordered.

His hands shook, but he held my ankle steady as he began at the tip of my shoe, tongue darting out to lick it. My shoes were always shined to perfection because, like the rest of my attire, I preferred to appear immaculate, so by licking my footwear, he was doing nothing but smudging it with his saliva. I didn’t care, though. It was a punishment.

At least, I thought it was. His shiver of excitement said the opposite.

He licked a long stripe down the length of my shoe and kissed his way back up it until he was once again cleaning the tip. His movements were hesitant, but he didn’t stop. From this angle, I had a good view of his crotch, and to my absolute delight, his pants bulged.

With my other foot, I nudged the obvious hard-on. “What’s this, Sawyer?”

He winced and stopped licking to glance up at me. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” My mouth twisted in smugness. “You like being a shoelicker, huh? You look like a bitch in heat.”

He shuddered and a flush spread across his cheeks. “Sir, I don’t⁠—”

I wasn’t going to fuck him. That didn’t mean I couldn’t fuck with him, right? “Did I tell you to stop, Shoelicker?”

He stared up at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “No, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

“As you should be. Do what you’re told.”

This was so far beyond wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this at work. Mr. Guidry would be fully appalled. I shouldn’t have done anything like this without a lengthy, boring discussion about boundaries. Wade responded so well he might already have a Dom somewhere who would want to plant a fist in my face. I let out a long, shaky breath as he gave my shoe another kitten lick while staring up at me.

Fuck, I was enjoying this way too much.

3

WADE LEE

My body was a live wire. My tongue tensed strangely and the odd taste of leather and something else—some deep flavor—teased it.

I should be horrified. He could’ve stepped in anything in these shoes, but rather than stop the way any sane person would, I swirled my tongue around the tip, treating it like a cockhead and really putting some love into the motion.

Oh, what would he taste like if he shoved his thick dick between my lips?

Albion grunted, a masculine sound that dug under my electrified skin and had my cock pulsing where it was trapped in my suit pants. My gut clenched when I glanced up the line of his leg and noticed his cock stretched to the right, pushing out the fabric of his pants in a telltale ridge. I planted a kiss on the tip of his shoe, then nuzzled it with my nose, trying to show him what a good job I could do with anything he wanted to put in my mouth.

“I said lick,” he growled.

A wave of heat rushed through me, and my arms turned to jelly. I had to focus on keeping my elbows steady to avoid face-planting in his lap. “Yes, Sir,” I whispered, staring into his eyes.

He grunted, gazing at me as if I was the most disgusting thing to have ever touched him.

Panic, fear, and a bizarre, pure pleasure twisted together and fought in my stomach, but in the end my cock pulsed like it had received a lightning strike. I glided my tongue up over his shoe, letting it travel across the bumps of the laces, until I could plant a secret kiss on his ankle, over his thin dress sock. The heat from his body was close to my lips, a soft tease of pleasant things that were out of reach. I whimpered.

With another low, awful sound—which was actually perfect—he grasped my hair and yanked my head back. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again without permission, you filthy little slut. You know I hate you, and you’re still hard.”

Shock and anger powered through me.

I’d been good.

I’d done what he’d asked, and I’d ached to show him my appreciation, but he didn’t want it. I stared directly into his eyes and sank my teeth into his shoe. He yanked back, and I was left with a line of leather and polish behind my teeth that I spat out.

Albion gaped down at his scratched shoe. When he turned his gaze toward me there was such venom in his expression that real fear pelted through me. I scrambled backward, but he planted his shoe on my chest and pushed. In less than a second, I found myself on my back, staring up at the ceiling in a daze while I tried to catch my breath.

“What was that?” he asked quietly, all the disappointment in the world dripping from his tone. He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to. I knew I’d fucked up and I squirmed like a worm inside.

Fear and shame coiled in my gut, and I shrugged as tears bit the corners of my eyes, but I didn’t allow them to fall.

He leaned more of his weight on my chest. The second I struggled to take in a deep breath, he eased up and some of my panic subsided.

“Let’s be clear, boy. You’re trash.” He waited as if he expected an answer from me.

Panicking, I had no idea what to do, and my vision went spotty before it occurred to me what he might want. “Yes, Sir.”

“You don’t get to touch me without permission. Ever,” he said softly, leaning down. I wasn’t prepared for it when he spat on me, the glob landing on my cheek, but a hot, beautiful coal sparked to life in my stomach. I squirmed, holding in a moan as my cock took on a life of its own. My shaft struggled against my pants, and my fingers and toes tingled.

“Yes, Sir,” I breathed out. I reached toward his foot, not thinking, and he glared at my hand until I curled it into a fist beside my head.

His sharp gaze darted around my face, then back to his scratched shoe, and my stomach went cold. Fear zipped through me again as his lip curled. Why had I done that? I couldn’t remember what I’d been thinking, if there’d been any thoughts at all. I’d felt used in a bad way for a few seconds. Now I’d ruined the part I liked. God, I was a fuckup.

“You can’t even do this right.”

My heart froze at the echo of my fears spoken out loud between us. My humiliation was complete. I moaned and couldn’t do anything else.

Albion shook his head, the light coming in through the cracked blinds highlighting his serious expression. “Do you really think I would let you touch me?” He wrinkled his nose. “You’re filthy inside and out. Fucking useless. Who would want you?”

Pain, different from having my hair pulled, something that hurt on a soul level, tore through my chest and my breath stuttered.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, but my voice shook. I felt like I was on a roller coaster, and I’d been high, but now I was in a dip and the cart had gone off the rails. Hell, I’d been hurled to the rocks. I thumped my fist on the floor.

Albion ground his shoe on my chest. “You’re going to regret showing me your teeth,” he said, and the smile that crept onto his face was almost pleasant. I rolled my hips and held in a whimper as desire surged through me and stole my breath.

“What’s my punishment, Sir?” I breathed out before I stopped to think whether or not that was a good idea.

He stared at me, head tilted. “Is that what you need?” he asked, voice strangely lacking the menace that had been in it every other time we’d talked.

My mouth fell open, even though I had no idea how to answer him. My body wanted to give him the response he clearly desired, despite my brain making staticky sounds. My cock was all I could really think about. I inched my hand down toward my groin, and he took his foot off my chest to rest it on my wrist. He put enough weight on me that it almost hurt, and I wriggled my hips, unable to stay still.

His eyebrows climbed toward his hairline and he licked his lips. Oh God, I knew I’d fucked up. There was no way I would be allowed to even think about touching myself here at work—even though we’d clearly slipped past anything work related a while ago.

I think we’d both known we were headed this direction since the beginning.

“Take your bucket outside and start scrubbing the stoop near the employee exit on the parking lot side,” he said in a bored tone, then backed off completely. I felt like I had whiplash as I sat up.

“What?” I asked, blinking at him.

“I don’t want to see your face inside for the rest of the day,” he said, tone cold.

My stomach sank. This was my punishment? Tears gathered in my eyes again. This wasn’t anything I’d been hoping for—not that I’d had a clear idea of what might happen, but to be dismissed from his presence completely wasn’t it.

He snapped his fingers at me as he walked away and around his desk. “Come on. You’re burning company time.” He didn’t look at me again until he was sitting behind his computer.

“Yes, Sir,” I mumbled and carefully got to my feet. My skin was too hot and my cock was poking obscenely at my black suit pants. I turned my back to him and closed my eyes.

“Get going,” he said.

“I can’t,” I whispered. “Need a minute.”

He snorted. “For each second you stand there instead of going, you’ll spend an hour at my apartment doing every dirty chore I can dream up.”

Whipping around, I stared at him, but he didn’t look at me. Instead, he glared at the computer screen. His apartment? That would mean seeing him outside of work. Not that this was really a work thing, whatever the fuck we were doing right now. I bit my lip.

“It’ll be all night, soon,” he said casually, then glanced up at me. There was something in his eyes, something vicious, that made my heart beat faster. “And I do mean that I’ll work you to the bone there,” he growled out. “You don’t deserve any rest.”

His tone and the hardness of his jaw sent pins and needles racing over my skin. Curling forward with a hand on my abs, I gasped as bliss pooled in my groin and my cock throbbed. Precum leaked from my tip in a big enough gush that I felt it cooling on my boxers, and it would take less than nothing to get me off.

“Don’t you dare touch it,” he whispered, staring holes through me. We both knew what he was talking about.

I rushed for the door but stopped with my hand on the knob, resting my forehead against the cool wood.

“You’ll be spending all week after work making up for this,” he said casually. “Go do what I told you to do.”

“Yes, Sir,” I muttered. I should’ve told him to go fuck himself, but instead I slunk out of his office and refused to look anyone in the eye as I collected the bucket and toothbrush out of the cleaning closet and made my way outside into a boiling summer day.

4

ALBION

Despite enjoying the sight of little Wade Lee Sawyer licking my shoes, I had rules that I followed. Consent was something I never played without, even if I’d already dipped into a very gray area with Wade. Hatred in rough play was dangerous and could take the consensual fun of power play and turn it into something darker.

Abuse.

I wasn’t that type of Dom.

When the end of the day came around, I grabbed my briefcase and a piece of paper I’d written on earlier, nodded at Annie on the way out, and found Wade still outside in the burning Louisiana sun, his skin flushed and sweaty as he scrubbed at the stoop in front of the door. It appeared as though he’d done it numerous times because the cement looked brand new, and I couldn’t help but be a little impressed with his effort. The boring gray brick building would, ironically, never win any design awards, but now it was a bit improved.

He sat back on his knees, white undershirt soaked under his armpits and around his neck, and he wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. He panted, swallowing as I stopped in front of him. His lips were chapped, and sunburn made his pale cheeks slightly pinker. Part of me felt a tiny bit guilty.

I blinked at him. “Go inside and get some rest and a drink of water after I’m done speaking,” I said, and he nodded immediately in response, so easily agreeable. The submission was both irritating and entirely too attractive. “Listen to me, Shoelicker.”

He tensed and dropped the brush he had in his hand into the bucket of water before laying his palms on his thighs. He really did look every bit a sub, waiting for his Dom’s next demands.

“I’m going to go home right now, and I’m giving you a choice. I don’t like you and I never will. Traitors are nothing but pieces of shit in my book. I don’t trust you, and if I could pawn you off to some other sucker, I would.” Probably not so true now, but I didn’t mention that. I straightened my back and gripped my briefcase handle tighter. “The next thing that happens is your choice. You can go home, shower, and prepare yourself before coming to my apartment, where I will do anything I damned well please to you after discussing a safe word. Or, you can go home and stay there. In that scenario, you will come to work tomorrow, and we will never speak of this again.” I held out the piece of paper to him with my home address, and he took it hesitantly. “But if you come to my place tonight, Sawyer, I will have complete control over you. We will sign our own contract about our personal affairs, one that you will participate in because I’m not risking you turning around and accusing me of inappropriate workplace conduct⁠—”

“I wouldn’t,” Wade whispered, eyes wide. He snapped his mouth closed when I held up a hand, annoyed at his interruption.

“You will sign this contract if you want what I have to offer. When you’ve had enough of it, you will have a safe phrase you may use. But we will discuss all this if you choose to come to my apartment tonight.” I simply nodded at him. “Now get off your knees and go get a drink of water and freshen up. You stink.”

Scrunching my nose at him, I spun on my heel and stalked toward my Ford Raptor. All black, my vehicle was one possession I loved more than anything else in the world. I’d originally bought the Ford for my dad, and it was the first thing I’d ever bought him after making my own money, but he’d died a month later. His death was four years ago, but it felt like a million years since I’d seen his face. My heart still ached from the grief of losing my best friend. He’d raised me after Mom passed away from an aneurysm, and it was through him I’d learned to be proud of who I was.

Fuck. I pushed the thought of him out of my head. The only thing I should be thinking about was Wade and what I was going to do to him if he actually showed his face at my apartment.

As soon as I got home, I thought about making a mess just so Wade could clean it, which was silly because I couldn’t stand my place being anything less than perfect. So, I didn’t do a damned thing. Instead, I headed for the shower, then shaved until my chin and jaw were smooth before spritzing myself with cologne. I walked into the bedroom in only my towel and opened my closet, picking out something simple to wear. I had no intention of trying to impress Wade or force an attraction to me. Either he came crawling to me tonight or he didn’t.

I slipped on a pair of tan chino shorts and a white Henley, then walked out of my bedroom to my living room. Grumbling under my breath about whether or not I was an idiot—I was leaning toward yes—I went to my office and brought out the contract, then put it on my dining room table along with a pen.

There, now I was ready.

My apartment wasn’t the penthouse, but it sat two stories from the top of one of the tallest residential buildings in St. Loren. Even as a one bedroom with a small office, my place still cost a pretty penny, but as far as I was concerned, it was worth every dollar. Painted varying shades of gray with few personal touches, my home resembled a display apartment rather than something lived in, and that was how I liked it.

I’d always hated creating attachments, whether it was to people or possessions. The only belonging I truly considered something I would keep forever was the Ford. My ex used to accuse me of being emotionally stunted, which was nothing short of amusing. I’d warned him from the start I wasn’t interested in anything but sex and playing. He’d left me eight months after we’d met, and if he’d expected me to follow him, he’d have been sorely disappointed. I saw him sometimes at Club K with another Dom. He always shot me a smug smile, as though I was missing him and this was my punishment, and it always entertained me.

He was right in a lot of ways. I was emotionally unavailable and had been since I’d lost my best friend and dad. I’d also seen the way Dad walked through life like a ghost after Mom’s death. Loving someone meant getting hurt bad, and I refused to let that happen to me.

Rolling my shoulders, I glanced around my humble abode. This was me. Cold and impressive and immaculate, and if Wade came in and didn’t like it. . . . Well, he could leave. I had no intention of keeping the rat anyway. It was all for fun.

I rested on my powder gray leather couch and crossed my legs. I picked up my phone, but it stayed boringly quiet, and I sighed in response. I’d already made up my mind that I would give Wade until 8:00 p.m., and if he didn’t show up, then he’d made his decision.

To keep myself occupied, I texted Massimo.

Albion: Having fun tonight?

It took him only a few short minutes to reply.

Massimo: It’s a Monday night. I’m at home.

I snickered and messaged him back.

Albion: Who is she tonight?

I didn’t have to wait long before a picture came through. I wasn’t interested in women, but I also wasn’t completely against seeing them in vulnerable positions. The woman in question was a redhead with short hair that curled around her ears and jaw. She was curvy, her belly slightly rounded, with large breasts held up by a bloodred push-up bra. The camera pointed down at her, which meant Massimo was standing above, and from this angle, it was clear she only had on lingerie. She was on her knees, head tilted up, hands tied behind her back, and a ball gag in her mouth while tears clung to her long eyelashes. And the sight. . . made me all the more eager for Wade to get here. Regardless of not being into women, my cock throbbed at the image and the thought of getting my little bitch into that position, too.

Albion: Hot.

I didn’t receive a response back from Massimo, but I didn’t expect one. Massimo was a playboy with a new woman—submissive—every night. I almost felt sorry for Avery and his adorable crush on my buddy.

I sighed and leaned back against the couch, closing my eyes as I rubbed my palm over the bulge in my shorts. I didn’t do much else, though, because either Wade arrived by 8:00 p.m. or I would go to bed and jerk off.

As time slipped by, I scrolled through my phone. I checked my social media accounts, snorting as I saw some of my ex-high school friends gloating about their new accomplishments in life. It was usually the same bullshit. Babies, engagements, marriages, job promotions. The thing about these kinds of posts was that while they might not be lies, they were curated. Behind the happy smiles of engagement photos were couples arguing. Behind the cute baby photo was a crying miniature demon who kept them awake at all hours of the night. And behind that pretty beach wedding was a mountain of debt.

I snorted. Look at me, being grim, yet also realistic.

Bored and still hard as a baseball bat, I checked my phone.

8:01 p.m.

Sighing, I rose and stretched out my back. That was that. Just as I was about to head for the bedroom, the video doorbell buzzed. I smirked and walked toward the system beside my front door, then clicked the button. My doorman’s face appeared.

“Yes?” I asked in a dry tone.

“Forgive me for interrupting you so late at night, Mr. Guthrie, but I have a Mr. Sawyer here to see you. He said you were expecting him.” Mr. Callaway was a middle-aged man who’d been working in this building since it opened five years ago. With big blue eyes, long brown eyelashes, and a sharp jaw, he was cute and on this side of being hot. Asking Callaway to be my sub would’ve been a much better decision than Wade, but my curiosity had won out, especially since the Saturday night conversation with Massimo.

Spending my Sunday creating a contract of my own outside of work had been worthwhile, if you asked me.

“Send him up, Callaway,” I drawled before clicking the End Call button.

Licking my lips, I opened the door and leaned my shoulder against the frame, waiting. It only took a few moments before the elevator door opened and Wade stepped out, freezing at the sight of me. I stared at him, taking in the cheap navy suit. The attire was different from what he’d had on today, but it still made him look professional, which wasn’t what I’d been aiming for.

“Hey, Shoelicker.” I grinned smugly.

Wade rocked his weight between his feet, hands clutched in front of himself and head bowed forward. He didn’t have any other possessions with him, though I assumed he had a wallet and keys in his pants pockets. Or maybe he’d taken an Uber. The truth was that I didn’t know a lot about Wade because I’d never cared to know. I didn’t know where he lived, who his family was, or what his life was like outside of the job, and I still didn’t care.

“Sir.”

“Get inside.” I shoved up and moved out of the doorway, giving him room to enter my apartment. He reached the threshold before he paused, hesitation passing over his face. “The moment you walk in here and sign the contract, you’re mine, Sawyer. Think very carefully about what you’re going to do.”

Wade took a deep breath, and as though sealing his fate, he stepped through the door.

I smirked and crooked my finger, gesturing for him to follow, and he closed the door before trailing me across the open-plan living room to the glass dining table. The contract was spread out across the glass.

“This is the contract for our after-work play. It’s simple and direct, and it protects me from any accusations of harassment.” I tapped the paper.

“I wouldn’t accuse you of that,” he murmured, voice barely audible in the otherwise silent room.

“Speak up, Shoelicker,” I snapped.

He winced, then repeated what he’d said louder.

“Forgive me if I don’t trust you.” I crossed my arms and took a moment to assess him. He didn’t appear entirely comfortable to be here, but that wasn’t surprising. Despite his clear desire for firm words and the pleasure he received from punishment, he had the shiny-eyed innocence of someone new to the game. “The contract states what I expect of you. If you want to end a scene, you will choose a safe word to say and write it down here.” I pointed at a specific spot in the contract, waiting for his choice. “If you want to end this arrangement, a safe phrase must be used. You can write it here.” I moved my finger to the next dotted line that waited for him to write down a choice. “Read the contract carefully. No ifs or buts, am I clear? Our fun starts as soon as you sign this.”

He glanced from the pieces of paper on the table to me, then back again, and took a deep breath. “Can I sit and read, Sir?”

I blinked, actually surprised that he’d asked. Heat curled in my stomach, simmering low like molten lava, and my cock twitched, still as hard as it had been since Massimo had sent his picture. Maybe if Wade was a good boy, I would tie him up the same as that woman and send Massimo a photo back. “Yes.”

Wade pulled out a chair and sat, leaning over the contract.

Instead of standing around, I left him there and went back over to the couch, taking a seat. He would let me know when he was done, and then I was going to do some very bad things to him.

5

WADE LEE

The glass table was cool as I tapped my fingertips against it. I stared at the words on the contract in front of me, funnily enough headed up with the date and parties involved, like other traditional contracts I’d signed. But then my eyes kind of went blurry and I skimmed.

I didn’t really care what was in this contract, though I knew I should probably scour every word and commit it to memory. The truth was I didn’t have the heart to own up to any hard limits if there was a chance I was going to serve a Dom for real. I’d always wanted to play this way with someone who knew what they were doing. I needed this too much to accidentally scare Albion off by telling him I didn’t want to do something that got him rock hard.

I licked my lips and my bottom one stung where it had split open earlier today as I’d been nibbling on it.

There was a section for limits, and I shakily wrote in N/A.

Then I found the spots he’d told me to sign and put my name there. I didn’t bother adding in safe words or phrases.

I wanted this too much.

Let him destroy me and choke me with his cock. Hell, I didn’t even care if he slapped me or tied me down and used me while not letting me get off all night.

No, I needed this more than I needed air, and the more I thought about it, no price was too high. My cock pushed against my suit pants, and I squirmed on my seat, certain he would notice if I touched myself. I didn’t so much as twitch in that direction because as much as I knew I would never earn it with him, I wanted to let Albion know I was good—could be good for him.

Snatching up the contract, I slapped down the pen, then shoved back the chair.

Here we go.

Letting out a long breath, I stood on shaky legs and rushed over to the couch to hand the contract to Albion. He blinked at me in surprise, then glanced down, a frown slowly crossing his stern features. I clasped my hands together in front of myself because I wasn’t sure what he would want from me and waited, quivering, for my first order. My head spun.

What would he ask me to do?

What would he order me to do?

“What the fuck is this?” Albion asked, leaning forward to wave around the contract.

My stomach shriveled to the size of an acorn as I studied his furious face. “Uh, I signed it? Like you told me to do?” I swallowed hard.

“Yes, but I also told you to read it. There’s no way you read it in that amount of time. Plus, there are no limits written here.”

Hopelessly, I shrugged. “I don’t care about limits.”

Fury sparked in his eyes and he slapped down the contract onto the cushion at his side. “You don’t care about limits, huh?”

Part of me knew I wouldn’t enjoy what was about to happen based on his tone alone, but when he tugged on my hand, I obediently sprawled over his thighs the way he roughly directed me. I ended up draped across him, my groin snug against his lap. He pushed my shoes off my feet, and they landed with a thud on the floor that had me tensing.

“Shove your pants down,” he ordered.

My body flared white hot. I couldn’t think. I could barely breathe. I had to wrestle with my belt to make this happen, and when I got the buckle open and the fly undone, he pushed my pants down to my knees, and then a long, delicious dark sound rumbled out of his chest. “Oh, that’s nicer than anticipated.” He grabbed my left asscheek, and I bit my lip and moaned. “Do you wax?”

I didn’t say anything, but he pinched my asscheek and jumpstarted my brain. “Naturally not very hairy,” I said, shrugging and feeling stupidly happy when he hummed and rubbed his hand over my ass, which made me think way too much about my hole and how he wasn’t touching it yet.

Fuck, I needed it.

I raised my ass in the air as much as I could, and he snorted, giving it a harsh slap that drove all the oxygen out of my lungs and splayed me flat across his lap. The nudge of his thighs against my screaming hard cock made me bite my lip until I tasted blood.

“Okay, in five minutes you’re going to answer a question for me. Why do you need to tell me your limits? Think about that.”

Shifting around, I turned to frown up at Albion, but then he brought his hand down hard on the curve of my ass, right where it met my thigh. And he kept raining blows on my upper thighs, which stung and hurt in a way that almost felt like cramps. My cock didn’t go down, but I was too distracted by the building pain to do anything other than lie there. Slowly, I began to whimper, then shout as the sound of Albion’s hand meeting my skin filled the air.

Then, he moved to my ass. I shuddered as he hit me harder. He managed to smack the same spots over and over again until I was sobbing and snotty. I clawed at the couch cushion to stop myself from covering my ass with my hands.

Then, he kept going.

My ass burned in a horrible way, and I rutted my cock against his thigh in a desperate bid to distract myself. He threw an arm over my waist and held me down, then continued. The punishment went on and on until my eyesight began to gray around the edges, and finally he stopped, breathing hard, and squeezed my right asscheek brutally.

When he let me go, I shouted so loud my ears rang.

Panting, my mind spun. I could barely think at all.

“If you had a safe word picked out, you could’ve told me to stop,” he said, his breath hot as he leaned down to murmur into my ear. “If you’d told me limits, maybe you don’t like to be spanked until you’re bruised for example, I would’ve followed them exactly.”

He caressed a single finger down the curve of my left asscheek, and I moaned as tears spilled down my face.

“You know what? The only thing that saved you from being sent directly out that door is how good you were.”

My insides melted in a tidal wave of joy as I went limp across his lap, and he patted my lower back. Hell, even the muscles there were tight.

“What do you mean, Sir?” I asked. Couldn’t help it. I had to know.

He tapped my hands where they were gripping the couch cushion. “You didn’t try to fight me. You were a good boy.” His tone indicated that wasn’t something he was excited about, but the words sent a wave of delight through me anyway. My cock twitched so hard I gasped.

“Since you have no limits in place, I’m going to take a picture of this cherry red ass and send it to a friend.” He moved around, and I assumed he was dragging his phone out of his pocket. I heard the sound of the Camera app, and then he tossed his phone onto the cushion above my head. I froze inside. I knew he hadn’t taken a picture of my face, but no one had ever photographed me while in this type of vulnerable state. I bit my lip and couldn’t decide if I was terrified or delighted.

He thought I was worth taking a picture of so he could remember this. I humped against his thigh.

He chuckled. “Get on the floor between my legs. Put your hands on my thighs and don’t move them.”

Nodding, I fumbled and rolled off him because my legs wouldn’t work. I sobbed when my abused ass hit the floor, then slowly forced myself to my knees to stare at the tent in his shorts. He looked ready to pass judgment on me, so in control as he glared down, hating me, putting me where I belonged at his feet.

He’d said I was good.

Tears flowed from my eyes, and I wasn’t sure if they were from the pain in my ass or the joy of being told I’d done something right.

He opened his shorts, and I moaned at the sight. He was long and cut and the head was flushed nearly purple. I’d done that to him. I stared up at him and opened my mouth. He snorted. I wasn’t sure what he was doing at first as he groped to his right, but he lifted the contract and dropped it on my head. I snagged it down and held it with both hands.

“Read that out loud,” he said.

I stared at him, then glanced down at the contract, but my brain was so wrecked the words were a jumble when I tried to spit them out.

“I can’t,” I said, then laughed because I really couldn’t. He must think I was stupid.

Something flitted across his expression, almost amusement, before he snatched the paper away from me. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered.

“Will you take this more seriously the next time I see you?” His mouth was a thin line that I wanted to touch.

“Yes, Sir,” I breathed out, hating the reverence in my tone.

“Open up,” he demanded. “And next time follow orders. I told you not to move your hands. You won’t enjoy my punishments. You got off easy this time.”

Shocked, I did as I was told, and he shoved his cock into my mouth. I tried to lift a hand to touch him, and he slammed his over my wrists, pinning me in place against his thighs. He tasted musky and perfect, and I loved the way he stretched my lips. I let my jaw drop open, and he thrust, shoving all the way to the back of my throat. I could barely breathe, and then he went farther and I couldn’t at all. My head swam again, and spots danced in front of my eyes like starbursts. I struggled against Albion’s grip, and my cock felt as if it was something that wasn’t part of my body, needy and hungry and so close to erupting. My balls were tight, and heat ran up and down the inside of my shaking thighs.

“If you can’t take this, tap twice on my thigh,” Albion said, pulling out. I struggled to follow after his cock as it left my lips, but he grabbed my hair, dragging my head up so I made eye contact with him.

“Huh?”

He laughed and caressed my jaw, but the sound wasn’t nice, and in the end, he tugged on my lip so hard it hurt. I tasted blood from the split in my lip again. “Never mind.” He tapped his cockhead against my mouth. “Suck.”

This time I attacked, he didn’t thrust, and I treated his cockhead like a piece of candy, rolling it around with my tongue, then sucking it down until I gagged again. He hit the back of my throat once, twice, and then his cock pulsed, and I was choking on the cum rocketing into my mouth. I backed off so I could get the flavor and moaned as I swallowed everything down. Yes, I love this. When he was finished, I placed a small lick at his slit, chasing after the last few drops.

He sat back, and I admired his flushed face and felt proud of the dazed look in his dark eyes. “Get dressed,” he snapped.

Frowning, I glanced down at my hard cock, still sticking up against my belly, then back at his face. Whip fast he shot forward and gripped my jaw between his hands, squeezing until it ached.

“If you touch this—” He slapped my cock against my abs. “—I’ll know. And you don’t have the imagination to dream up the punishment I’ll give you.” He raised his eyebrows and stared directly into my soul.

“Yes, Sir.”

He watched while I pulled up my boxers and suit pants, then buckled my belt. I felt obscene as I struggled to my feet, falling once so that he was forced to grab my arms and haul me upright. I started toward the door.

“Wait.”

Albion walked after me and slid the contract into my hands. “Fill it out. Tomorrow night you will bring it to me with limits. I can pick safe words and phrases for you, but you have to fill that out.”

“What if I don’t?” I asked, feeling desperate and high, like I’d snorted cocaine. He leaned forward and stared into my eyes.

“I guess you’ll find out, if you’re brave enough.” He opened the door and shoved me out. I stumbled across the hall and smacked the wall, then slid down until my knees hit the floor. He closed and locked his door, not giving a shit about me at all. I might call him Sir, but I wasn’t someone he cared about.

My lips curled into a smile, and I brought my fingers up to play with the ache in the middle of my bottom one. When I pulled them away, there were drops of blood on my fingertips. But he’d punished me and said I was good. I knew I didn’t deserve more than this. Longing, self-hatred, and most of all a twisted, fucked-up pleasure settled into my chest where it burned bright.

I already knew I would be back tomorrow night and I wouldn’t bother filling out the contract.

6

ALBION

Everything was normal at work. I made sure of it.

Wade came in early, eager to please, and I sent him to do the dirtiest work I could find, which meant actually cleaning the toilets this time. To my pleasure, he didn’t protest. There wasn’t an ounce of distaste on his face as he immediately got to the task at hand. I hadn’t missed the peculiar glances I was getting from other staff for what I had Wade doing, but I didn’t care, either. From the start, my mission was to make Wade pay, and if they felt uncomfortable about it, that wasn’t my problem. It wasn’t as though people liked me much to begin with. I’d heard the names I’d been called behind my back—cold, unapproachable, and a prick.

When I received a message around lunchtime that the boss wanted to see me, though, hesitation and concern pinched my brain. Was Wick going to pull the plug on my torture of Wade? I really hoped not. I was enjoying this too much, especially now that he’d come to my apartment.

I made my way to the boss’s office and greeted Maurice, his personal assistant who occupied the shiny black desk in Wick’s outer office. Maurice was a handsome man, with a bearlike body and large black glasses. He was fluffy and damned adorable. He had big brown puppy dog eyes and was the softness to Wick’s sharp edges. I liked him, which was why I’d taken so much offense to Wade helping Xadrian continue his homophobic bullshit. Xadrian hadn’t only personally attacked Wick, he’d gone after Maurice, too, and that was unacceptable.

“Hello, Maurice,” I greeted with the utmost professionalism.

He gave me a wide toothy smile. “Hi, Albion. Mr. Guidry is free. You can go in now.”

I gave him a short nod and headed to the big wooden door, then knocked.

A muffled “enter” came from the other side.

I slid in and closed the door, making my way across the office to Wick’s desk.

He looked up from where he was scratching a pen over a yellow legal pad and gave me a terse smile, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his large oak desk. Next to his elbow were crullers in a pink box with Posy’s splashed across the top. I’d heard it was his favorite café. I’d yet to try the pastries, even though some of the others had raved about them. “Please, sit down, Albion.”

I did as ordered. At work was the only place I didn’t mind being told what to do. Wick was the boss, it was simple as that, but the moment I left this building, or in some cases this office, was when I took charge of everything else. “Mr. Guidry, sir.”

My gaze drifted to my left where a massive painting of an old ship filled up most of the wall. I’d never quite understood his love for anything naval, but it was nice, I supposed.

Wick cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers together. He was a handsome man, too, with big shoulders and a small waist. His dark gray suit fit him perfectly and the blue tie brought out his stormy eyes. He was the only guy I personally knew who could work his silver hair, which was longer on the top. Overall, he wasn’t my type, but he was fucking sexy.

“I think you know why you’re here,” Wick drawled, a touch of a smile curving his mouth. “How is Mr. Sawyer doing? Anything I should be concerned about?”

I shook my head immediately. “No, sir. He’s working hard.”

“From what I’ve been told, you have him doing odd jobs.” The smile stretched wider, amused. “Filthy ones, to be precise.”

I grinned widely back, though it probably looked smug to him. I’d been told nothing I ever did was considered warm. “He needs to earn our trust first before he’s allowed clients’ sensitive information.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” His eyebrows dipped in concern. “However, I’m paying him an architect’s salary and we should use his talents.” He cleared his throat. “While I am fully appreciative of his trial period on your team, it’s time we give him some work. Maybe some smaller jobs on one of your projects.”

“Do you think that’s wise, sir?” I asked, not fully ready to give up on making him do the lowest work I could find.

“If he still can’t be trusted, then maybe it’s time to knock down his wages or let him go.” He stroked his chin and stared at me. As much as I didn’t particularly like Wade, I also didn’t want to see him gone yet. We’d only just started to have real fun.

I pursed my mouth. “Some smaller jobs couldn’t hurt.”

“It’s settled, then.” Wick stood and I did as well. “If you have any issues with him or you find he’s still not trustworthy, come to me immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” I gave him a grim smile and took the last comment as a dismissal. Leaving the office, I gave Maurice a simple nod before I headed back to mine.

By the time I’d returned, Wade was already standing near Annie’s desk, his back straight and eyes alert, as though he was ready and willing to do whatever shit task I had for him next.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Sawyer, get in my office. I have a new job for you.”

* * *

After work, I went to buy some food from a Chinese takeout spot near my apartment. I got a bit of everything, which was unusual for me because I knew what I enjoyed, but I had no idea what Wade would eat. As much as I didn’t care about him, all subs needed to be fed if they were expected to perform like a dog.

I snorted at the thought.

My next stop was at a sex shop. I browsed the merchandise and smirked in triumph when I found what I was looking for. When I got home, it was almost six thirty, so I took a quick shower and washed off the day’s grime. Wade had seemed torn today about getting a new job that involved using his actual degree, but he didn’t argue when I assigned him a Monday deadline. That gave us through the weekend before I either had to ream his ass—and not in a fun way—or admit he did a good job.

I got out of the shower and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and nothing else. I had plans tonight, and the less clothing I had on, the better. After walking toward the gray marble breakfast bar in the kitchen, I grabbed the bag of Chinese food and took mine out before opening the cardboard box. Using the chopsticks they’d provided, I shoved a piece of Kung Pao chicken into my mouth and moaned at the explosion of tastes on my tongue. After chewing and swallowing a few pieces of chicken, I checked my phone.

7:05 p.m.

He was late.

I gritted my teeth and exhaled loudly through my nose. Another minute passed before the video doorbell finally buzzed. Shoulders tight in irritation, I stalked to the front door.

