26.

TWENTY-SIX

Dominic

We’re in a strange sort of peace right now. Rafael is stuck here—because I won’t let him leave—and I’m not leaving until we have some indication of where all of this is going to go.

I worked from home today, which meant spending a lot of time on the phone with various project managers, and so did Rafael. His work was simpler and looked like a lot more fun because he was researching prospective future entertainers for Lush.

We haven’t had sex yet, partly because I know he was sore, partly because we both needed a break. But this whole day has been like one long foreplay.

I’ve never been much for touching people, but I have to touch him. Every time he walks by. Every time we take a work break.

He touches me too.

Neck.

Back.

Abdomen.

As the day has progressed, it’s gotten more sexual.

Hip.

Ass.

Cock.

Now, we’re in the kitchen making dinner. Rafael refused to cut up the chicken, so he’s chopping tomatoes and basil instead. I find it hilarious that he’s squeamish about the chicken when he has no trouble cutting up people.

When I pointed that out, he said it was different because he wasn’t planning on eating them. I don’t get the difference, but okay. I can cut up the chicken.

When I start sauteing it, Rafael comes to stand behind me. His thumbs skim along the waistband of my sweats, hooking inside above my cock.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

I’m surprised that it is. I would’ve thought it would bother me to have a man stand behind me like that, but it doesn’t. Not if that man is Rafael. I don’t even mind anymore when he grabs my ass. Actually, I like it.

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

He nuzzles the back of my neck. “I love how you smell.”

“You do?”

“Mm-hmm. I like how that smells too.”

He means the chicken. One of the small pieces is done, so I lift it out, let it cool down for a second, then I hold it over my shoulder. Rafael takes it from my fingers with his lips.

“Mmm,” he murmurs appreciatively as he chews.

I move the chicken around in the pan, turning a few pieces over. Rafael sighs and relaxes against me.

Fuck, I love this. I have never, ever in my entire life done anything like this. I’m sure it’s totally pathetic, but this may be the best day of my life.

I want this, always. Every fucking day.

“I love that you can cook,” Rafael says.

“I’m just sauteing chicken.”

“You made waffles too.”

“It’s not that hard, baby.”

The word just slips out. Probably because I’m so happy, so relaxed. Rafael’s breath catches. For a second, I’m afraid he’ll draw back, but then his arms tighten around me. His face presses against the back of my neck.

No one has ever held me like this.

No one has ever wanted me like this.

I think about what Rafael said yesterday, how he feels like he’s himself with me, his real self. I’ve been thinking a lot about that. That’s how I feel too. With him.

I know I’m violent. Brutal. Vicious.

But I’m also finding out how much I love taking care of Rafael, being … tender. He can handle the full scope of what I am.

“I have to check the pasta,” I tell him.

He grumbles and doesn’t move.

“Go finish your chopping.”

His hand slips into my sweats and cups my balls under my semi-hard cock. I grunt at the hot spill of arousal then glare at him for being such a tease when he mutters, “Fine,” and withdraws.

I take the chicken off the heat while I drain the pasta. I toss it with olive oil then add the chicken, tomatoes, and basil. I top it with Romano.

Rafael gets out the plates. I love that he’s getting to know my kitchen.

While we eat, Rafael’s enjoyment is a little over the top, so I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you making fun of me?”

“What? No. Why do you think that?”

“Because you eat at high-end restaurants and have very expensive meal delivery. I saw the boxes in your fridge. So you can’t possibly be impressed by this.”

“Well, I am. I don’t know how to cook much of anything.”

“Noah doesn’t cook?”

Rafael pulls a face. “It’s best if he doesn’t. All he really knows how to make is a horrible macaroni and cheese casserole with crumbled crackers on top.”

I chuckle. “Are you a fussy eater?”

“According to him, yes. According to me, no. I just like good food. Like this.”

After a minute, he says, “Noah raised me. After. If that’s what you were trying to ask.”

“Yeah, it kinda was.”

