4. Knives

FOUR

KNIVES

I don't know why I kissed him.

The anger, the way he'd fought back against me, the high of the fight—I can blame any of these things.

It doesn't change the fact that I've got him boxed in against his car, our lips mashed together. I bite on his bottom lip, and he groans in response. I use that slight part in his lips to thrust my tongue inside, forcing the kiss to deepen.

I half-expect him to bite my tongue, but he doesn't. He's always so open for me, even pissed off, even hating me. Because I can tell that right now, that's exactly what he's feeling.

He kisses me back anyway, desperate and needy, and he wraps one of his legs around the back of mine to urge me closer. I'm not even sure he's aware he's doing it.

I push my pelvis against his. I'm still half-hard from the adrenaline, and I want him to feel it, to feel me .

I want him to forget about that other man, about the flogging and the fucking show they'd been giving. Watching Maddox submit in public had made my vision turn red. Maybe lashing out wasn't my finest hour, but it's led to this, here.

I slide one hand underneath his shirt and drag my nails over his abs. "I'm going to fuck you," I tell him, my voice rough. "Right here, up against the car."

Maddox makes a choked sound, half between a groan and agreement, and he kisses me again.

Tonight is the first time we've kissed in a long, long time.

We used to do this a lot. When we were horny teenagers who didn't know what they were doing, we would make out while trying to work up to something more. We'd been each other's firsts, discovering what we liked and how to make another person feel good.

I want to hurt him, though. I want to put my own marks on his back and cover up the welts he must have now.

"Turn around," I growl at him.

He looks up at me, expression confused, and for a moment, I think he's going to argue.

But he obeys like he always does, and I push his shirt up to look at his back. Jealousy roils within me as I stare at the welts, and I dig my fingernails into them, marking over them.

He lets out a quiet little whine, thrusting his hips back against me.

I'm dimly aware that none of this is helping my case. Yes, I treat him like trash, because he fucking deserves it.

But I don't want anybody else to touch him either. I want to be the only person to fuck him up.

I'm not going to dwell on my feelings though. This is just about getting all the anger and emotions out of my system.

"Unbuckle your belt," I growl as I unzip my fly. "Spread your legs. I'm going to finger you open."

The sound he makes is strangled, and he shakes his head weakly. "Nayeem…"

I freeze. Nobody has called me by my real name in years. It's strange to hear it, let alone on his lips, in that tone.

I grab the back of his neck and squeeze, ignoring the tightness in my chest. " Do it . Get yourself ready for me."

I can hear him swallow hard, and he lets out a low, shaky breath. At first, I think he's not going to do it, and I grip him more tightly. He moans, finally obeying me and unbuckling his belt. He slides his pants down, not caring about our location in the parking lot, and presents his pert ass to me.

I let go of his neck so I can squeeze his ass, spreading his cheeks to reveal his hole. I'm tempted to plunge right in, but even in this haze I don't want to cause permanent damage.

Just a little damage.

I lean down to spit on his hole, then quickly coat two of my fingers with spit. I give the sensitive skin around his hole a few cursory rubs before thrusting the fingers inside.

Maddox arches, thrusting back against my fingers. "Don't… I don't have a condom."

I let out a harsh laugh. "I do."

Not because I'd intended to fuck anybody here—but I'd been at the twink's place first, and I've been carrying condoms on me all the time lately, just in case I find Maddox alone somewhere.

I keep fingering him, closing in on his prostate and taking in all his moans and trembles. His ass clenches around my fingers, and I know from experience just how good it's going to feel when I've got my cock in there.

"Of course you do," he mutters, and he sounds bitter. "Who were you gonna fuck, huh? Guess I'm not the one who'll fuck anything with legs."

"I'm fucking you ," I growl, ramming my fingers in farther.

Maddox moans and spreads his legs wider.

I pull my fingers out and fumble for the condom in my jeans pocket. It takes a few tries to get it open and roll it onto my cock. I spit in my hand so I can lube myself up nominally, then line myself up.

"Got any complaints?" I ask, rubbing the tip of my cock against his hole.

"No," he mumbles, shaking his head. "Just… Just fuck me, you asshole."

That's all the invitation I need. I thrust into him, groaning at how fucking tight he is. I guess I know he hasn't been fucked tonight already.