I hit the Answer button and didn’t even acknowledge Callaway before speaking. “Send him up immediately.”

Callaway grimaced on the small screen but nodded. “Yes, sir.” The image went blank again.

Throwing open the door, I narrowed my gaze on the elevator. Eventually, it dinged and slid open. Wade stepped out, then froze at the sight of me. He swallowed visibly, Adam’s apple bouncing, before he took slow steps toward me.

“Uh—”

“Get inside—” I threw open the door wider and gestured. “—before I put you over my knee in this hallway and spank your ass red for everyone to see.”

He shuffled past me quickly, and I swatted his ass hard enough to make him hiss. He clutched the contract between his hands, but he had nothing else. Dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt, he looked less rigid and professional than last night. A good spanking had helped him loosen up.

Smirking at the thought, I closed the door and strode in front of him, stopping him before he reached the living room. I held out my hand. “Give it to me, Shoelicker.”

He hesitated, and I wasn’t in the mood, so I snatched the contract out of his white-knuckled grip, nearly tearing it in the process. With a huff, I flipped through the document to where his limits should be, only to find it blank except for the N/A that had been there last night. I blinked, then blinked again, prickles of irritation flaring to life inside me.

I raised my chin and glared at him. “Did I not give you an order? Why are you here if you haven’t written your limits in this contract?”

His mouth twitched and he wrung his hands together. “I⁠—”

“I don’t want excuses, I want answers.” I stalked in closer to him until we were nearly chest to chest and tapped him on the forehead with the contract, making him grimace. “Tell me, my little bitch in heat, why is this not filled out? I told you to do one thing, and there are still no hard limits written on it.”

He chewed on his bottom lip and glanced around nervously. Finally, he muttered something, but even though I was close to him, I couldn’t hear what he’d said.

I gritted my teeth in annoyance. “Speak up,” I snarled.

He bowed his head. “I don’t want to put down hard limits because I don’t want you to back out.”

“Back out?” I echoed, amusement licking at the fiery hunger already burning low in my stomach. “Back out?” This time I laughed after I mimicked him and his weak tone. “You truly are pathetic.”

He shuddered, gaze sneaking up to stare at me with a searing lust.

“You’re a good for nothing piece of shit,” I murmured, watching as shivers racked his body. “I gave you one order, and you couldn’t even follow that because you were scared.”

His eyes watered, and a sick part of me loved every second. I’d never enjoyed tears, but coming from Wade Lee, they were perfect. One lone droplet slipped down his cheek. I grabbed his face, and he didn’t struggle as I leaned forward and used my tongue to trace the line the tear had trekked, the saltiness lingering on my taste buds.

“This is what you’re going to do, Shoelicker. Are you listening?” I whispered against his cheek.

He whined, then gave me a simple nod.

“You are going to write your hard limits. I will not walk away from this because of them, but I will if you do not jot them down. It protects both of us, do you understand?” I nipped at the pinkness on his cheek, and he gasped, nodding again, but this time harder.

“Yes, Sir.”

I slammed the contract against his chest and pointed to the glass dining table. “Sit your ass down and write.”

He backed away nervously, shifting his weight between his feet, before he collapsed into one of the chairs with a wince. He grabbed the pen I’d left on the table and sifted through the papers. I watched like a hawk, arms crossed as he came to the section about the hard limits, and to my pleasure, he wrote a couple of things. When he was done, with shaking hands, he passed me back the contract. I flipped through the pages, making sure he’d signed every spot.

When I finally reached the limits, I read the only two he’d written.

Defecating/urine.

Blood play.

“You don’t like bleeding?” I asked, reluctantly curious.

He winced. “I. . . . Blood scares me.” His voice wobbled as he spoke.

The words piqued my curiosity, but I didn’t question it further. I didn’t care about him, though I did wonder if someone had made him bleed against his consent. “I understand your limits and won’t exceed them.” When I turned the final page, I took note he still hadn’t written down a safe word to end a scene or a safe phrase to end our agreement. When I glanced back up at him, I raised my eyebrows.

A pink tinge filled his cheeks and he ducked his head. He tugged on a few strands of his golden hair. “I’ve never had a safe word. I’ve never needed one.”

I hummed and leaned over the table. In the section asking for a safe word, I carefully printed something my dad, a man who immigrated from England, always used to say.

Codswallop.

Then, in the phrase section I wrote⁠—

I, Wade Lee Sawyer, no longer wish to continue with this agreement.

I gave the paperwork back to him to read, and as soon as his gaze swept over the words, he let out a breath.

“That’s fine,” he whispered.

My mouth twisted to the side as I walked away from him and into my home office. I went to the printer and made a copy of the documents, then came back afterward, handing it to him. “Keep it someplace safe.”

He chewed on his bottom lip as he glanced down at the document, golden eyelashes fluttering across heated cheeks. “Thank you, Sir.”

“I want to make it clear that I don’t have plans to use condoms each time I fuck you. If I feel like it, I will. If not, I won’t. Do you understand that?” I tried not to glare because I wanted him to fully engage with this discussion.

“Yes, Sir,” he said, fidgeting a little.

“Do you need me to wait on fucking you raw to accommodate your desire to take PrEP or for any other reason?” I was drifting toward sounding mean but didn’t care.

“No, Sir.”

Well, hell, that was good enough for me. I shrugged and walked around the table to grab the paper bag of Chinese food. Dropping it on the glass in front of him, I grunted. “Eat. You’re going to need your strength for what I’m about to do to you, Sawyer.”

His tongue swiped over his top lip and he moved, ever so carefully, to open the bag as if he’d expected a bloodied clown with an axe to jump up and murder him. I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped from me, and while he gave me a frown, he hesitantly took a box and pulled it out.

I ignored him as I went back to the breakfast bar and continued to eat my chicken.

He kept glancing at me, concerned, as he ate the sweet-and-sour pork he’d chosen with his chopsticks. We ate mostly in silence, and when I was done, I rose and threw the empty container in the kitchen garbage can. He did the same, movements jittery like he expected me to explode at him. The pleasure of his fear had my cock growing where it was not-so-trapped in my sweatpants.

He glanced down, cheeks staining pink, and threaded his fingers in front of himself, head bowed as though he was mine to do what I wanted with, and that was the case.

He was mine.

The thought sent a searing hot need spiraling through me. I wanted to consume him until he only knew my touch and my harsh words. I craved for him to be both scared and hot for every order that slipped from my mouth. I could do anything I wanted to him, and I was going to enjoy every long second of it.

In this world, away from work, I wasn’t his supervisor. I was his Dom now, whether he understood that or not.

“I have a present for you.” I reached across the breakfast bar to grab the bag from the sex shop and handed it to him with a smug smile.

His gaze jumped from the bag to me, then back again, before he held out a shaking hand and took it. A small, concerned breath escaped him as he pulled the bag open and looked inside. The moment he saw the toy, his eyes widened.

I held in the urge to laugh at his reactions. I’d never quite met anyone who was so open with how they felt. “You’re my bitch in heat tonight, Sawyer. So, you’ll wear that.”

I expected some pushback, an argument, but all he did was give me a short nod in answer as he tugged out the butt plug with a long fluffy dog tail attached. He flushed as I grabbed a pair of scissors and opened up the packaging.

“I. . . . Sir. . . .”

I shook my head, effectively cutting off whatever he was going to say. “You do nothing tonight but make doggy sounds, am I clear?” I grabbed his face between my fingers and pressed tightly, and he winced. “Because you’re good for nothing but being my bitch. You’ll spread your legs when I tell you to, am I clear?”

He whimpered but made a whining sound that could’ve easily been a dog.

I grinned and patted him on the head. “Good boy.”

That pulled out the same reaction as all my insults. He shivered, eyes going wide, and one glance down toward his cock told me he was rock hard in his pants, the bulge obvious in those tight jeans.

Interesting. He really did equally enjoy degradation and praise. I’d have to talk to Massimo about this, ask him if he’d ever come across a sub like Wade.

“Go into my room over there.” I pointed in the direction of my sliding bedroom door. “There’s lube in the top right drawer. I want you to work yourself open and have this plug in you by the time I get in there. Am I clear, you little bitch?”

He let out a harsh pant and nodded sharply.

“Go.” I waved my hand impatiently, and he went without another word, sliding open the door that led to my bedroom before closing it fast, as though he was embarrassed about me seeing what he was going to be doing. If only he knew all the plans I had for him. I wasn’t usually into puppy play, but I would make an exception for times like this. It couldn’t hurt to make him my bitch in heat occasionally, along with many other delightful games.

I grabbed my phone and messaged Massimo.

Albion: Remember how I mentioned Sawyer? Yeah, got a thing happening with him. He’s here. Contract signed.

I snorted and messed around on social media for a few minutes before he replied.

Massimo: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Actually, fuck that. Have fun.

Grinning, I stood and rolled out the kinks in my shoulders. I dropped my phone back on the breakfast bar before I headed toward my bedroom, my cock hard at the thought of what I was going to walk in on.

I wasn’t disappointed.

The moment I slid open the door, I found Wade on my bed, legs spread and an arm stretched behind himself as he slowly pushed the plug into his lubed ass. He paused at my interruption, eyes wide, and continued with his assignment until the plug had his rim spread.

My mouth watered, hungry for a taste of his sweetness. But no, he wasn’t sweet. He was someone who went along with a homophobic plot to harm our boss and his boyfriend, and now look at him. The worst kind of fucking hypocrite.

“You’re starving for my cock, aren’t you? A little slut with a tight, greedy hole.”

A whine left his mouth and he spread his legs wider, glancing at me from over his shoulder. Tears flooded his eyes.

“Look at you,” I whispered, stepping closer to the bed. “Nothing but a whore. A bitch in heat, begging for something wide in his ass.” I reached across to palm his bruised asscheeks, and he shuddered. “You tried to help your bastard friend destroy Wick with your homophobia, and now look at you.”

“I’m not homophobic,” he argued, raising his head.

I slapped him hard across the right cheek of his ass, and he hissed. “Don’t speak. What did I tell you, Shoelicker?”

He whined in response, very much like the dog I’d instructed him to be.

I grabbed the black-and-white tail and tugged it playfully, causing him to let out a hiss as the width of the plug pulled at his rim. His ass had a nice swell to it, and while it wasn’t exactly a bubble butt, it wasn’t flat, either. I couldn’t help but admire the globes. His back curved, the bumps of his spine more visible as he bent it, and his ass was in the air, like he was begging me to fuck him.

He really was a slut.

I grinned and slapped his left asscheek this time, earning a gasp in response. Redness in the shape of my hand splashed across his bruised pale skin, and I watched as it grew darker with every passing second. Perfect.

“My bitch in heat,” I murmured, scraping my fingers over the goose bumps that rose on the warm skin of his asscheeks. “So eager to please.”

He whined and rocked back against me, and I laughed. I stepped away from him and the bed, then dumped my sweatpants onto the floor, leaving my cock free to bounce and slap against my thigh. Wrapping my hand around it, I stared at him and the way his ass blossomed red. There were so many things I wanted to do to him that I began making lists in my head of all the toys I needed to buy.

“Are you a good boy?” I whispered, loud enough for him to hear. “Or are you a bad boy?”

He gasped, rocking his hips. His cock bounced between his legs and a blush spread across his face as he turned to look at me. The tail stood up and every time he moved his hips, it swayed.

“Hm.” I stepped forward, stroking myself lazily. “Spread your legs, doggy. Just a little.”

He exhaled sharply as I slid onto the bed behind him, but he did what I’d ordered almost immediately. I grabbed his right thigh before he moved it too far and squeezed it, fingernails digging crescent-shaped indents into his creamy skin.

I chuckled. “Look at you. Such a good slut. The perfect whore, aren’t you?”

He moaned and rocked back toward me, the tip of my cock slapping the top of his ass.

“A traitorous whore. You deserve to be punished for what you did to our boss,” I growled out, my tone turning harsher. “Don’t you, bitch?”

He whimpered, shivering. Even his thighs trembled. He was so easy to rile up.

I grabbed the lube from the bed where he’d dropped it and squeezed some onto my cock. Once there was enough, I closed the lid again and threw it to the side. This was going to be so tasty. I spread the slick across my length. When I was satisfied, I shuffled closer to his behind, and he sucked in a breath. I held in a laugh. I knew what he was expecting—me to fuck him—but I wasn’t going to give it to him. No, he didn’t deserve it.

I slid my cock between his upper thighs, then grabbed the meaty flesh and squeezed them together tighter so they wrapped greedily around my sensitive length. My cock rubbed underneath his, and he was hard as a fucking rock.

“What—”

“Shh!” I hissed harshly, making his jaw snap closed again. “Bitches in heat don’t talk.”

He sucked in another breath as I began to move, rocking my hips to get the friction and tightness of his thighs pressed against my cock. His erection twitched against mine, but I ignored it, focused on chasing my own pleasure. The tail tickled my abs, the fake fur brushing across my skin, and it only added to the sultry sensation.

Fingernails digging into the skin on his waist, I smirked as I snapped my hips forward. “Mm. I’m going to come all over your pretty thighs, bitch. Don’t you come. If you do, I’ll send you out the front door naked except for that plug in your ass.”

He whined, thighs still shaking as I used them for friction on my cock. I thrust like I was in his ass instead, and my cock jerked. Hell, I’d basically been hard all day, and finally, I was getting much needed relief. I didn’t think this was going to last long. The entire situation was too perfect. The sounds he made teased me and filled the room along with the scent of his sweat and cologne mixing together to create a harmony of addicting smells. He was a contradiction in every way—a traitor, yet took orders well, craved degradation and praise, sweet but bitter, loud yet also silent.

Wade Lee was a puzzle I wanted to solve.

Then there were his thighs, sculpted by some god to torture me. Muscular and soft at the same time, they were a temptation that created the perfect friction, and as pleasure built at the base of my spine, I knew I wouldn’t last long.

Wade’s body trembled and he groaned. Wetness joined in the mess of my precum as he came, and as much as I wanted to say something witty, I was too lost in the growing orgasm that snuck up on me.

I rocked into the grip of his legs, my length brushing against Wade’s twitching one, before I let loose. My cock jerked and a rush of pleasure hit me like a speeding semi. I cursed through my release, then unleashed a mantra of “fucking little slut, look what you did” and “my bitch in heat” over and over again until I drifted back to reality.

Wade collapsed on the bed, panting, his body flailing all over the place. The tail swayed as he shifted his ass and groaned, and my guess was that he’d landed in some of his cooling cum. Well, too bad for him.

I rose and walked to the attached bathroom to grab a towel and get it wet. First, I cleaned myself up, and then I went back to the bed. I was careful extracting the plug from him, ignoring the sinful sounds he made as I did. I washed the lube off his ass and cleaned down his thighs where my cum painted his skin.

I moved him around, and he went, limbs loose like a wet noodle. I rolled him on his back into a clean spot on the bedding and washed his abs and cock, and then I went to get him a glass of water. When I came back, I helped him sit up so he could take small, delicate sips. I watched his face for any signs of a sub drop, but none materialized. His cheeks were pleasantly flushed and he seemed with it, not still lost chasing a high.

He gave me an exhausted smile.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

I snorted. “Don’t thank me. Get up, get your clothes on, and leave.”

I knew better than this and guilt churned in my gut. He deserved to be treated with the best aftercare possible, yet when I looked at him, I saw nothing but his betrayal. I didn’t want to do all those sweet things for him.

He blinked open his eyes and stared at me, confused. “Wha⁠—”

“Out. Now.” I waved my hand toward the open door of the bedroom. “I am not your boyfriend, Sawyer. Get the fuck out. Tomorrow, we work like normal, and then you’ll come back tomorrow night.”

He frowned harder, slowly sitting. “I don’t understand.”

I laughed loudly and went to throw the dirty towel in the bathroom laundry basket. When I came back, he’d moved to the edge of the bed, kneading his hands together nervously. “What is there not to understand? You’re my bitch. My shoelicker. My traitorous little slut. Nothing more. Get your clothes and get the fuck out.”

I didn’t miss the hurt that passed over his face, but he jutted out his chin and rose on shaky legs. “Yes, Sir.”

I watched him work to pull on his clothing as fast as he could. A few times he nearly tripped in his haste, but when he was fully dressed, he hustled toward the front door. He gave me one final glance over his shoulder, and I grinned at him before he left.

I was many things. Cold, as my ex said. Emotionally stunted. A control freak. But I wasn’t completely heartless, and a small part of me felt bad for kicking him out so fast. He tried to destroy Émeraude Technologies. I forced myself not to care. If he didn’t want this, he had a safe phrase he could use.

7

WADE LEE

I wanted to hold on to these awful emotions, the ones that made me feel like dying. They were good. And terrible. What the hell is wrong with me?

Sighing, I walked in the dark from the bus stop to the front door of the small shotgun house my brother rented on the edge of town. The bag of food I had in my hand wasn’t the healthiest, and he should be eating better, but I wasn’t exactly rolling in dough. Neither was he, which was why I’d grabbed the McDonald’s to begin with.

Sucking in a deep breath, I knocked on the door as a spacey sensation flowed through my body. Albion had mindfucked me tonight, which had rocked me way more than if he would’ve shoved his dick in me. I squeezed my asscheeks together and the ghost sensation of having something stuffed in my hole made me dizzy. I shook myself all over as the porch light turned on and the door opened.

My brother, Neil, stood with one arm resting on the doorjamb, and I felt bad for him. There were bags under his eyes that made him look as if he’d been punched, and his short blond hair was everywhere. The vivid red scar in the center of his chest from his heart surgery was still a bold slash against his pale skin, but he stood there without a care in the world in his jeans and nothing else. An unlit cigarette dangled out of the corner of his mouth.

With a growl, I snatched the cigarette and threw it. “You’re not supposed to be doing that!”

He shrugged and grabbed the bag of food from me. “So?”

I wanted to rant at him because I felt like a jar full of shaken bees right now, but I didn’t. Instead, I followed him inside. The first thing that hit me was a terrible odor.

“What is that stench?” I asked, glancing wildly around the tiny living room, which was nothing more than a couch with a TV jammed against the far wall. I followed my nose into the kitchen and grimaced. The scent was obviously coming from somewhere in here. This room was equally cramped with barely any counter space. Thankfully there was a window over the sink or it would be a dungeon.

“You work in a restaurant!” I glared at the sink stacked full of dishes and the garbage can that was a couple of candy bar wrappers away from overflowing.

When I turned to glare at him and cross my arms, he shrugged. “Yeah, that’s why I don’t want to do this shit at home.” He flopped down on the couch and pulled a burger out of the bag I’d handed him.

“You are a chef!” I shook my head and scowled at the awful mess.

“Cook,” he corrected with a mouthful of food making the words almost unintelligible.

Rolling my eyes, I stomped toward the sink and started shifting around dishes so I could wash them. I felt ready to come apart at the seams as I did the manual labor, which was generally soothing—though tonight moving my body around did nothing except remind me of how I’d been used. The small aches and pains were delicious. I needed to hurry home and get started on the work Albion had given me today, but I hadn’t been involved in any of the planning meetings, so I wasn’t really sure what he wanted.

It was frustrating.

He’d set me up for failure, though I wasn’t certain he realized it.

As soon as the kitchen was sparkling clean and smelling like the apple soap I’d found on the counter, I finally walked back into the living room to find Neil on the couch staring at the TV as he flipped through channels. He looked as miserable as I felt.

“So, you’re going to be mad at me,” he said quietly.

With a sigh, I picked up the garbage from the food I’d brought him and took it to the kitchen to toss it into the freshly emptied can.

“Why is that?” I called.

“I’m going to quit this job.”

I froze, then walked back out to him, staring at his lanky body draped over the couch. “What? What about your health insurance?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “It isn’t any good, anyway. That’s why you have to keep helping me out.”

My head throbbed and I was sure it would pop off my body. “No,” I whispered. “It’s better than nothing!”

He shot up off the couch and stormed toward me scowling. “I hate that fucking restaurant. Fancy French food prepared by people who’ve never left St. Loren while Geoffe rakes in the cash. Fuck that. I’m quitting. I’ll get a new job first. Don’t worry about giving me money.” He shoved me aside so he could get out to the kitchen, and I stumbled against the wall.

“That isn’t the point. This is your fourth job this year!”

He shrugged and stared around the kitchen with a sour pout. “So what?”

“So, it looks bad. If you want to get a better job you can’t bounce around. You should stay. Please, don’t do this.” I grabbed his shoulder, and he shook me off.

He snorted. “Last I heard, your job situation was a nightmare. Who are you to talk?”

My face scalded hot and I stomped toward the front door.

Neil laughed. “Run away, you baby. Like you always do when I’m right!”

I flipped him off and slammed his front door behind myself, then stood outside on the stoop, pushing my hands against my bruised ass. The cleansing pain that pinged through me from the mild injuries gave me the energy to get to the bus stop, then to my apartment. I was completely exhausted by the time I was in my own cramped living room, which barely had space for me to walk between the coffee table and the couch.

I grabbed my laptop and fired it up for the first time in a long while, and my fingers shook as I logged in. What had Albion told me to do? Oh, right. It wasn’t anything fantastic. He’d asked me to render the designs they were presenting to a client in a couple of different styles. He had the best one done already, the one they wanted to sell the client on. This was busy work, just to provide some options on topical changes. I let out a long breath. This was easy. I’d done a lot of the work when I was on Xadrian’s team because he’d thought of himself more as a big picture thinker. He was the king and the rest of us were the peons who did his bidding—which meant he hadn’t actually done much at all.

I settled in for a long night, sickly happy to be doing anything Albion told me—especially since I knew exactly how to do this. Okay, so maybe I didn’t need to be so afraid about work. My heart began to beat faster as I opened files. What if he hated this, though?

Shrugging off the nerves, I focused because I could do this. I might be a fuckup in literally every other part of my life, but this wasn’t a mystery. I smiled and slid down to the floor, then hissed, but kept right on working.

As I went through the familiar motions with the file I was signed in to, my access abruptly cut off. I stared at my computer screen and started frantically trying to log back in, but nothing happened. I stared, open-mouthed, then groaned.

“Shit,” I grumbled. “Maybe if I restart the computer?”

I did everything I could. I restarted. I tried to log in again.

Nothing. I kept getting an error screen.

Biting my lip, I grabbed my phone and texted Albion.

Wade: The work network is fucking up.

My lip hurt from the way I’d been furiously chewing on it when I got a text back.

Albion: Don’t lie to me.

Anger scrambled through me, and I was humiliated when tears started to trickle out of the corners of my eyes. Roughly, I wiped them away, then took a photograph of my screen and sent it to him.

Albion: Come here tomorrow morning. I will figure it out.

I stared at my phone and my heart did cartwheels. He was going to help? He didn’t sound mean or anything. I didn’t trust this turn of events, especially after he’d kicked me out like I was trash tonight, but a small swell of hope that I hadn’t felt in forever burst to life in my chest.

Wade: Thank you, Sir.

I didn’t get a response back, but I decided to call it an early night anyway so I could be fresh and get to Albion’s place along with the sunrise. I would make sure he didn’t have a single reason to be upset with me. . . and maybe he would ask me to stay longer tomorrow night.

8

ALBION

Sometimes—most of the time—I worked out my surplus anger through exercise. Whether that was fucking or jogging on a treadmill depended on who, or if, I had anyone in my apartment with me.

This morning, I had to stick with my legs burning as I chased the twenty-mile goal on the screen of my treadmill, sweat dripping down my face and the lines of my back as my chest heaved. Three hours came and went, and by the time I’d decided I was done, my body ached in all the best and worst ways, and I forced myself to get into the shower and wash off the stickiness. I’d gotten up around two in the morning, not able to fully sleep, and my thoughts had traveled to Wade and his penchant for being a pain in the ass. Yet, I’d enjoyed the way he’d trembled beneath me and how he’d come undone, nothing more than languid limbs after I’d had fun with him.

I shook my head and got through my shower as quickly as possible before I dressed in my gray suit for work. It was still only about five thirty, but I’d told Wade to come over to my place this morning, and I suspected he’d be here soon because we were normally at work around eight. I didn’t know where he lived, but I assumed it wasn’t in the city like me.

I made food—oatmeal with strawberries—and opened my laptop on the breakfast bar in the kitchen. Sliding onto a stool, I shoved a spoonful of oatmeal into my mouth as I tried to log in to my work profile, only for it to not go through. Irritation prickled over my skin, and I grabbed my phone immediately. I didn’t care if it was too early.

I found the contact info for one of our IT guys in my phone and tapped on it roughly.

It took six tries before Holliday answered. “Sir?” His scratchy voice told me I’d woken him. Good.

“Why is the log-in system not working?” I snapped. Taking a deep breath, I focused on softening my tone. Pissing off Holliday wouldn’t help, and the last thing I wanted was to be reported to HR. It wasn’t Holliday I was pissed at, but rather Wade for being so damned fucking submissive, because he was all I could think about since last night. “Holliday, I have employees on my team who wish to complete work and are unable to because the log-in system isn’t functional. Could you tell me what the issue is?”

Holliday grunted sleepily, and there was shuffling in the background. I heard a soft male voice that wasn’t Holliday and the harsh whisper of “it’s too early in the morning, Hol. Tell him to fuck off.”

Holliday shushed him before his focus returned to me. “Sir, it’s not even six in the morning and⁠—”

“Fix it immediately. You can check it remotely, can’t you?” I pushed, not willing to let someone tell me no.

“Uh. . . yes?” It sounded more like a question than a resolute answer, and I smirked. “Uh, yes, I can. It’s just that⁠—”

“I’m sure the boss, Mr. Guidry, will be very happy when I tell him you fixed this issue for me immediately. I would even suggest you for Eric’s job after he leaves. You have heard he’s moving away to Washington, haven’t you? He just got married, and his new wife wants to live closer to her family. So, his position will be available, and Mr. Guidry is already on the lookout for a new tech manager.”

A powerful fire burned in my stomach as manipulation twisted on my tongue like it was a ballad. I craved dominance in all areas of my life—in my career and at home—and I’d been so good at keeping it under wraps until now. Until Wade. He brought out a monster in me that I could no longer contain beneath the surface because he’d fed it, and now it wanted freedom.

The silence on the other end of the phone echoed in my ear before finally Holliday cleared his throat. “I’m on it, sir.”

“Thank you.” I ended the call and rolled my shoulders, pleasure curling inside me.

I spent another hour going through physical reports that I’d brought home with me before my video doorbell went off. I told the night-shift doorman to let Wade come up, and a few minutes later there was a knock on my door. I opened it immediately and waved my hand toward the breakfast bar.

“Sit over there. Don’t touch anything, don’t read anything.” I stopped to make a show of giving him a slow once-over; although, I hated how much the suit covered his body. Humming, I grabbed my phone from my pocket and texted my favorite tailor for an emergency appointment. If Wade was going to be my sub, no matter how trivial this relationship was, I would only have him dressed in the best. I wanted the style of suit that showed off the lines of his long legs and flat belly, clothing that would allow me to appreciate his body while we were at work so I could imagine what I was going to do to him later.

If I told Massimo all this, he would inform me that I was being sentimental, but this wasn’t for Wade. This was to fulfill my desire for my property to look good for my eyes only. I enjoyed knowing that my man was pretty and desirable, and beneath that baggy, dull white dress shirt was a semidecent chest that deserved to be worshiped.

Wade went straight over to the breakfast bar the way I’d ordered and sat on one of the stools I wasn’t occupying with his hands in his lap. He gazed directly ahead. His back stayed straight, and everything about his posture screamed submissive.

Had he played before? He hadn’t volunteered any information. I wanted to know, yet I didn’t ask him. I wouldn’t.

I made a sound of approval, and Wade’s shoulders wriggled, surprising a smirk from me. I shifted closer to him and leaned forward, my breath dancing across the skin on the back of his neck, and he trembled. Goose bumps prickled over his neck, and I watched with interest as they spread across his pretty pale flesh.

“Mm. You’re a good boy, aren’t you, my little bitch?” I murmured.

He let out a small audible breath but didn’t speak.

“You tried to do work for me last night. I appreciate the effort. It’s a lot more than other employees do.” I pushed some more praise, curious about his reaction.

I peeked over his shoulder at his hands, which shook in his lap. He curled his fingers around his knees and kept his gaze straight, but I didn’t miss the bulge in his pants. Judging by the size, he was already half hard and ready to please me any way he could. But I wasn’t going to give him that opportunity. No.

“What’s this?” I reached around him and cupped his bulge, and he hissed. “Do you like it when I call you a good boy?”

He whimpered and exhaled.

“Well? Answer me,” I demanded.

His eyelashes fluttered as he nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hm.” I leaned closer to his ear, tongue darting out to lick the shell. “What if I said you were nothing more than a fucking little slut? You’re good for nothing but getting off. Your hole’s the only useful thing about you.”

His dick twitched against my hand, and a laugh slipped from my mouth.

“Look at you.” I squeezed the bulge and studied the way his mouth parted in needy pants. “Fucking desperate for it.”

“Sir, I⁠—”

“Shut up,” I ordered, and his mouth snapped closed. He glanced toward me, eyes wide and fearful, and that did something nice to me. Pleasure coiled in my stomach. I flicked my tongue out to trace his ear again, and the small whimpers that left him had my cock raging. I pictured bending him over the breakfast bar and fucking into him, finally, but I wanted to drag this out as long as I could for the simple joy of it. “Shut the fuck up.”

He shuddered and gripped his knees so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His gasps were small and needy and so fucking perfect.

My phone chose that moment to jingle, and I grabbed it, smiling when I saw Holliday’s name on the screen. I answered it. “Yes, Holliday? Tell me it’s fixed.”

“Should be, yes, sir. It looks like Mr. Baranov had set up a time limit on Sawyer’s account for some reason. He did that several weeks ago. Maybe it was an accident? Anyway, I went ahead and cleared that out. He should be good to go now. Yours was just a. . . . Well, it would take too long to explain, but there were several people who needed to have updates on their accounts. You saved me a lot of upset phone calls later.” He sounded sheepish.

“Good job.” I traced my gaze over the back of Wade’s neck and the bumps spread across his skin. It took a lot of effort to resist the urge to reach out and scrape my nails over them.

“Sir, would you put in a good word⁠—”

I ended the call and threw my phone back on the marble counter, making Wade jump in surprise. He straightened his back and licked his lips but didn’t look at me.

“IT has fixed the problem. Maurice was making sure that you weren’t poking around in the system without anyone knowing, I think. Did you bring your computer?”

He risked a glance at me and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. You have an hour before we need to head for the office. Get to it.” I winked at him before I took the stool beside him. Ignoring the long stare he gave me, I focused on my computer and attempted to log in. It worked.

Clearly sensing I had no other plans to play with him, Wade brought out his laptop from his messenger bag and opened it. From the corner of my eye, I watched him as his nimble fingers danced across the keyboard, precise and elegant. The project I had given to him wasn’t one of our most important, but it wasn’t easy, either. Part of me wanted to know if he could handle it, and from what I could see from my seat, he knew what the ultimate goal was with the smaller company who’d approached us for help.

Pride swelled in my chest before I realized what I was feeling and tamped it down. This was still Wade Lee, the traitor, and I wasn’t going to give him anything more than he was owed. Except. . . .

“Listen to me very carefully, Shoelicker.” I turned toward him on my stool, and he straightened again, hands going immediately to his knees, as though this was now his submissive position. Attentive. Obedient. “Before you arrive at work, I want you to go to a tailor’s shop by the name of Sew Much Better Than the Rest. If you’re late to work, it’s fine because I’m ordering you to do this. The shop is close to the Pleasure District. There’s a tailor there by the name of Indy. Ask him to get five suits ready for you. Colors that will look good on you.”

Wade’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “I can’t⁠—”

“Tell him to put it on my card. He has it on file,” I interrupted him pointedly. “This isn’t for you, little slut, this is for me. I won’t have my sub walking around in a suit so subpar.” I paused to rake my gaze over his body and the clothing he wore. “I enjoy eye fucking my sub, and I can’t do that when you have something that doesn’t even fit you correctly. Indy is good at what he does, and I want to see his suits on you.”

Wade hesitated, then gave me a curt nod. “Yes, Sir.”

“You can also thank the boss’s assistant and boyfriend, Maurice, the next time you see him. He’s the one who recommended Indy to me.”

He nodded again. “Yes, Sir.”

There wasn’t much else to say. Wade was being a very good boy this morning. I rose from my stool and laid my hands on his shoulders. I studied his work carefully, taking mental note of the way he shivered with desire under my touch. His responsiveness did something to me, and heat filled my chest as the need to take him to my bedroom and do dirty things to him doubled. But no. I wanted to make him desperate for it before I finally gave in. I was going to take control of Wade’s life in ways he’d never known existed, and it was going to be all for me and the control I craved.

By the time I was done, Wade would be my sub—full stop. And that started with learning everything about him.

9

WADE LEE

I paced in front of the wide front window that let me look into the sleek interior of Sew Much Better Than the Rest while rubbing the thumbnail of my left hand with my right one, using it as a bizarre worry stone. Such a peculiar sensation was twisting around in my guts, and I wasn’t certain if it was good or bad. I could barely breathe.

My messenger bag bumped against my hip as I turned away along the sidewalk, not sure if I was heading down the street to the bus stop or simply making another loop while I continued to think. I was so out of it that I nearly smacked into a wrought iron lamppost. The humid morning air tugged at my breath. It took me five minutes to pace to the bus stop, then toward the front of the shop again. I got close to the door this time before I turned away.

This was just so strange.

Who wanted to buy me suits? Expensive suits? No one ever spent money on me.

Maybe Albion was messing with me, and I would go in there and get everything set up and then. . . what? I didn’t know. Be stuck with the bill? I certainly couldn’t afford the thousands of dollars for those suits. Panic began to crescendo in me until I felt like my skin might vibrate right off my body. I rubbed my thumbnail so fast it felt warm, then stopped abruptly on the sidewalk before swinging around to turn back and look at the shop again. The sun peeked through clouds overhead and gleamed brightly on the glass, beckoning me inside. I bit my lip until it ached.

Maybe this was a reward?

But Albion hadn’t even fucked me yet, and he hadn’t said the clothes were a reward. I wish I knew how this BDSM stuff worked. I had a lot of ideas and had seen a few bad movies on the topic, but I’d never done this. Maybe it was normal for a Dom to buy their sub clothing? I wished there was someone I could ask. Was this how these things went? My stomach twisted, and I thought maybe I should eat the breakfast bar in my bag, but I gagged at the mere idea.