“He, um … well, my aunt was my legal guardian, but I kept running away to Noah. Eventually, he just let me stay with him. My parents were dead.”

“Yeah, I, uh, know about that. The gist.”

It’s hard that I want to know about Rafael, but every subject is so difficult. But we’re doing okay, I think. At least, he is. He’s trying. I haven’t been able to share much yet. Maybe in time.

My chest tightens at the thought of time with Rafael. A chance. A … future? I’ve never really thought about the future before. I’ve only followed the path set for me. Serving my father, then taking his place.

But this is what I want. More days like this.

After dinner, we move to the couch and scroll through the streaming options. I vote for an action flick, but Rafael makes such a fuss about it that we end up watching the comedy he picked.

He lies down with his head in my lap again. I don’t catch much of the movie because I’m too distracted my him. His smile. His laugh.

I don’t really like pitch blackness, even when I’m watching a movie, so I have some soft, low lights on. I’m glad, because it means I can see him.

I can’t help looking at him every few seconds. I can’t help touching him. His hair, his throat, his nipples. I can’t help getting hard.

Partway through the movie, he stops laughing. His eyes half close.

Then he rolls over to face me and grabs the waistband of my sweats. He pulls it down, exposing the length of my hard cock, and takes me into his mouth.

“ Fuuuuck ,” I breathe, shifting, widening my stance. I strain upward, pressing into his throat. His hand slides between my legs. His fingers tease my balls.

I throw my head back. I fumble for the remote and turn the TV off. I don’t want to hear the movie; I want to hear Rafael sucking me.

The suckling sound has me punching into the back of his throat. He chokes.

“That’s it,” I murmur, looking down and putting a hand on the back of his head, shoving him onto me. “Choke on my cock.”

His mouth vibrates around my dick as he moans. He shifts, angling to get me down his throat like he wants to swallow me whole.

“Oh, yeah,” I breathe, straining, chasing every sensation.

It’s bliss, but I want to see him. I want to touch more of him.

“Get up. I need to fuck you.”

Rafael draws back to the head of my cock, teasing it with his tongue, lapping at my slit. I cup his cheek.

“You like my cock in your mouth?”

He grabs my dick to hold me against his face after releasing me from his mouth. A heavy pulse of arousal moves through me at the sight of my dick against his chin. Tears have spilled down his cheeks from me choking him. His lips are swollen.

“I love it.” His tongue darts out and licks my cock, making me hiss.

“Take your clothes off. I need to see what’s mine.”

I take over with my cock, stroking lightly as he draws back and strips off his t-shirt. He shucks off his pants so fast I don’t get a good look before he’s scrambling back to me, tugging at my shirt.

“I want to see you too.”

I let go of my cock and lean forward so he can pull off my shirt. He attacks me immediately, biting at my chest.

“Fuck,” I gasp, arching as he teases my nipples. His hand is around my cock.

I knot my fingers in his hair and pull him back. “That’s enough. Get the lube. It’s in the drawer.”

He crawls over my lap to reach the end table. It puts his ass in a perfect spot, and I instantly take advantage of that and start exploring the curves of muscle. The stripes from my belt have faded a lot, and his hole is more than ready to take my cock again.

The drawer slides, then Rafael holds the lube over his shoulder. I take it and squeeze a generous amount along his crack and onto my fingers. He makes a little sound of impatience as I take my time, but I don’t care. I want to savor this.

He settles as my fingers massage his hole, then moans when I push inside.

I like having him positioned like this, in a sort of tabletop over me. I have easy access to his ass and his cock, one hand spearing into him, the other wrapping around his hard, hot dick. He rests his forehead against the arm of the couch as he gives himself over to me.

I’ve fucked him so many times, given him pleasure, made him come. But there’s something different about this. It’s slow and surprisingly indulgent for me. I really let myself learn his body, the stiff length of his cock, the way it strains up against his lean belly and I have to pull it down to stroke it. The way his balls hang so heavy at the base of it, the little sounds he makes when I tug them.

