23.

TWENTY-THREE

Rafael

“Don’t you have to go to work?” I ask Dominic when the others are gone, Dante to work and Noah to recon the pizzeria.

We haven’t moved from the couch. I have my legs crossed. Dominic is leaning forward, legs spread, his forearms on his knees.

He says, “I’m doing this instead.”

“What’s ‘this’?”

“Staying with you.”

My throat tightens. “But you’re angry.”

“You think that means I’m leaving?”

“You left earlier.”

“No, Rafael, you left. You got out of my car and told me it didn’t concern me.”

I don’t say anything. He’s right.

“You lied to me,” he says.

He’s right about that too. “I … This isn’t something I talk about.”

Dominic stares out across the dim, empty sex club for a moment, then he looks at me. He shifts on the couch to half face me. I see this from the corner of my eye because I can’t quite look at him. I’m not sure why. Maybe because I’m in the wrong and I don’t know what to do.

He says, “Someone other than me might get soft with you right now, but I’m not going to. You lied to me. You kept me out of something you shouldn’t have kept me out of. It’s not okay.”

I swallow hard. “I wanted that shit to stay separate from this.”

“Well, it’s not separate. Maybe you still don’t get this, Rafael, but you are mine. So this ? You and me? Nothing, nothing is separate from it.”

A breath catches. No one has ever claimed me like Dominic did today, like he’s doing right now. I’m always disposable. A pretty toy. Even the Collector didn’t keep me. When I turned thirteen, he said it was time to place me because I was getting too old.

As for Noah? He took me in because I kept running to him. I didn’t give him much choice.

None of that ever felt like someone choosing me.

I feel so fucking pathetic right now, so desperate and overwhelmed and close to crying, that instead of turning to Dominic, I get up.

I move fast, so I make it all the way to the bar before Dominic catches up with me. He grabs me around the middle. I expect him to slam me down on the bar, but he doesn’t. He keeps one arm hooked around my waist. His other arm wraps around me too, his hand sliding up my chest until his fingers curl lightly around my throat.

It’s so fucking possessive—and that’s before his teeth clamp on my trap.

I shudder. Because I’m shaken. Because I love how he touches me. Because I need him to prove what he said.

You are mine.

Dominic doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. He just holds onto me as my body reacts to him. He’s not touching my cock, but I’m sure he can tell I’m getting hard from the micro shudders wracking my body, from the quickening of my pulse and the shallowing of my breath. From the way I start pushing back against him.

He still doesn’t move as his cock stiffens against my ass. I want him to grind on me, but he doesn’t. I want him to bend me down against the bar and fuck me.

Prove it , I beg silently.

“ Please ,” I whisper.

Dominic’s fingers flex around my neck. “We’re going upstairs. But we’re going to set a ground rule first.”

“I don’t want rules. I fucking hate that.” When I try to twist in his hold, annoyed, he bites me, hard.

I cry out at the conflicting spikes of pain and arousal.

“It’s for you,” he growls in my ear, “not me. It’s just one rule, and it’s very simple, and it’s only for this session.”

Session .

He’s going to fuck me. Thank god.

“Agree to it,” he demands.

“What is it?”

“Agree to it, then I’ll tell you.”

He presses his lips behind my ear and settles in, waiting for my acceptance, for my submission. My body shivers and rocks with its need for him. There’s really no choice.

“Okay,” I say. “Yes. I agree.”

He lets out a pleased rumble behind my ear that sends a wave of arousal through me. Fuck, I need—

I sigh in relief when his hand slides down to grip my cock through my jeans.

“So what’s the— ahhhh, fuuuck .” My head falls back against his shoulder as his thumb rubs my cockhead through the heavy cloth.

“I’ll tell you in the elevator. Come on.”

When he pulls away, I make a sound of protest, then he takes my hand and leads me through the club to the elevator. Inside it, Dominic pulls me into him, front to front. His palms the back of my head, forcing my face against his neck.

“You’re not going to fight me, not this time. That’s the rule. You’re going to do what I say.”