Xadrian hadn’t even bought me dinner without keeping tabs on how much I owed him—and that was a rare occurrence. Granted, we’d had a weird dynamic that wasn’t anything as defined as what was happening with Albion. Sometimes I was pretty sure Xadrian hated me.

My feet carried me closer to the front door of the shop while the rest of me fought to scrabble away. Albion wanted me to look nice for him, right? Wasn’t that what he’d said? Warmth that settled into my chest had me smiling for a few seconds. But the money. . . . There’s no way in hell the man who calls me Shoelicker really wants to spend piles of cash on me. This had to be some sort of test.

And I’m failing right now. I should leave.

Decision made about Albion’s motivations, I whirled away from the door and stormed toward the bus stop. My heart spun faster than the clunky pace of the wheels on the bus as I sat stiffly on the seat during the ride to the office. My skin felt too tight and my eyes were hot. My nose clogged as I continued to spiral. I hated disobeying, but Albion couldn’t have actually wanted to buy me suits. Maybe what he really meant was I should try to dress nicer with clothing I already owned. I ran a hand over my face. Yes, that had to be it.

The office should’ve been nice today, since I was doing real work, but all morning while I sat with my back to the wall on the floor of Albion’s office, I felt like my body was going to shake apart. My heart jackhammered in the base of my throat. It was exhausting keeping a blank mask on my face. Guilt, so heavy it made me feel sick, clung to my insides as I finished the assignment Albion had given me early.

“This is acceptable,” Albion said quietly as he reviewed my work at his desk right before lunch, and I let out such a huge sigh of relief he cracked a tiny smile.

The guilt got worse, not better. “Thank you, Sir,” I murmured.

He nodded and his dark eyebrows danced up and down. He reached out and almost touched my hip but aborted the motion last second. With him leaning closer, his cologne swirled into my nose, and the crisp fresh scent had sparks racing around in my groin, perking up my cock.

I wanted to melt into a puddle of contented goo because it sure seemed like he was happy with me, but I knew better than to let myself do that. It would be nice to fall to the floor and nuzzle my face against his thigh and just wallow in his presence.

“Okay,” he said, sliding my laptop back in my direction. For a second, I thought he might reach out and touch me for real, but then he turned back to his laptop. Disappointment sank its fangs into me, and I rubbed at my left thumbnail with my fingertip. He grabbed my wrist, and I glanced up into his intense face.

“You’ll sit in on the client meeting this afternoon and take some notes for me,” he said, eyelids hooded. Now this I could tell was a real test.

I nodded once. “Yes, Sir.”

“And when we’re finished, you’ll ride back to my place with me.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said again, and I couldn’t hold in my happy sigh.

His lips twitched, but he didn’t say anything, maybe because we were at work.

He pointed at the end of his desk. “Get a chair. Work there until it’s time for the meeting.”

“Yes, Sir,” I murmured, stuck in a loop.

The look he gave me wasn’t exactly nice, but it wasn’t mean, either.

I held in a smile and rushed to do as he’d said. As I hurried around the desk and pulled the chair to the spot he’d indicated, his expression closed down, but I didn’t care because I knew right now I was doing what he wanted without any confusion. I felt very delighted with my small success.

There was nothing better than knowing I was doing exactly what would make him happy.

The day flew by with a minimum of fuss.

Albion continued to be pleased with my behavior through lunch and the meeting—at least, as far as I could tell. I took the notes he asked for, and Mr. Wheaton, an older gentleman with slicked-back steely blond hair, seemed to like me well enough and even shook my hand before he left.

“You’re doing good work here,” Mr. Wheaton said to Albion, though he included me in the statement before he tugged at his cuff links and left at a fast clip. His assistant flashed us a bright smile and hustled after him, tapping at an iPad as she went.

All in all, it was what I would classify as a good workday, except for the guilt that crept back to settle into my gut when I had nothing else to think about. It was after six o’clock by the time I climbed into Albion’s truck and slumped on the passenger seat.

Albion began to drive and snagged his sunglasses out of the console before slipping them on his face. The wheels went over a small bump as he took the truck out of the parking lot onto the street. I bit my bottom lip because he looked even sexier with the dark lenses than he usually did.

“What do you normally eat?” he asked, then swore and braked hard because someone slowed and turned without a signal.

Pure panic dug around in my guts, easily stirred up since it had been hanging around inside me all day. This was a real conversation. Hell, what should I say? Damn it, I had no idea.

“Well?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His jaw went hard and stood out sharply, and I hated that I could see him getting annoyed with me. I didn’t want to make him unhappy—just the opposite.

“Uh.” I shrugged. “Whatever’s on sale at the grocery store.”

He puffed out his cheeks with a deep breath. “Fine, but what do you prefer?”

I ran my hands along my thighs, plucking at the fabric. There hadn’t been many chances to be picky in my life. What should I say? “I don’t know.”

He sighed.

Panic washed through me again, tightening my abs until they ached. “Um, I like chicken Alfredo and chicken tetrazzini.”

“Those are pretty similar. Heavy sauces, too. Italian, then?” He glanced at me quickly before returning his attention to the road.

I laced my fingers together on my lap and squeezed them until my knuckles ached. “I guess.”

He grunted.

“What?” I asked, staring at him.

He shook his head and pursed his lips. “I want you to have some opinions.”

I crossed my arms and hugged myself. What does that mean? I glared at him out of the corner of my eye, then jumped when I realized he was watching me.

He snorted. “What? You have something to say, so say it.”

“No, you don’t,” I said, turning slightly toward him.

He laughed. “I do. I don’t want to play with a cardboard cutout. I want someone fun. That means opinions. If I wanted to fuck a spineless sex doll, I would’ve already had one.”

With a slow inhale, I cupped my hands to my cheeks. Well, I didn’t think I was very fun, so this was probably doomed. “Okay.”

There was no missing his eye roll, and my stomach dove. I was messing this up, and I wasn’t really sure how to get back on track. We barely spoke to each other, except for simple commands from Albion. Things like “get out” and “follow me” and “try to be less of a fucking nuisance.”

I spent the rest of the ride battling hyperventilation. Once we were inside his apartment, he tapped away on his phone. The scent of the place, slightly musky in a delicious, masculine way, washed over me, and I shivered. Everything in the space reminded me of him and his heavy-handed ways. . . and as much as he confused me—even slightly scared me—I did enjoy how he treated me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, nervously shuffling from foot to foot near the door. He glared at me, and I realized the door was still hanging open and rushed to shut it.

“Ordering food,” he said, then with a long exhale he tossed his phone onto the couch before removing his suit jacket. I watched him, unable to look away as he strolled into his bedroom. Memories of what he’d done to me the last time I was on his bed had my stomach going warm and liquid. I nearly swallowed my tongue when he came back out with a small coil of pink rope.

Albion winked and tossed the ball of rope between his hands. The rope was fairly wide looking and seemed like maybe it wouldn’t snag on my skin. He walked casually out to the glass dining room table. He studied me for a few seconds, and I twitched under the scrutiny. He set down the rope and stared at me as he rolled his sleeves to his elbows. I swallowed hard as his muscular forearms came into view with a dark dusting of hair. Was it weird that I wanted to run my tongue over his arms? Fuck, I wanted to lick every part of him.

He’d had his cock pushed against mine, and I hadn’t even touched it yet. I curled my fingers against my palms and saliva gathered in my mouth. Damn it, I wanted to wrap my lips around him and⁠—

“Sit here and put your arms on either side of the table leg,” he said, pointing at the floor.

“What?”

He snickered and gestured sharply. “You know how to be a dog. Sit.”

A shiver slithered down my spine and I nodded as I walked toward him. When I got close, he gave me a light swat on my ass—not the kind of thing that really hurt, but also not something I could ignore.

“Tonight, I want to hear snappy yes, Sirs and no, Sirs from you. Got it?” He tilted his chin up and stared down his nose at me.

“Yes, Sir.” I nodded for good measure, and then I scrambled to do what he’d said, sitting gingerly on my bruised ass as I faced the metal table leg and put my arms on either side of it. I was able to sit upright without ducking, and the top of my head brushed the underside of the cool glass. I moaned when he tied my wrists together with elegant knots. He was all economy of motion, not a single wasted movement. The rope was soft against my skin, as I’d suspected it might be, and it wasn’t overly restrictive. The bow he tied in the rope was pretty, but I was definitely stuck, unless I wanted to flip the table and pull my hands free that way.

I couldn’t imagine what he might do to me if I did something like that. It wouldn’t be pretty. Goose bumps rippled across my body. I didn’t have the courage to be that disobedient, but what would he do to me if I did?

“What is this, Sir?” I finally asked after almost a minute of him tugging at the rope, as if he wanted to make sure he wasn’t cutting off my circulation.

He grinned at me and hunkered down closer beside me. I sucked in a deep breath when he unbuckled my belt, then pulled it free of the loops of my suit pants. He trailed the leather over my cheek, then gave me a little slap with it that had me hissing. There was a warm stripe left behind on my face. Next, he slipped my shoes and socks off, and he stopped to tickle along the arch of my foot, which had me kicking. He stared directly into my eyes as he undid my pants, and I moved around and helped him so that he could tug them down my legs. Albion left me in my suit jacket, shirt, tie, and boxers.

I felt wildly naked, even though I was still mostly covered.

“We’re going to eat dinner together. I’m going to sit here,” he said, tugging the chair over next to me. He patted the seat. “And you’re going to be a good boy and do as I say. You’re a shoelicker, so you belong near them.” He flashed his teeth at me in a rough smile. “On the floor.”

“Yes, Sir,” I moaned out.

He laughed and easily popped to his feet. I bit the inside of my cheek as he strolled away.

“Sir, what am I supposed to be doing?” I asked, and he stopped, turning on his heel to cross his arms and glare at me.

“You’re doing it. And right now, you’re doing a good job, but if you keep asking annoying fucking questions, you won’t be.” He lowered his eyebrows and tipped his chin down.

“Yes, Sir.” I nodded quickly and almost exploded into confetti when a small smile twitched across his lips, even though it disappeared quickly.

The wait for the food was bizarrely euphoric. I was trapped and couldn’t go anywhere. I couldn’t do anything except what I’d been told. I was clearly pleasing Albion—well, I’d seen that smile, so I had hope that he was happy—and he wanted me here. Yeah, maybe he didn’t want to treat me like his boyfriend and sit me at the table, but this was fine.

The rope was so perfect. I even loved the color. With a quiet hum, I tugged at the rope and couldn’t get free, and by degrees, I relaxed into the situation. When Albion came back with a bag of food in his hands and plopped it on the table, I was ready to melt as he ran his fingers through my hair.

With everything going so well, I spaced out a bit. I leaned my head back and watched Albion through the glass as he unpacked the food, gathered silverware, and then got two glasses of water. When he sat down in his chair, I whimpered because I was so close to all the parts of him I wanted to touch. He nudged my knee with his shiny shoe, and I leaned down to kiss it.

“Oh, well, that’s certainly nice behavior, Shoelicker,” Albion said, and his tone was nearly pleasant. He opened a container, and next thing I knew steaming food was hovering in front of my mouth on a spoon. I glanced up at him, and he watched me as I opened my mouth and accepted what he had to offer. He hissed, and I moaned at the delicious flavors that burst on my tongue. He tapped my lips with the spoon.

“Good?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Enjoy it because I’m going to stuff my cock down your throat when I’m finished. Dinner, then dessert.” His wicked grin put my dick on high alert, and I was squirming with a hard-on when he slipped me another bite of food.

I didn’t mind at all.

The meal was winding down, and I was feeling pleasantly full and sleepy when Albion’s phone rang, a shrill sound that made me flinch. That was exactly why my phone was always on silent. I hated the way the noise belted out into the room and ruined everything. No one called anymore unless the news was bad. He sighed and went to the living room where he’d tossed the phone, and I buried a yawn against my arm. I shifted around, trying to get some friction on my dick, but there was no relief in sight.

“Hello, Albion Guthrie,” he snapped.

Albion stood there listening for a minute, and my gut dropped as his shoulders tightened, and then he shifted around and scowled at me.

No, no, no. What happened? I hadn’t done anything wrong! Anger ping-ponged through me, and I tugged on the ropes. There was no reason for him to be giving me that terrible look. I’d done everything he’d told me to do. Things were going so well!

“I apologize for wasting your time, Indy,” he said loudly.

I stared at him.

“Yes, I still want you to make those suits for my boy. Let me talk to him and reschedule. I know you were doing me a favor this morning. I’m very sorry,” he said, and his face flushed red.

Oh, fuck. The suits.

He ended the call and tossed the phone back onto the couch. “Why didn’t you go today?” he asked, tone so cold that ice crept through my veins.

I shook my head because I had no idea what to say. Panic stuck my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

He stomped over and slapped his hand on the glass table, and I cringed.

“Did you want a punishment? Because you won’t like it,” he said, his tone hard and unfeeling. I gasped as he shoved my legs apart before putting pressure on my needy cock with the sole of his shoe. The feeling wasn’t good. He ground down in a way that was nearly painful—but a jolt of excitement slid through me at the first sign of discomfort. I didn’t want him to stop.

Despite how excited I was—I could come any second—tears slid down my cheeks.

“Explain yourself,” he said, words loud enough to qualify as a yell. The tone was pure hatred, and it both scared and electrified me.

Again, I shook my head because I had no idea what to say.

“You won’t like punishments I hand out for shit that makes me look bad,” he snapped. “You’re making me rethink letting you work on client files.” He ground his foot harder on my cock, and I whimpered, horrified at myself as I rocked up and sought out more of the vicious pressure. He kept going until my cockhead felt squeezed to the breaking point, and I could almost taste the lightning strike of my orgasm on the tip of my tongue.

He bared his teeth in a snarl and pulled his foot away, then leaned his elbows on the table, glaring down at me through the glass. I got the impression that I was a pet in a cage who had disappointed him. He owned me, and I’d disobeyed. He shook his head.

Fuck, I was bad. I tingled all over and my cock pulsed and erupted. I threw my head back and whimpered. My legs kicked out as cum splashed the inside of my boxers. I panted and tried to hold in a whine but failed horribly.

Albion’s mouth fell open.

My head felt light and I leaned it against my arm to stare up at him.

“Oh, you little whore,” he said, tone slightly warmer. “You’re definitely getting punished now.”

Whimpering, I shook my head.

“Oh, yes. But you’re going to help me figure out how bad it will be. Explain why you disobeyed me this morning.” He tapped the glass with his finger, and I shivered all over at the sound.

Closing my eyes to escape his glare, I shrugged. “I thought maybe you didn’t want me to go.”

Albion snorted out a mean laugh. “Shoelicker, even for you and your limited intellect, that makes no fucking sense. I told you to go!” His volume rose, and I found myself trying to slink lower toward the floor.

I shrugged. “It would be a lot of money.”

“So?” He knocked on the glass until I looked up at him again.

“Money spent on me,” I elaborated.

His mouth twisted down to the side. “No, as I said, the money would be spent purely for my viewing pleasure.”

Confusion bit at me, and he cocked his head to the side.

“You disobeyed. What should your consequences be?” he asked, but I had a feeling he was talking out loud to himself, not asking me.

“I was there,” I said, gasping on a sob that slid out between my lips. I tugged at the rope, all at once scared. The spanking he’d given me had hurt a lot, and the tail had been almost nice, but the way he’d treated me afterward wasn’t. A thrill of real fear pelted through my stomach, and I loved and loathed the way my cum-sticky cock got hard again. “I just couldn’t go inside.”

He stilled and studied me, and some of the tension bled out of his frame as he hunkered down at my side. He inhaled deeply and rested a hand on my knee. My legs fell open, as if he’d hit a magic button, and he snorted, shaking his head. “I guess I can’t expect a shoelicker to do something that big alone. I’ll take you.”

Whimpering, I nodded. “Thank you, Sir. Am I still being punished?”

He smirked and yanked on a piece of the rope. I was baffled when the knot unfurled easily, even though I’d been tugging on it, and the restraints fell loose.

“Absolutely.”

I was confused when he shoved all the food on the table to one side. He bent down and grabbed my hips, hoisting me up. I bit the tip of my tongue when he shoved me toward the middle of the table, then pushed my chest until the back of my skull clunked on the glass. Shit, I hoped the table didn’t collapse. The intent expression on his face mesmerized me while he tugged my boxers down, then tossed them over his shoulder. I stared at him, every muscle in my body quivering. He slapped my thigh so hard that I hissed, and my cock trembled, waving in the air.

“Do not move. You’re going to stay right there until I tell you otherwise. Don’t move a muscle.” He smirked. It didn’t take him long to secure me spread eagle, with the rope running from each of my limbs to a leg of the table. I was so hard, and all I could do was look at my own leaking cock. I squeezed my ass, flexing and wriggling, but he smacked my cock.

Ouch. My aching flesh already felt abused. I moaned, feeling dizzy as I dropped my head back against the table.

“None of that. This is a punishment. You’re going to stay this way for the rest of the evening,” he said. His nostrils flared.

“No, Sir, please no,” I gasped out.

He casually lowered the zipper of his suit pants and tugged out his cock. I bit the tip of my tongue when he walked closer to my head and leaned his thighs against the table. Less than a minute later I moaned as his cum dotted my shirt. He was so fucking sexy jerking off, and I couldn’t touch him at all.

I wanted that cock in my mouth.

Fuck, I wanted it in my ass even more.

This was hell.

A perfect hell.

I whimpered and flexed, needing his cum in me instead of on me.

“God, you’re such a whore,” he said, then laughed. It almost sounded like an endearment.

10

ALBION

I walked around the house doing mindless chores while naked. I ignored the sounds coming from Wade where he lay across my table because it was mostly skin on glass each time he tried to move. There were a few groans peppered in, too, and while I listened for the safe word, nothing came. That was the thing I’d learned about Wade—disappointing me didn’t seem to be in his future plans; at least, I hadn’t thought it was until I’d gotten the call from Indy. Wade’s abject fear was interesting to see in his eyes, but there was something else that had me even more intrigued.

I grabbed my phone and texted Massimo.

Albion: Your cousin still owns that security business, right?

I set my phone on the breakfast bar and glanced at Wade. His hard cock slapped against his belly, the head flushed red. I hadn’t even touched him, and he was ready to go again. I’d never met anyone so fucking perfect.

My phone buzzed and I picked it up to check it.

Massimo: Yeah. What services do you want?

Albion: Intel on my new sub.

Massimo: You think he’s spying or something?

Albion: No. I want to know everything about his life.

A moment later, the phone’s shrill ringtone filled the room and I grabbed it. I stalked past Wade. Ignoring his whimpers, I went into my bedroom and slid the door closed before I answered.

“Yeah?”

“Why?” Massimo drawled, unimpressed. I didn’t have to see his face to imagine it in my mind, his mouth pursed in displeasure and eyebrows low in irritation. Massimo and I did things differently when it came to our subs.

“Because.”

“That isn’t an answer.” He sighed. “I thought you hated this guy.”

“I do,” I said as truthfully as I could, though I wasn’t too sure if I truly believed it anymore. My loathing of Wade had slowly begun to diminish the more I played with him, and I would be lying if I said he did horrible work. He had the skills for the job.

Massimo stayed silent, waiting.

I exhaled. “I don’t want any distractions from our playing. You know me, I like my subs to be content and happy so that when we do a scene, they’re fully present.”

He grunted as if he didn’t believe me. He’d never been as involved as me when it came to his subs, though. He preferred to leave the domestic part of it outside, whereas I felt like what happened in my sub’s life affected our play. “Fine. If you’re so invested in this boy, I’ll send you Adrian’s info.”

With that, he ended the call.

I snorted in amusement and opened the door again, walking back out into the dining area. Wade whimpered, turning his head to stare at me with big pleading eyes, but I ignored him and sat my bare ass on the stool at the breakfast bar again. It was getting close to ten at night, and since coming on his chest, I hadn’t done a thing to Wade. His punishment was simple in my brain—I would ignore him. Wade’s pleasure came from my attention, whether it was praise or degradation, and if I gave him nothing, then he would feel every passing second as though it were an hour.

I went back to work on my computer, ignoring the cold wood of the stool against the cheeks of my ass. If staying naked meant teasing the hell out of Wade, I would put up with it, even if my balls got the brunt of the coolness as well.

“Sir?” His voice wobbled nervously.

“What?” I snapped, sending him a glare.

“I’m sorry.” He raised his head and poked his bottom lip out at me. “I’m really sorry.”

“Are you?” I stood and walked slowly over to him, taking in the long lines of his outstretched body. The muscles in his thighs strained and his cock twitched, begging for attention. “Because if you were sorry, my perfect little slut, you would’ve done what I’d ordered.”

“I know.” A whiney sob came from the back of his throat.

“If you know, why did you not go to the tailor like I ordered you to?” I strode closer and tapped his knee with my finger. The muscles in his thighs tensed.

“I told you,” he whispered between small whimpers. “It was too expensive.”

“Since you weren’t paying for the suits, it shouldn’t have mattered how much money they cost.” I trailed my fingers up the inside of his knee and higher, and he inhaled sharply, raising his head to watch the path my teasing touch took. When I got close to his dick, I brought my hand down hard on his thigh, and he jerked against his restraints, a loud whine slipping from teeth-nibbled lips.

He shuddered and moaned. “Please, Sir. Please.”

“No.” I smirked, the sensation of power blanketing me again. The warmth curled low in my groin and made my cock fill. “You will tell me the truth, Shoelicker, or I will leave you this way all night.”

The sob that left his mouth was perfect, and I closed my eyes to drink it all in. He yanked at the ropes and groaned, dropping the back of his head on the table. “I thought. . . . I thought it was maybe a joke or a test. That you would leave me with the bill. I can’t afford that.”

I scraped my nails over the pinkness that my slap had caused and ruminated on his words. His reasoning made sense. I’d made his life hell since he’d been given to me under a work contract, and while it wasn’t my style to trick someone, it could’ve easily been if I was a cruel person.

“Hm.” I danced the tips of my fingers across his hip bone and up over his abs, watching the goose bumps chase my touch. His belly jumped and he wriggled, and as much as I wanted to keep teasing him, his answer was satisfactory. I moved away and walked around to each leg of the table, tugging the knots once to release him.

When the ropes loosened, he slowly sat up, blinking big hazel eyes at me as he glanced down at himself and the dried cum I’d left on his shirt.

“You’re dirty. Go shower,” I ordered, and his gaze shot back up to me.

He widened his eyes and licked his dry lips nervously.

I walked over to the fridge, aware of him following every move I made as I filled up a glass of water and headed back over to him. When I passed him the glass, he took it with a shaky hand and drank carefully.

“We’re done for tonight,” I said.

He froze, bottom lip popped out. “Did I do something wrong, Sir?”

“No. I saw reason in why you didn’t go into the tailor, but tomorrow we’ll do it together. You’ll see me pay for the suits myself before Indy measures you.” I went to reach out, then jerked my hand back. No, I wasn’t going to touch his shoulder in comfort. That wasn’t me. “Now, I gave you an order to go take a shower. I’ll find some clothes for you to wear.”

He blinked at me and his mouth popped open. “Am I staying tonight?”

I hesitated. This was a dangerous game, but I didn’t see a reason for him to go home. Indy was only open early in the morning for special customers, and I was one of them. “Yes, but don’t assume anything’s happening tonight, Shoelicker. You still disobeyed me. You’ll sleep in the bed beside me, but you won’t touch me. Am I clear?”

He nodded faster. “Yes, Sir.”

“Go shower. Now.”

He didn’t waste any time doing as I’d ordered.

But it was hell sleeping in the bed next to him the entire night. I’d wanted to reach out and touch him, fuck that sweet hole of his until he begged me to come, but I had a mission. This was his punishment, yet it also felt like mine.

When early dawn came, I sent him off to shower alone. While he didn’t need another after getting one last night, I told him to go again because he would be doing more than simply be measured for suits. I had a surprise for him, and he needed to be squeaky clean for it.

With a little digging in my closet, I found a pair of jeans and shirt that I thought would fit him, then threw them on the bed before I opened a new box of briefs and added one of them to the pile.

When he came out of the bathroom, skin flushed red from the heat of the water and a black towel wrapped around his slim waist, I stopped to appreciate the wetness of his chest and abs. It didn’t look like he’d dried himself at all.

I snorted and stalked past him, aware that I startled him when he jumped slightly, and grabbed another towel from the bathroom closet. He watched me carefully as I came back and began to dry his shoulders rather roughly.

“Can you not even use a towel the right way?” My tone was snippy, but my words came out softer than usual. “This is why you need a Dom. To take care of you.”

“Yes, Sir.” He lowered his head, exposing the nape of his neck to me below the line of his hair.

I paused, staring at the flushed skin of his back as I slid the towel over it, catching the rivulets of water that dripped down the planes. “Yes what?”

“I. . . . I like being cared for.”

That type of confession would’ve made me laugh in any other circumstance. I’d heard subs say the sweetest things hoping to please their Dom, and they were great actors, too. But the way Wade spoke, his voice small and hopeful, the truthfulness of the statement lingered in his tone. His admission was more than words said to play a game or get a reward, and that scared the living fuck out of me.

This was Wade Lee Sawyer, the fucker who tried to bring down Émeraude Technologies with Xadrian. I didn’t care what he wanted or needed—except when it came to sex.

Everything inside shouted at me to throw the towel at him and tell him to do it himself, but I didn’t. Instead, I ignored his confession and took the time to dry him thoroughly. I reached around to undo the knot of his other towel and crouched so I could take care of his legs and his juicy bruised ass, disregarding the way he shivered and let out a small moan when I wiped between his cheeks.

When I was done, I pointed at the clothes on the bed. “Get dressed. We need to be there in half an hour.”

I left him to it as I strode back toward the bathroom and went to shower. I made sure I got in and out quickly, giving myself a decent wash before I exited the glass cubicle and dried off. By the time I went back into my room, he was sitting on the bed, hands held in his lap and head down like a good boy. He didn’t say anything as I went to my closet and started to get dressed. I chose a simple pair of jeans and a black T-shirt.

Once I checked myself over in the mirror, I gestured for him to follow me.

“Let’s go. Indy will be waiting.”

He pressed his mouth together. “Yes, Sir.” He rose, then froze. “Uh, Sir?”

“Yes?” I stopped near the door to my bedroom and turned to look at him and the way he shot a downcast glance toward the floor.

“After work today, is it possible for you to drop me off at home? I know it’s out of the city, but I. . . . Ah. . . . My brother usually needs me to deliver food, and if I’m spending the night with you again, it would take me a while to take the bus to his house.” A blush spread across his cheeks.

“Your brother?” I asked, confused. “Is he a kid or something?”

He shook his head fast. “No, Sir.”

I frowned but shrugged in answer. “That’s fine. Let’s go.”

He walked hurriedly past me, and I watched him, curiosity growing stronger. Maybe after I dropped him off, I would have to give Adrian Valentini, Massimo’s cousin, a call to satisfy my nosiness. I needed to know what my pretty little sub had going on in his life to steal his attention so I could make it all go away.

11

WADE LEE

Mist cooled my face and the gray clouds of a dreary St. Loren morning hung low over us. My hands shook and I clasped them together as Albion strolled casually beside me to the front of Sew Much Better Than the Rest. I rubbed the thumbnail of my left hand very quickly for a few seconds but stopped because Albion squeezed my elbow. It was clear he wondered what the hell was wrong with me as he raised an eyebrow in my direction.

I shrugged.

He had a solid grip on my arm, which wasn’t the same as holding my hand, but was definitely something. God, I was going to jump out of my skin, but I leaned into Albion’s touch as he marched forward. With a confidence that was terrifying, he grabbed the door to the shop and opened it for me.

My heart attempted to hop into my throat and strangle me as I gave Albion a nervous smile, and I nearly fell over when a tiny grin lit up his face. His eyebrows dove and the smile vanished faster than it had arrived. Well, so much for that. I shivered and peeked inside the shop, and he put his hand on the small of my back and nudged me.

“See, this isn’t scary,” he said in a low, scathing tone. I glanced over my shoulder at him, and his lips quirked. My heart chugged along faster. Was he going to smile again? I hoped so. A thrill zipped through my stomach, and I let out a ragged breath.

“Oh, here he is!” A stunning man came out from the back room. His neon purple hair made me stare. Sparkly lavender fake freckles were scattered across his nose and cheeks, making him resemble an adorable mythical being. His bright blue eyes seemed to look through me to my soul, and when he walked toward me, I couldn’t help but envy the pastel pink suit that clung perfectly to his shoulders and hips. I’d never seen a suit hang so well. “This is the one who stood me up.” He rested his palm on his chest, then plucked at the silver necklace there as he shot an assessing glance up and down my body. “Well, I guess you’re cute enough to warrant some special treatment.” He sighed theatrically and grinned at Albion. “I’m twice as heartbroken that I didn’t get to dress you sooner, however, so keep that in mind the next time you make a man wait.” He winked at me. “I’m Indy Yves. You must be Wade Sawyer.”

My head felt like it might break off my neck as I nodded. Was it hot in here? My body boiled, starting at my toes. The odd sensation drifted up my torso until even the tips of my ears burned.

Indy walked over and gestured for me to follow him to a spot on a small podium near some mirrors in the back. I could barely keep track of anything, except the way he darted around collecting things—a notepad, a pencil, a thick binder. He lugged the binder over and thrust it into Albion’s hands.

“There you go. You take a peek.” He tapped the cover of the heavy-duty black binder and blasted Albion with a blinding smile. “Cloth swatches for the winter season. Now, over here, sweetheart,” he said to me, bustling toward the raised podium in front of the mirrors again. He looked at me expectantly, and when I checked Albion was glaring, so I rushed to Indy’s side.

“Mr. Guidry sends his regards, Indy,” Albion drawled, and for the first time I heard a little bit of the south in his words. He had a city accent, but apparently this morning he was relaxing and being more himself. Part of me was jealous that he and Indy must be well enough acquainted for that informality.

Indy laughed and waved his hand in Albion’s direction. “Oh, isn’t he just the sweetest? Come on, honeybee,” he said and grabbed my arm to move it.

I finally got what he wanted me to do and raised my arms.

He snapped open a measuring tape and cocked a hip. “Let’s get you squared away. This won’t take long at all. It’s the easiest part of everything.” He winked at me. “The key to a good suit is good measurements. Sloppy at this stage means failure in the rest.” He shook his head and huffed with his lips pursed, as if someone had suggested he should do a worse job. I got stuck staring at the gloss on his mouth. Would I look okay in something like that? Embarrassment warmed my cheeks all over again.

“Uh, okay,” I mumbled.

He winked again, and I went into another full-body meltdown, apparently starting with my brain. It was awful. I caught sight of myself in the mirrors, and after the pink faded from my face, I looked pale, the way I did sometimes when I hadn’t been sleeping and eating right. I sighed, then let my attention drift back to Albion as Indy hummed and walked around me, using his measuring tape against my body, then pausing to scribble down numbers in a tiny notepad.

Oh, Jesus Christ. Albion studied me, brown eyes serious and heavy lidded. His jaw was tense and he licked his lips, as if I was a tasty meal he wanted to eat. I shivered, and Indy glanced up at me, then caught sight of Albion in the mirror. He scrunched his nose, which was cute, and sent me a secret smile from his spot on the floor near my right leg.

“How is this fine Thursday treating you?” Indy asked, and I let out a grunt as I lifted my foot. He grinned and popped my shoe off. I had no idea why he was measuring my insole, but he seemed very intent about it. Indy was speedy as he moved around to my other side to do the same thing, and I was a tad jealous. He was on fire, and his outfit clung to his body in all the right ways—put together to attract attention. He also carried himself with confidence. He could do anything in the entire world. I never felt that way and I wished I did.

He glanced up at me, and I remembered he’d asked me a question too late to save my reply from being awkward.

“Um. All right,” I said.

Indy grinned as he hopped up and began to measure across my chest for the second time in a slightly different direction. “A man of few words. Lovely. Stoicism has its uses.” He winked at Albion, and I had no idea what was going on there because by the time I glanced at Albion in the mirror, he was looking down into the binder he had spread open on his lap.

“Wade is shy,” Albion said, paging through the choices. His legs were in a sexy sprawl, and with the way he looked, he could be paid to sit on that tan leather couch all day. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry.

Indy caught my eye and gave me another one of those intriguing secret smirks, as if we were sharing some joke. He darted his gaze over to Albion, which only made me look at him again. I wanted to go over to him and sink to my knees at his side, ask him if this was what he’d wanted, if I’d done a good job, and beg him for a nice reward.

Part of me wanted him to tell me I was doing terribly and that he hated me and wished he’d left me at home. Tell me he wouldn’t buy me anything because I didn’t deserve it. A bizarrely wonderful, uncomfortable squirm slithered through my body. It felt right that he should say those terrible things to me. I didn’t necessarily enjoy it, but it matched the way I felt inside. People were never honest enough to tell you when they really hated you, and there were things I wished I could change about myself.

Indy moved around to my back, and I bit my lip as he softly measured low around my hips to the curve of my behind. There was the most featherlight pressure, and it twinged the bruises that were still on my ass. The reminder of what Albion and I had done made my face hot enough to melt butter, and I cleared my throat.

“Sorry, sweetie. I know a lot of people aren’t used to someone being in their space this long. I won’t linger.” He gave me a soft smile, and I nodded back.

Albion’s head shot up, and our gazes clashed in the mirror. His mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything. The expression on his face was clearly asking me if I was all right, even though the words never left his mouth. I gave him a short nod, and he went back to browsing through the binder in his lap.

“With your eyes and complexion, I’m inclined to steer you toward a gray palette, especially for the winter season. Maybe even some pastels if you feel like going buck wild.” Indy flashed me a toothy grin and let his measuring tape fly out in his exuberance. “What do you think?”

“I’ll choose. I’m paying,” Albion said, cutting into our conversation without a hint of guilt.

My shoulders shot back as I stared at him. He certainly didn’t mind letting anyone know how our relationship—or whatever this happened to be—was going to work.

Indy raised his eyebrows and sent Albion a less than pleased look that quickly smoothed away. He smiled. “Leibling, you do have a great eye, but Wade has to wear the ensemble.” Indy quirked a smile in Albion’s direction when he glanced up at us.

He shrugged. “And I have to look at it.”

Indy hummed, but some of his playfulness melted away as he bounced on his feet and ran his finger along the small sheet of paper where he’d been scribbling numbers. Indy sniffed, then glanced up into my face. We were about the same height, but I had a slight advantage over him. “Are you certain you have no preferences?”

A shiver racked me and I rubbed the back of my neck before forcing out a smile. “No, I want him to pick. It will. . . make me happy.”