The thought of somebody else fucking him, loosening him up, making him cry out and beg threatens to turn my vision red. I tighten my grip on his hips, and I hope I leave big, dark bruises on him that will make it clear to everybody that he's not available.

Except he is available.

I don't want Maddox. Maddox is a fucking traitor, somebody who can't be trusted or relied on, somebody who is only out for himself.

I shouldn't fucking care that somebody else takes his ass.

I push the thoughts down and focus just on how hot he is, how he's clenching for me and drawing my cock in.

He's breathing heavily, his head bowed and pressed against the side of the car as he keeps his ass up so I can fuck him more easily. No matter what he says, what he does, he wants me to fuck him.

The cool night air reminds me of where exactly we are, and I think about how anybody could walk by. One of the patrons from the club might come out here and see me fucking Maddox within an inch of his life.

That should be the show they get, not one where Maddox gets a pathetic excuse for a flogging by a man who probably doesn't lift anything heavier than his shoes.

We don't want to get the cops called on us for indecent exposure, though. We're in a relatively dark corner of the parking lot, but Maddox is being so fucking loud. His little grunts and mewls that are driving me wild are also echoing through the parking lot.

I place my hand over his mouth on the next thrust and lean closer. "Keep fucking quiet. You'll give us away."

Maddox groans against my hand, tilting his head back as he tries to look at me. I can see the desperation in his face—that, and something guarded that tells me he's trying to keep everything from me.

I want to fuck him harder, to fuck those emotions out into the open.

I snake my other hand down to his cock, gratified that he's completely hard. I start stroking him in time with my thrusts. The angle and movement is awkward, but I don't give a fuck. I just need him to let go of whatever he's holding back.

He doesn't get to fucking hide from me.

And he doesn't.

Before long, he's spilling into my hand, his moans loud despite my other hand trying to stifle them. I wish I could hear them, but that would mean fucking him somewhere that isn't a storage closet or an alleyway, somewhere we both lose control instead of rethinking it somehow.

But I can't, and I won't. I will take this, though, and I come hard into the condom thinking about how his voice sounds when he's begging, hoarse with pleasure and need. Does he still sound the same?

It's been too long since I've heard him beg for me.

I stay inside him while I wait for my orgasm to subside. His ass keeps clenching and unclenching around me, and I think about how good that would feel without the condom, like he was trying to milk my cock.

I slide my hand away from his mouth and rest it on his hip.

This is the part where I should pull away. I should leave to go do whatever I was on my way to do before I stopped to fuck Maddox, except there's nowhere else for me to be right now.

He sags against the car, mumbling something I can't understand. He's completely and utterly spent, I can tell that much, and the idea of him driving like this doesn't give me a good feeling. But what else am I supposed to do? Stick him in a rideshare and let him stumble his way up to his apartment?

I pull out and toss the condom onto the parking lot concrete, then shuffle over to my car so I can grab the tissues from inside. After I've wiped down and tucked my cock away, I turn to Maddox once more.

He's still just resting against the car.

"Maddox?" My voice sounds odd to my ears.

"Mm?" he replies. He sounds almost drunk.

Fuck. I've seen a few other subs get like this, but I don't usually stick around long after the session is over. Maybe that's irresponsible, but they know I'm not in it to give them more than a good time.

Maddox doesn't want me here, I'm sure, but he's resting against his car with his cock out. There's no telling how long it'll take for him to come to his senses and go home.

"I'll drive you home," I say grudgingly. "You can pick up your car in the morning."

That's what I'd do for any friend who's drunk, and subspace is almost the same thing, right?

He turns his head to look at me, blinking a few times. "What? No." He shakes his head, fumbling with his cock after a moment to get it tucked away. He leaves his belt unfastened, though. "I'll call…" His brows furrow. "Someone. I'll call someone."

I don't know who he'd call, but I definitely don't want them to see him like this.

"I'm already here," I point out. I open my passenger door and grab Maddox, shoving him inside.

He groans but doesn't move to get out. "Yeah, but I don't like you. That's why I punched you in the face." He lets out a choked sounding laugh. "Fuck, I hate you."

I scowl at him. "I don't particularly like you either." I get into the driver's side and start up the car. "You suck at making decisions even when you haven't been worked over. Now tell me where I'm taking you."

