27. Cane

Fuck, but life was perfect.

Cane stood in the middle of the ring in his warehouse a couple weeks after it had all gone down, the space yawning empty around him. But it was clean, the police tape gone, the black cloud of the curse removed. Everything was back in order and ready to be opened up again that very evening. Cane's best fighter was going up against a promising newbie from Kinport, and the fight had been what everyone was talking about in their circles for days now.

The message he'd sent back with the hit men hired to kill him had been enough for the crime bosses to put a pause on ending him. Crime was a fickle mistress, after all, and it had been reconsidered whether Cane was really as down and out as they had labeled him.

Notoriety paid off in his line of work, even if it came with police investigation strings attached.

Cane snorted at the thought of the investigators digging and questioning and breathing down his neck without finding a single thing to actually pin on him or his business. Ares, despite the curse hiccup, had done his job well. Their asses were covered. The fact that they could pin half the bullshit on the curse was good too. Even the shit that had had nothing to do with it suddenly became the curse's fault. Convenient, if annoying.

And now with the added infamy of his almost downfall, the curse, and the following resurgence, he was doing better than ever. People seemed to have the impression that he was invincible. Or maybe just a cockroach that wouldn't die. Either way, it brought people slithering to his side again like they hadn't abandoned him in the first place, begging to be a part of what Cane was reclaiming.

Who fucking knew?

"You look awfully smug," a voice said from behind him, and he felt himself heat at the sound of it—the other, larger part of why Cane was living the life he never thought he'd get.

Hart.

He turned around and threw a smirk at the cursebreaker, running his gaze over his lean body. Hart was dressed like he was going to a damn movie premiere. A black suit, a dark red shirt, polished boots, and a floral tie and pocket square. There was a rose-shaped pin on his lapel, catching the dim lights in the warehouse. His hair was perfectly pinned into place, face clean-shaven and shiny from all the products he used.

He was so damn high maintenance. So out of place in Cane's warehouse. But also, he was meant to be there, by his side finally, after fighting for it tooth and nail. Against the world, against Hart's family, against Hart himself.

When Hart had finally agreed to be his, it had been the happiest moment of his life so far. He finally felt full. That aching hole inside of him had been satisfied, and the realization had dawned that he could have lived without his business, without all of it if it meant he got to have Hart.

He guessed he should thank Arianna and consequently Sarah for teaching him that.

"I have every reason to be smug, sweetheart," Cane said, reaching out and inviting Hart to step into the ring with him.

"Oh really? Do tell," Hart said, ducking under the ropes, slipping through the metal doorway, and walking right into Cane's arms. He wrapped himself around Cane's body, brushing their lips together quickly.

Too quickly, if you asked Cane. He pulled Hart in by the waist and deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into Hart's mouth and drinking in the soft moan he released. He felt him coil closer, grip him harder, open his mouth wider to let him in, and felt that same sense of pride and caveman-like satisfaction return full force.

"I don't know a man in this world who wouldn't be smug about making you react like this," he growled between their lips, hands straying down until his palms had Hart's ass in them, squeezing and pulling him forward, lining their hips up perfectly.

Hart was rock hard against him. Cane swore he could feel the heat radiating off him even through all the layers of clothing they both had on.

"Is that all it takes?" Hart asked. He was trying for teasing and aloof, but the tremble in his voice gave him away. Cane knew he could make him falter and crumble. Every single time.

"I'm a simple man."

He took a step forward, pushing Hart back. Little by little, step by step, until Cane felt the cool metal of the cage on the backs of his hands. He pushed Hart harder against it, crowding him in, gluing himself to his body, lowering his head to nose at Hart's throat.

He kissed Hart's Adam's apple, feeling it bob under his lips when he swallowed harshly. His breath was almost deafening in the echoing, empty space around them.

"Cane," he moaned when Cane's lips found the soft space behind his ear and he sucked on the skin.

He hummed, his lips stretching into a smile at the breathy sound of Hart's voice. Cane could always tell the moment Hart released his inhibitions and let himself be guided by Cane. He could detect that small shift in his posture, the tiny crack in the shield that allowed Cane to burrow inside and push his boundaries little by little.

Never enough to make him uncomfortable. No. He wanted Hart to feel safe with him, but he also wanted him wild. Wanted him experiencing new things. Wanted him to let go. So he pushed and prodded until he found something Hart responded well to.

Like now.

Hart had never been into public sex. Never wanted to be seen by others when Cane had him in hand. Never felt the need to share their trysts with others. But there was nobody around, and they were at the core of Cane's empire.

It felt poetic.

The warehouse had brought them back together, and Cane had fantasized about taking Hart right here so many times he'd lost fucking count.

"Please," Hart whispered when Cane bit down on his neck, his hands straying until his fingers were running along the seam of his trousers, just where his crack was.

"Please what, sweetheart?" Cane asked, pausing the assault on Hart's neck to lift his head and look at him.

"Need you," Hart said.

Cane brushed their lips together again.

"You see where we are?" he asked, and waited for Hart to look around them. He bit his lip for a moment before nodding. "Anyone could walk in on us. Anyone could see."

Hart blushed deep, his chest rising and falling faster. Cane could almost feel his heart thundering against his ribs.

"You won't let them," Hart said finally, his eyes finding Cane's and holding them firmly, even as his entire body shook in his arms.

"No?"

Hart shook his head slowly. "You wouldn't share me."

"And why not? You look like fucking sin. Why wouldn't I want to show it to everyone else? Brag about it. Be a smug dick about it even more."

"Because I don't need you to," Hart said, pushing his hips forward and brushing them against Cane's. "I don't need anyone to see me but you."