Indy studied my face, and I had no idea what he was thinking, but after a few intense seconds he snickered and nodded. “Wonderful.” He tucked his notepad into his pocket and the pencil behind his ear. “Let’s get you moving so you can get on with your day. Have you made your choices, Albion?” Indy whirled around.

After they began bickering—purely in an amused way—over color choices, it felt like I was caught up in a whirlwind. I took the opportunity to put my shoes on. When I shuffled over close enough to Albion to peek at the binder and see what they were talking about, he snagged me around the waist and dragged me down onto his lap. I gulped and sat there stiffly, but Albion and Indy talked and laughed together as if nothing unusual were going on. I didn’t internalize a thing they said, and before I knew it the binder was snatched away, Indy was off to enter our choices in his computer system, and Albion was guiding me firmly out the front door.

I could barely breathe. My days weren’t usually this full of activity.

Once again, Albion had my elbow in a tight grip and was guiding me toward his vehicle. The light mist that was coming down felt refreshing as it cooled my face and grounded me a little in the moment.

“We’re not going to the office today.” He opened my door.

I swung around to stare at him. “What are we doing then, Sir?”

Albion gave my waist a soft squeeze that surprised me because it was comforting. “I’m checking in on a couple of work sites, and you’re assisting me.”

“I am?” If I leaned against his side and sniffed his ridiculously delicious cologne, no one was here to judge me, and he didn’t say anything about it.

He glared.

“Yes, Sir. Of course I am,” I said, clearing my throat.

He nodded, lips twitching once more as if he was holding in a smile.

Not long later, he was navigating his black Ford truck through the morning traffic. There wasn’t much of a rush hour in St. Loren, but I was confused because we were in the Business District and there weren’t any new buildings or renovations around here that I was aware of—though, that didn’t mean much.

I was stunned when he stopped in the street in front of Fire and Ice, a salon so expensive I’d heard about it because the women in the office had talked about it nonstop when it first opened—then even more after they’d fallen in love with the owner, Marceau. As far as I knew, he was mononymous, like Cher. The name of the business curved in bold, gold metallic letters above the roof, and the building had a sapphire-and-scarlet marble veneer. The stunning centerpiece of the eye-bending spectacle was a set of huge glass front doors. The left side was red and the right was a robin’s-egg blue.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

He hit the button on my seat belt and leaned across me to open my door.

“Are you kicking me out, Sir?” I bit the tip of my tongue. I hadn’t been doing anything. How had I fucked up this bad?

“Yes,” he said gruffly, then nodded at the salon. “You have an appointment to be waxed. Everywhere. I know you don’t have much hair, but I want you to be smooth. You’re going to listen this time, right?” He barely blinked as he stared into my eyes.

“Yes, Sir,” I breathed out automatically.

“Good. Go.”

Feeling silly, I stumbled out of his vehicle and hit my knee before shooting up and brushing myself off. I was too rattled to feel more than a small spark of pain.

Albion shook his head at me, and I closed the door. He drove off and hadn’t said when he would be back. Taking a deep breath, I hurried to the sidewalk because someone else was speeding along toward me in the street, and I stumbled through the red door into the brightly lit waiting room. A smiling woman with long blond hair immediately hustled toward me. Her black dress showed off perfectly smooth legs that gleamed like silk.

“Are you Wade Lee?” she asked with a smile, and I almost swallowed my tongue when she handed me a small flute of what I quickly discovered was champagne. “Welcome to Fire and Ice!”

“Uh, yes?”

“Oh, just so you know, your package was booked, paid for, and generously tipped already,” she gushed.

I chugged the champagne as she grabbed my shoulders and turned me toward a hallway to our right. “Let’s go.”

“You, uh, already know what you’re doing to me?” I squeaked and followed her, clutching the stem of the glass so hard I was worried I would break it.

She laughed, a high tinkling sound. “Yes, Mr. Guthrie was very clear that he wanted you to be smooth all over when we send you back to him. He’s a very nice catch, huh?” she asked, giving me a long look out of the corner of her brilliant green eyes. It took me a second to decide that maybe they were contacts.

All I could do was nod.

“You must be very special to get this amount of spoiling, hon,” she said, maneuvering me right into a cozy room that smelled like something nice—maybe gardenias—and had soft music playing. There was a table that reminded me of a doctor’s office, and towels and other implements were laid out on nearby low counters. She directed me toward a small room to the side that was brighter and had a typical salon chair in it with a huge round mirror.

“We’re going to trim your hair first, okay?” She patted the top of my head. “Then you can go behind there and undress.” She pointed at a decorative black screen. “There’s a large towel for you. We’ll do what we can for your privacy. Have you done this before?”

“No, miss,” I said, shaking my head hard.

Her smile softened. “Oh, you’ll love it. I mean, not the actual hair removal, but the results are fantastic. And we’ll oil and lotion your skin. You’ll feel like a cloud all over.” She scrunched her fingertips into my hair.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and she kept talking as she hustled over to the salon chair and turned on the blue lights that ringed the mirror. I tuned her out as I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked the notification.

Xadrian: I’m coming over tonight at 6 to fuck you. Be ready. I don’t have time to play around. In and out. I have shit to do.

“But we’re not together anymore?” I whispered. The room felt as if it tilted, and I reached out to put my hand on the wall.

“Oh, bad news, hon?” the woman asked, staring at me. She cocked her head to the side and reminded me of a friendly golden retriever.

I shook my head, even as a low-grade panic began to simmer in my gut. Xadrian had told me we were finished, and honestly, I hadn’t missed him. Did he really think I would just let him into my apartment? Guilt ripped through me. Actually, I would’ve had a lot of trouble telling him no if he’d simply strolled in with his spare key. I bit my lip.

“Ready, sugar! Let’s trim your hair first.” She beamed at me. “Do you have problems with scented things?”

“No.” I was confused about why she needed to ask that. I had no idea what to say to Xadrian because telling someone to go to hell wasn’t really my thing, so in the end, I decided to ignore the text and stuffed the phone back in my pocket. Once I was sitting in the salon chair, the woman used a delicious vanilla scented cool mist to wet down my hair, and I tried to sink into the experience.

“You’re right. I am being spoiled,” I said, feeling surprised as I glanced at her in the mirror.

She laughed, and I smiled along with her. “I’m Andi, and you’re in good hands, baby. Let’s do this!”

About two hours later my muscles were more relaxed than they’d ever been in my life—while I was at the same time bizarrely wound up on the inside—since a massage was also part of the package Albion had paid for. I’d heard repeatedly how well he’d tipped. Maybe Andi was trying to let me know that she thought he was great. I was feeling a little smug when he pulled up along the curb and got out of the truck to stroll around to me. He tugged down the collar of my shirt, then ran his thumb along my perfectly smooth, soft chest.

I held my breath because a real smile played along his lips. Without warning, he tweaked my left nipple through my shirt, and I gasped, leaning in closer to him.

“Mm, very nice,” he murmured, then opened the door for me.

Was that a compliment? Was that the first time he’d ever said anything nice just to be. . . well, nice? I glanced up at him. “Thank you, Sir.” My cock tried to break through my jeans as he swept an assessing gaze down my body.

Albion buried his nose against my neck, and I bit my lip as he swept his tongue along my pulse point. My knees tried to buckle, and he grasped my waist.

“I can’t wait to taste you later,” he said into my ear. “You smell so sweet.”

My head swam. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? The compliments seemed dangerous, and I might’ve turned and walked away, except the same intense expression as usual was firmly etched onto his face. I gathered my courage and climbed into his vehicle.

“Are we going to go to work now?” I asked when he got behind the steering wheel, then took the vehicle into the thin stream of traffic.

“What are you talking about? We’ve been working all morning,” he said offhand with a wink aimed at me.

Snorting, I settled back and buckled my seat belt. Since it was nearly lunchtime, I wasn’t surprised that he stopped at the usual café his team frequented, the cozy coffee shop, Cosmic Corner. When we reached the door, I spotted Albion’s team inside already. He handed me an iPad, and I almost fumbled it to the ground.

“Take notes,” he snapped, then opened the door and strode inside.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, following after him.

The team mostly ignored me, which was fine. I didn’t know any of them well, and they all probably thought about Xadrian when they saw me. Discomfort clawed through me. I’d managed to forget about his text for a while, but as I took a seat at one of the round wooden tables in the center of the room, the panic from earlier made it difficult to think. I opened the Word document app on the iPad, and Albion frowned at me, but he was too busy talking to everyone else and listening to what they had to say to reprimand me about not paying attention. I barely took any notes at all. When everyone else finished their coffees and started ordering food, I stayed glued in my seat and closed the app.

What was I going to do about Xadrian tonight?

Albion hadn’t said a word to me since we’d come inside, and he continued to more or less ignore me, even though I was sitting right beside him. Each time someone went to the counter and ordered food or drinks, they swiped the company expense card, and at the end of everything, it was handed back to Albion.

Xadrian used to lord the expense card over his team. He would make a big show of paying, if we were getting a meal out. Albion was a colder person than Xadrian in a lot of ways, less emotional, but he was a hell of a lot nicer. I rested my hand on my phone in my pocket and bit my lip.

What was I going to do? What should I say? I had no idea.

“What’s wrong?” Albion asked quietly as everyone else stood from the table after the last person finished eating, already talking about whatever they would be working on for the rest of the day. He studied my face.

“Nothing, Sir,” I said, shaking my head. “Just really relaxed and a little out of it.”

“Albion, what’s the deadline?” Cora asked. She was one of the really job conscious people on the team. Like Albion, she wasn’t exactly friendly, but she did give him her undivided attention.

“Mm. Next Friday. Is a week enough time?”

She nodded and hurried outside.

When he leaned back, he nearly looked happy. “Good. After this, you’re going to do something very important for me at Dillard’s.”

Frowning, I glanced at him. “Sir, what will I be doing at a department store?”

He shrugged and grinned. “Finding shoes to go with those suits. I’ll swing back to pick you up in a bit.” Albion seemed perfectly content with breaking rules for me today, but unlike Xadrian, I got the idea that he did respect the job, so I suspected this wouldn’t happen often, if ever again—and besides, he was working. Still, guilt twisted in my gut.

“I could get fired if Mr. Guidry finds out I wasn’t working today.”

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not going to tell him.”

“You’re not?”

He shook his head.

I let out a long breath and relaxed into whatever the hell weirdness today was going to end up being, especially when he slipped me a credit card with his name on it. I swallowed hard. He didn’t look at me, so I tucked it into my wallet and didn’t say a word.

“How many pairs of shoes?”

“Three or four.” He shrugged. “And don’t get cheap shit. They need to match the suits. Gray, green, blue, brown, and black. Nothing under three hundred dollars. Each,” he said, tone dire.

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered, then covered my mouth with my hand to hide my smile.

The day was a bizarre haze as Albion ran around town checking on different projects for his team and doing a few things for Mr. Guidry. In between all his stops, I bought shoes; some more regular clothes; underwear and socks; a new laptop, since he’d decided he didn’t like mine for some reason; and then, finally, at the last site I went with him and took notes.

My gut started to twist with anxiety again around five thirty, and by the time we were in a fancy bar in the Pleasure District—Sale Riche—I was having trouble paying attention to anything at all. There was an on-point gold theme throughout the business, and I got distracted running my finger along the shiny metal bar. Albion was still hard at work on his iPad, even though he had a beer with condensation sliding down the sides sitting in front of him. I sat up straighter on my stool when the bartender brought me a mint-green drink in a bowl-shaped glass over beads of ice. It was artwork.

“What is this?” I asked, blinking at Albion. I’d been panicking so hard when we’d sat down that I hadn’t noticed what he’d ordered for me. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and tipped his head to the side, studying me.

“It’s called The Sun Also Rises,” the bartender said, sending me a thumbs-up, and then he hustled off. I sipped and hummed. It was definitely alcoholic, and an aftertaste of citrus hit my tongue.

“Look at this ice!” I said, unreasonably excited for a few seconds. I shook the drink at Albion. “The ice looks like glass.” I smiled at him.

“Very nice,” he murmured, then tapped at the iPad screen. He gave me a small grin, and I grasped the edge of the cool bar to stay upright.

For a few moments, I just enjoyed the drink and the company, though the alcohol began to hit me quickly, since I hadn’t eaten anything at lunchtime.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and my heart almost exploded.

Shit, Xadrian. I fumbled the drink noisily down onto the bar, and Albion frowned in my direction. My hand shook as he glanced down at my pocket. He could probably hear the blast of the vibrations over the low instrumental music playing discreetly through some nearby speakers. I knew I could. All at once, it hit me how bad it might look if Albion knew Xadrian was calling me—I had no reason to believe it would be anyone else attempting to reach me.

My gut churned. He might even be in my apartment. Who knew what he might do when I didn’t show up? I rubbed the back of my neck. I wanted to at least send him a text telling him some lie—that I was busy. But I couldn’t do it with Albion watching me. I just couldn’t.

“I’m going to the restroom, Sir,” I said, not asking or waiting for permission before I slid off my stool.

“Okay.” He drawled the word slowly and swiped his finger across the screen of the iPad, but he was looking at my face with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Okay,” I repeated, feeling stupid as I shrugged.

Damn it, I better hurry. I hustled to the restroom feeling as if the walls were closing in on me, and my heart was going to leap out of my mouth and flop on the floor like a fish. My stomach continued to act up, and I rushed inside, holding my middle. After a few breaths, thankfully that gonna lose my guts sensation passed. Since I was there, I went to the urinals and pissed, then washed my hands, putting off the inevitable. I could barely think.

My pocket vibrated, an insistent annoyance against my thigh. I ignored it and shuffled back out to my stool, and this time when I sat down Albion shoved aside his iPad and turned toward me. He rested his hand on my clammy forehead, then tilted my head up so I was looking into his eyes.

“What’s wrong? You’re green around the gills. Are you all right?” he asked. The harsh tone normally in his voice had softened, and I shivered.

“ ’M fine,” I mumbled.

The phone in my pocket began to vibrate yet again, and I flinched.

He scowled, and I gasped when he shoved his hand into my pocket. I fought him a bit, but he finally pulled my phone out.

“No!” I lunged, but he put a hand on my chest and held the phone up so he could look at the damning name on the screen.

His gaze shot to me, and my balls shriveled up to hide against my body at the pure rage that settled onto his face. “Open the phone. Now,” he demanded.

With shaking fingers, I put in my password. I bit my thumb as Albion grabbed his iPad and stormed toward the front of the bar and the exit. Terror pelted through me as I stumbled after him. I managed to snag his arm when he was outside on the sidewalk.

“I—I didn’t⁠—”

“Quiet,” Albion thundered. He scrolled through the messages I’d never deleted from Xadrian, and I moaned.

This was awful. I’d thought tonight might be nice after everything he’d done for me today, but now it was ruined—and I couldn’t stand it. Everything always seemed to fall apart around me, no matter what I did. No matter how hard I fought.

It wasn’t fair.

12

ALBION

Rage bubbled inside me like an angry volcano. The heat burned my insides, making it difficult to suck air into my lungs. Xadrian’s name taunted me as I scrolled the messages, reading each one he’d sent to Wade—and Wade’s very few replies. Xadrian’s only message since his departure had been today, but there were numerous missed calls on Wade’s phone from him, probably because it was after six and he was at Wade’s apartment, waiting for him so he could get off.

“How long were you together?” I asked bluntly, a sickness clawing at my chest. It was a feeling I didn’t know well—jealousy. I hated the thought of another man, more specifically Xadrian, touching the one who belonged to me. Wade was my sub to play with, and his responses were perfectly in tune with my orders. He was mine, by contract mostly, but in other ways, too. I’d expected him to say the safe phrase sooner rather than later to end all this, but he hadn’t. If anything, he seemed to enjoy every day more and more.

“Not long,” Wade said in a small voice, head lowered. “He. . . . He used me. I thought I liked him, but he never treated me well. He never cared about me.”

Wade had said he’d wanted to be cared for, didn’t he?

I scanned the messages carefully. Mostly they consisted of the same kind of language in each demand.

Xadrian: I’m coming over. I want to fuck you.

Xadrian: Be ready for me. I want to get in, get off, and get out.

Xadrian: Don’t make me fucking wait.

His tone was obnoxious, but that didn’t surprise me. Xadrian had always been a douchebag. Ugh, I hope I didn’t sound like that.

My gaze rose to Wade, and I noted how his shoulders shook and a blush of embarrassment spread across his cheeks and down his neck. I hummed in thought. “Did you love him?”

“No,” he answered immediately, jerking his stare up to me. His eyes widened. “He’s all I had.”

“What about the brother you told me about?” I raised my eyebrows as my grip on his phone tightened.

“It’s complicated.” His jaw firmed up, and for the first time since I’d met him, I noticed some hardness bleed into his stare. Family had always been a touchy subject, something I understood well, but I hated not knowing. I could ask him more, demand answers, but along with the resistance in his eyes was something else—vulnerability—and I couldn’t quite bring myself to order him to say anything.

“Do you remember your safe word?” I asked, just as a reminder.

He frowned, bottom lip wobbling. “Yes?” He paused for a short moment, scratching his hand idly. “Do you want me to use it? Are you done with me?”

“No.” I handed his phone back to him, and he almost fumbled it to the ground. “But I want you to know that you can use it at any time.”

“I don’t want to,” he whispered a little desperately, grabbing my hand. “I like being with you. I wasn’t planning on letting him fuck me, Sir. I promise.”

For some reason, I believed him, but that didn’t mean I had to accept the situation.

Pleasure curled low in my stomach and heat spread through me, yet when my thoughts drifted back to Xadrian, anger writhed in my guts. Wade watched with wild eyes as though he expected me to leave him here alone. The fear in his gaze shouldn’t have affected me, but something new and strange embedded itself in my chest, digging deep and burrowing in.

“Wait here.” My voice was too soft and it hadn’t come out the way I’d intended, but Wade responded as well as he had when I’d used a harsher tone. He stood in the same spot, like a trained puppy, while I went back in to take care of the tab, and then he followed me to the truck. I opened the passenger door for him, and he slipped inside. He blinked in surprise when I tugged the seat belt and leaned over him to latch it. I closed the door and went around to my side.

Once I got in the truck, I turned on the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot. “Where’s your apartment?”

He tensed. “Xadrian will still be there.” As if to make a point, he showed me his phone which had once again begun to vibrate, Xadrian’s name flashing on the screen.

“Text him and tell him you’re on your way home now.”

He blinked, clearly confused. “But⁠—”

“Trust me, Pretty Boy. Do it.”

He inhaled sharply, and it took me a moment to realize I’d called him something other than slut, whore, and shoelicker, but I didn’t think too much on it. I wasn’t in love with him or some crazy bullshit, but he was mine, and I didn’t like it when others mistreated my toys.

He gave me his address, and I pulled over to enter it in my GPS while he texted Xadrian the way I’d told him to, and then I guided the truck back onto the road and settled into a comfortable silence. He shoved his hands between his thighs, and his knees jiggled with nerves. I watched him carefully from the corner of my eye, noting the outward distress. While he appeared uncomfortable, he didn’t look ready to cry. Good. I wanted to make him cry when I took him apart with my mouth and dick, or if I had to punish him—not any other time.

It took a good twenty minutes to drive to his apartment because he lived in one of the suburbs outside the city. He stared out the window at his building lit up by the setting sun as we arrived, and when he finally glanced at me, his cheeks flushed a bright red.

“Uh. . . this is it, Sir. I’m in apartment nine.”

I nodded. “Good.” I pointed at his phone. “I want you to block Xadrian’s number. Right now. You will never be contacting him again.”

He didn’t hesitate. Once he’d unlocked his phone, he tapped on it a few times before he faced the screen toward me, proving he’d done what I’d ordered. He was such a good boy. Fuck, what was he doing to me? I wanted to devour him, shove him somewhere that no one could find him or touch him. He was a toy that belonged to only me.

I gripped my hands tightly around the wheel to save myself from doing anything inappropriate. We didn’t have time. “How far away does your brother live? Driving distance.”

He swallowed visibly. “About twenty minutes.”

“Can you drive stick?” I gestured at the shifter between us.

He stayed silent for too long, and when I gave him a measured stare, he answered almost immediately, eyes wide in alarm. “Yes, Sir, I can.”

“Good. This is what we’re going to do. You’re going to take my truck and get food and deliver it to your brother. When you’re done, you can come back to pick me up.” I unbuckled my seat belt and turned toward him. With a small smile, I held out my hand. “I’m going to handle Xadrian. Give me your keys.”

“Sir—”

“I don’t want arguments, Pretty. I want you to say yes, Sir like you usually do.”

He hesitated and chewed on his bottom lip before he inclined his head. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.” I slid out of the truck, leaving the keys in the ignition, then went to his side to open the door. “Go. Call me when you get back here to make sure it’s safe. Understood?”

He got out of his seat and stared up at me carefully. A range of emotions flickered over his face and his eyes seemed to hold all the fear in the world. “What if he hurts you, Sir?”

I snorted out a laugh. “I can handle Xadrian.” Cupping his face, I did something new. I kissed him gently for reassurance. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

He squinted, mouth pursed in concern, but he didn’t argue any further. He went around to the driver’s side of the truck and hopped up into the seat, then closed the door. Slowly, he drove off, but I could see him checking in the rearview and side mirrors as though making sure that I wouldn’t change my mind.

I left the sidewalk and stormed up the path that led to the front door. There wasn’t anything amazing about this building. It was simple white cinderblock stained by years of wear and tear. The front entrance had two doors with thick glass arches on the top halves, but one of them was cracked, the spiderweb of fractures spreading across the length. When I tried to open that door, it didn’t budge, but the second did, and I entered through that one.

Inside was grubby, to say the least, with polished cement stairs scuffed from heavy use. The walls were white and grimy, and there wasn’t anything warm about it. The entrance looked more like a prison than a home.

I jogged up three flights of steps before I found his apartment and unlocked the door. As soon as I entered, there was a clatter from a different room.

“Where the hell have you been, fucker?” Xadrian stalked out of what I thought was the kitchen and froze when his attention landed on me. “What the fuck?”

There wasn’t anything amazing about Xadrian, and while I could see how someone might find him attractive with his narrow face and bright blue eyes, the permanent sneer ruined everything about his appearance. His short dark hair was perfectly styled, and while he came across as professional, he was anything but. From what I’d heard, he and his bestie in this mess, Hartlee, hadn’t been able to get a job since they’d flounced out of the company. No one wanted to work with troublemakers and news traveled fast in St. Loren.

I smirked and crossed my arms. “Hello, Xadrian.”

“Guthrie.” He glared, shiny black shoes bringing him to me as he took a few steps. He was dressed to impress, with a navy button-down shirt and black pants, but while he usually had a jacket on, too, it was currently thrown over the back of Wade’s threadbare couch. Xadrian had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and he crossed his arms, making them look bigger. “What are you doing here?”

I took a moment to study my surroundings. Wade’s home was lived in, but it was sparse without much furniture. A two-seater crimson couch, a small TV, and a half-filled build-it-yourself bookshelf adorned the room. A couple of photos hung on the wall that I wasn’t close enough to see properly. In the dining area was a round white table with one light brown wooden chair, and I winced at the clashing colors.

Focusing back on Xadrian, I squared my shoulders. “I would think that Wade not answering you would send you a message about how he feels.”

Xadrian clenched his jaw. “And I can see why. Do you like the way he sucks your cock, Guthrie?” He rolled his eyes. “Wade’s good at getting what he wants that way. He makes you feel like you’ve got a puppy on your hands, and then when push comes to shove, instead of following you, he goes back to the boss and begs for his job. Did he get on his knees for Wick Guidry?”

I laughed, ignoring the sensation of anger boiling my blood. The moment I showed my hand was when he won, and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. It was easier to be the cold person my ex claimed I was. “If he did, you should thank him. You’re damned lucky Mr. Guidry didn’t come after you for the completed project plans you stole. I was there. I found the evidence against you. The accusations would’ve stuck. On second thought, don’t talk to Wade at all. He isn’t your business anymore. He belongs to me now.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” He gave me a slow once-over, mouth curling in disgust. “Sawyer will take any cock offered to him, as long as it comes with a promotion.”

“Well then, I guess yours is out of the competition, since you can’t get a job.” I smirked at the downright furious expression that passed over his face. His nostrils flared, and his already tight jaw twitched. He took a step back, hands curling into fists at his sides, and I took pleasure in the sight before me. After what he’d done to the boss, I would take any win over him.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you, Guthrie? First you got my job, then you got my piece of ass.” Xadrian’s eyes darkened. “But you’ve got nothing but my sloppy seconds.”

“Then why are you here?” I asked, genuinely amused at his every attempt to insult me. I didn’t let little men like Xadrian get to me. Usually. His digs at Wade were toeing a line, though. I had pride in things I owned, especially my sub. “Why did you ask to fuck him if you didn’t want him anymore?” I gestured around the apartment. “If this is what you want, Xadrian, then you really are desperate.”

Xadrian took a step toward me, but I raised my palm, effectively stopping him.

“Touch me, and I will destroy the last remnants of who you are.” I lifted one finger. “First, I’ll go after you for assault and you’ll be arrested with a criminal record.” Another finger went up. “Second, I will sue you for emotional damage, and Wade will be at my side, watching every minute of the final descent of your downfall.” I turned my hand so the back was faced toward him and raised another finger so the three middle ones were up before flipping him the bird. “And third, I will talk to my friend. You might know him. His name is Massimo Sabbatini. He has a famous family around this city. Now I can’t promise what they’ll do to you, but it probably won’t be pretty. It’s good to have connections like Massimo.” I winked.

His hesitation was the only answer I needed. I stepped back and opened the door.

“It’s time for you to leave, Xadrian. If you attempt to contact Wade again, you will regret it.” I held out my hand. “Keys.”

His face flushed red in fury, but he didn’t argue. He yanked the keys out of his pocket and threw them at me, and they bounced off my chest. With a glare, he stormed past me, knocking his shoulder against mine, and I let him have the free shot because he really didn’t have anything else left. His harsh footsteps echoed in the hallway as he stomped down the concrete stairs, and I chuckled as I closed the door again and went to pick up the keys from the floor.

Now that I was alone, I took more time to study the apartment. I walked over to the few photos on the wall. The first photo was of two boys, no older than ten. One of them was clearly Wade, with his big hazel eyes, short golden hair, and a wide familiar smile. The second, though, was obviously a relative, probably the brother if I had to guess. Wade had his arm wrapped around his brother’s shoulders and they stood close together, and while Wade was all grins and happiness, the brother was morose with haunted eyes.

The second photo was strangely plain, merely a small house in the middle of what appeared to be a farm. It was probably more appropriate to call it a shack, but it was clearly old and one gust of wind could’ve brought it to the ground. In front of the house was a bed of petunias, and there was something peaceful about it, regardless of how old the place looked.

I frowned and my curiosity grew. Sighing, I tugged my phone out of my pocket and found the number Massimo had sent me. I tapped on Adrian’s contact and placed the phone to my ear. A few moments later, he answered.

“Adrian Valentini.”

“Adrian, I’m not sure if you remember me, but I’m Massimo’s friend, Albion.”

He snorted. “Right. The Dom friend. What can I do for you?”

I stared at the photo of the house and something told me it had meaning. “I know you have your security business, and your main services are bodyguards and security measures for homes, but I was hoping you still did some PI work.”

He stayed silent for a moment before he hummed. “What kind of work are we talking?”

“Background check. As much information as you can get on someone.” I kept walking around the living room and stopped in front of the bookshelf. The books were dusty, as if he hadn’t picked one up in a while, and they were mostly classics. Edgar Allan Poe and Charles Dickens. I ran my fingertips along the spine of a well-worn copy of A Christmas Carol.

“I usually don’t do background checks.” Adrian’s bored tone made me wince, but I didn’t let it offend me. Every Sabbatini I’d met—or in this case Valentini—had a wall up, and whether it came with the territory of being a suspected mobster or not, I didn’t know. “But seeing as you’re Massimo’s friend, I can make an exception. It won’t be cheap.”

“I have the money,” I answered without hesitation.

“My kind of client.” There was a smirk in Adrian’s voice now. “I’ll send you to a secure payment portal and give you the amount I’m willing to take for this job. All money must be received before I send my guys out to do the work. They’re former military and good at recon and finding out secrets some may not want anyone to know. I won’t waste their time, and I expect you not to waste mine.”

I held in the urge to laugh at his directness. He was definitely Massimo’s cousin. “I’ll send through the cash as soon as I have the details.”

“Good. You’ll hear from my personal assistant, Kiran, within a week. Good night.” The phone call ended.

I kept wandering, taking in the frayed furnishings with displeasure. No, this wouldn’t do. I refused to let Wade stay here.

My phone buzzed, and like I’d promised Adrian, I immediately transferred a large sum from my bank account to his business.

Albion: Done. The name of the man I want information on is Wade Lee Sawyer. I’ll send the rest of the details I have by text first thing tomorrow.

Adrian: Good. You’ll hear from us soon.

Satisfied, I walked toward what I assumed was Wade’s room. It appeared the apartment only had one bedroom because the only other door opened into a small, decrepit bathroom containing a cracked toilet bowl and a narrow shower cubicle.

I opened the door to the bedroom and walked in, unimpressed and downright irritated with what I saw. The space wasn’t much bigger than the bathroom and only had a single bed with a tall set of drawers. There was no closet to hang his suits and no window to get fresh air. The puke-colored paint on the walls was peeling and I didn’t trust it not to be contaminated with lead.

My phone buzzed again, but this time it was a call. I answered when I saw Wade’s name. “Yes?”

“Sir, I’m back.”

I acknowledged him with a grunt. “Come upstairs.” I ended the call without waiting for an answer.

Five minutes later the front door opened and closed, and Wade appeared at the threshold of the bedroom. He twisted his hands together, wincing while he peered around as though he couldn’t bring himself to look at me. Finally, he ducked his head.

“Sir?”

I strode toward him and stopped right before our shoes touched. Hooking my finger under his chin, I raised his face until our gazes met. “Pack as many clothes as you can. Only decent clothes. You’re coming to stay with me.”

His eyes widened. “I don’t understand.”

“What do you understand about a BDSM lifestyle, Pretty?” I shifted closer and trailed my finger down his cheek.

He shuddered and swallowed visibly. “That you’re my Dom and I do what you say.”

“Hm, yes, I suppose that’s right, but it’s more than that. This isn’t permanent, don’t get me wrong. I don’t particularly like you.” I didn’t miss the hurt that flashed in his eyes, but I ignored it. Cold. That’s what my ex called me. I had a wall up for a reason, and it was best to be like the Sabbatinis. Unfeeling. “But while we’re playing, I strive to have my sub’s full attention. If you live in this squalor, you will forever be distracted.”

He winced in embarrassment, another flood of red spreading across his cheeks.

“I’ll take care of you until this is over, and then you can keep everything I bought you and come back here.” I gestured around the lackluster apartment.

He bit his lip and stared at me in confusion. I supposed it didn’t make sense to someone like him who’d never really been in a relationship like ours—at least, I suspected he was a BDSM virgin—though I wouldn’t consider what we were doing a relationship, either. It was more of a. . . thing. We had a thing.

“Do we have an understanding?”

He nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Grab the nice clothes you have.” I held out my hand. “Keys to the truck.”

He frowned but passed them over like I’d asked.

With that, I strode past him. I paused at the threshold of the bedroom and glanced over my shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the truck. Don’t take long. I’m impatient.”

He gave me a slow glance, expression sadder than I’d expected after I’d told him I would let him live in my nice apartment. He forced a smile. “Yes, Sir.”

Guilt steamrolled me, but I shoved it away, deep inside with the rest of the emotions I refused to feel. It was safer that way for both of us.

I left him there to pack.

13

WADE LEE

What is happening? What is happening!?

What.

Is.

Happening?

I sucked in a deep breath as I followed Albion into his apartment. This was starting to feel normal, which was also super odd. I held my duffel bag close to my side and snuck into the apartment hot on his heels. Albion barely looked back at me, except to flick his fingers toward the door, and I rushed to shut and lock it—hoping that was what he’d wanted from me.

He didn’t have anything stern to say, so I must’ve interpreted his desires correctly.

A happy jolt blasted through me and had me feeling a little better.

Staring at Albion’s profile, I bit my lip and tried not to let my admiration for his strong jaw and shoulders make me stupid. This man didn’t like me. He wasn’t even shy about saying that. He thought I was lower than dirt.

A thrill shivered through me and danced in my stomach.

Hell, what is wrong with me?

I brushed off that question because I’d never been able to answer it. There was something both sick and sexy about the way he so casually told me I didn’t matter. He didn’t give me anything—on any level—that wasn’t raw and his real, unfiltered self. There were no nice lies. It was all brutal, just like having sex with Albion had been so far.

There was something good about that honesty, though I couldn’t put my finger on what. When my parents had died, I’d been subjected to a lot of pleasant platitudes and zero action from the adults in my life. This experience was the opposite of whatever the hell that had been.

Gently, I let my bag slide from my shoulder to the floor with a small thud.

Albion wandered in the direction of the kitchen. “Put your belongings in my room, then shower and come out here. Don’t bother with clothes. I want to see all that soft, smooth skin I paid for,” he said, not even glancing over his shoulder.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, yanking my bag back onto my shoulder again.

“Hurry, Pretty.”

Pretty. He’d said that more than once today, and it was such a wild difference from Shoelicker. I had whiplash, but I loved it. Why was Albion being so nice now? He cleared his throat, and I jumped, rushing to follow his orders. I flung the bag near his dresser and hustled into the shower. I was quick but thorough as I washed every nook and cranny he might decide he wanted to touch—and my body felt strangely tender after all the hair removal today. The water felt hotter than usual, even though it was the temperature I normally used, and the washcloth was rougher—and oddly more sensual—especially as I began to think about what Albion might want to do to me.

My cock decided to get in on the action. I moaned as the water pounded against my hard-on. It was all too much, but I knew without Albion ever telling me that if I gave in and dumped a load in the shower, not only would he somehow know, more accurately than any psychic, he would make me regret it. With an inhuman amount of strength, I left my dick alone to bounce around in front of me while I finished scrubbing.

Drying off was an ordeal with my oversensitive skin, and I gritted my teeth. I stared at my duffel bag. He’d told me to go out into the kitchen naked, but the idea made me feel uncomfortable, so I went to the bag and pulled out a pair of boxers. I made it all the way to the bedroom door before I winced and shoved the boxers off again. I didn’t want to upset Albion over something so silly that was completely within my control. Better leave that for the bigger things. I had trouble looking at anything except my feet while I walked out into the living room, then on into the kitchen.

