7. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Adrian's hand doesn't touch mine as he leads me down yet another endless corridor, but it might as well—the pull is fucking magnetic. The air around us thickens, turning warmer, more intimate as I trail behind him.

The manor is a labyrinth, each hallway stretching out like veins beneath skin. The flickering light from the sconces lining the walls cast long shadows that seem to reach out and wrap around me, tugging me forward.

Deeper.

Like even if I wanted to turn around, I wouldn't know the way back.

We eventually stop in front of wooden doors carved with intricate symbols I can't quite make out in the dim light. Adrian pauses for a second, fingers hovering over the ornate handle, then pushes the doors open with a soft groan of ancient hinges.

"Holy fucking shit."

Mirrors are everywhere. The walls, the ceiling even. It's like stepping into a broken kaleidoscope.

And there are so many goddamn candles. The room glows like it's on fire, every flame multiplied a hundred fucking times by the mirrors, creating an almost dizzying effect.

I take a few steps inside, my balance wavering, as if the floor itself might ripple beneath me. My throat tightens around a dry breath, and I quickly scan the distorted reflections.

Of myself.

Dozens of versions at different angles scattered across the walls.

"Thought you would enjoy the idea of being watched, of performing for yourself."

I quirk a brow, rolling my eyes. "So, what? In a few days you had contractors set this shit up . . . for me?"

He just brushes his sleeve, as if wiping away invisible lint. "As I mentioned, the manor has a lot to offer, and I recognize its full potential, including the room of mirrors."

I've always liked mirrors—liked being watched, liked seeing my strength, my control—but this? It's as though the house is showing me something deeper, something I don't want to see.

"You're holding on too tight," Adrian says quietly, his voice soft but pointed, like a knife dressed in silk. He steps closer, his breath warm against my neck. "I can feel it."

I shift my weight, trying to calm down, but fuck, my hands are shaking. I glance down, flexing my fingers like it'll somehow ground me.

Get it together, Kane.

I take a deep breath, then exhale while rolling my shoulders, trying to remind myself who the fuck I am. I've done this a thousand times. I've always used sex to carve out some small piece of control in the world.

Adrian's fingertips brush against my forearm, light, teasing, but enough to send a tremor down my spine. "Let go, Jasper."

I don't know how to respond because I'm always the one taking charge, the one leading, pushing, controlling. But now, in this fucking maze of reflections, I'm the one being led.

The worst part?

A part of my brain likes how he's pulling me in. And the way his voice wraps around me, the way he just fucking exists in this space, is making it so goddamn hard to resist.

"News flash. It isn't as easy as you make it seem."

"It can be." He steps in front of me, his eyes locking with mine. "Just trust me."

"What about me says I trust easily?"

"You must, since you just opened up to me. Or did you not mean to let it slip that you have trust issues?"

Fuck.

A low growl rumbles in my chest. I'd meant it as sarcasm, but there's truth behind it, and Adrian is too perceptive.

He doesn't speak, just unbuttons my shirt. Then, he peels it open, baring my chest to the cool air. His touch is light, almost too gentle, but I feel every fucking second of it like it's burning into me as he pushes the material away from my body.

For the first time in a long time, I'm not sure what's going to happen next, and my heartbeat becomes erratic. I catch glimpses of myself in the mirrors—my skin flushed, my chest rising and falling too fast, too shallow.

I smirk at Adrian, reaching out to undress him. "Bet you can't wait to have me fill you."

He catches my wrist. His grip is firm and unyielding, and he gently pulls my hand back down. "Not tonight. Tonight is mine, Jasper."

My chest tightens. "What—"

"Trust me." His fingers graze the waistband of my jeans, undoing the button. Then he pushes them—along with my boxers—to the floor. "Let me guide you."

I step out of the pile, standing naked before him, cock fully erect.

Fuck.

"A little eager?"

My gaze drops to his groin. "I can say the same thing about you."

"Why wouldn't I be? You are a very sexy man." He takes my hand and guides me toward a strange metal contraption in the center of the room that looks like it was built to break men.

My stomach twists. But I keep fucking moving.

The stand is cold and industrial, but with a padded platform at about a forty-five-degree angle. I've seen one before.

An immobilization stand.

I whip my head around to Adrian. "Yeah, no. I'm not a submissive."

His hand brushes the back of my neck, gentle at first, but then his grip tightens. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make my breath hitch. "Are you afraid?"

My upper lip twitches, my eyes narrowing farther. "No."

"I'm not asking you to give up control of your life, Jasper. Just to experience it during sex for once. To enjoy the freedom of surrender."

I snort.

"Being in control is tiring. I know from experience. Let me take care of you, of your needs, so all you have to do is just experience the pleasure."

My jaw clenches, my throat tightening.

I can't remember the last time—or anytime—someone took care of me. Not even my parents.

Adrian gives the nape of my neck a squeeze, then pushes me forward until my chest presses against the padded platform. He holds my head down as he locks the metal collar and wrist restraints, immobilizing me from the waist up.

It isn't uncomfortable. Well, not physically.

But how is this freeing?