He holds me against him. I’ve already agreed to it, but he wants my acknowledgement. I don’t understand why he’s setting this rule, but I have to accept it. I nod against him.

“Okay,” he says and reaches past me to hit the floor button. Then he kisses the side of my head.

It sends a stab of worry through me. “You’re not gonna be—”

“Soft with you? Hell no. You’re in a lot of fucking trouble, Angel.”

The name makes me shiver. With pleasure. With revulsion. It fucks me up so much that when the elevator stops and Dominic backs me into the room, I don’t know which room we’re in until the chandelier glows to life.

He’s brought me to the play room.

He walks me to the center of the room near the couch, turns me to face away from him, and says, “Undress. Don’t turn.”

The space is neutral. I don’t know what he intends.

My hands shake as I do what he says. I struggle with it. I want to turn around. I want to refuse. The urge to defy him is visceral.

I think this is my punishment, that I’ve been denied the right to fight him.

It takes me a while to get my clothes off. Dominic doesn’t rush me. He doesn’t do anything at all, not until I’ve bared myself completely. Then I hear a rustle of cloth. He leans past me and drapes his suitcoat over the arm of the couch. Then he withdraws. Then—

I suck in a breath at the sound of his belt hissing through his beltloops as he pulls it free.

“Bend over. Hands on the back of the couch.”

I close my eyes, choking down my need to fight him, to make him force me. I do what he says.

“Aaah!” I cry out as the belt cracks across my ass.

“Do you know what that was for?”

“Lying,” I gasp. Fuck, that hurt.

“No. It was for this.”

He holds his phone in front of my face, showing me a picture of myself, the picture that Moretti took.

“I don’t understand,” I tell him.

He draws back. There’s enough of a pause that I know what’s coming. My hands clench on the back of the couch. I brace.

“It was for endangering yourself.”

I’m ready for the flash of pain, so I don’t cry out this time as the belt cracks across my ass.

“And for accepting that he was going to kill you.”

“I didn’t—ow! Fuck!”

The belt snaps me across my ass three more times.

“I didn’t have a choice!” I shout when he finally relents. I’m hanging over the back of the couch now.

Dominic grabs my hair and hauls me up. “You had a choice,” he snarls. “And the choice you made was to keep shit from me.”

“I’m sorry,” I gasp.

He shoves me away. “That’s not what I want. Get up. Go to the x-beam.”

I can’t at first. I’m too confused. I’m too upset. I just hang onto the couch, shaking.

Dominic simply waits for me to comply and, eventually, I do.

He follows me across the room, so I still don’t see him, not until I turn to put my back to the cross, straddling the machine-powered dildo. I suck in a breath at the fury burning in his dark eyes. His sensual lips are compressed. His jaw is clenched so hard that a muscle feathers in his cheek.

“Spread,” is the only order I get.

I’m off balance. Subdued. I do what he says more easily this time.

Dominic crouches to bind my ankles to the cross, keeping my legs pulled apart. The restraints can be triggered with the remote or worked manually. He stands and reaches up to restrain my wrists high and apart on the cross.

This is where I usually self-fuck. The machine’s remote control is in a bracket by my right hand. Dominic takes it away and slides it into his pocket.

He’s still fully dressed in his slacks, white dress shirt, and torso-skimming vest. The sophisticated air of his clothes makes a sharp contrast to the hard ridge of his cock. Beneath his cultured exterior, he’s primal and rough and so fucking sexual.

I lost most of my erection during the whipping, more from the confusion than the pain. I didn’t understand his point. I still don’t. But the sight of his arousal has my cock thickening again.

Dominic unbuttons and rolls up his sleeves, but that’s as far as he goes to undress. I know what this is. It’s a torture scene. I’m bare and captive, vulnerable. He’s removed. In control.

He pumps some lube from the bottle on a nearby table. He approaches with it cupped in his hand. I start breathing harder as crouches before the machine waiting between my legs. He lubes the dildo.