Albion was pacing back and forth near the island with a red coffee mug firmly in his hand, and he stopped to stare at me when I made it to the threshold between the rooms. He drained his mug in one long swallow, then thunked it down onto the counter. His intense gaze settled on my straining cock and had my blood boiling in my veins.

Even if Albion didn’t like me, he couldn’t get enough of looking at me, and I loved that.

He did this thing where he stared and stared, and my cock was all I could think about and felt ten times bigger than it had ever been in my life. Sweat broke out on my body as I repeatedly talked myself out of reaching for my hard-on. My hands flexed at my sides. I wriggled my fingers to give them something to do that wouldn’t get me into trouble.

Albion let out a lungful of air that sounded like a bull snorting, then rushed over and grabbed me by the back of the neck. I stumbled, and he slid his arm around my waist. Next thing I knew, he hoisted me onto the counter and set me there on my ass. With a smirk, he settled his hands on the counter on either side of me.

“You were a good boy today,” he murmured, glancing down at my body.

Heat swirled in my cheeks and I rubbed my neck. I wasn’t sure what to say or if he even wanted me to speak. Before I could get myself together to make a mess of things, Albion leaned in. I closed my eyes, breathing out softly as his lips covered mine. I was shocked because Albion was usually brutal and quick with me, but he ate my mouth like it was his last meal on death row and slid his hands slowly up and down my sides. I’d never had a kiss this good. There wasn’t a place in my mouth his tongue didn’t map, and he teased me into chasing back into his mouth before fucking into mine again.

My cock brushed his jeans, which was almost too much, and I realized he’d slipped between my spread thighs and pressed close to me. His hips caressed against my inner thighs where the hair had been removed earlier. I shuddered because the skin was so sensitive. It was a wild, not quite painful sensation that had me hyperfocused on every point of my body where we touched.

“Listen up, pretty slut,” Albion said, then kissed up my jaw to sink his teeth into my earlobe.

I shuddered and kicked my feet involuntarily.

“Are you listening?” he grated into my ear.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, feeling dazed.

“You’re mine. You signed my contract.” Without warning, he sank his teeth hard into the right side of my neck. It hurt and felt good at the same time, and I squirmed all around on the counter, not knowing what to do. Finally, I gripped his shoulders and cried out. When he unclamped his teeth, it almost hurt worse than the initial bite. I panted as my cock throbbed in a wonderful counterpoint to the agony he’d created in my body.

“Yes, Sir,” I finally gasped out.

He settled harsh hands onto my thighs and moved them wider. “If you spread these pretty fucking legs for that asshole I had to deal with tonight, you will regret it.” He glared directly into my eyes.

“Yes, Sir,” I said on a sigh.

Either he really liked or hated my answer, I couldn’t tell, since his response was to sink his teeth into the left side of my neck and do the same terribly fantastic thing to that side—balancing out the excruciating, wonderful pain he’d already created. My nipples were strangely achy, and my cockhead was the only thing on my body worth considering. I thrust wildly but didn’t brush against him because he put his hands on my hips and held me down.

“Yes, Sir,” I said in between sobs, not even sure what I was agreeing to right now.

There would be purple bruises on my neck tomorrow. Everyone would notice them. A thrill shot through me. They wouldn’t know Albion had done this, but they would know someone wanted me and thought I was worth taking apart. Pride washed over me, a brand-new sensation that had never entered into sex for me in the past.

Albion let out a small growl as he licked my neck, and hot precum leaked down the sides of my cock, driving me wild.

“I’m going to give you something to think about the next time a man tells you to let him in your ass. Something to give you some courage to tell him to fuck off.” Albion spat the words in my ear, and this time he did sound angry.

I gasped as he pushed me back so that I had to catch myself from falling onto the counter. He latched his mouth around my nipple and sucked, then slowly began to bite, just the way he had on my neck, cranking his jaw tighter until I thought I was going to shake apart. I’d had hair removed from around my nipples today, nothing too visible, but it was enough that this lit up the inside of my brain and made me feel like I was melting. My cock pulsed, a magic wand that was barely connected to the rest of my body.

Fuck, I wanted him to play with it.

I trembled my way through the same treatment of my other nipple, and he was clearly on a mission to prove something. He didn’t give me a chance to catch my breath before he nipped his way up to my neck and began to suck bruises around it. He was giving me what would eventually be a plum-colored necklace I couldn’t remove, and I fucking loved it. The pressure, the pain, the heat of his determined mouth on my skin—it was a vicious delight.

When he dropped his hand to my dick and began to flick his thumb gently over my cockhead, I let out a sound that was close to a scream, but he didn’t stop or even look up from his work. He kept plastering his marks across my skin. I trembled from the tips of my toes to the top of my head when he bent and sucked a deep bruise directly over my heart.

He didn’t even like me, according to him, so what did that mean?

I gave up trying to work out his motives and basked in the rush of warmth that was starting to take over the pain he plastered onto my body. It was all beginning to feel good. My limbs were loose and my breathing was a wreck. My skin dripped with sweat.

I couldn’t remember a time when I wasn’t hard, could barely twitch without wanting to come.

Albion pushed me back farther until I was almost flat on the counter and nibbled his way across my abs until he got to the newly smooth area directly above my cock. He glanced up at me and sucked hard near the root of my shaft. The stubble on his chin grated on my wood, sending sparks of needy fire careening through my groin and belly.

This was it.

This was the way I would die.

I whimpered and rocked my hips, and he went back to holding me firmly in place so he could do whatever he wanted to me—the way he should. I belonged to him.

When he was finished torturing that spot, he glanced up and grinned. “Look at you, you pretty slut. Aw, you can’t keep these thighs closed, and this is what happens when you don’t. Some bad man—” He nipped the spot he’d been sucking, and tears slid out of the corners of my eyes. “—will come along and take advantage of you.”

“They’re only open for you, Sir,” I whispered, not sure where the courage had come from.

Albion’s eyebrows quirked, and with a small smirk, he dropped to his knees. I got the feeling he hadn’t even been trying yet. He laid a line of deep reddish welts along the inside of my right thigh, evilly ignoring my weeping cock, which was only leaking slightly less than my eyes. I didn’t mean to be crying, but I was having trouble seeing him through the constant stream of tears that began to roll down my face.

I wasn’t sure why this was happening because I felt like I was being tossed around in a cloud. Soft waves of ecstasy lapped at me and almost sent me over the edge time and again, especially when he locked his lips on my skin and sucked hard. He did the same thing to the other thigh, and I yelped when he attacked the back of my left knee.

“It’s ticklish, Sir,” I growled out, almost kicking, and he left that alone, thank God, but the amused gleam in his eyes had me worried he would remember that for later.

He kissed up high, near the vee of my left leg and groin, and I snapped. My right hand drifted toward my cock, and he snagged it.

“No,” he said simply, then sucked and bit until a bruise formed on the back of my hand. I thought I was going to come watching his tongue swipe across my knuckles, and then he did the same thing to my other hand until they matched. I wouldn’t be able to do anything tomorrow without thinking of this moment. These bruises weren’t to show off to anyone else, they were a reminder to me of his authority.

His power.

His control over me.

He nipped my knuckles. “I was going to blow you, but then you tried to touch something that belonged to me,” he said, tone cold.

“No, no, no, please, Sir.” I whimpered and shook and sobs racked me. My cock was so hard. It was all I could concentrate on. I’d never felt like this—good and terrible and strange all at once.

Albion smirked. “On your feet for your punishment.” He tugged on my hand.

“Yes, Sir.” I nearly crumpled to the floor when my feet touched it, but he kept me upright and turned me to face the counter. I clung there for support, cock bobbing in front of me, the center of my universe.

He pushed me farther forward, and I squealed when he spread my asscheeks, then began to suck a love bite on my right cheek in the crevice. I wouldn’t be able to sit, stand, or walk tomorrow without a subtle ache reminding me of him. I pounded my fist against the counter and cried out, but he didn’t stop, only moved to do the same thing to the other side. Albion seemed to like symmetry.

An overwhelming ecstasy forced another sob out of my throat as Albion finally swiped his tongue over my hole. I collapsed forward and hung there, held in place mostly by Albion’s hands on me as he devoured my asshole. I’d never had anyone touch me quite this way. It was sloppy and wonderful and dirty. He shoved his tongue inside me, and I loved the sensation of being penetrated by his warm heat, so much better than a toy.

My cock pulsed—so close.

Almost there. I thrust back against him, and he slapped my asscheek but didn’t stop me from doing it.

Spit dripped down the back of my balls in quickly cooling rivulets, and I felt used and owned and it was fucking perfect. Heat rolled through me, like having an orgasm but not quite. Everything felt better than I’d ever known it could.

He drove his tongue deep and the sensation crested. I yelled and shook and was barely aware of my balls pumping out cum. He kept going, fucking me with his tongue and loosening my hole so he would be able to slide in there and pound me as soon as he chose to do it.

This was all about what he wanted and what he was willing to give me, and I rode that knowledge and the clenching bliss of my muscles for what felt like hours before I began to come back down. I was still in a spacey, perfect spot in my head I’d never visited, and I never wanted it to end.

“So fucking pretty,” Albion growled out.

He stood and did something, put his arms around me. I wasn’t entirely certain what happened—couldn’t describe the way he’d defied gravity if my life depended on it—but he somehow managed to scoop me up into his arms, even though I flopped around like an overcooked noodle. Once he finally had me situated in his grip, he tucked me close to his chest. His black T-shirt felt rough against my skin—especially the spots he’d marked with lips, teeth, and tongue—but I loved the smell of it when I buried my nose against him and inhaled deeply.

He laid me down on the bed, and by the time I was aware of my surroundings, one of his hands was already at his waist, lowering his zipper. He tugged out his cock and didn’t get undressed, and I loved that, too, because I was spread out for him naked, and he could fuck me, then go do anything. Totally in control of his life.

“Sir?” I asked.

He shushed me and grabbed the lube from his nightstand, along with a condom. I licked my lips as he slicked up his fingers, then closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of him carefully stretching my ass. I sighed into the slick pressure, not quite as nice as his tongue, but still good. I was out of it for a while, gently drifting on the bliss he poured through my body, but then he slid a condom over his cock and lifted my legs up to press them against my chest. I was able to look down at my erection, already stiff again and thrusting up against my belly, and beyond to see him carefully plunge his hard-on into my ass.

The sensation of being filled with such a stiff cock was a lot to handle, and I scrabbled at his arms, but he kept going until he was buried in my body up to his balls. He rocked back slowly, then eased in again.

“What are you doing, Sir?” I asked, unable to keep my mouth from letting the stupid question free into the air between us.

“Taking care of you.”

I whimpered and focused on the stretch and slight burn in my hole.

“You’re mine for now,” he murmured, then attacked my mouth, thrusting his tongue in deep.

Tendrils of golden sparks danced through my body and set me on fire again. I slid my fingers behind his neck and rubbed there, and that seemed to be some signal he interpreted as fuck me as hard as you can, which was really goddamned good. The expensive bed creaked under the power of his chaotic thrusts. The pummeling my prostate took had me crying out and dancing on the edge of another potent orgasm. Time slid away from us, and he went from using his body to bounce mine against the bed to sensually rolling his hips.

Albion growled and nipped at the bruise on the right side of my neck, then sank his teeth into the exact same spot again. A white light glowed inside my body, something directly from heaven. I exploded and came—felt like I lost consciousness for a while, even though I knew he kept fucking me, which made everything better.

“Thank you, Sir,” I mumbled.

Albion stiffened. “Oh, fuck, you’re such a pretty, sweet little slut,” Albion grunted out, then shoved so deep into my body that I yelled. It didn’t quite hurt, but it wasn’t something I would forget anytime soon. I held on to him and kissed his cheek while he shivered and groaned, pumping his hips a few more times, but then returning to that same position where his body was locked as far into mine as it could go.

After a few minutes, Albion rolled to the side, pulling out of me. I hissed at the sensation of being empty, but I supposed there was no better way to do that. He took care of the condom, tossing it into a garbage can next to the bed, then tugged me in close, holding me as if I was special to him. My heart felt strange. I knew he didn’t like me. He’d told me. But his arms were comfortable and strong around me. He slid his hand into my hair.

Burying my nose against his shirt, I inhaled his cologne and hummed.

“You will tell me immediately if Xadrian tries to contact you again,” he said, staring resolutely up at the ceiling.

“Yes, Sir.” A bit of fear twisted inside me at his harsh tone. I didn’t want to get into trouble with him because of something that was totally outside of my control.

Albion squeezed me. “Are you my pretty boy?” he asked.

Panicking, with some strange sensation squirming in my gut, I did nothing. Said nothing.

He nipped my ear. “Are you my shoelicker?” he growled.

Moaning, I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

Kissing my cheek, he held me tight, and for a while we lay there together in a nice silence that didn’t feel awkward. He pressed a kiss to my temple.

“Every relationship has an expiration date,” he said, as if we’d been having a conversation and this perfectly explained some point he’d been trying to make. “I’m doing a reasonable thing by keeping that clear between us.” His tone drifted into icy territory.

Nuzzling in closer, I thought back to the times in my life when I’d been happy. When my grandparents were alive. Before my brother got sick. They were good. No one had been rich and there were still struggles, but nothing had seemed too bad, either.

Shrugging, I finally glanced up at his face. “As long as you’re enjoying our time while we have it, Sir.”

He blinked at me, then used his hand on the back of my neck to nudge my head to his chest again, and he held me that way for a long while.

14

ALBION

I woke up, or more like startled to consciousness, from a terrifying nightmare.

Shit. I couldn’t remember what it was about, but my father’s face flashed through my mind, gaunt and pale, the remnants of the man I once knew as his illness stole him away. I hadn’t dreamed about him in weeks, but last night had sent me into a spiral of realization that I refused to believe. Sex was physical—nothing more or less—and yet something invisible drew me closer to Wade. The emotional attachment was so powerful that it nearly brought me to my knees when he’d finally given himself completely to me.

If I thought his submission was remarkable before, it was nothing compared to the way his supple body had danced as I’d touched and laid claiming bites all over him. It was as though he was born to respond to my fingers, and I hated how much that tugged me in tighter to him.

The nightmare, and Dad’s face, was a reminder of what happened when I let people close—a world-shattering pain that drove me into a sea of loneliness. If it hadn’t been for Massimo and his resistance to my grief-stricken insults, I would still be there, wallowing in the depths of depression. My parents had been my strength, and while Mom’s death had hurt, it was Dad’s that had nearly killed me completely.

It was the kind of pain I wouldn’t let myself feel again. I wouldn’t lose again because I wouldn’t love again. The coldness that my ex accused me of was my wall against the sorrow, and I wasn’t letting it crumble for anyone, especially not Wade Lee Sawyer.

I rubbed a palm over my tired eyes and glanced at the bed beside me. Frowning, I stared at the empty mattress. Ignoring my nudity—I liked sleeping without clothes—I threw back the blankets and rose. The air conditioner blasted the room because it’d been hot last night, and the cold air swirled around the bedroom as I stalked through the sliding door toward the living room. Some unreasonable part of me thought Wade had disappeared, left me in the middle of the night, and when I saw his figure standing in front of my display shelf, relief washed through me.

His fingers stroked a wooden ornament Massimo had given me as a joke after he’d visited Italy with his family. It was shaped as a large cock with big balls, and it stood tall and proud in the center of the other tidbits I’d gotten here and there. Beside the cock ornament was a paper award protected in a picture frame, and Wade’s fingers slowly moved to it next.

Dressed in only a pair of boxers, his hairless skin littered with my claiming bites shone under the morning sun that peeked through the windows, and despite what he was touching, I couldn’t help but stop a moment to appreciate the lines of his back and the dimples above his hips that I’d discovered last night. Every time I explored his body, I learned more about it, and I was addicted.

“What are you doing?” I snapped, harsher than I’d meant to sound.

Wade jumped, his hand knocking the award, and it wobbled. My heart crashed against my ribs, and I jolted forward, but Wade managed to grab the frame before it hurtled to the floor.

“Oh my God.” His chest heaved and he gasped. “That was close.”

Anger surged inside me, but I didn’t move, scared of what I would do if I got anywhere near him. There weren’t many possessions I owned that belonged to Dad anymore, but that award was one I cherished. Dad had won it when he was twenty after he’d entered his classic Mustang into a competition. He often showed it to me as a child, crowing about the one award he cherished above everything else in his collection of memories. When the time had come to sell his belongings, it was something I couldn’t give up.

“I’m sorry.” Wade shot around to look at me, eyes wide and bottom lip popped out. He gripped the award, knuckles white. “I didn’t mean to, Sir.”

“Put it back,” I murmured in a low tone, fists curled at my sides. I would never intentionally hurt him in ways meant to truly harm, but the fury that thrummed in my blood had me frozen in place, too scared of what I would do if I got closer to him. I would be mad at anyone who’d touched that award. “Now.”

His hands shook as he placed the frame back on the shelf beside the cock ornament, and then he turned toward me, fingers clasped together in front of himself. He bowed his head forward until his chin touched his chest. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

I exhaled, nostrils flaring. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths. “What are you doing? Snooping?”

“I’m not,” he said quickly, barely letting me finish my sentence. The desperation in his voice had me opening my eyes again to stare at him. He rubbed a hand over his chest above his heart and switched between staring at the floor and me, as if he couldn’t quite decide which was the better place to anchor his gaze. Bruises littered his chest and belly and stood out in the morning light as low as his thighs, a visual reminder of what I’d done to him last night, how thoroughly I’d claimed him as my own. “I was only looking.”

“It’s called snooping. This—” I gestured widely around the room. “—is my home. My possessions. By looking at them, you were snooping.”

“You made me come here. I didn’t want to, but you told me to,” he snapped, surprising me into blinking at him. He flushed but kept his chin raised. Pride swelled in my chest. At least he had some fire in him. “If you didn’t want me to look, you shouldn’t have told me to stay here. Or you should’ve hidden them.”

“Or maybe you should learn manners,” I whispered, forcing myself to finally step forward. The anger bled away, leaving a fiery swirl of desire at the sight of his resistance. It was almost as perfect as his submission. “Did I give you permission to walk around my living room and stare at my belongings?”

“Did I give it to you?” he answered harshly. “I’m sure you looked at my stuff last night.”

“Enough,” I said simply, my voice calm.

He paused and licked his lips, the nervousness returning.

“What makes you think you can talk to me like this, Shoelicker? So, I finally fucked you, and you think you have rights?”

He opened his mouth.

“No. You are still my dirty little slut. The hole I can use however I want. My shoelicking traitor.”

A tremble swept through him and he cupped himself through his boxers. My gaze slid down to where he hid his cock, probably hardening with every insult I threw at him. I grinned. Perfect. I shifted forward until I was in front of him and grabbed his face between my fingers, popping out his lips with the force.

“You are my cock-sucking whore. You are mine. Do you understand?”

He nodded, but it wasn’t good enough.

I squeezed harder and a gasp slipped from his mouth. I reached down with my other hand and pinched his nipple, twisting the nub, and he mewled, shivering. “Do. You. Understand?”

“Ye. . . . Yes, Sir.” He trembled roughly and whimpered, tears beading at the corners of his eyes. “Yes, Sir. Please.”

I ignored his begging for more. “Did you read the contract at all, Wade?”

A feeble sound tumbled from between his lips, and he wriggled his chest, trying to get away from my nipple torture, but it didn’t work. I tweaked his nub harder, and he cried out. “No. . . . No, Sir.”

“I didn’t think so.” I clicked my tongue in disappointment. “Because if you had, you would have read the conditions that state that we are purely physical. You don’t get to know who I am. You don’t get to find out my past or present. If you think there’ll come a time when you’ll meet my friends, then you’re mistaken. You are nothing but a pretty little sub to fuck. You signed that agreement.” I twisted his nipple harder, and the sound that came out of him was a scream mixed with pleasure and pain, and finally, I let go.

His gasps erupted in shuddery breaths and he whined in the back of his throat. “Sorry, Sir. I’ll do better.”

I hummed. “You will. I was going to let you shower with me and suck my cock, but now you’re going to sit at the table and read that contract. By the time I’m done in the bathroom, I want you to answer any question about the contract I ask with accuracy. Am I clear?”

He exhaled, eyes watery. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Go sit over there.” I pointed at the dining table and grinned when he went straight over to the chair and sat down. He glanced at me, waiting, and I left the room, heading into my office to pull out the contract from the bottom drawer of my desk. When I came back, I dropped the paperwork in front of him and tapped it. “Read carefully. I will ask questions.”

With that, I left him there and headed to the bathroom. I jumped straight into the shower, switching on the knobs until the warm water sprayed out of the showerhead and onto my already hot body. Desire swirled low in my stomach and even farther south, and my cock plumped as I thought about the pain that had passed over his face while I’d twisted his nipple.

I traced my fingers down my chest, over my abs, and to my cock, wrapping the length in a firm grip. Stroking gently at first, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the white-tiled wall. I smirked as Wade’s whines echoed in my memory, along with the way he’d shuddered under my touch. His responses were perfect, the kind I’d always craved in a sub. He was born to be mine, and as long as I ignored the fact of who he was, it could always be like this.

Fun.

Pleasurable.

No attachments.

I threw my head back and it knocked against the wall. I groaned, jerking my clenched palm down my cock. The thoughts of his sweet, tight ass and the way he fell apart for me last night were my undoing, and a few quick strokes was all it took before I came. I tensed, moaned, and watched as my stream of cum swirled down the drain with the water.

I rolled the kinks out of my shoulders and took the time to wash thoroughly. When I was done, I turned off the shower and stepped out. I grabbed a towel and dried off, then strolled into the bedroom to slip on my suit for work. Instead of the usual gray. . . everything, I picked out a rare vibrant tie—which happened to be crimson striped with a band of cream. Once I was satisfied with my attire, I headed back out to the dining room where Wade hadn’t moved. His attention was fully on the contract, panic taking over his face when he finally peeked up to see me.

“Sir. . . .”

I laughed gently and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Did you read it all?”

He nodded eagerly, but the anxiety grew in his gaze, and I almost felt sorry for him. Shaking my head, I waved toward the bathroom. “Go shower. I believe you.”

He frowned. “Sir, are you not going to test me like you said you were?”

“Nope.” I smirked. “I just wanted to make sure you read it so you understood.”

He pouted, and I laughed harder. When he stood, I slapped him on the ass, and he hissed, a reminder of how sensitive he probably was from all the bites I’d etched into his skin last night.

I watched him carefully, and if my chest went wobbly and warm, I would never admit it because I wasn’t doing that. Absolutely not.

* * *

A week passed with us going about our days as usual. We would wake up, maybe fuck if I was in the mood, go to work—where we kicked ass on our project—come home, have dinner, and then play before going to sleep. On the following weekend, Wade spent Saturday visiting his brother, and on Sunday, we stayed in and fucked before doing some work at home, which was the usual for me.

Wade didn’t complain.

By the time the next Wednesday came around, we had this strange routine that felt. . . horribly domestic in ways that should’ve irritated me but didn’t. Wade fit into my life like a missing puzzle piece, and even as the thought went through my head, I shoved it aside along with the rest of the stupid things I wanted to ignore.

Wade was the prettiest sub I’d ever had. Not necessarily in appearance, but in everything else. His obedience knew no bounds, and every time I expected him to safe word out, he didn’t.

Fuck, that scared the shit out of me.

Massimo, the asshole, loved to point out truths I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“You’ve long passed your boundaries,” he drawled Monday night.

I’d left Wade at home with a prostate massager buzzing in his ass and strict instructions not to touch his cock to teach him a lesson about patience.

“I haven’t,” I retorted. “All my subs have lived with me at some point.”

“But you’ve never been as lenient with them as you have with this one.”

I actually didn’t know what he’d meant because I’d been anything but lenient with Wade. I’d kept him on his toes. Not once did it seem like he’d reached his breaking point. It was as though he egged me on, wordlessly demanding more. He craved my firm hand and even firmer cock.

I glared at the screen of my laptop as my cock throbbed in my suit pants. I was at work, certainly not the place to get a hard-on, yet here I was. Every time my mind drifted to Wade and how pliant he was under my hands, desire took over my body’s every reaction, something that wasn’t fun while trying to make a client happy.

Cursing, I leaned back in my chair in frustration and reached down to give myself a hard squeeze, hoping some painful pressure would relieve my predicament, but it did nothing except make it worse.

Of course.

And Wade wasn’t here to fix it. I’d sent him out with Christie, one of our coworkers, to grab some information from a client.

A knock echoed through my office, and I jerked forward, sliding the chair closer to the desk so whoever it was on the other side of the door wouldn’t notice my situation. “Come in.”

The door opened and Annie gave me a nervous smile. Her blond curls were pulled up into a ponytail at the back of her head today and her makeup was lighter than usual, but she still acted far too young and insecure for this job.

“Sir, a Mr. Shelby is here to see you.”

“Who?” I frowned.

Before she could answer, a young man strode past her and into the office. Dressed in a three-piece burgundy suit, the guy who entered didn’t look old enough to drink, yet he carried himself with an air of importance. He wasn’t very tall, probably barely came up to my shoulders, and had a wide, full mouth with a beauty mark above his right upper lip. His short dark hair was in a simple style that I appreciated. A gold earring hung from his left earlobe and on the right side of his rounded chin was another mole. Ah, yes, he was adorable, if too young for me. He had a folder shoved under his armpit.

“Kiran, Mr. Guthrie. My name is Kiran, and I’m here on behalf of Mr. Valentini.”

I went to stand, but then stopped, remembering my little problem. I waved my hand at my assistant. “It’s fine. Thank you, Annie. I can take it from here.”

Annie nodded, her ringlets jumping with the movement, and left the office again, closing the door behind herself.

I focused on the young man in front of me, curious. “You don’t look old enough to have served in the military and already be at another job.”

Kiran chuckled. “I’m not.” That was all he said as he strode forward and tugged the folder out from under his arm, slapping it on the desk. He gave me a long look, his hazel eyes sparkling knowingly, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on his personality. He seemed both aloof, yet dominant, but there was also some brattiness coming from him with how the corner of his mouth curled mischievously. “This is the information you asked us to find.”

“I thought it would come by email.”

“Too risky. Emails can be hacked.” He tapped the folder. “This is all on you. If you lose it, we will not replace it. What you decide to do with it after you’ve finished reading is up to you. Valentini Security is no longer involved with this data, and it’ll be scrubbed from our records. Am I clear?”

“Hm.” I studied him carefully, stroking my chin, then nodded. “I understand.”

His eyebrows dipped and he raised his chin. “Mr. Valentini thanks you for your business, and he would be grateful if you left a five-star review on Yelp for his company.”

I blinked, confused, because I didn’t think he was a man who needed reviews like that. Valentini Security was already well-known with the rich in St. Loren.

Kiran smirked playfully and winked before he turned and swept from the room, and I stared, even more confused. Was this a joke? Hell if I knew. Yet, I couldn’t help but pick up my phone and text Massimo.

Albion: What’s up with Adrian’s assistant? He made some kind of joke about leaving a Yelp review.

Almost immediately, Massimo responded.

Massimo: Fuck. Fucking brat. Don’t leave a review. And don’t ask Adrian about Kiran. Trust me. That kid’s a menace. Got your info then?

Albion: Yeah.

Massimo: Careful what you do with it. Don’t get attached to him. Snakes don’t evolve into dragons. At the end of the day, they’re still slimy and untrustworthy.

I shook my head at his message and dragged the folder closer. Snakes weren’t slimy, but Massimo hated them, so it made sense he saw them in a negative light. I opened the front flap and the background information hit me from the first page. There was a birth certificate, school awards, degree credentials, social security details, photographs, medical and bank records, and then simple documents of facts.

Almost immediately, I discovered data about his brother, who had a heart defect and copious amounts of hospital debt. Wade wasn’t much better, and according to the bank statement I had in my possession, he paid for medication for his brother, too, putting him in the red. The money transfers also suggested that Wade tried to help his brother with other cash issues.

Wade had his own personal loans, and while I couldn’t assume what they were for exactly, from what I could see already, I figured it was to aid his brother, too. Wade didn’t seem to have much in the way of possessions. He had no car, owned no properties—he rented his apartment. The man had nothing of value.

According to the background check that Adrian and his men put together, his grandparents had owned a farm, probably the same one in the photo I’d seen, but they’d died when he was thirteen in a car accident. Directly after, his parents sold the farm to pay off loans. Wade’s parents had died young, leaving him and his brother with even more financial obligations because they didn’t have life insurance. Wade had been sixteen when they’d died, and his brother was barely a legal adult. The Child Welfare services were so overwhelmed that they’d allowed Wade to stay with his brother without an investigation.

Everything was a disaster.

If Wade hadn’t worked his ass off for good grades and applied for scholarships, he wouldn’t have gone to college.

My chest squeezed as I stared down at another photo of a child. Wade, eyes sad and face drawn with loneliness, and something ached inside me. I stroked the tiny face and cursed his family. And his brother. . . . Well, Wade still went to make sure he ate, which probably meant he cared for him. But according to this file, the brother—Neil—couldn’t hold a job for long. He also smoked according to the covert pictures they had attached. Not exactly healthy for someone with a heart issue.

In terms of Wade’s ex-relationships, he didn’t have many to speak of, and none had been BDSM based, which both made sense and didn’t. He served as a sub so easily. He belonged in this lifestyle.

I flipped the file closed and glared at it. Fuck. How could I make it all right? Something else played on my mind, too, something I didn’t want to give too much thought to. Why don’t I ask him about his life? The voice was my mother’s rational one. She’d always been kind and considerate, and people had loved her. Unlike me. It was easier to hate me and my coldness.

I sighed as a knock echoed on my door again. I took the file and opened a drawer, sliding it inside. “Enter.”

Wade stepped through and swung the door behind himself, though it didn’t fully close. He offered me a timid smile, walking toward me, and then stopped near the desk. Clasping his hands in front of himself, he lowered his chin to his chest.

“We’ve done the job, Sir. Christie suggested I come and ask what you want me to do next.”

“Hm.”

My hard-on had dwindled during my time reading his file, but it wouldn’t take much for it to rage again with Wade standing in front of me, looking particularly submissive. His hair was windswept, his skin a bit pink around the ears and cheeks, and he had a brightness in his eyes.

I stood and walked to him. I cupped his face in my hands and guided his head back so he was staring up at my face. “You can do me.”

The rosy blush on his cheeks deepened, but a smile curved his mouth, soft and touchable, and fuck if it didn’t make my stomach turn warm. Damn it. Despite the unwelcome feelings, I leaned forward and kissed him gently. His lips yielded delightfully under mine. He moaned and pushed himself on his tiptoes, hands reaching for me before stopping short of grabbing my suit lapels.

“You’re a good little slut,” I growled out against his mouth. “Don’t touch me unless I give permission.”

He whined. “Please, Sir.”

“No.” I reached around to slap his ass, and he whimpered. “How do my marks feel on you, Pretty?” I kissed his neck, nipping playfully at his skin, and he rocked against me. “Does your body hurt from my bruises?”

“Yes.” He moaned low in his throat, desperate. “Want more.”

Every night, I gave him more hickeys. I reminded him through bites that he was mine. Xadrian would never touch him or see his beautiful naked body again.

My hands found the curve of his back, above his ass, and I dug my fingers into a spot where I knew he had bite marks. He hissed, jerking forward, and I captured his mouth in a hard kiss again.

Someone groaned, and I wasn’t sure if it was him or me.

“Albion, your assistant wasn’t at the desk, and I was hoping⁠—”

I jumped away from Wade and spun around to face a wide-eyed Maurice.

“Oh.” Maurice visibly swallowed, gaze jumping from me to Wade, and his mouth worked. “I’ll come back.” And then he turned, ambling out the door. He popped his head in again a moment later. “Maybe you should shut the door? I’m pretty sure they all lock. Er, sorry.” He jerked the door closed.

“Fuck!” I grabbed a handful of my hair. This was not how I wanted this to go, but Wade, fucking Wade, made me senseless with lust. Why the hell did I kiss him at work?

Yet, I couldn’t be angry at him. This wasn’t his fault. It was mine.

My shoulders slumped.

“Sir?” Wade’s voice trembled and fear filled his eyes, along with tears. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Yes.” I clenched my teeth. “No. Fuck. Just. . . go help Christie with whatever she’s doing. I need to think.”

His breath stuttered and he left without a word.

The emptiness of the room closed in on me, and I cursed my stupidity. Maurice wouldn’t run back to Wick—he wasn’t that type of man—but still. . . . If I didn’t tell Wick something soon, eventually Maurice might. Which meant I needed to figure out what I was going to do with Wade—and quickly.

What did I feel?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

He was my sub, a plaything, a dirty little slut.

I stalked to my desk, grabbing my phone. I shook my head as I found Massimo’s name.

“What cousin can I put you in contact with now?” Massimo answered, and I knew he was joking, but I wasn’t in the mood.

“What did you mean when you said I was lenient with Wade? I don’t care for him.”

Massimo made a disparaging sound, deep and guttural. “Don’t you?”

I stared at the blank wall of my office, jaw flexing. Fuck, I didn’t know how to answer that. “What’s different about how I treat him compared to the others?”

“Everything,” he drawled. “You bought your former subs pretty things, sure, but you were never interested in their past. You never cared about their laptops.”

“It’s for work,” I argued.

He laughed through the line, and I felt thoroughly judged. “Bring him out to Club K this Saturday. You always let other Doms play with your boys. See if you’ll let it happen with Wade.”

“No,” I snapped. There was the fact that I’d made a point to Wade that I wouldn’t let him meet my friends and become involved in my life. It would be breaking my rules. Yet, a part of me wanted to show him off. “No one else gets to touch him. The shoelicker is mine.”

“Mm-hmm. There’s your answer. Still, bring him to the club. He’ll enjoy it there.”

The line went dead and so did my brain.

I was fucked.

15

WADE LEE

My chest hurt and I rubbed it. I had slunk out of Albion’s office, and instead of doing anything useful I’d begun to walk the hallways. Currently, I was leaning against the wall outside of a cleaning supplies closet with one hand on my knee and the other digging against my chest.

Shit, shit, shit.

The hallway had an ominous vibe to it that I knew was entirely in my own head, but I couldn’t stop wondering if someone was going to jump out of the closet and stab me, horror-movie style. Then I huffed and rolled my eyes. I needed to get a grip.

We’d been seen.

We shouldn’t have been doing that at work.

And worse, Maurice, who reported directly to the owner, was the one to spot us.