"I don't want you taking me anywhere," he says. I can hear him fumbling with his belt. He sighs, resting his head against the car window. "Fuck. I don't know. I don't care."

I wait for another few moments, but he doesn't say anything. I start driving, and since he doesn't give me an address, I end up heading back to my own apartment.

"Are you going to run once I park the car?" I ask as I pull into the parking garage.

Maddox lets out a laugh. "I'd totally win a foot-race against you right now," he informs me. He fumbles for the door handle when the car stops, and I hurry to get it for him before he can face-plant onto the pavement.

I don't know why I care. I should let him.

He stumbles into my chest, and I reflexively wrap an arm around him.

Maddox lets me hold him up, and I wonder just how fucked up he is right now. Between the scene and the fight and the fuck, I guess he has ample reason to be swimming in his thoughts, but now I'm wondering if he was taking something, too.

"Look, I've got… stuff." I wrack my brain to figure out what I should be giving him. I've got drinks, although it's mostly water or beer. I don't think he should be having the beer. Obviously I've got a robust first aid kit, but I also don't want to touch the welts some other man left on him. It'll really set me off.

Shit. None of that should matter. I don't fucking care about Maddox Gray.

I lead him inside the building anyway, up the elevator and to my apartment. Maddox doesn't say anything until we're at my door and I'm fumbling to unlock it.

He moves away from me, leaning heavily against the wall. "Your place, huh?" he asks, his voice still a little slurred still even though his eyes are clearing a little. "Wow. You must really be worried about me." He laughs again. "Shit, someone might even think you care."

I let out a disgruntled sound. "You ever learn to just shut up? You'd get farther if you did."

"Further," he corrects me with a flash of a smirk.

I flash him an annoyed look. "You're correcting my grammar now?"

"Yup. You gonna complain, Spoons?"

I give him a look, not understanding what spoons have to do with anything. Shaking my head, I push the door open and manhandle Maddox inside.

"Couch is right there." I say, pointing. It's not the most comfortable couch for sleeping if you're my size, but Maddox is a few inches shorter and will probably fit.

He'll have to fit, since there's no way in hell I'm letting him sleep in my bed.

He sways but manages to flop onto it. "Do you have any water? Carl always says I should drink water after a scene."

I'm not sure if he's trying to rile me up or not, but I bristle at the mention of that other piss-poor excuse of a dom.

"Yeah, I've got water," I growl, stalking over to the kitchen and grabbing a cup from the cabinet with more aggression than warranted.

Christ, I was going to get him water anyway.

I think this is what Lily called "bitch eating crackers" syndrome. Everything he does pisses me off, even if it's a innocuous as eating some fucking crackers, or asking for a glass of water.

I go back and set the cup down on the coffee table. "There. Your water."

Maddox blinks at me, then runs a hand through his already tousled hair. He still looks sexy as hell, and I can think of a few things I'd like to do with him now that I have him in my apartment.

But I'm not going to give in, and it's not like this is ever going to happen again. I just didn't want him to get hurt, or taken advantage of, or…

Fuck.

I don't care.

He picks up the cup with slightly shaky hands, downing half of it in one go. "Thanks," he says. "I know you fucking hate me, so… Really. Thanks."

"You'd hate you too," I point out, feeling awkward and defensive at the same time. "What you did… that's not fucking forgivable and you know it."

Maddox closes his eyes, his knuckles going white as he grips the cup more tightly. "I was a kid, Nayeem," he says quietly. "I got scared. I didn't… I didn't realize. I thought you could get away. I thought the cops would go easy on you. I thought… I don't know."

"You thought the fucking cops would go easy on an immigrant kid?" I say, sneering. The hurt roils up inside me all over again. "New Bristol's cops have been violent racists since long before my parents ever stepped foot into the country."

Maddox looks away, setting the cup back down with more care than I had. "I didn't think about that. I wasn't thinking at all. I was just so scared. We were seventeen, Knives. I was a stupid kid."

"I guess that means all your talk about forever and us against the world was just stupid kid talk too," I growl. I turn away from him and grab the blanket from the armchair. I toss it at him, not even wanting to look at his face. "Whatever. Just sleep it off. You'd better be gone by morning."

I storm into my bedroom and shut the door. If I didn't have to worry about my neighbors, I would have gladly slammed it.

Guess I'm still an immature fucking kid myself.