“Oh, fuck,” I breathe as his fingers move to my hole. They spear into me, but it’s brisk, almost clinical. He’s getting me ready, nothing more.

He draws back and snags a folded cloth from the table, wiping the excess lube from his hands. Then he takes the remote from his pocket. He studies it for a minute, making me quiver with anticipation.

He hits a button, and the machine whirs. It’s so damn slow that I’m panting by the time the dildo nudges my hole, forcing me open.

“Oh my god,” I gasp as it slowly penetrates me.

I know exactly the length and girth of this dildo. I’ve had it in me so many times. But I have never, ever not been in control of it.

“Fuck!” I shout as it starts fucking me. It pistons in and out. It’s angled to hit my prostate, making my semi-hard cock stiffen until it’s fully erect.

Dominic stands back, watching. His dick is rock hard in his pants, but he doesn’t touch it. He just watches me writhe on the cross, pulling at the restraints as the dildo fucks me. My balls ache. My cock throbs. I’m leaking so much that I can feel it running down my cock and dripping to the floor.

The pace increases. The dildo fucks me harder. For some reason, I start sobbing. I know I’m going to come, but it doesn’t feel right. I don’t like it.

The thrusting stops. The dildo remains lodged in my ass, but it’s not moving anymore. The machine is silent. The only sounds come from me.

Dominic approaches slowly. He keeps the remote in one hand. His other cups my jaw. He leans close. I’m so fucking desperate for contact that I immediately press my face against his. He holds me there.

“What do you need?” he whispers.

“ You .”

“What do you choose?”

“You. Please . I don’t want this, I want you.”

He pulls back so I can look in his eyes. His anger is gone. His eyes are searching mine. He’s looking to see whether I understand.

I do. Finally, I do. He sees it in my eyes. He doesn’t make me explain. I can’t. Not right now.

He draws back, leaving me as I am while he undresses. I shudder as he bares his body a piece at a time, tormenting me with the sight while the dildo holds me open. I want it out. I want him instead.

When he’s fully undressed, his cock jutting out hard and ready to take the dildo’s place, he hits a button on the remote. I cry out as the dildo slides free.

Dominic puts the remote aside. He gets more lube and slicks his cock. I love watching him touch himself, how his hand glides along the stiff, thick shaft to the flared tip.

He steps close. He crouches and frees my ankles. As he straightens, his clean hand goes to the restraints on my wrists while his lubed hand goes to my cock. I moan as he strokes me. I feel split open. I have no defenses and no filter. I just let him see and hear how much I need him.

When I’m free, I fall into him. He tries to get me walking. I think he wants me to get in the bed, but I can’t make it. As I go down, he eases my fall. He gets me in position. He sets his cock to my hole and thrusts inside.

I make the dirtiest, most desperate sounds as he fucks me. I come so hard that I thrash and spasm as my cock spurts under me, untouched. I sob through the orgasm—and he keeps fucking me.

I moan and curse as my cock stiffens at the relentless pounding. I scream when I come again—and he still doesn’t quit.

I’m in another place entirely. I’m both inside and outside of myself.

He thrusts harder and faster into me. I don’t think I can come again, but when his hips snap forward, when he shouts and his cocks kicks hard inside me, filling me with his hot seed, something happens. My body tightens and convulses. My cock throbs. I strain and scream and unravel entirely.

As I gasp and shudder and sob, Dominic pets me. He holds me. He kisses me.

I want to stay with him, but I can’t. I’m falling away.

I’m gone.

***

I wake in the play room bed, entwined with Dominic. I’m warm. I’m clean. I’m quieter and more settled than I’ve felt in a long time.

Realizing I’m awake, Dominic starts stroking my hair. He whispers against me, “Don’t keep shit like this from me.”

I just lie there in the warmth of him, not ready to return to the world. Not ready to think.

His fingers tighten in my hair. “ Promise me .”

I tuck my face against his neck. “I promise.”

His grip eases. He strokes again.

“Sleep,” he says, and I do.