Shaking my head, I kept massaging my chest because, sweet baby Jesus, was there even any way out of this that didn’t leave me unemployed and blacklisted in this business? That was the fear I’d had from the start of my time underneath Albion. I’d thought maybe I could get out of the trouble I’d been part of with Xadrian, but maybe it had only been postponing the inevitable.

Maybe there were no second chances. I sighed and carefully straightened. All the bruises on my body ached and I shivered.

I’d already known if I breathed wrong, due to that contract Mr. Guidry’s lawyer had drawn up, he could more or less fire me without consequences. That had mostly been my doing. I hadn’t spoken up and had a backbone when I should’ve, and then things had gone bad. I’d gotten into trouble. It was the way of the world. I let out a long breath.

Well, I could say something now. I didn’t have to repeat old mistakes.

It took me a long time to move, and a few people walked past tapping away on their phones, but nearly everyone had seen me cleaning recently, so no one seemed particularly surprised or interested to spot me standing next to the cleaning closet. Small mercies, I guess. I needed time to get my thoughts in order.

What could I do?

The image of myself on my knees begging flashed through my mind, and I snorted, but that honestly wasn’t a half bad idea. I could ask Maurice not to rat me out to Mr. Guidry. Did I deserve that courtesy? Well, no, but Maurice had never been mean to anyone as far as I knew. Nodding, I walked around the hallways until I was standing in front of Mr. Guidry’s outer office—where Maurice worked—and I tapped gently on the door, so softly a field mouse might not have noticed, but without missing a beat Maurice said, “Come in.”

He didn’t bother keeping his voice down, and I flinched. I didn’t want Mr. Guidry to hear us. I opened the door wide enough to slip inside, then froze under Maurice’s curious stare. He had warm brown eyes and wore thick black glasses, and just now he had his suit jacket off, but still looked business-ready with suspenders and a red bow tie over his white shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. As I stood still, trying not to shrivel up and collapse in a ball on the floor, he crossed his arms on his desk and leaned forward, clearly giving me all his attention.

Shit, if I wanted to do something proactive, now was the time. Maurice seemed more curious than annoyed, but I knew how quickly that could change when people were waiting for me to do something. I skittered to the desk and went around the side so that I was closer to him than was strictly normal, but I really didn’t want anyone to hear me. I leaned even closer, and he sat back in his chair with a whump.

“Please, don’t say anything,” I whispered, then darted my gaze toward the door to Mr. Guidry’s office, hoping Maurice would get the drift.

His jaw firmed, and I could see the cogs spinning in his brain, working overtime. He leaned toward me. “Are you trying to get Albion in trouble? Because this isn’t going to end well for you if you are.” His stern gaze was the type that made me squirm internally. He thought poorly of me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

“No, no, no. Just please don’t say anything. I’m begging you.”

He snorted. “Clearly.”

The longer he studied me, the dumber I began to feel. What was I thinking? He had no reason to help me out or do anything other than run directly to his boss—and boyfriend, assuming they were still together. I didn’t honestly know. I wasn’t one for office gossip—all things considered. I liked doing my job, then going home at the end of the day.

Maurice gave me a tight scowl that smoothed away almost as quickly as it crossed his face. “Listen, I wasn’t planning to do anything with what I saw because I’m no stranger to having my business spread around without my permission.” His face flushed, and my stomach swooped. I hadn’t done the gossiping, but I’d been connected to Xadrian when Maurice and Wick’s relationship had been called to the attention of the office, and hell, I didn’t even blame him for thinking I’d had something to do with that.

He must be feeling pretty smug right about now.

I rubbed my chest and tried to keep steady on my feet. “You don’t understand. I’m not like you. I have to keep this job right now. I don’t have anyone who would be willing to give me a recommendation. I don’t have anything else going for me. I need to dig out from under the bullshit.” I realized I was getting louder and glanced at Mr. Guidry’s office door. “Please, just don’t say anything.”

Maurice drummed his fingertips on his desk and glanced back at the door himself. “By the way you’re acting, I’m beginning to think maybe I should say something. You seem like you have a lot to hide.”

I wanted to reply to that, tell him I didn’t, but the only thing that came out of my mouth was a choked sound and I felt a bit dizzy.

Maurice glanced at the bruise in the middle of my right hand where Albion had worried the spot with his lips and teeth last night, and I quickly slipped it into my pocket. Then realized maybe that looked weird. Hell, I had no idea what to do. I shuffled back a few steps from the desk.

The door behind Maurice—the one to Mr. Guidry’s office—opened, and the man himself stepped out. I flinched and nearly fell over where I stood, which didn’t go a long way toward making me look as if I wasn’t up to no good—or at least, that the no good I was up to was only some necking on company time.

“I’ll, uh, just get back to work,” I squeaked out, then fled the office. I didn’t miss the long looks that Maurice and Mr. Guidry exchanged.

Fuck, I was messing up everything I did today.

Since I’d already royally fucked up what I figured was probably my one shot at staying out of hot water, and probably had earned an immediate dismissal, I went out the side door that was near the parking lot and leaned against the gray brick wall, taking deep breaths. My chest ached, and I rubbed it. It was like I’d swallowed a hot balloon, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to be sick or not.

The door opened, and a couple of people were talking as they walked, probably heading off to have lunch together. I sucked in deep breaths and closed my eyes. The door opened and closed several times, and I just stood there dragging in humid air while sweat gathered on my body.

“Does Albion know you’re out here?” The refined Southern accent, the kind you didn’t hear just anywhere, made me cringe. I opened my eyes to look at Mr. Guidry. Shit, why? Why was this my life? I normally never saw him. Of course, I didn’t usually stand around doing nothing beside doors, either.

I shook my head, the panic rising again, and before I could stop myself, I raised my hands, then cupped the sides of my face. I blew out a long breath. “I’m really sorry for bringing that into the office. It’ll never happen again. Please don’t fire me, and please don’t knock me down to minimum wage. I can’t afford it. I’ll work harder, I swear. I’ll work nights, weekends.” I stood up straight and gasped in a deep breath to keep going, but he cut me off with a long hum.

His eyebrows furrowed. “You know. Maybe you need to go home right now. What do you think about that?” Mr. Guidry cocked his head and frowned at me. He didn’t appear angry at all, which had me deeply confused.

“You’re firing me?” I mumbled, and my neck thudded with my pulse. I stuck a hand out behind myself to touch the side of the building.

He shook his head and his silver hair flopped down onto his forehead. “No, I’m sending you home. You seem to need a break.” His eyebrows danced upward. “What on earth did Albion have you doing today that you’re in such a state?”

My head swam. “Nothing, sir.”

“Right.” He drew out the word, then checked his phone, frowning at whatever he saw on the screen. “Go on home.” He spun around and hurried toward his car, which was parked nearby.

What else could I do? I started walking in the direction of the bus stop, and my chest kept aching. Sweat gathered at my temples and slid down my cheeks. Was I just fired? Wouldn’t I have to sign paperwork if that were the case? Maybe they would mail the paperwork? I massaged my chest while I waited for the bus, and before I knew it, I was en route to my brother’s.

If anyone knew about fucking up and job hunting, it was him, so at the very least, maybe he would be willing to pat me on the back and say bold-faced lies, such as “it’s not your fault” and “you’re better off without that place anyway.” I had no idea what I was going to do, but it was finally a fucking crisis, and I had to figure something out. Groaning, I buried my face in my hands.

Hopefully with me gone, Albion would be all right.

He didn’t have a suspicious history—I did. Hell, he could even blame me, and everyone would believe him. As far as silver linings went, that was pretty awful, but at least it was something. I sighed.

16

ALBION

After my conversation with Massimo, I stalked toward Christie’s office, where I’d sent Wade, only to find he wasn’t there.

“Christie, where’s Wade?” I asked bluntly, and she raised her chin to stare at me with those big doe eyes of hers.

She cocked her head and frowned. “He was on his way to your office earlier.”

“He hasn’t come here since?” Concern prickled at me. We’d been caught by Maurice, and while I wanted to believe Wade wasn’t dumb enough to approach Maurice or the boss, I didn’t have high hopes. Begging for forgiveness seemed to be his thing, and I hated the stinging jealousy that stabbed my insides at the thought of him getting on his knees in front of Wick. Wade was mine, and I refused to let him beg anyone else. Never again.

“No.” She stood from her desk, her blue dress fluttering around her knees. “Should we be worried?”

I shook my head in answer. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.”

Then I left her, not waiting for a response. Wherever Wade was, he was probably freaking out. From what I’d seen in his background check, he needed a stable job for not only himself but his brother, too.

I went back to my office and grabbed my phone from my desk. I called him. Once. Twice. Three times. He didn’t answer.

I sent him a text message next.

Albion: Where are you? I told you to go help Christie.

I wasn’t stupid enough to wait around for a reply. If he didn’t answer my calls, he wasn’t going to respond to my text. Instead, I stormed toward Wick’s office. Before I got there, I stopped to take a deep breath. After about a minute of measured breathing, I pushed open the door and walked over to Maurice’s desk.

He glanced at me and nudged his black-rimmed glasses up with his knuckle, then smiled. “If you’re after Mr. Guidry, he’s gone out.”

I exhaled. “No. Uh, have you seen Wade?”

Maurice blinked at me, confusion twisting his mouth. He stood, his knees hitting the desk on the way up, then walked toward me. “You can’t find him?”

“No. I thought he might’ve come in here to see you.” Now that I’d considered the situation further, the idea was probably stupid. He wouldn’t have begged for forgiveness, right? Fuck. He would have. That was the type of person he was.

“He asked me not to tell Wick,” Maurice murmured with a thoughtful pout. “But then he got a bit loud, and Wick came out, and I had to explain the issue. Wick said he saw Wade outside, and Wick thought you’d really done something bad to him.”

I frowned. “Why would he think that? I made Wade clean, but I would never physically hurt him.”

“Because he seemed really scared. I saw a bruise on Wade’s hand.” Maurice stared at me thoughtfully. “I know he helped Xadrian, but we would never want Wade hurt. That isn’t the kind of people we are here at Émeraude Technologies.”

I winced. “I know it.” Heat spread up my neck. Damn it, why did I have to get so overzealous last night? “It’s a thing between us. He likes it rough, but it’s consensual. He has a safe word.”

“Oh.” A blush spread across Maurice’s cheeks and he laughed nervously. “Oh, right.”

This couldn’t get any more awkward. I wasn’t ashamed of my lifestyle, but Maurice was still my boss’s boyfriend and assistant. I kept my personal life away from my job for a reason. I worked with these people.

“As long as it’s consensual, and he can’t turn around and accuse you of⁠—”

“Oh no. No, no, no.” I shook my head, understanding Maurice’s concern. “We entered a contract of our own. I made him sign it because I didn’t trust him at first.”

Maurice’s eyebrows furrowed in worry. “He might argue that he was forced into signing it.”

“I’m not his boss,” I said quietly, before clearing my throat.

“But you’re Wade’s supervisor.” He stared at me and his mouth twisted to the side. “You have a position of authority over him.”

“And Wick has one over you,” I stated harshly, feeling protective of whatever the fuck this thing was. Wade wasn’t my boyfriend, but he was my shoelicker. Mine.

Maurice blew out a long breath and nodded. “But I wouldn’t turn around and accuse Wick of anything. I’ve been loyal to him. Wade’s. . . . Well, he’s a wild card, isn’t he? He helped Xadrian.”

“Xadrian is a manipulative bastard who took advantage of Wade.” I squared my shoulders, then relaxed them because Maurice wasn’t my enemy. He was actually a nice guy, and I didn’t know why it felt as if I was going to war with him. Maybe because I didn’t want to let Wade go. “Listen, Maurice, Xadrian made Wade feel like he could become important to him. Wade’s. . . sensitive. He needs someone to lead him, take care of him, and Xadrian made him believe he was the guy to do it. That doesn’t excuse Wade’s behavior, but I trust him. If I thought he’d risk this company’s reputation, I’d throw him out into the street. Trust me.”

Wade was mine to control.

Mine to dominate.

Mine to care for.

Mine to do with as I pleased.

My responsibility. He was my shoelicker. My pretty boy.

“Since when do you care so much about him?” Maurice asked, head tilting to the side in question. A small smile quirked his mouth. “You have a reputation for being a cold hard-ass, but you’re defending him.”

I breathed heavily through my nose and shrugged. “I don’t love him or anything, but I like playing with him. He’s a good worker, too.”

“I like how the worker thing was an afterthought.” He laughed quietly.

If I had the ability to blush, I would’ve, but I wasn’t the type to get embarrassed easily, especially not about someone I wanted.

“I haven’t seen him,” Maurice finally said with a sigh. “He seemed upset when he left, though.”

“Right.” I gritted my jaw and offered him a small smile. “Thanks.”

Damn it, what now? I left the office and spent far too long looking around the workplace for Wade, but no one had seen him. I suspected that he’d left. After hearing Maurice say Wick had seen him out near the parking lot, it made sense, and that pissed me off. I’d given him an order, one he’d purposely ignored.

I went back to my desk and grabbed the folder of information about him. Shuffling through it, I kept my eyes peeled until I found what I wanted—his brother’s address. Either Wade was at his apartment or his brother’s, but either way, I would find him.

I left a message with my team that I was leaving for the day. Without a backward glance, I went straight to my truck.

The first stop I made was at Wade’s, and with a few rough knocks on the thin, unstable door, I decided he wasn’t there. There wasn’t a peep on the other side, and I knew Wade well enough by now that I could tell he wasn’t the type of person to ignore someone knocking, especially when he probably knew it was me.

My next stop was his brother’s home, which was a few suburbs over but not far away. Like Wade, his brother lived in a poor neighborhood with houses that were falling apart and shady looking shops. The roads were uncared for—potholes dotted across the asphalt. I wasn’t afraid of the area because I didn’t grow up in a great place, either.

Dad and Mom had tried their best, but Mom was a waitress and Dad was a struggling cook and part-time car enthusiast. The one expensive thing they’d owned was Dad’s car, the same Mustang that I’d never gotten to see because it was stolen out of their front yard a month before I was born. I understood living in poverty. That was why I’d worked so hard, pushed to the breaking point, to give my Dad a better life. In the end, it hadn’t mattered because he’d died before he could enjoy it.

“Fuck.” I shook my head and hit the steering wheel with my palm. I despised thinking about the past. I didn’t know why I’d let myself be pulled into that heartache.

The small shotgun house Wade’s brother, Neil, lived in wasn’t anything special. Yellow in color, it had faded from the hot Louisiana sun. With cement steps and broken white bracketing around the door, it was like every other house found around this part of town. This style of architecture was beautiful when taken care of, but it was also popular in the poor suburbs because of the size.

Clearing my throat, I walked up the stairs and knocked on the screen door. A few moments later, the wooden door was yanked open and a haggard man glared out through the screen at me.

“Who are you?” he snapped, eyeing me carefully. “If you’re after the hospital payments, I told that bitch on the phone I ain’t got nothing to give her. I reckon you need to get out of here before I make ya.”

I stared at him, taking in the sight of the man before me. He was nothing like Wade. With messy short blond hair and a thin mouth, Neil Sawyer looked about a hundred years old. The bags under his eyes were dark bruises, and everything about him was greasy. Unkempt. He wore a simple gray tank top and similarly colored shorts with no shoes. The low dip of his neckline gave me a good view of a red scar slashed down the middle of his chest from the operation I’d read about.

“I’m here for Wade,” I finally said, raising my chin. “Is he here?”

Neil’s eyebrows pinched and he glanced over his shoulder, then back at me. “Does he owe ya money?”

I simply stared at him for a long moment before I spoke again. “Tell him Albion’s here and I want to speak to him.”

“That didn’t answer my question.” Neil gripped the screen door’s handle and swung it open, and I hopped out of the way to avoid it. He glared harder, stepping down to the stoop. “Who the fuck are ya, and what do ya want with my brother?”

“Neil?” Wade’s concerned voice filled the inside of the house. “Is there someone at the door?” He appeared behind Neil and froze when his gaze landed on me. “Sir?”

“Sir?” Neil frowned at him. “Ya know this guy?”

“He’s my supervisor.” Wade pushed Neil’s shoulder, shoving him out of the way.

I didn’t miss the way Wade rubbed his chest with his other hand, grimacing, and worry prickled at me. I clenched my jaw. “Why are you here?”

“I should be asking you that,” Wade said, fire in his tone. His eyebrows furrowed and he glanced around. “How did you know where to find me? You don’t know Neil’s address.”

I pursed my mouth in irritation but decided to ignore the question. “You’re supposed to be at work. I gave you strict instructions to help Christie.”

Neil snorted and leaned back against the wall near the door. He crossed his arms and rested the heel of one foot against the wall. “Fucking bosses, man. They’re all deadbeats.”

Wade shot him a glare. “Neil, please. I don’t need you to get involved. Go inside.”

“Fuck off. I’m not letting this—” He paused to give me a once-over. “—suit-wearing motherfucker talk to you like this.”

I smirked. “How very original of you. Gold star for the insult from the guy who looks and smells like he lives in a trash can.”

Wade’s eyes widened and he spun in time for Neil to try and launch himself at me. He grabbed Neil around the torso and shoved him back against the wall, and Neil grunted, but so did Wade.

“Stop, Neil. Fuck, just stop.” They panted as they struggled. I’d had enough, especially when Wade cried out and grabbed his chest.

“For fuck’s sake, grow up,” I snapped at Neil, using my Dom voice, the same one that got bratty boys to do what I wanted.

They both froze, and Neil’s blue eyes went wide.

“I want to talk to Wade, so you need to give us privacy.” I grabbed the screen door and yanked it open. “Get inside.”

Wade’s spine stiffened and he swallowed visibly, as though he wasn’t quite sure if I was ordering him or Neil, but I smirked when Neil shuffled his way through the door and up into the house, and I shut the screen door firmly behind him. When I was sure Neil was gone, I spun toward Wade.

“Care to explain why you left when I gave you an order?”

He let out a shaky breath, his entire body shuddering with the force. His hand stayed on his chest, massaging, and I couldn’t help but narrow my gaze on it. “I tried to fix the problem at the office, but I couldn’t. I don’t want you to get fired. I couldn’t. . . . I thought I was doing a good thing.”

I leaned back against one of the posts on the stoop, not caring that the layer of dirt on it would probably get on my suit. “You should’ve listened to me.”

Wade pressed his mouth together tightly until his lips turned white. After far too long, he exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry, Sir.” He stared straight into my eyes. “How did you find me? You never knew where my brother lived.”

I shrugged. “That doesn’t matter⁠—”

“It does, though.” He crossed his arms. His cheeks blazed red as he straightened and squared his shoulders. “Albion, how did you find my brother’s address?”

Wade wasn’t stupid—I’d known that when I’d gotten involved with him. I knew that even before we’d started having sex. Wick never hired people without a brain, so I wasn’t surprised when Wade didn’t let the topic go.

The next step was up to me. Change the subject, which I knew wouldn’t work, or admit the truth. “I got some information on you.”

His entire body tensed and hurt flashed in his eyes. “What?”

I kept my muscles as relaxed as possible, even though everything in me wanted to stiffen. In any other circumstance, I would order him to forget this line of questioning, but this wasn’t playtime. This was real. This was something happening between us that needed air. Fuck, I wasn’t good at this stuff.

“I needed to know things about your life so I could take care of you.”

A sob-like sound escaped his lips and he dug at the center of his chest with the heel of his hand.

“Wade. . . do you feel okay?”

He ignored the question, tears forming in his eyes. “Why didn’t you ask me like a normal person? That’s why we have mouths, to talk. We could’ve gotten to know each other, but you hired someone to get information on me instead?”

Guilt swirled low in my gut and I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “Shoelicker⁠—”

“Codswallop.”

The safe word slipped out of his mouth so easily that I froze.

Tears trickled down his flushed cheeks. “I don’t want to play right now. I want answers. Why didn’t you ask me?”

“Fuck.” I straightened and rocked on my feet. The urge to fall back into my dominant persona lingered on my tongue, but I pushed it aside. He’d said the safe word. This wasn’t a game right now, and while he hadn’t safe worded out of the whole relationship, if I wasn’t careful, he might. I didn’t want him to go. “I don’t do communication well. . . .” I pressed my tongue to the back of my teeth nervously as I considered my next words. “I. . . . Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” I rubbed a palm over my mouth. “I don’t open myself to people, and if I asked you questions, you’d want to ask some in return.”

“Don’t I deserve that?” Another sob left his mouth, and new guilt piled on top of the rest. I liked seeing him cry but not this way. Never this way. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

I wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the question. I knew why, but trying to explain made it all sound stupid. I opened my mouth but didn’t get to say anything else about the subject.

He gasped, clawing at his chest. A pained groan fell from his lips and he collapsed to his knees. “Oh God, it hurts.”

“Wade!” I rushed toward him and buckled beside him, grabbing his shoulders. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

He cried out, shivering. He scratched his chest over his shirt as though something was underneath, making it itchy. “I can’t breathe. I can’t. . . . It hurts.”

I shoved my hand in my pocket and tugged out my phone, fingers shaking as I unlocked the screen. I typed in 9-1-1. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’m getting an ambulance.”

Everything seemed like a dream after that—or more like a nightmare. I held a crying Wade in my arms as he whimpered from the pain, and I knew he had a high tolerance. At some point Neil came out, but the moment he saw the lights and heard the sirens, he went a sickly green and disappeared. As much as I wanted to beat him to a pulp for being a coward, I stayed with Wade.

“Who are you?” one of the paramedics asked me.

“I’m his partner.” I told him the truth.

They let me ride in the back of the ambulance.

“I don’t want to die,” Wade said, tears streaming down his face.

“Shh.” I held his hand in mine, kissing his knuckles. “You won’t. You’ll be fine. You’re my pretty boy, okay?” I didn’t know if I was trying to comfort him or myself. Maybe both of us. “My perfect shoelicker.”

Wade smiled despite the obvious agony he was experiencing. “Yes, Sir.”

I ignored the weird looks the paramedics gave me and concentrated on Wade on the way to the hospital. Sweat clung to his skin, and the monitor attached to his chest beeped too fast. Everything was fucking terrifying, and I decided I wouldn’t lose him. Fuck that. Not here. Not now.

Familiar, poisonous dread leaked into my veins, and I pushed it aside, along with every other icy feeling that assaulted me. This wasn’t Dad, and I wouldn’t lose Wade the way I’d lost him and Mom. Panicking wasn’t going to help in this situation. I needed to concentrate on Wade.

When we got to the hospital a team helped unload Wade from the ambulance, and he was rushed into the ER. A doctor met us, a middle-aged man with blond waves and round glasses.

“What do we have?” he asked, his Northern accent strong.

The paramedics threw stats at him that I didn’t understand, and the doctor nodded. Despite the fear that overcame me, I dropped my gaze to the shiny white badge with his name and photo on it—Dr. Brandon O’Quinn.

“Who are you?” Dr. O’Quinn asked, with slight urgency in his voice, as they rolled Wade in the glass doors of the ER and straight toward an open section. As soon as we were in, a nurse in blue scrubs grabbed the curtain and yanked it closed.

“Er, Albion Guthrie. Wade’s partner.”

The doctor nodded and attached a new monitor to Wade’s bare chest. “Wade, we need to find out what’s happening, okay? I’m going to run some tests.”

I swallowed around my panic as I watched Wade, who was in and out of consciousness. His head lolled and more sweat gleamed on his skin.

“Drugs?” Dr. O’Quinn asked, glancing at me.

I shook my head. “No, and I don’t appreciate the implication.”

“Is there any family history we should know about?” Dr. O’Quinn demanded, a quizzical expression furrowing his brow.

“Uh, yes! His brother has hypertrophic cardiomyopathy,” I said quickly, thinking back on the information I’d read. Luckily, I’d been so worried that I’d stared at the illness long enough to memorize the condition’s name.

A nurse grabbed my arm and tugged me, and I fought against him. “Sir, you need to wait outside.”

“Please, he’s my partner,” I begged, something I never thought I would ever see myself doing again. All this—the hospital, the ER, the desperation, the fear—brought back memories I didn’t want to revisit. I hated it with a passion, and I couldn’t leave Wade’s side, not like I’d left Dad’s. I’d never seen him alive again.

“I’m sorry, but you need to wait outside,” he said firmly.

I let him drag me out, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time I saw Wade.

17

WADE LEE

The doctor had been gone for about an hour. My right arm still stung from where the blood had been drawn from the crook of my elbow, and my left arm felt oddly heavy with the IV tube running from it to the bag near my bed. I tried to keep my fingers away from the EKG leads stuck on my chest. The machine was set to go off at regular intervals and track what my heart was up to, and I supposed it was a good sign that no one was running in here to pump more meds into me.

A nurse in pink scrubs came in, and it was a woman with a stern expression. I was paying enough attention to notice her name—Matilda Cline. It seemed to go with her attitude somehow.

“How are you feeling?” She stared at me with sympathetic eyes and her brown ponytail swayed as she moved around the room. “How’s the pain?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Whatever you gave me worked. My chest isn’t hurting anymore.” I went to rub a hand across my torso, but she snagged it, then finally gave me a tiny smile.

“Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

The machine chose that moment to do its thing, and Nurse Cline pulled out a device that was a little larger than a phone and frowned at it.

“How am I doing?” I asked.

She glanced up at me. “Not bad. The doctor wants you to get imaging done, so we can take a look at your heart, though, and there’s a backup for that. Chances are you’ll be staying here overnight. Why weren’t you checked for hypertrophic cardiomyopathy in the past? It says here your brother has it?” Her dark eyebrows crept upward, like a teacher waiting for me to give a correct answer in class.

I shrugged. “I haven’t had any symptoms, so the doc I see once a year for my physical said I was probably fine.”

She scowled, as if she had a few things she wanted to say to Dr. Haley.

“Can Albion Guthrie come back here, then?” I gestured at the chair shoved against the wall in the tiny room. “I don’t think he will leave.” My phone was on a tray table nearby, but I hadn’t bothered trying to grab it yet. I was supposed to be lying still and not stressing while the machines were measuring whatever it was they were looking at for my heart.

She studied me, then her device, and hummed. “I’ll talk to Dr. O’Quinn. If he says yes, then fine. Everything okay with your partner, hon?”

“Uh, yeah.”

She frowned at my hands.

I sighed. “It’s completely consensual. We enjoy it.”

“You’re sure?” she asked, this time staring directly into my eyes.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, all right, then.” With that she gave me another tiny smile, as if the hospital charged for full ones, before hustling out of the room. At least she’d warmed up.

I closed my eyes and drifted for a while. Fear ate at me. They suspected I had the condition that had nearly killed my brother out of nowhere one day when he was at work and had required immediate emergency surgery to save his life. He had lifelong damage and would always need medication. He would probably only survive into his sixties, if that, and he knew it. He wasn’t living very well right now. I rubbed my hand along the side of my face.

Was I living a good life? If I only got sixty years, what could I say I’d done with myself?

I laughed, but it sounded melancholy in the small, empty room. I hadn’t needed to be rushed into surgery, and while the hospital staff was treating this seriously, everyone I’d spoken to had seemed cautiously optimistic.

For a while I must’ve napped because the scuffing sound of a chair sliding closer to my bed startled me awake. I sat up. A hand on my shoulder pushed me back down. My breath rushed out of me because Albion was pale and his face was a stone mask. I’d thought he looked serious at work, but that was nothing compared to this. He reached over and took my hand, tucking it between his.

“Are you okay, Sir?” I mumbled.

He snorted and stood so he could plant a kiss on my temple.

The warm press of his lips against my skin felt good, and I leaned into it.

“What’s going on?” Albion asked. I thought about having Nurse Cline explain to him, but when I glanced around, she wasn’t there.

“Uh.” I licked my lips because they felt dry.

Albion handed me a bottle of water from the tray table. No one had said I couldn’t have beverages, so I sipped it, then tucked it in the bed at my side.

“Well, they gave me a bunch of medicine.” I shrugged.

He grunted. “Like what?”

I shrugged again. “Not entirely sure what all it was. They’re checking my heart and stole some of my blood to test, too. They don’t think it’s a clot causing my heart issue because of my family history, so they said they’re giving me anti-anxiety meds and something to make my heart not work as hard. And they told me I’m going to have to go on an extra healthy diet when I’m done here, which I already knew because that’s how my brother should eat. But he doesn’t.” I felt exhausted from all the talking and snuggled back against my pillow.

He caressed his thumb softly along my throat. “Will they need to cut you open?” he asked. His lips were such a thin line they were almost white.

Oh, hell. There was a thought I didn’t want to have. A wave of fear rolled over me, but it disappeared faster than it usually would’ve. I blamed the medicine. “They don’t think they will right now, but they’re going to send me for imaging. I might never need it. Or I might need it eventually. It’s what killed my mother.”

“And what killed your father?” he asked, staring intently at me.

“Grief. And whiskey.”

He grunted and slowly sank down into the chair, still holding my hand. “Um.” He tipped his head back and blinked his eyes, and I was shocked when a tear rolled out of the corner of his right one. He rubbed the dampness away on his shoulder. “Did the stress at work. . . do whatever this is?” He waved at the EKG machine and grimaced.

Puffing out a breath, I squirmed on the inside. I didn’t want to make him feel bad, but I also didn’t want to lie. The idea of not telling him the truth was like nails on my mental chalkboard. “Not really. I mean, yeah, it didn’t help, but I probably have a wall in my heart that is thicker than it should be, the same as my brother. Dr. O’Quinn said that since I’m responding well to the meds, they’re likely right about that, because if it was something else, they would’ve needed to take me into surgery or give me different medicine.” I shivered. “It’s upsetting.”

“What is?” Albion asked sharply and glared around the room as if he would put an end to whatever was bothering me.

“Well, they won’t say anything exactly. Everything is really fuzzy until they get back these tests. They keep using phrases like our best guess or I think.”

He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand. “Relax. I’m here.”

“I had to ask a bunch of times before they would let you come back here,” I murmured.

He scowled and held my hand tighter.

I wanted to drift off, especially since he was here to help me deal with everything, but I was still scared. I helped Neil. If I needed surgery, too, then not only was I screwed, so was Neil. If I needed expensive meds that my insurance wouldn’t cover, and he did, too, then what? The thoughts swirled through my brain in a loop, and I started to feel worse.

“You’re not relaxing,” Albion said. He reached up and rubbed his hand over the top of my head, then dug his fingertips in against my scalp. I wanted to melt into a happy puddle of joy, it was so good. “I’m here. It’s all gonna be fine,” he snapped, and I didn’t think he’d meant to sound angry, but it was funny enough that I grinned at him.

“What are you going to do? Yell at my heart and tell it to get back to work?” I snickered at my own bad joke.

Albion sighed, then kissed my cheek. He leaned back enough to glare into my eyes. “Yes.”

We chuckled together, and I couldn’t remember, but I thought maybe this was the nicest I’d ever seen him act.

* * *

Albion refused to leave my side, and after one very tense conversation with Dr. O’Quinn, no one came around to kick him out. He’d been almost unbearably smug after winning a battle of wills with the hospital staff, but I’d just been happy to have him near.

The next day the hospital kicked me out after about seven hundred more tests, and on the way back to Albion’s place we had to stop at a pharmacy to pick up a big bag of pills. I had no idea if they cost anything or not because Albion had gone inside for me. I was feeling overwhelmed with the bag of meds sitting in my lap on the ride back to his place.

“How will I remember it all?” I asked, poking at the bag.

He grunted. “We’ll set timers on your phone and write it all on the calendar on the side of my fridge.” He shrugged as if this was the most natural thing in the world. I knew he kept track of the team, so maybe staying organized wasn’t a big deal for him. I poked at the bag again. Then, it occurred to me that I hadn’t let Neil know I was okay, and I swore, dragging my phone out of my pocket.

I went through my missed calls, which was easy because there weren’t any, and I didn’t have any missed texts, either.

“Did you talk to Neil?”

Albion glanced at me. His lips parted, and then he cleared his throat. “No, I’m sorry. I should’ve.”

“It’s okay,” I said, scowling at my phone. “He knew I left in an ambulance.”

Albion didn’t say anything, just kept driving.

I texted Neil everything that had happened and all the stuff the doctors had said and even asked if he was doing okay.

I waited.

We were almost back to Albion’s apartment when my phone buzzed in my hand.

Neil: Guess I better find a job.

I read the text twice, then shut off my phone, powering the whole thing down.

Albion raised an eyebrow in my direction, but I ignored it.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Sighing, I turned my phone back on, then waited until it went through all the powering up crap, and finally I was able to show him the text. He read with quick glances while he was driving.

“Well, that is the biggest issue he’s facing,” Albion said, but he didn’t sound very nice.

My face heated. “I know you don’t care that I’m sick, but he should. He’s my family.”

When I glanced at Albion, I flinched because he looked ready to start shouting.

“Why do you think I don’t care?” he asked, voice gravelly and low.

“Do you? You’ve been here, I’ll give you that, but you haven’t talked about it.”

“What’s to say?” He shook his head. “I want you to be okay. You’re staying in my apartment, and I already cleared working from home for the next two weeks so you don’t have to be alone while you’re recovering.”

My world narrowed down to him, and I could barely think. “Really?”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

After that, I was too busy being shocked, and he seemed like maybe he’d embarrassed himself. We didn’t say a word, not even when he put his arm around me as he walked me inside and into the elevator. He kept hugging me until he sat me down on the couch. I fought back a grin.

Albion didn’t look me in the eye, but he proceeded to grab pillows and blankets and set me up on the couch like a little prince. My stomach squirmed with happiness and guilt at the same time.

I started trying to slide off the couch to the floor, and he tapped my knee and glared as he threw another blanket over my feet.

“I can do things,” I murmured. “In fact, you were even in the room when Dr. O’Quinn told me I could go back to having sex when I’m feeling up for it.”

He tucked the blankets more firmly around my feet. “You will let me do this,” he said seriously.

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered.

He nodded once, apparently satisfied with my answer.

For a few days, Albion essentially treated me as if I was the most precious thing on earth. He showered with me and washed me, made sure I took my meds at the exact times I should, cooked healthy food, and made my life easier than I’d ever had it—all in between running his team from his living room. He probably worked more hours than he did in the office, and maybe that was because he was worried about doing a bad job when Mr. Guidry had done him the favor of letting him work from home.

“Hey,” I said, around dinnertime on the third day while Albion was handing me a couple of pills. He shoved a glass of water into my hand and made me take the pills and drink before I could finish my thought. “What did you tell Mr. Guidry to get him to let you work from home?” I glanced at his open laptop on the coffee table. He’d been sitting on the floor next to me typing away.