The animal inside Cane roared at the words, possessive and fucking feral with need. No, Hart didn't need anyone else. Because Cane could give him everything. Would keep giving him everything for as long as he could. Forever, if he had any fucking say in it.

"Good answer, sweetheart," Cane said, reaching forward to unbuckle Hart's belt and unzip his trousers. "You get a reward for that."

He spun him around, pushing him against the cage bars, chest flush against his back. He let go of his hips and ass to guide Hart's hands up and wrap his fingers around the bars.

"Here's what we'll do," he whispered into his ear. "You'll hold on to these for me."

Hart nodded, and Cane released his hands, trailing his fingers down his arms, chest, and stomach until he reached the waistband of his trousers. He reached through the bars so he could have Hart completely glued to them. Trapped between them.

He slipped his fingers inside his trousers, wrapping them around Hart's cock, pulling it out through the bars and giving it a long, slow stroke.

"And I'm gonna make you come," Cane said, thumbing at the hot head of his cock. Spreading the precum to make the slide of his hand smoother. "Right here. In the middle of the ring. In the middle of my world, sweetheart. Right where you belong."

Hart gasped, throwing his head back to land on Cane's shoulder. His grip on the metal bars tightened until his knuckles turned white.

Cane stroked him slowly, leisurely. Like they had all day. All the time in the world to come. His other hand joined the first inside Hart's pants. He found Hart's balls, heavy and warm, and cupped them in his palm. Rolled them gently.

He used the position Hart was in to suck on his neck and kiss the shell of his ear. He ground his cock into Hart's covered ass, teasing himself. Edging himself until he felt his eyes roll. Torturing himself because he had decided he wouldn't let himself come just then. He'd take the ache and the pain and carry it with him for the rest of the day.

This was Hart's. Just for him.

He sped up his strokes, smiling at the loud moans Hart let out. They echoed in the empty warehouse like a soundtrack to the most amazing fucking thing Cane had ever seen. It bounced off the walls Cane owned. It reverberated through space that belonged to him.

Just like Hart.

Hart's hips started moving on their own, meeting Cane's strokes, urging him to move faster for him. Cane could recognize the signs of him getting close to the edge—his voice got louder, hoarser and he turned his head on Cane's shoulder, desperately searching for Cane's lips. The angle was awkward as fuck. The best Cane could do was kiss the corner of his mouth and coax his tongue out so they could tangle them, licking at each other like animals.

The walls were crumbling completely. The cage rattled with their movements, because of Hart's trembles and the struggle to keep holding on to it. Cane felt his knees buckling and pushed him against the cage harder, holding him up.

He was stroking faster, reaching behind his balls and finding that soft spot between them and the entrance to Hart's body. He pressed against it. Rubbed at it. Mimicking what he would have done if he had thought this through properly and could actually fuck Hart right where they were.

Hart keened, letting out loud sobs and thrashing against the metal cage as he chased his release.

Cane had half a mind to stop, to leave him frustrated and shaking until they were both out of their minds with need.

"Please," Hart moaned again, and the idea evaporated into thin air. Hart's pleasure became the center of his universe. His needs became Cane's needs. He tightened his fist, licked a stripe over Hart's neck, and stilled completely.

"Take what you need, sweetheart," he whispered into his ear, and Hart gripped the bars harder, using them as leverage as he snapped his hips forward, fucking into Cane's fist wildly, moaning in frustration. In need. In desperation.

"Almost there," Cane said, pulsing his fingers around Hart's cock a little bit, giving Hart some added sensation. "I can feel you're close. Just keep going."

Hart sobbed, throwing his upper body back against Cane's as he snapped his hips forward harder, faster. He choked. Tears sprang from his eyes and Cane licked them away. Hart shook. And bucked. And screamed when he finally hit his peak and spilled all over Cane's fingers. He painted the floor beneath them white, drops of it catching on the metal bars.

It felt endless.

The orgasm ebbed and flowed until Hart slumped against him like a rag doll. Completely spent. Weak in the knees and satisfied to his bones.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Cane said, holding him up with one hand as he brought the other to his lips, licking Hart's release off his fingers.

As clean as he could get it, he brought it back down and tucked Hart back into his trousers, smiling at how he flinched from oversensitivity.

He turned him around so they were face to face again, Hart's back braced against the cage.

"What about you?" Hart asked, voice ruined from screaming, face flushed a beautiful pink.

Cane shook his head.

"I have plans," Cane said, kissing Hart's lips and pushing his tongue inside to share Hart's taste with him.

"What kind?" Hart asked, when he could.

"I'm noting your debt in my ledger," Cane said with a wink. "I'll call it in at some point."

"What?" Hart asked, blinking a little dumbly.

"Yup. This is one earth-shattering orgasm I gave you without coming myself."

"Earth shattering?" Hart tried for haughty, but he was too spent and tired to pull it off. "Don't flatter yourself."

"I could hear my cage rattling, sweetheart," Cane said. "Lying doesn't suit you."

Hart rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips were pulled into a small smile, one he only ever gave to Cane. One Cane felt possessive over. One he'd never want anyone else to see.

"Fine," Hart relented. "It was perfectly satisfactory."

"Mhm." Cane nodded. "And now you owe me."

Hart looked him in the eye, the chocolate brown of them almost completely overtaken by the lusty black. The intensity bored into Cane's soul.

He leaned forward and kissed Cane. That special kind of kiss they only shared sometimes. The slow, aching, caring kind they'd spent so long staying away from. The kind that still seemed foreign no matter how good it felt.

The kiss that promised them they had a future.

Hart broke it, looking him in the eye again before nodding.

"I do owe you," he whispered into the space between them. "I owe you for more than you'll ever know."