I glance at my reflection—at the man who always takes charge. Now, all I see is a man about to completely fucking break.

"Let go, Jasper. You'll be fine."

I grunt, hating the way he's exposing the cracks in my confidence.

"Look at yourself again. Not at your face, but at your body."

My gaze travels back to my reflection, dropping low. My dick's hard, red, and dripping. A string of precum hangs off the tip. I buck at the sight, a small moan escaping my lips.

"See, if it was so bad, you wouldn't be responding like this."

"Whatever."

He chuckles as he undresses, neatly folding his clothes into a pile off to the side. Then he circles to my back, his fingertips trailing down my spine, slow and deliberate. "Have you ever bottomed before?"

"Once."

"Was it a bad experience? Is that why you're so resistant?"

"Bad in the way it was boring as fuck."

"I promise this will be anything but boring." His hands glide over my ass, his touch light but firm, causing me to gasp.

The restraints bite into my wrists and neck, forcing me to remain still as his fingers trace intricate patterns across my skin. Every touch is electrifying, amplified by my inability to move or reciprocate.

"Fuck."

My cock twitches, my hips squirm, and I grind my teeth together, trying to hold on to whatever sliver of control I have left.

But fuck, it's slipping.

Fast.

"Stop trying to control your body." His nails dig into my waist, leaving angry red trails in their wake. I hiss through clenched teeth, the pain mingling with an unexpected surge of pleasure.

Then his hand moves lower, cupping my ass before delivering a sharp, stinging slap.

"Fuck!" I cry out, the sound echoing off the mirrored walls.

"That's it, Jasper. Let me hear you." His palm connects with my flesh again, alternating between cheeks.

The pain blossoms, hot and insistent, before melting into a perverse kind of pleasure that coils in my gut. I fight against the urge to cry out, but a strangled moan escapes my lips.

"Don't hold back."

The next blow elicits a full-throated groan from me as my back arches.

I can't escape the sight of myself in the mirrors, barely recognizing the wanton creature reflecting back at me. My cock throbs, neglected and desperate for attention, as my hips thrust involuntarily, seeking friction that isn't there.

"Have you ever been this hard, Jasper?" Adrian's question cuts through the haze of sensation.

"N-no." Since when do I fucking stutter?

The snap of a bottle cap makes me tense. Cool liquid drips between my ass cheeks, followed by the insistent press of Adrian's finger. "Relax, let me work you open."

I hiss through the burn of the stretch as he breaches me.

He's slow, methodical, adding a second finger when I start to push back against his hand, then scissoring his fingers inside me.

"Oh god. Fuck."

"Submission looks good on you. Just look at how your cock is drooling for me."

I glance back at the mirrors, at my dick, watching as I push myself back onto Adrian's fingers. Then he withdraws them, leaving me feeling achingly empty.

The sound of a condom wrapper being torn open fills the air, followed a few seconds later by the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. "Do you want this, Jasper?"

"Yes. Fuck, yes. I need to come."

He enters me slowly, giving me time to adjust to the unfamiliar fullness. The initial discomfort gives way to pleasure as he begins to move, his hips snapping against mine with increasing force.

"You're so tight. So hot inside."

I yank my wrists, but they don't move. All I can do is moan and cry out as each thrust sends shockwaves through my body, pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

Adrian's hands roam my body, alternating between gentle caresses and sharp, stinging slaps. The contrast is maddening, keeping me constantly off-balance.

"Adrian . . ."

"You can take it, Jasper. Because this is what you need. This is what you've always needed." His voice is like a drug, seeping into my mind, breaking down my resistance.

My hips writhe, my breath ragged as my orgasm builds, coiling tighter and tighter in my core. "Please, fuck. Oh god."

"Beg for it, Jasper. Let go a little bit and allow yourself to beg."

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I fight it. I've never begged. Ever. Not even as a child. But each thrust, each brush of his cock over my prostate, breaks my will until I finally cave.

"Please, fuck, please. Adrian, make me come. I need to come. Oh fuck, I need it. I need it. Please, Adrian, please."

His thrusts become brutal, more erratic, his breathing harsh in my ear. My asshole flutters, clenching on him, my muscles tense, dick throbbing so hard it hurts. And with a final snap of his hips, he pushes me over the edge.

I come untouched, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash over me. Adrian yanks my hair to hold my head up, forcing me to watch as my release paints the floor below and as he goes over the edge.

When the aftershocks subside, the world around me fades away, leaving only the sensation of Adrian's hands on my body and the lingering echo of his voice in my ears. I'm not sure how long I stay like that, lost in the haze of pleasure and submission, but eventually, Adrian releases me from the restraints, helping me stand upright.

He leads me to a nearby chaise, where I collapse, my body still trembling. He sits beside me, his hand resting gently on my thigh. I can't bring myself to meet his gaze.

I'm too raw, too exposed.

"You did well, Jasper. For someone who's used to being in control, letting go is not an easy thing to do."

I nod, still unable to find my voice. A strange mix of shame and exhilaration, humiliation and liberation, swirls inside. Like I've stepped into a new world, one where all my old certainties have been shattered, and I'm not sure what to make of it.