He shrugged. “I said I was taking care of you.”

“And he was fine with that? I thought he was going to fire me.”

“What?” Albion whipped around to look at me, and I explained what had happened the day I’d gone to the hospital.

He groaned. “No, he wasn’t firing you. He was worried about you. He’s been trying to be more of a hard-ass since the whole Xadrian thing, but really, he’s just a sweet guy who wants everyone to be all right. It’s terrible for running a business,” Albion said darkly, but he didn’t sound like he disrespected Mr. Guidry’s good nature, so much as thought it wouldn’t lead to anything good.

A couple of days later, a little bit after lunchtime, I was bored out of my mind. Albion and I had been stuck in the same routine forever. We got up, showered, had breakfast, and he immediately started working, since he wasn’t going anywhere, then worked long into the evening in a way he wouldn’t if he were actually going to the office.

Albion wasn’t paying much attention to me from where he was working intently at the dining room table. I slipped off the couch and went over to him.

He ignored me.

I went to my knees, and his mouth twitched.

I rested my head on his thigh, and he sighed.

“What are you doing?” he asked, tapping the top of my head.

“I’m bored,” I said, blinking up at him.

He snorted and grabbed his phone off the table. “Come here,” he said softly, scooting his chair back. He was wearing jeans, and excitement sped through me as he unbuttoned and unzipped, pulling out his soft cock. I glanced up at him as my dick chubbed, and sexy excitement pulsed through me for the first time in way too long. I missed getting owned by him.

“This conference call is going to be boring as fuck and take forever. Come be my pretty boy and give me something to look forward to. Don’t send me over the edge until the call is finished.”

For a second, my mind whirled, then with a whimper, I scooted between his spread, muscled thighs, wrapped my hands around them, and sucked his firming cock between my lips. I loved feeling him go from soft to solid steel.

Albion put the call on speaker. “Tell me what you’ve been doing,” he snapped.

I shivered at the tone.

“Everything’s going great, Mr. Guthrie. Especially with what you and Wade have been doing.”

I froze because I hadn’t been doing anything except recover, but he hummed and didn’t sound surprised by that. “Yes. Please tell me what everyone else has been doing beyond what I can look at in the shared file.”

Well, this was boring. He was right.

I ignored the dull conversation, except to keep track of whether or not it was still going. I only paid attention to Albion’s cock, toying with the head and sliding my hand in to tug on his shaft when I started to bob on him. I carefully noted the stiffness of his muscles and the way he fought arching against my lips. When his cockhead pulsed on my tongue and I thought he might be close to filling my mouth with cum, I stopped and held still, glancing up through the glass table at his flushed face.

“Yes, that sounds good,” he said, and I gave him a small suck that had his eyes shutting and his dark lashes fluttering. “Hold on a minute.” He tapped his phone screen, then said, “Can anyone hear me?”

When no one answered, he glanced at the phone screen again before shifting his attention to me. “Get your dick out and tug it. Don’t you dare come.” With that he tapped the screen again. I held in a moan. “Continue,” he said.

The droning went on.

I got my dick out and began to jerk off furiously, but then he tapped the top of my head, and I squeezed the base because I was already at the edge. Holding in any noises, I focused instead on gently suckling on his cockhead. I was drifting and not paying attention when Albion slid the chair back, forcing me to follow after him to keep my lips wrapped around his cock.

I glanced up at him.

“Call’s over. Look at my good boy, following orders,” he said, running his fingers through my hair.

I puffed up with pride and my dick throbbed. I wanted to come so bad.

He forced me a little farther onto his dick, but he was clearly trying to be careful with me. I snorted at that and sucked him deeper into my mouth until he got the hint and held me down. My head swam as he fucked into my throat, and I gasped when he pulled out and unloaded on my face, leaving me dripping with his cum. He smeared his hand across my cheek.

“Get on my lap,” he said.

With a nod, dripping cum onto my pajama shirt, I did as he said, and he turned me around to sit with my back against his chest. He used his cum-covered hand to stroke my cock, and I shouted as I leaned my head back against his shoulder and blew my load. My heart went nuts, and I was scared for a moment, but then everything slowed down exactly the way it should. I had a floaty, happy feeling that Albion made happen so easily.

It took me a few seconds of being held tightly in his arms to realize what was going on. I wasn’t worried about anything. I felt good. Smiling, with cum cooling on my face, I slid my hands along his arms, and he tightened his hold on me.

There was a noise from near the door, and for a second, I was confused, but then a voice came through the video doorbell. “Mr. Guthrie, a man named Wick is here to see you?”

“Send him up,” Albion said loudly, then stood me on my feet. I swayed for a second, and he caught me around the hips. “Are you okay?” he asked.

There was no helping it. I snickered. “Yeah.” I poked at my face. “Did you tell someone to come up here?”

He sighed. “Go shower. Do you feel comfortable showering alone?”

“Yes.” I rushed off. I was clean and dressed in jeans for the first time since the hospital when I heard raised voices. Confused, I hurried out into the living room.

Mr. Guidry was pacing around with his hands behind his back and his spine straight, and Albion was sprawled on the couch. I had no idea how he managed to flop and look like a model, but he did it every damned time.

“There you are,” Mr. Guidry said, and I was surprised when he smiled at me. “How are you feeling?”

“Uh, good,” I said, rubbing my hands over my arms. I drifted in Albion’s direction, and he didn’t hesitate to snag me and pull me down onto his lap. My body heated because this was clearly a move to prove we were comfortable together, but being the center of attention made me squirm inside.

“Well, I’m glad,” Mr. Guidry said, then stopped pacing. “I was just telling Albion that I expect your relationship to stay out of the office. Maurice and I had a discussion, a long discussion. He helps me run the business.” Mr. Guidry scowled at me, and I leaned harder back against Albion. He pressed a kiss to the side of my neck. “Maurice is of the opinion that perhaps you deserve a real second chance, and maybe we were a little too excited to think up some less than admirable things to put into your work contract after Xadrian departed the company in such a spectacular way.”

“So, Maurice told you to be nice?” I asked, wanting to be clear.

Mr. Guidry grinned. “Yes. We’re going to have a fresh start when you come back to the company, and you’re going to help Maurice in my office. If I hadn’t known about you and Albion, it wouldn’t have mattered, but I do, and I simply want to make sure everyone is safe.” He stared at Albion.

“It’s consensual.” He bit the words out as if they’d personally offended him.

Mr. Guidry glanced my way.

“It is,” I said softly, because really, I loved everything I did with Albion, especially the most twisted stuff.

“Even so, I would want you reporting to Maurice,” Mr. Guidry said to me.

Feeling slightly evil, I raised my hand.

“Yes,” Mr. Guidry said, but there was amusement in his tone.

“Maurice reports to you, doesn’t he?”

Mr. Guidry snorted and I was surprised when he smirked. “If you think that’s really the way things work between Maurice and me, wait. He wouldn’t hesitate to tell me to stick it where the sun don’t shine. I’m not so certain that’s the situation between yourself and Albion.”

I squirmed uncomfortably.

“It’s not, if I’m being honest,” Albion said softly.

“That’s settled, then,” Mr. Guidry said, and there was a firm tone in his voice. “I’ll be off. Please, take the full two weeks out of the office, and we’ll see you back soon, hopefully in good health.” He winked at me on the way out, which had me chuckling.

“Something tells me Maurice runs the show there,” Albion said, snorting.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes and gave me a kiss on the cheek before turning and settling me back in the pile of blankets. “Why don’t you relax?”

Groaning, I flopped backward into my fluffy nest. “I’m tired of relaxing.”

“Relax for a couple more days, then on Saturday I’ll take you to Club K with me.”

I sat up and stared at him. “Isn’t that the kink club?”

He shrugged. “Guess you’ll find out. If you do as you’re told.” He glared.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, and this time I didn’t give him any trouble when he came over and tucked the blanket around me and pressed a bottle of water into my hand.

18

ALBION

On Saturday night, we found ourselves in the shower.

Wade’s back was to me, and I took the time to run the washcloth over his shoulders, then down the knobs of his spine, cleaning him meticulously and with the care I’d never fully given him before he’d gotten sick. I had no other intention than to bathe him, but every time he sent me a pout over his shoulder, I grew more and more tempted.

“No,” I said firmly, voice leaving no room for argument. “We have plans tonight, and as much as I want to fuck you in the shower, Pretty, we don’t have time.”

His pout deepened. Damn him. He’d grown more confident in his ability to seduce me, and I was weak to it—to him.

I slapped him on the ass, and he hissed, hips jerking forward. “I said no. Look ahead and be a good boy.”

“Yes, Sir.” He finally did as he was told, and I continued to wash him.

I stroked the lathered cloth over his asscheeks, watching every infinitesimal reaction that my touch dragged out of him, from the small shudder, to the flutter of his eyelashes, to the crinkle of his nose, to the way his fingers twitched. The signs were there, teasing me to do more, but I refused to fall into the trap of his body. I was stronger than that.

When I was satisfied he was clean enough, I reached around him to switch off the shower, then opened the glass door, leading him out of it. I grabbed a douching kit from under my sink and flashed it at him.

“I’m going to help you.”

His eyes widened and a blush spread across his cheeks. “Wh—Why? I can do it!”

I grinned at him. “I know you can, Shoelicker, but you’re mine, and I want to make sure you’re very clean for me tonight, okay? I want to show everyone what a pretty boy you are for me. They’ll see how submissive you are and wish they were me.” I gestured at the sink. “Bend over there.”

He swallowed, and with shaky knees, he did what I’d instructed, leaning over the sink with his chest flat against the marble stone vanity. He spread his legs, and I took a moment to appreciate the lean lines of his back and the roundness of his asscheeks. His balls hung tight between his legs, pressed firmly against the ledge of the vanity, and in front of them was his cock, already half hard from our cleaning session in the shower but now on the way to being rock solid.

Between those delicious cheeks, his pink hole peeked out, teasing me to do more than douche him, but I shoved aside the thought even as lust coiled inside me, hot and needy. I opened my kit and slammed it on the vanity beside him, tugging out the enema bulb. I filled the rubber with cool water and screwed on the tip, aware of how he vigilantly watched me over his shoulder, gaze filled with hunger.

I lubed the tip of the enema bulb before pressing it gently inside him. “Bear down, Shoelicker. Be good for your Sir, or I’ll turn your ass red later.”

He sucked in a breath, then let it out. His eyes were still trained on me, pupils blown wide. He did as I’d instructed, and the tip of the bulb pushed into him easily. I applied pressure to the rubber pouch, and the sound of squirting water reached my ears. Wade gasped, and his hole squeezed around the tip as I tugged it out again.

“Good boy. Keep it in there.” I stroked my fingers over the base of his spine, and he whimpered, rocking back against my touch. I brushed my fingers lower, between his cheeks, and his moans crept up in volume, dragging a smug grin out of me. “Now go to the toilet and release it.”

He straightened on shaky legs and went straight to the toilet near the bathroom window. He sat down, and I watched him the entire time, our gazes glued on each other. There wasn’t anything particularly sexy about douching, but the scene playing out was about more than that. I had power over him. Everything he was and did was mine to control and that included making his asshole sparkly clean.

Pleasure simmered hot in my stomach as I watched him exhale, our gazes caught in an imaginary battle until he lowered his head submissively.

“Check,” I ordered in a low but strong tone.

He peered between his legs into the toilet bowl. “Not clear, Sir.”

“Then come over here and we’ll do it again.”

“Yes, Sir.”

We did the same routine two more times before he checked the bowl and glanced at me with a small, nervous smile.

“My good little shoelicker,” I murmured appreciatively, bending my finger to gesture for him to follow me.

“Yes, Sir.” His breathy sigh made me grin as we walked back through the door and into the bedroom.

“Sit on the bed.” I watched him do as I’d ordered from the corner of my eye as I strode over to my closet. I slid open the doors and walked inside, taking my time to find every piece of clothing I wanted. I’d purposely picked out attire for me and Wade that would show off all our best qualities, and I couldn’t wait to see him in the tight leather pants and black mesh see-through shirt.

I threw the clothing on the bed and pointed at it. “This is what we’ll be wearing to Club K, am I clear?”

He blinked his big hazel eyes at me and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

I stared at him for a long moment, then sighed, falling to sit on the bed beside him. His pliancy was addicting, and I was already hooked on it—on him—and since the. . . event with his heart, part of me had softened. I couldn’t quite explain the emotions. I’d nearly lost him, and while we were far from any I love yous, I’d grown used to him in my home. The fear of losing him was, quite bluntly, absolutely terrifying.

I’d begun to wonder if I’d always had a thing for him. What I’d thought of as casual interest could’ve been more.

Wade tilted his head, mouth parted slightly, waiting for whatever I was about to do.

I swallowed my pride. “What I did and how I went about it was stupid.”

I cleared my throat and shifted awkwardly. I didn’t do deep discussions, and I certainly didn’t tell someone about my past and the feelings that came with it. Apologizing was also not in my repertoire of positive attributes. I hated it with a passion because I hated being wrong.

“I shouldn’t have hired someone to get information on you and your family.” I gritted my teeth, ignoring the desire to stop this conversation and go back to being the distant Dom. “And I’m sorry.”

Finally, after what felt like too long, he smiled. “You could’ve asked me. I would’ve told you anything you wanted to know.”

“I’m aware,” I drawled, shaking my head. “But that isn’t how I usually work. I’m not a fan of getting close to someone.”

“Lies. You’re the warmest person I’ve ever met,” he bit back immediately, his grin growing to show he was being sarcastic. This was new, like the Wade I remembered before Xadrian got his hands on him.

I snorted out a laugh. “I have been accused of being a cold son of a bitch many times.”

Wade’s grin turned feral and he cackled.

I glared at him. “Hey, have some respect. I’m still your Dom.”

He held up his palms toward me and flashed me his teeth. “Sorry, Sir.”

I shook my head and rolled my shoulders. I thought about what I could tell him to make this all better—but nothing could. Not really. I’d broken his trust by doing what I’d done, even if he didn’t seem worried about it anymore. “It’s not an excuse, but I don’t like growing attached to people. When I was younger, it was a lot easier for me.”

He pressed his mouth together and clasped his hands, clearly listening intently.

“I used to get too involved with people too fast. I think it came from only having my father, who never got over my mother dying. I craved attention.” Now all I could think about is how ashamed he would be at me for treating the men I’d dated so badly. He wouldn’t have cared about the Dom part, but he would never have wanted me to be so cold to a partner. “I lost my mom to an aneurysm when I was a kid. It was fast and brutal, and we never expected it.”

Wade winced, but he kept his gaze firmly on me. He reached out to grab my hand, and I allowed it, squeezing my fingers against his.

“My dad was heartbroken. She was his soulmate. He spent my entire life living like a ghost without her. He tried to be here for me, and he was, but when he wasn’t, he always stared off into space, and I knew he was thinking about her. About how much he missed her. Then it was his turn. It happened about four years ago. Cancer. He went quicker than any of the doctors expected. One minute they found spots on his liver, the next he deteriorated, and they put him in palliative care. I lost him a week later.”

Tears bit my eyes, worse than stinging bees, but I tried hard to keep them at bay. Fuck, I hadn’t cried since my dad gave me one final smile before falling into the blissful, drugged sleep of death. I clenched my jaw harder. “I lost myself after his death. I fell into a depression so deep that I didn’t think there was any way of getting out of it. They were my parents. You expect them to go before you, but it doesn’t make it any easier. They were both still young. Mom’s death hurt, but Dad’s. . . . Fuck. He worked hard to raise me and take care of me after Mom died, and when I finally made enough money to give back, he didn’t live long enough to enjoy it.”

Wade let out a breath and leaned his head on my shoulder, and while it was a small act, it was a lot more comforting than I’d expected it to be. A wave of warmth rushed through me.

“All the money in the world can’t buy health,” he said.

“It can help a lot. Especially when you live in this country.” I shook my head. “Anyway, my buddy, Massimo, brought me out of my depression. I wouldn’t admit it to him, but that asshole saved my life.” I chuckled. “He likes to tell me that whenever he can, though, because he knows he did. He’s a confident son of a bitch, but I guess if I could read people as well as he does, I would be, too.”

“Sounds like a fun guy,” Wade said.

I snorted. “You’ll meet him tonight. He’s a Dom.” I sent him a narrow stare. “Don’t get any ideas, Shoelicker. You’re mine.”

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. “Yes, Sir. Yours.”

“Good.” I cupped his face and kissed the corner of his mouth. He mewled exactly how I loved to hear, and then I leaned back and placed my hands on my thighs, fingers bent and nails digging in. “To put it bluntly, I’m an asshole because I don’t want to feel that way again.” I ran my gaze down his body, bare for my feasting eyes, and hunger burned hot inside me. “But I like you, Shoelicker, and I want you to stay mine. If you want to renegotiate the contract, we can do that, too, but I would appreciate it very much if you stayed here.”

“I don’t want to change anything,” he whispered, eyes too wide. “I like it how it is.”

I nodded. “I can’t pretend that I don’t know about your life now, Wade. You’re drowning in debt, for your brother and yourself.”

A flush spread over his cheeks and he ducked his head. “I can handle it.”

“You’re not, Pretty Boy.” I hooked my finger under his chin and raised it. We stared into each other’s eyes. “No more. Your brother needs to stick with a career. We’ll help him find one, but I’m putting my foot down. I’m your Dom, and it’s my job to take care of you. So, this is what we’re going to do. I’m paying for those hospital bills—” He opened his mouth, but I shushed him and glared. “Listen, Shoelicker. I’m paying off your debt and his. I might help him figure out if insurance would cover anything outstanding. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who would fight them. You’ll both have a clean slate. But him? He’s on his own now. No more help from you. He’s an adult, and he needs to stand on his own two feet. Understood?”

“But Sir. . . .” He flinched. “Neil is all I have.”

“I’m not telling you to stop talking to him. I’m instructing you to let him be an adult. Stop babying him. I take care of you because you’re my sub, and I look after my sub. But he isn’t your sub, is he?”

He shook his head hesitantly.

“From now on, his financial issues are his. Like I said, we’ll help him find a good job, but he will keep it and work hard, and if he doesn’t, then he can deal with the consequences.”

Wade shut his eyes and leaned in closer to me, and I cupped his cheek, slanting my mouth over his in a gentle, mind-melting kiss that had him moaning.

“At least let me help with the bills around here, Sir?” He gave me big puppy dog eyes and this was new. Different. And it worked.

My heart couldn’t handle the look and I sighed. “Fine. You can help.”

He grinned in triumph, and I grabbed his face between my fingers, making him stiffen.

“Don’t think this changes anything, Shoelicker,” I whispered, scratching a nail experimentally over his cheek. He hissed. “You’re still my dirty little slut, a fucking bitch who equally disappoints and impresses me.”

He trembled, a small gasp escaping his mouth as he reached up to wrap his slim fingers around my wrist. “Sorry, Sir. Anything for you, Sir.”

I hummed in pleasure. “Will you be a good boy for me tonight?”

He nodded eagerly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” I grinned smugly and released my hold on him.

A huff of disappointment left his mouth.

I winked and stood, pointing at the leather pants and the mesh shirt. “Get dressed, Shoelicker. I’m taking you to Club K and showing you off.”

His eyes gleamed with excitement. “Yes, Sir.”

19

WADE LEE

It was dark out, and the evening air had my nipples standing on end in the practically nonexistent mesh shirt that pulled across my chest. I tried not to glance down because my flat stomach looked fucking amazing right now, but it was already jumping with nerves—both good and bad. I ran my hands along the thighs of my black leather pants, stopping to worry at the seam with my fingertips.

Albion strode ahead, tall and imposing in black jeans that disappeared into leather boots that hit him midcalf. The boots made me want to crawl after him and follow him anywhere. They would’ve been at home on a biker. His black button-down shirt was tucked in and showed off his trim waist and wide shoulders.

In short, he was a dirty dream come true. How could this man want me?

Part of me wished we were holding hands, but the rest of me was glad we weren’t because it would’ve been weird. It wasn’t something we’d done in public. My palms tingled. Would he ever want to do something like that with me? I wasn’t sure how I would act if he started being too nice, even though he’d been warming up to me behind closed doors. I blew out a long breath as we made it to the front entrance of Club K.

There was a discreet, backlit glass sign above the door, almost as if whoever owned the place didn’t want anyone to know what was inside, despite the packed parking lot. The building itself was shockingly impressive, even though it was tucked away near the river. The clean gray brick soared up three stories. At intervals where the windows should’ve been there were gray marble blocks cut to fill the arched space, all at once both classy and indicative that something secret and sexy might be happening inside.

“You’ve never been here, right?” Albion smirked at me, and I shook my head.

He grinned and turned to grab my wrist as a man wearing black leather and a bloodred silk shirt checked his ID and grunted at him. I had to fumble my ID out for the bad vampire look-alike, but he only glanced down once, I assumed to check my age, then handed me back my card. I tucked everything away as Albion grabbed my elbow and led me inside.

I gasped and my gaze was swept upward by the stark architecture. The ceiling was three stories above us, and thick concrete pillars lined the outside walls, reminding me of old-world cathedrals.

He chuckled. “Club K started life as part of a shipyard. It was converted at great cost back in the 80s, when people were building new nightclubs left, right, and sideways. Avery bought it about ten years ago at a steal.”

I had no idea who Avery was, but Albion seemed impressed with him. My stomach twisted with jealousy.

The floor we walked across was thick glass squares lit by fluorescent green lights. Underneath sloshed the river that ran through St. Loren. Fish swam up here and there, probably regular wildlife, but they were interesting and ominous in the green glow. I was distracted, but Albion smiled and that happiness was enough to snag my attention. He looked so good with that soft expression on his face.

Like a different person.

He stared at a shiny silver bar that extended about forty feet in all directions along the far wall. Ugh, every stool was full, and people were packed in around those seated, attempting to get drinks. Everyone was shouting their conversations. One good thing, they were all dressed similarly to us. Some of my anxiety died away.

“Come on, Shoelicker,” he said, tone warm enough that it gave me a pleasant shiver. I followed at his heels, still staring at the glass floor, until he stopped, and then I glanced up at the man he shook hands with.

“This is Massimo,” Albion said. He glanced at his friend with a smirk.

Massimo had vivid eyes that were stuck somewhere between blue and gray, set off by dark hair and scruff. He was pure fire, but he seemed even colder than Albion, and I found myself crowding against my. . . . My Sir.

“Very nice,” Massimo said, his gaze starting at the boots on my feet that Albion had bought me and sliding up my body. I shivered and shuffled another small step closer to Albion.

With a huff, Albion wrapped an arm around me and bent, touching his lips against my ear. “You’ve never played with anyone else?”

I didn’t know what answer he wanted because I was pretty sure he’d already known that. “No, Sir,” I said, when he appeared to be waiting for an answer from me.

He nipped my earlobe and sparks shivered along my spine and swirled in my gut. I’d already been on edge, and when he sucked away the sting from his teeth, my cock decided to get in on the action and show up to the party. I was embarrassed as Massimo’s gaze drifted down toward my groin, but when I slipped my hands in front of myself, clasping them over my crotch, Albion slapped them away.

“No, you’ll let everyone see what I do to you, see how much of a slut you are for me,” he growled in my ear.

I whimpered and my problem got worse—so much worse.

“Oh, he was a good find,” Massimo said with a tilt of his head. He was talking about me like I was barely better than a new watch—if that.

“Have you ever been here? You didn’t answer me out loud the first time I asked,” Albion murmured, lips teasing the shell of my ear. I wasn’t sure why that cold tone directed so intimately at me got me wound up every fucking time, but my bones turned to mush—all except one. I would’ve fallen on my ass if he hadn’t slipped his arm around my waist.

“No, Sir,” I said.

“Always verbally answer my questions, Pretty, or you’ll get punished.” He grabbed my ass and squeezed, but this time it was a gentle reminder.

“Yes, Sir,” I moaned out, fighting past the humiliation of someone else watching us do this. His friend didn’t glance away for a single second.

“I love that you’re my pretty shoelicker to train, that no one else has done this,” he said, rubbing his hand along my side, which with the mesh shirt was somehow better than him caressing my naked skin. He’d done something similar when he’d shoved the douche inside me earlier, and another wave of heat at the reminder of that sweet humiliation rushed through my body and settled in my cheeks.

“You’re my slut. Would you be a whore for anyone else? Would you take Massimo’s cock?” Albion asked, and this time the question was loud and drew the attention of several people sitting near his friend. They turned to glance at us with interest. “Do you want someone else to satisfy you?” There was venom dripping from the words, and I felt strangely disoriented.

My head spun. Was I having a meltdown? Albion’s arm was strong around me. I couldn’t tell what he wanted me to say, so I only shook my head, giving him the answer in my heart. “No, Sir.”

“Massimo, this is Wade,” Albion said, and he was smirking when he straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders. “My shoelicker. Shake hands, Shoelicker. Don’t be shy.”

My cheeks were burning all over again as Massimo stuck out his hand, and I put mine in his, but he did all the work of shaking.

“I understand some of the fuss now,” Massimo said in a bored tone, but I got the impression he didn’t think much of me, and that sent my emotions spiraling in an odd direction. I didn’t want anyone else to touch me, but I did want Albion’s friends to like me. He’d only introduced me to this one, after all, and it seemed as if I wasn’t making a good impression.

“Hello, uh, Sir,” I said, not sure I should really use Massimo’s name.

“Don’t call him that,” Albion snapped, giving me a squeeze.

Some fear sliced through me, but when I snuck a peek at Albion’s face, he wasn’t looking at me; he was giving his friend a death glare.

“I don’t know. Maybe he wants me to be his Sir for the night,” Massimo said, and there was a hint of teasing in the smug smile playing across his lips.

“You don’t like men.” Albion rolled his eyes at Massimo before he turned toward me and settled his hands on his hips. “Do you know who you belong to?”

He stared at me, chin tilted, and I realized we were doing. . . something. We were already sinking into a fantasy together. Licking my lips, I fell to my knees. I hated the expression on his face, as if he thought I had no idea who my Sir was.

Tears struggled to the surface that I held back. I bent forward and kissed the tips of his shiny black boots. “Yes, Sir. I know I’m yours, Sir.”

Massimo patted Albion’s shoulder, like he was telling him what a good job he was doing. A thrill of accomplishment had my head swimming.

“Get on your knees and don’t move,” Albion said, and I blinked up at him and felt horribly lost as he turned away and went to the bar, sliding in beside Massimo. I followed orders and tried not to make eye contact with anyone, but it was difficult not to glance around. I accidentally caught someone at the bar looking at me and dropped my gaze quickly to the floor. A clean pink microfiber cloth hit me on the face, and I dragged it down and held it, then shot my attention up to Albion.

“Thank Avery for that bar rag,” Albion said, his voice carrying above the oddly hypnotic music that began thudding over the speakers. The uproar of talking people got louder along with the bassline.

Oh God, people are looking at us again. I stood on my shaking legs and walked over to the bar. A short, cute blond man with fake pointed elf ears stood there and he smiled at me in a friendly way.

“I figured you’d have more fun with that bar rag than I would.” Avery winked. He had an accent that I couldn’t quite place.

“Uh, thank you. Um. I don’t know what I should call you. But thank you.”

He laughed, a happy sound that had people turning to look at him. Massimo sat with his back to the bar and didn’t even glance at the man, even though other people shifted that direction and smiled, too.

“Avery,” he said. “Just Avery to you.”

“Is the back open? Is it too early?” Albion asked, glancing at a nearby wall. Antique BDSM equipment had been used as decorations, and each object was outlined by green display lights that matched the ones in the glass floor. I noticed an archway with a sturdy black door set into it. A large sign beside the door was easy to read from here—Members And Their Guests Only Beyond This Point.

“It’s a full house tonight. I don’t know if it’s a full moon or what, but it’s definitely a circus back there. Have fun!” He beamed at Albion.

Massimo got up off his stool and stretched, then walked with us toward that intriguing door. I wrung the rag between my hands while my heart thudded so hard I could taste it on my tongue. For half a second, I thought maybe I was having another heart issue, but my cock was so hard I decided that no, all this was a direct result of everything Albion was doing to me.

Albion opened the door, and I went ahead of him as he snagged my elbow and tugged me forward. Massimo followed me through and immediately darted ahead before spinning on his heel to watch me, as if I was the entertainment for the night. My gut heated and twisted, and again, I wasn’t sure if I hated this terrifying sensation or loved it. I rubbed my abs, and Albion came around and knocked my hand down.

“You’re mine. I didn’t say you could do that, Pretty.” He grabbed my wrist and tugged me past people who were doing some scary looking things. One woman was tied to a big X that was bolted to the floor, and there was a man on his knees between her taut thighs. At first, I thought he was eating her out, but he appeared to be biting all around her slit. I shuddered, remembering what it was like when Albion had done that to me.

There were other people in the room using equipment—couples and throuples—and back in one corner several men were taking turns fucking a man secured in what looked to be a padded stockade. I bit my tongue and shifted closer to Albion, and when he noticed where I was looking, he looped his arm around me and tugged me in step with him.

“That’s not for my pretty shoelicker,” he growled into my ear, and I relaxed against him.

The tip of my tongue ended up clamped between my teeth when Albion stopped at a glass table that reminded me a hell of a lot of the dining room table at home, only with sturdier legs. Lights glowed on the underside of the glass similar to the floor out near the bar. The green hue was eerie and made everything feel like a sex dream—anything was possible.

“Brace yourself,” Albion said.

“What?” I gasped when he scooped me up in his arms and settled me onto the table. He easily put a knee on the table and hoisted himself up. I couldn’t look away from his tight body as he crawled the short distance to the other side and sat down, crossing his legs so that his boots were prominently displayed in my direction.

“You’re only good for two things, you little slut,” he said, loudly enough that a few people nearby turned toward us and away from the show of the man in the stockades getting railed. “Cleaning things and giving me that tight ass. And you haven’t earned my cock yet.”

He wriggled his boots in my direction.

“Oh yes, Sir!”

The people watching laughed, and I froze, but they didn’t seem as if they were making fun of me, and when I glanced at them, they all seemed to appreciate what they were seeing. Who wouldn’t like looking at Albion? Heat washed through me when I realized they must enjoy watching me, too. I got up on my knees and bent over Albion’s boots, using the rag to buff the already shiny black leather.

Albion let out a dramatic sigh and shook his head at me.

Massimo came over to casually lean a sharp hip against the side of the table, gaze glued to me. So many people were focused on me that my head went tingly and light with the idea of it.

“You’ll never get my shoes clean that way, Shoelicker,” he said with a smirk.

I spit on the rag and used it to buff the boots with more force, and when I glanced up, I could clearly spot the bulge in Albion’s jeans. Oh, he was loving this—loving what I was doing. My cock twitched hard and stole my breath.

“Work harder. Lean a little closer,” he said, a grin playing along the corner of his lips.

“Yes, Sir.” It took me a full minute to realize that the change in position had my ass waving in the air, and a few more people had gathered around to watch. I sucked in a deep breath and ignored them.

“You’re taking too long, you lazy slut,” Albion snapped, and I dropped the rag as true fear raced through me. I glanced up at him, and he twirled his finger around. I wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he slid closer and grabbed my waist, turning me to a new position. “You’re so fucking useless, Shoelicker,” he snarled.

The words stung the way they usually did, and I both loved and hated the way it tore me apart inside. He was stronger and easily forced my limbs where he wanted them, then shoved me. I landed with my forearms in front of me and my ass in the air in his direction. He grabbed my hips and shifted me until my ass was higher.

“There you are. My bitch, waiting to get mounted.”

I shuddered. “Yes, Sir.”

He didn’t give me much time to adjust to the situation, simply leaned forward and sank his teeth in against my leather-covered ass. I moaned at the tease of pain. His teeth couldn’t quite get through the leather, but the pinching sensation tweaked a couple of old bruises. Sparks danced on the head of my cock as I swayed my hips, dying for something to rub against. He bit across my ass and down to the top of my thigh, then did the other side. When he took a break, I could barely think.

My body was on fire.

There was nothing and no one here that mattered more than him.

“On your feet,” he growled.

I couldn’t do it. I tried to get up and shivered, falling back down onto my elbows. “Sorry, Sir,” I said, and I hated that the words were watery from my tears.

Albion growled, and I shuddered hard as my cock throbbed. He dragged me to my feet, and I was momentarily disoriented because we were both standing on the table. It didn’t rock at all, as if maybe it had been built with these kinds of things in mind. He stripped my shirt up and off, keeping eye contact with me as he did it. He took the time to tweak both of my nipples until I was sure there must be a puddle of precum in my leather pants. Next on the agenda were my boots. He ducked down and tugged them off, along with my socks. I almost came when he unbuckled my belt.

“Here, Sir?” I asked.

“Oh, fuck yes. I want these people to see what I own and they can’t touch,” he said, a frenzied gleam in his eyes. The front of his jeans wasn’t doing anything to hide the way his cock was trying to punch a hole in them. He stripped me, tugging down my underwear at the same time.

For a few seconds, I shivered, exposed. Strangers drifted closer to watch, and I was excited and ready to be fucked. Albion was staring at me like he would eat me alive. Massimo had his attention focused on me, and even though it was cold—nearly dire—that added to the riot of lightning bolts firing off in my stomach. My cock jerked and smacked my abs, leaving a wet spot behind to cool.

Albion smirked. “My pretty shoelicker. I knew you would love this.”

I wasn’t sure I liked anything about the situation—except the way Albion was looking at me. That was perfect.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, loud enough for him to hear me.

He shoved me down and slapped my hands to the glass, and I was just flexible enough to accomplish it without my knees aching. He ran his hand along my spine, then used his thumbs to spread open my asscheeks. He went to his knees behind me, and as soon as his tongue touched my hole, I was gone in outer space.

I’d never felt such a dreamy river of heat flow through me.

Then, he sank his teeth into my right cheek, and I cried out. After a few seconds, he went back to my hole, biting, then sucking on my rim, so that I had no idea what was going on. My legs began to shake harder, and I almost fell.

At some point, I realized the people around us were shouting out where they wanted Albion to bite—and he was listening. My upper thigh. My left hip. The dimples at the top of my ass. He was sinking in his sharp teeth hard enough to bruise and clearly loving the show we were putting on. After a while he stood, dragging me upright, and shoved the rag into my hands. I swayed, and he grabbed my shoulders.

“You’re leaking like the slut you are,” he said with a satisfied grin I’d never seen.

Massimo was watching him with raised eyebrows.

“I bet this will be a lot better than spit,” he said, toying with my cockhead. It felt like I was being electrocuted, and I bit the tip of my tongue to stave off the need to come. “Use it to shine my boots.”

“What?” I stood there dumbfounded, staring at him.

He crossed his arms, eyebrows diving.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, then fell to my knees. I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to.

I stared at his boots. How would I do this?

I held my cock and sort of shook it over the tip of his left boot, but then he grabbed my shoulder and dragged me closer. I moaned and used my cockhead like a paint brush, slathering a wet streak across the cool black leather. It felt so good, and I was so close to emptying my balls. When my cockhead touched the leather for the second time, my balls felt as if they were going to spurt my load everywhere. I would be in trouble if I came without permission, so I forced myself to back off and used the rag to buff the boot.

“You’re doing it wrong, Shoelicker. I want that leather clean,” he barked.

I stared up at him, paralyzed, and then realized what he must want me to do. I leaned down and used my tongue, swiping it across the leather. I tasted my own bitter musk and a hint of whatever had been used to make the boots shine.

My orgasm roared through me, hitting harder than a freight train. I shuddered and kissed all over his boots while pleasure ripped me apart. I couldn’t stop the spray of cum that shot out onto the glass table or the tears that spilled down my cheeks or the way my body shook like a leaf in the wind.

Someone’s hand landed on my ass.

Albion reached down and something happened. There was a yell from behind me. Albion pointed. “If you touch him again, Byron, you’ll be down a finger.”

“Sorry. Jesus. Usually you share,” a man said.

“Not tonight. Fucking hell, all you get to do is look at my pretty slut.” Albion dropped to his knees and eased me onto my back with a hand behind my head and one on my chest. The glass was deliciously cool against my spine and bruised ass. I was drifting on a cloud while he drew a tube of lube out of his pocket and got me ready. His fingers in my hole were a dream, and I couldn’t get enough. I fucked myself on his fingers and squirmed when he took them away again, wanting more.

“Sir,” I sighed out.

“It’s okay. You’ll get what you need,” he said, loud enough for me to hear. “My slut needs my cock to be happy, doesn’t he?”

I tried to answer but could only nod, and he seemed satisfied by that.

He opened his jeans and drizzled more slick onto his cock until it gleamed, the best sex toy ever, and I bit my lip because I’d done such a good job he was going to put that in me, or at least, I hoped he would.

“Are you all right, Wade?” Albion asked as he brought my legs up over his shoulders.

“Uh. . . . Yes, Sir.” I couldn’t stop giggling like an idiot.

He leaned down and slammed his mouth over mine, then filled my ass with his cock. The stretch and slight burn satisfied me on every level. “You’re mine,” he growled in my ear, then fucked me harder than anyone had pounded me in my life, and it was the most perfect, delicious thing to ever happen to me. I clung and hoped that this would never end.

“I want to be your slut, Sir,” I said in his ear, then kissed it.

He moaned and fucked me faster, and before I knew it, he had his hand between us, stroking my cock until I thought I would die with how good everything felt. Time became a slippery, shimmery thing that didn’t make any sense as it drifted along, and then he toyed with my cockhead, slipping his thumb over my slit faster than a hummingbird’s wings. I came, and he grunted, pushing deep. I swore I felt the heat of his load as he filled my ass with cum.

There was a cheer, the kind you hear at a baseball game when there’s a home run.

I didn’t remember him dressing me, but it must’ve happened. I felt too good to help. The walk to his truck was more of a vague memory, and for me it was actually a ride because Albion carried me. Massimo opened the door for Albion so he could gently set me inside.

I wasn’t really aware of anything in the world that wasn’t the bliss in my brain until we were home. He showered me without any help on my part, then changed my clothes and put me in soft pajama pants and a silky shirt that was kind on the bruises littering my skin.

“Come back to me, baby,” Albion whispered.

It was like resurfacing from a tropical pool when I lifted my head from where it had been resting on his chest. He stroked his fingertips across my forehead and down my cheek, then smiled.

“How are you, Wade?” he asked, then tapped the tip of my nose.

“Good. Real good.”

He hummed and kissed my cheek. “Do you think you might want to do that again?”

All I could do was laugh and hug him, and he wrapped his strong arms around me and held me close.

“Is that a yes?” he asked after a while.

“Yes, Sir. Anything you want, Sir. Whenever you want, Sir.”

It was his turn to chuckle. I’d never heard him sound so warm and happy. And I loved it. And maybe. . . . Maybe I loved him, too, even though this wasn’t conventional or even nice all the time. I buried my face against his chest and prayed this would all work out. My mood shifted, and I shuddered.

“Are you okay, Pretty?” he murmured, running his fingertips through my damp hair.

“I just don’t want this to stop.” Humiliated heat burned through me as my voice wobbled. I blinked away tears and glanced up at him. The friendly expression on his face took me by surprise.

He kissed my lips gently. “It won’t.”

EPILOGUE

ALBION

I rolled my shoulders and stared at my computer screen for a little longer. Glaring, I squeezed the bridge of my nose and huffed out an irritated sound.

“Everything okay, Mr. Guthrie?”

I glanced up at Annie’s voice and offered her a somewhat tepid smile. “Fine, thank you, Annie. Can I help you?”

She blinked at me and tucked a strand of curly blond hair behind her ear. She clutched the files in her arm closer to her chest and gave me a wobbly smile. She’d relaxed more around me over the last few months, but Maurice had pointed out over drinks I’d been less cold since Wade came into my life. “You asked me to remind you about your lunch with Wade, sir.”

I checked the time on the bottom of my laptop screen and cursed myself for getting so caught up in work. I stood and slapped the laptop lid closed. Offering Annie a quick smile as she left, I stalked across my office and out the door.

“Take messages and call me if there’s a problem, Annie,” I said, as soon as we came to her desk. “But only get in contact if it’s urgent.”

She laughed and waved her hand at me. “I know, sir. Go. Wade will be very upset if you’re late.”

I rolled my eyes because we both knew that wasn’t true. Wade was patient, and his obedience had only grown with the months we’d been together. He was the perfect sub in every way, and I couldn’t have picked a better partner. He’d fit into my life easily, so much so that he and Massimo got along, too. That, in and of itself, meant everything to me because in the end Massimo was the only family I had left. We’d always been close in a strictly unemotional way, but Wade’s presence in my life had broken down barriers between me and Massimo that I hadn’t known existed. Massimo was still Massimo, and I was still me, but we’d started to spend more time around each other in ways that didn’t involve our Dom lives. Just last week, he’d joined me for dinner at home with Wade.

I headed down the hallway, striding in the direction of the boss’s office. Now that Wade and I were together, Wick had followed through with his promise of putting Wade on his team to help Maurice, away from my supervision, so that there weren’t any issues.

While most—okay, all—of our coworkers had been shocked when our relationship had come to light, to my absolute surprise, they’d taken it in stride. I believed the attitude came from their trust in Wick and his decisions, and he’d made it clear that we had his approval. Plus, most of the troublemakers had already left the company when Wick had gotten together with Maurice. A few still didn’t trust Wade, and I didn’t blame them, but they weren’t outright rude to him, either. It would take years for the trust in Wade to build up again.

When I arrived at Wick’s office, Wade was bent over Maurice’s desk and they were talking in low voices, then began to snicker like two schoolboys sharing a secret. I stopped to take in the nice curve of Wade’s ass, accented by the new charcoal suit I’d bought for him. The material pulled tightly across his delicious asscheeks, following the swell down to his thighs and legs, and the sight made my mouth water.

Maurice rolled his eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses and shoved Wade’s shoulder gently. “Oh God, no.” He laughed some more until his gaze landed on me over Wade’s shoulder. “Oh, hello, Albion. You’re late.”

Wade straightened immediately and spun on his heel, his wide grin falling into a loving smile when he found me with those gorgeous hazel eyes of his. “Hey, Sir.”

My chest squeezed and warmth flooded my insides as I walked toward him and leaned in for a kiss. Wade met me halfway, and I reveled in the touch of his mouth against mine in a short but meaningful smooch. “Hey, Pretty. I got caught up in a job.”

“I know, Sir.” He pressed his palm to my chest and smoothed down an imaginary wrinkle on my suit, the corners of his mouth crinkling as he stared at me. “But you’re here and that’s all that matters.”

I smirked down at him. “What are you sucking up for?”

“Nothing.” He tilted his head and his mouth curved wider. “Maybe I’m only telling the truth.”

“Mm-hmm.” I dropped another kiss on his lips. “We’ll see. Let’s go to lunch or our break will be over before we eat.”

Wade threw a wave over his shoulder at Maurice, who gestured at us to leave, and together we walked out of the building. I’d booked us a lunch reservation at a nice restaurant down the road, and due to my stupidity, we were fifteen minutes late by the time we arrived.

“If they can’t fit us in, I don’t mind, Sir. We could go somewhere less fancy,” Wade murmured to me when we’d reached the maître d’ with his hand snuggly pressed against mine and our fingers interlocked.

“We’re not going anywhere else, Pretty,” I said in my sharp Dom tone. I wasn’t going to leave here without getting my reservation because I had plans, and I wouldn’t have them ruined because I was a little late. This restaurant charged enough that they could wait for us.

Inside was accented by soft grays everywhere, from the walls to the chairs, and round lights hung from the ceiling, flooding the room with a subtle glow. The windows were floor-to-ceiling, giving the space a lot of natural light. Gentle piano music reached my ears, quiet enough to not take over the conversations, but loud enough to send a calming feeling through the place.

The maître d’—a young woman with short blond hair and a wide, tight smile on ruby lips—greeted us. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, under Guthrie. Albion Guthrie.”

She hummed for a second as she stared down at her tablet before she nodded and gestured to the side. “Please, follow me. You booked a secluded table, is that correct?”

“Correct,” I agreed, holding Wade’s hand with a firmer grip as we were led through the bustling restaurant.

Feliz’s Fine Dining was one of the more expensive places to eat at in St. Loren, which meant most of the customers were dressed in suits and nice clothes, and they were the type of people who could afford to pay a steep price for a good meal. I usually didn’t take Wade to places like this because he didn’t find it comfortable, but today was special, and I wanted it to be as nice as possible.

“Sir, why are we here?” Wade whispered as we reached an alcove in the restaurant. The table was in a corner with walls on two sides and a window facing us, and there was more personal space to allow for private conversations. A base price was added on top of the food for the peace and quiet, and while it cost a pretty penny, it was worth it, too.

“I wanted to treat you to something nice for being so good for me. You’re such an obedient sub,” I murmured back, noticing the shiver that ran through his body at the praise. I smirked in response.

The maître d’ cleared her throat, and I didn’t miss the blush that spread across her cheeks. She gestured at the table covered in a deep red cloth with a candle in the middle. The cutlery was already set out, and so was a pair of white plates and wineglasses.

“Your waiter will be with you immediately with fresh bread and brown butter to begin. He’ll also bring your choice of wine or champagne.”

“Red wine,” I said, and she inclined her head as she left again. I went over to one chair and pulled it out. “Come here, Pretty. Let your Dom take care of you.”

Wade’s tongue darted out to lick his lips and he fluttered his eyelashes at me, a soft smile curving his mouth. He shifted over to the chair and sat down, letting me push it closer to the table before I made my way around to the other side and took the seat there.

I reached across the table, and he immediately gave me his hand. I smoothed my thumb across his palm.

“Tell me something,” I murmured. “Did Xadrian ever take you anywhere nice?”

He snorted quietly and rolled his eyes. “You know the answer to that, Sir.”

“Maybe, but I want to hear it from you.” Heat swelled inside my chest as I took in his beautiful face.

He visibly swallowed and shook his head. “No. I was only a hole to him, Sir.”

“And what are you to me, Shoelicker?” I pressed the tip of my tongue to the back of my front teeth.

He shivered and took a deep breath, gaze darkening with lust. “I’m your dirty little slut, Sir.”

“You are.” I traced imaginary lines over his palm with my finger. “You’re my hole, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.” He rocked forward, then back again like he wanted to kiss me but thought better of it.

I didn’t care that we were in a nice restaurant. There was a reason I’d asked for the secluded area. “My sinful little whore who presents his hole to me whenever I want it.” I scraped my nails over his palm, and he trembled.

“I’m your obedient sub,” he whispered, his eyes turning wild as he stared pleadingly at me. “I’ll do anything you want, Sir. Anything.”

The moment was broken when a waiter came toward us with a basket of bread and a bottle of wine. I didn’t let go of Wade, and the waiter didn’t so much as glance toward our hands.

“Apologies for interrupting,” he said, then placed the basket on the table and presented the bottle of wine to us. “Would you care to sample the wine, sirs?”

Wade’s eyebrows furrowed and he stared at me, waiting.

“One glass won’t hurt,” I reassured Wade gently before I turned to the waiter. “Go ahead and pour for us. I’m familiar with the year.”

The waiter inclined his head, his brown hair flopping in front of his eyes as he popped open the cork. He poured the alcohol into each glass before he gave us a smile and left us alone again.

I hummed and grabbed the wineglass and guided it to my mouth, taking a delicate sip. “I prefer whiskey, but it isn’t bad. What do you think, sweetheart?”

Wade froze halfway through reaching for his wineglass and darted a surprised glance toward me. This was the first time I’d called him sweetheart, and while I hadn’t intended to do it, the word slipped from my tongue easily and wasn’t something I regretted.

“Er. . . .” His cheeks flushed red as he grabbed the wineglass and took a sip. “Yes, very nice, Sir.”

“Look at the menu,” I ordered in a gentle tone, and he reached for the black folder in front of us immediately. I watched, enraptured with the way his mouth moved silently as he read each food item. “See anything you want?”

“I think I would like the beef tenderloin, Sir.” He flashed me a wide grin. “I like meat.”

I snorted out a laugh and shook my head. “Careful, Pretty. Don’t tempt me to find out how much you like it.”

He shrugged, but a blush flooded his cheeks and his smile turned shy. Wade had opened up a lot more over the last few months, and the thing I’d learned about him was that he enjoyed pushing my buttons, just a little. He tested the waters, and I didn’t expect it to take long before he jumped in headfirst. I liked that he was obedient but also feeling out the boundaries very carefully.

The waiter came back, and I ordered the beef tenderloin for us. Wade let me make the choice for him because I always took control, even when it came to the simple things.

“Is there a reason we’re here, Sir?” He glanced around the restaurant, and when his gaze finally rested on me, his mouth curled teasingly. “Because it’s very romantic.”

I grunted, then smirked. “Think you deserve to be romanced, Shoelicker?”

He lowered his lashes purposefully. “I’ve been so good for you, Sir.”

I couldn’t deny it. Even when he was trying new things, he was always obedient. Sweet. The perfect sub. “So, maybe I want to treat you to something nice.”

He cocked his head thoughtfully. “I appreciate it, Albion.” My name had begun to leave his mouth a month or so ago when he wanted to be soft about something, and I let him use it because I enjoyed hearing the way his lips curled around the syllables. “But you know I’d be fine with a burger joint or something easy. I don’t need to be spoiled.”

“I know.” I grabbed his hand and raised it to my lips, placing a gentle kiss at the base of his palm, right above the knobs of his wrist. “I wanted us to come here for a reason.”

“Hm?” Wade’s lashes fluttered again, and I was lost in his eyes, just staring until I remembered myself. Fuck him for being so pretty and looking drugged up on lust all the time. He was too good-looking for my sanity.

Now that I thought about it, this was all very corny and definitely too romantic for me. It was too late to turn back now. Fuck it. “I love you, Shoelicker.”

Wade froze, eyes widening. His fingers curled in mine, and after a moment of silence, where I reconsidered what I’d just done, a happy grin flitted across his mouth. “You do?”

I snorted at the question. “Am I the type of person to say things I don’t mean?”

“No, Sir.” He bit his lip. “I love you, too, Sir. Very much.”

“Yeah?” I didn’t know why I’d questioned it, but here I was, acting like an absolute idiot because he’d said it back. Fuck. What happened to that cold bastard everyone accused me of being? Right, he was still here, but Wade had tempered my edges, made them less sharp.

“Yeah.” The breath that left him was slow and languid, and his eyes glittered. “I like being your shoelicker. I like being good for you.”

“I’m glad because I like you as mine, Pretty.” I leaned in closer and lowered my voice. “You’re perfect for me, and I’m going to keep you.”

He closed the distance between us and kissed me lightly on the lips, an act I’d have to punish him for tonight because he hadn’t asked for permission. “That’s fine by me, Sir.”

That was all I needed to hear. “Good, because I’m going to show you how much you belong to me after work tonight. Think you can handle it?”

He moaned. “Yes please, Sir.”

I grinned.

We spent the entire lunch hour and a bit more at the restaurant with a range of food that left us stuffed and satisfied. When it was time to go, I held Wade’s hand in mine as we headed back down the street. Wade leaned against my side with a pleasure-high expression on his face, even though we hadn’t done a single sexual thing during that time.

“Albion?”

I froze.

Wade immediately stopped, a confused frown taking over his face, and we turned together to look behind us.

Will, my ex, stood on the sidewalk, his blue eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. Dressed in a suit, he had clearly been at work. He hadn’t changed much since I’d last seen him, other than the fact that he’d cut his blond hair shorter.

“Hello,” I said simply, uninterested in a conversation.

“Who is this?” Will shot Wade a curious look, and instinctively, I curled my arm around Wade’s waist, dragging him closer against me.

“This is Wade Lee Sawyer, my boyfriend.”

Wade offered him a small smile. “Hi.”

“Your boyfriend?” Will pressed his mouth into a firm line and stepped in closer to us, crossing his arms. I’d forgotten that despite being handsome, Will had always been confrontational, too, and it seemed that hadn’t changed. His aggressive side was part of why we’d never worked. “Since when do you do relationships?”

“Since Wade.” I smirked at him and held Wade’s waist tighter. “Now, if you’ll excuse us⁠—”

“You’re a lying asshole,” Will snapped so violently that it made me pause. The hurt in his tone twisted knots of guilt in my stomach, and I blamed Wade completely. He’d worn me down until I felt human again, and I hated and loved it. “Wasn’t I good enough?”

Wade stiffened in my arms, and I pressed a kiss to his temple to reassure him. With a sigh, I turned back. “All I’m going to say to you, Will, is that the problem wasn’t you, it was me. I won’t apologize for hurting you because you lashed out, too. I told you from the beginning I didn’t want a relationship and you still agreed.”

His jaw clenched and he shook his head, taking a step back. He flashed his middle finger in my direction, and then he spun around and stalked away, leaving me alone with Wade again.

I sighed. “Well, you met the ex.”

Wade laid a gentle kiss on my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

I held in a snort. Only Wade would apologize for that horseshit. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The rest of the workday after the teasing at the restaurant was an eternity of anticipation. I took my time driving us home that afternoon. From the corner of my eye, I noted the impatience Wade exhibited by the way he shifted in his seat and kept glancing at the speedometer. He huffed when he realized I was going below the speed limit, and I held in the urge to laugh at his irritation.

“Is there a problem, Pretty?” I purred teasingly.

He rolled his lips into his mouth and shook his head, pulling at the hem of his suit jacket. “No, Sir.”

“Don’t tug on that, Shoelicker.” My tone grew deeper and I added dominance to my voice, eyebrows furrowed. “That cost me a lot of money and I won’t let you ruin it, understood?”

He shivered hard and nodded, pupils blown with lust. He bowed his head forward and pouted. “Sorry, Sir.”

“You will be when we get home.” I took a hand off the steering wheel and grabbed his thigh, squeezing hard and eliciting a moan from him. “Are you going to be my good boy or bad boy tonight, hm?”

He trembled and wet his lips before tugging the bottom between his teeth. He peeked at me, red stealing across his cheeks. “Good boy, Sir.”

Heat twisted through me and settled in my stomach. My cock twitched, and I squeezed his thigh again. “I’m glad.” I hit the gas pedal harder, adding speed as we headed home.

We got to our apartment building quicker than I’d originally intended, but apparently, I was as eager as Wade. He nearly fell out of the truck after he’d opened his door, and I did laugh this time. I shook my head and followed him out. He sent me a wicked grin over his shoulder, and I slapped him on the ass playfully. The tease.

We headed through the lobby and said our hellos to Callaway as he greeted us with a wide grin and a small tip of his hat. Usually, Wade would stop to talk because they’d become friends over the last few months, but he was too busy trying to get to the elevator. I didn’t blame him. I wanted him just as much.

By the time we got to the apartment, Wade’s desperation seeped through his cool, obedient composure, and he nearly tripped as soon as he got through the door in an attempt to shove off his shoes and socks.

I hummed and pointed to the black socks. “Laundry basket, Shoelicker. Don’t be a slob.”

He moaned and fluttered his eyelashes at me, a noticeable shudder sweeping through him. “Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

I toed my left shoe off before doing the same to the right. When my socks came off, I threw them at Wade, who’d waited patiently because he already knew this was his task.

I winked at him. “Good little shoelicker.”

He sucked in a deep breath, practically buzzing with anticipation. He gripped the socks tightly to his chest as he hurried toward the bathroom to throw them in the basket. By the time he came back, I’d taken a seat on the couch, legs stretched out and opened wide. He stared, and I grinned at him, patting my thigh.

“Come here, Pretty. Show your Sir how much you want me.”

He walked around the couch slowly, his hands latched onto the lapels of his suit as he stared at me, asking for permission. A simple nod was all it took before he slid off the jacket. He took his time to fold it carefully, and I smiled in pride.

“Good boy,” I murmured, and he let out a small breath at those two words.

Wade loved both praise and degradation, but I’d learned that there were some days when he needed one more than the other. Today, he’d told me he wanted to be good, so he craved compliments, and I was going to give them to him.

I held out my hand. “Come here, sweetheart.”

He put his palm in mine and slid onto my lap, burying his face against my neck immediately. He pressed small butterfly kisses over my skin, delicate touches of his lips that promised a lot more if I gave him permission. He’d grown confident, and I relished the newfound freedom he seemed to have unearthed. I still gave him orders, and he still waited for my guidance, but he took initiative, too.

“Hm. Get naked, Pretty. Let me see you without clothes.” I smoothed my palms over his chest and down his abs, then shoved him gently. “Take them off. Slowly. Show me what belongs to me.”

His tongue darted out to lick the skin below my ear before he pushed away from me again. He stood, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and stared at me with lust-filled eyes. He unbuttoned the cuffs on his shirt. Next, his hands went to the top button of his shirt and he carefully, slowly, popped the first one before working his way down. His movements were purposeful and teasing, and he smiled so wickedly in my direction that I thought I was going to combust with the need that thrummed through me.

Desire swirled hot in my body and blood surged south, straight to my cock. I leaned against the sofa and spread my arms along the back, smirking as I kept my gaze on Wade and the way he rocked his hips.

He peered at me through lowered eyelashes, the submissiveness in his approach a huge fucking turn-on, and my cock throbbed at the sight of him like this. Teasing. Obedient. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.

His fingers slipped to the last button, and he tugged at the shirt, untucking it from his belted pants before slipping it off his slim shoulders. I took in the lines of his torso, the way his abs curved just a little to create a cute tummy, and how the buds of his nipples peaked, and my mouth watered. I wanted to kiss him everywhere, mark him again as my previous bite marks began to fade on his hairless body.

I hummed. “You’ll need to be waxed again soon.”

He nodded his head instantly. “Yes, Sir.”

He glided his hand over his middle and up to his chest, playing with his right nipple gently. He rolled the nub between his fingers, then pinched it, a gasp slipping from between his pretty pink lips.

My cock jumped, and I cupped myself, rubbing harder than I needed to. I couldn’t tear my eyes off him, and I didn’t want to, either. He was a full five-course feast to watch, and I was still absolutely starving. Fuck. He was delicious and I craved to devour him whole.

“Pants off. Now,” I ordered with a low growl.

He grinned, the little devil, and he took his time unbuckling his belt. It was obvious he was punishing me for the slow driving, but when I was done with him, he’d regret his attitude. I’d make sure of it.

Finally, he shoved down his pants and underwear, leaving him naked for my eyes to eat up, and fuck he was gorgeous. Small bruises were scattered across his thighs and knees, reminding me of when I’d bitten every inch of his beautiful skin a few days ago. I’d made sure to mark him as evidence of who he belonged to, and he’d reacted so prettily. Everything he did only tempted me more and more. He was an addiction, and I couldn’t get enough.

I bent my finger toward him, beckoning him closer, and he came without hesitation. “Unzip me and fuck yourself on my cock, Pretty. Make your Sir proud. Be the good boy I know you are.”

A small breath escaped him, and he moaned. He took a few steps forward, then paused. “Sir. . . can I get the lube from the bedroom?”

I tilted my head, and he grinned, recognizing it for the go-ahead. He knocked his shin on the couch on the way past, and I winced when he hissed, but the pain didn’t get the best of him as he hurried into the bedroom to grab the essentials.

A few moments later, he was back and as eager as before, the lube clutched in his hand like a lifeline.

I waved at the bulge in my pants and grinned. “Have at it, Pretty. Show me how much you want to be my good boy.”

He turned his head, but I didn’t miss the excited smile he tried to hide from me. He wiped the expression off his face quickly and lowered his chin against his chest in a sign of obedience, and he stepped forward. He fell to his knees in front of me, placing his hands on my thighs and rubbing up and down my legs. I stayed still, my attention caught on his face and the way he glanced up at me with a look I couldn’t quite describe. He stared at me as if I’d hung the moon and the stars, and if I hadn’t already told him that I loved him, I would’ve done it here and now.

He was my perfect submissive. Mine.

He unzipped my pants, careful to make sure he didn’t catch anything important, and then went to my belt and unbuckled it. He was doing it all backward, but if there was anything I’d learned about Wade since the start of this relationship—because that’s what it was—it was that he liked to do things differently. A lot like me. We’d been doing everything backward from the beginning.

He unbuttoned my pants and tugged, and I lifted my hips, letting him yank the material so it was scrunched up at my knees. I didn’t bother shoving them any farther because as long as I had enough room to free my cock, I wasn’t worried about it.

He dragged my underwear down next, and my cock swung free, jerking up to slap against my abs. The tip left behind precum on my dress shirt, but I ignored it as I reached down to grab the base of my cock, shaking it at Wade.

“Come on, Pretty. You’re taking too long.”

He chuckled, then stopped when I frowned at him. “Sorry, Sir.” He grabbed the lube and showed me the bottle. “Should I prepare myself, Sir, or do you want to⁠—”

“Finger yourself,” I ordered gently, smirking. “Turn your ass this way so I can see it. See you.”

He sucked in a deep breath and stood, knees shaking. He spun around in a circle, and I realized what he was doing, so I patted the couch beside me.

“Do it here.”

He didn’t hesitate for a second. He fell onto the couch on his ass and spread his legs. Taking the lube, he pumped some of it onto his fingers before throwing the bottle on the cushion beside me, then used his digits to prepare himself. It didn’t take long. Wade was able to handle some pain and he was desperate.

Regardless of his rush, I took the time to watch him and the way his two fingers stretched his rim. The small sounds that slipped from between his lips were downright sinful, and my cock jerked. He was second-knuckle deep, hips rocking like he was trying to find his prostate, before he snuffled in frustration and glanced at me.

“Can I ride you now, Sir? Please.”

He asked so nicely that I couldn’t say no.

I crooked my finger at him. “Come here, Beautiful.”

He slid off the couch and came to stand in front of me. Biting his lip, he sat in my lap with his knees on either side of me. He rocked forward, his cock sliding against mine, making us both groan.

“Fuck, Pretty, what are you doing to me?” I cupped his cheek and drew him in for a long kiss that had him whimpering in my mouth. He tasted like his late afternoon coffee, which I’d lectured him about more than once. His heart condition made it dangerous for him to drink too much caffeine, but I hadn’t outright ordered him to stop drinking the coffee. While I cared about him, I wasn’t going to boss him around about that sort of thing unless it truly messed with his health.

I rolled my tongue against his, and he pulled himself closer. “Can I, Sir?”

“Mm. Yes.” I laid a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Fuck yourself on me.”

Gaze caught on mine in a staring dance of lust, he raised himself over me and reached between his legs to grab my cock, lining it up with his hole, and then gently lowered himself. His tightness consumed me, pressing down on my sensitive length and drawing me in until I was balls deep.

The most obscene sound left his mouth, and he shuddered, arms wrapped around my shoulders as he held on tight. “Sir, I love your cock.” He whimpered and whined, and I grasped his hips, keeping him still while I took a moment to compose myself so I wouldn’t come already and break the moment. I always wanted more of him.

“Fuck, you’re just the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” I laid an array of kisses along his jaw. “So fucking perfect for me, aren’t you? My sweet obedient sub. So good for me.”

His whines grew louder, and he rolled his hips. “Always for you, Sir. Fuck. Albion. Love you. Love you so much.”

I dragged him closer until our chests were pressed together and kissed over his cheek and his forehead. I closed my eyes and breathed him in, savoring this moment. Us. Together. I nosed the shell of his ear and tugged at his earlobe with my teeth. “I love you, too, Wade. So fucking perfect for me. Who do you belong to?”

He groaned and tried to move, but I held on tightly to his hips. “You, Sir. Only you. I’m yours.”

“Move,” I commanded in a gentle but firm tone.

He mewled, rocking his hips, and dug his fingers into my back as he rose until my cockhead was the only part inside of him before he sank down again. We both groaned, and I cursed under my breath.

The rhythm began. Slow. Delicate. I curled my arms around his waist, giving him control of the pace, and he used it to his advantage, utilizing my cock to chase his pleasure. He shifted every so often, finding the right direction to peg his prostate, and I knew when he’d found it because his entire body trembled. So sexy. The shudder began at his shoulders and worked its way south, and he paused for about thirty seconds to catch his breath and moan at the same time.

My name left his lips, both a prayer and a curse, and he held on to me tightly as though he expected me to disappear.

I kissed his cheek, then his lips. “Come on, Pretty. Ride me. Don’t leave your Sir waiting.”

He dropped his forehead against mine. He began to move again—up and down, my cock sliding in and out of him. His speed grew and the echoes of our moans and the sounds of skin slapping filled the room. Sweat gleamed on his smooth body, making him shiny. A beacon of light for my pleasure.

Finally, I had enough of letting him do the work, and I thrust up into him at the same time he came down, and my balls smacked against his ass.

“Fuck. Sir.” He buried his face against my neck and nibbled, caught between moaning and whimpering for more as I began my assault.

I didn’t let him off easy. I hammered into him without remorse. His hole squeezed around me, and with each thrust inside, I felt like I was being lured home where I belonged.

“Sir.” He arched his back, hand flying to his cock. While I hadn’t given him permission, I let him get away with touching himself. This time. He shouted out in pleasure. “Please. I’m so close.”

Beads of perspiration crawled down my face, and I gritted my teeth. In. Out. In. Out. Fuck, my balls were on fire, ready to unload inside him. “Come for me, Pretty. Show me how much you love my cock. Be my good boy. You’re such an obedient sub. Blow for me.”

“Hngh.” He rolled his entire body like a goddamned dancer, and his fist worked furiously over his cock. Streams of cum shot from his slit, painting our chests. He moaned, head thrown back and bottom lip caught between his teeth again.

Fucking perfection.

I wasn’t far behind him. Three more thrusts and I released into him, blasting my cum deep. I groaned and flopped back onto the couch. Wade came with me, so we were chest to chest. He laid his cheek on my shoulder, face pointed toward me, as he panted in exhaustion.

“Wow.”

I laughed gently and smoothed my hand over his sweaty hair. “I love you, Wade Lee Sawyer.”

He gave me a silly smile. “Yeah, I know.”

I poked him in the side. “What do you have to say to your Sir, Shoelicker?”

His eyes twinkled. “I love you, too, Albion.”

I drew him closer and sighed. So, this was what happiness felt like.

Thank you for reading The Ownership Clause!

If you would like to learn more about how Wick and Maurice fell in love, their story is Cuddle Bear.

THE NEW GOTHENBURG WORLD

Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory would like to invite you to explore further into the seedy underbelly of New Gothenburg.

http://www.gothenburgworld.com

We have an official reading order here:

https://www.gothenburgworld.com/reading-order

* * *

Kings of Men Motorcycle Club Series

Ki Brightly and M.D. Gregory

1. King’s Killer

1.5. King’s Rogue

2. King’s Eyes

3. King’s Criminals

4. King’s Pawn

5. King’s Undertaker

6. King’s Undercover Fed

7. King’s Virtuous Son

8. King’s Barber

9. King’s Ex-Cons

10. King’s Silver Knight

* * *

The Killough Company

M.D. Gregory

1. The Boss

1.5 Boss’s Christmas

2. The Professional

3. The Assassin

* * *

The Reyes Cartel

Ki Brightly and M.D. Gregory

1. High

* * *

The Love Me Series (MMF)

Ki Brightly and Kiki Jested

1. Love Me STAT

2. Love Me Slow

3. Love Me Sweet

* * *

City Hall Series

Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

1. Staking His Claim

2. Denial

3. Cuffed

4. Sold for the Night

* * *

The Courtesan Hotel

1. The Madam’s Baby Boy by Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

* * *

The Bully Series

Ki Brightly

1. Bully Beatdown

2. Bully Rescue

* * *

The Norse Lords MC

M.D. Gregory

1. Thor

* * *

Irish Roulette

Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

1. How Did You Survive Without Us?

2. How Do You Survive With Us?

3. How Did You Survive Alone?

4. How Do You Survive a Kiss?

5. How Do We Survive Together?

* * *

The Fool Series

Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

1. Fool’s Gold

2. Fool’s Errand

* * *

The Sweeney Mob

Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

1. Legend

* * *

Vengeance and Payback Duet

Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

1. Vengeance with a Kiss

* * *

The NGU Polar Storms

Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

1. Puck Around and Find Out

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Other Books in New Gothenburg

Santa’s Bratty Elf by Ki Brightly

The Promise by Ki Brightly and Meg Bawden

Bent, Not Broken by Ki Brightly and M.D. Gregory

Curved: A Bent, Not Broken Novella by Ki Brightly and M.D. Gregory

You’ve Got to be Kitten Me by Ki Brightly & Meg Bawden

Yes, Sir by Ki Brightly & Meg Bawden

Dirty Secret by Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

Best Belly Buddies by Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

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Speak and Obey by Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

Say Uncle by Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

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Other Books in St. Loren

Sin & Supplication by Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

I’m Not Your Butler by Ki Brightly

Cuddle Bear by Ki Brightly

The Ownership Clause by Ki Brightly

The Family Bond by Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory

THE VANHEIM WORLD

Ki Brightly & M.D. Gregory would like to invite you to explore the paranormal world of Vanheim.

No Peeking by Ki Brightly

Gutsy by Ki Brightly