“I want to put the stretcher on you again,” I tell him, my voice husky. “I loved how these looked with all that weight on them. You got so swollen.”

He mumbles a vague acquiescence then makes a sound of pleasure as my fingers curl inside him, grazing his prostate. Even though my untouched cock is aching, I love that I’m doing this instead of fucking him right now. I’ll get to that, but I want to experience this first, how his body tightens when I graze his prostate, how his ass clenches on my fingers and his cock twitches in my hand. He’s leaking all over me, and I love it.

After a while though, I need inside him, and he needs me there. I withdraw my fingers from his ass and let go of his dick. I use the excess lube on my fingers to slick my cock, though I’ve already leaked so much precum that it’s hardly necessary.

I can tell Rafael expects me to wrestle him around and shove into him from behind, but he’s going to have to work a little harder than that tonight.

“Straddle me,” I tell him as I shove down my pants and kick them off. “Get on my cock.”

Planting his feet on either side of me on the couch, he lifts over me. I hold my cock for him and watch him sink down on it. The sight is incredibly erotic, but I wish there were a mirror behind him so I could see my dick disappearing into his ass.

“The play room needs more mirrors,” I tell him. “I need to see every angle of you when I’m fucking you.”

“You like watching me?” he asks as he starts to lift and plunge on my dick.

“You know I do.”

I shift on the couch so I can lean back a little. It changes the angle, makes it easier for him to move, makes it easier for me to watch.

“That’s it,” I murmur. “Fuck yourself on me.

He leans back a little, clamping his hands on my thighs. I can see my cock now, hard and glistening, as he fucks himself on it, but my eyes don’t stay there. There’s too much I want to see. His face with his lips parted and his eyes half closed. His abs with the muscles contracted as he works. His cock as it leaks. Precum runs down the thick, veiny length, dripping over his swollen balls. They’re drawn up tight. They must ache.

I keep losing the sight because my eyes keep trying to roll back in my head. Fuck, this feels good. I don’t want it to end, but Rafael is started to get distressed. He’s hovering the edge, has been for a while.

I want him to learn to come on me in this position, but he’s not there. That’s okay. We’ll work on it. For now, I’ll take over.

He makes a sound of relief when I sit up and start maneuvering him onto his back on the wide leather footstool. My cock pops free in the repositioning. I get his legs up and shove back into him.

“ Yesssss ,” he breathes then moans as I start fucking him. With every thrust, his cock shifts against his abdomen, leaking. The second I fist his cock and rub my thumb against his tip, he comes.

I pound into him through his orgasm, taking in every sight and sensation as his ass clenches on my dick, as he strains and shouts, as cum leaps in creamy ropes from his cock to land on his chest and neck.

It’s too much, watching that, feeling him. I wanted to make him come again, but my body takes over. I rut him hard for a few more strokes before my balls seize and pulse. I cry out as my cock pumps out my release, filling him with my cum.

I pull out, watching some of it leak from him. I grab a towel from the end table and clean him up enough that he’ll be comfortable.

Then I throw a blanket on the couch and get him settled there with me. I turn the movie back on, this time keeping the volume low. We don’t get dressed and we never stop touching. It’s not long before we’re both hard again.

I make him get on his knees on the couch, facing the back of it. I shove inside him. My cock works noisily in his cum-filled ass. I lose myself in the sloppy plunge and the slap of flesh and the way he moans.

I hold back my orgasm with an effort, but the second he seizes on me, I let go and pump another load into him. When I pull out, I pull him into my lap and let him leak there. It’s so beautifully dirty.

I breed him twice more before I decide he needs to go to bed. It’s still early for him, but something about the sex is starting to upset him. It’s subtle. He’s trying to hide it, but I can tell.

We’re in the bathroom brushing our teeth when the tears start spilling down his cheeks. I don’t think he expects them because he looks startled and tries to wipe them away like maybe I won’t notice, like I’m not watching him like a hawk.

He bends down to spit out his toothpaste and rinse his mouth. When he straightens, he ties to leave, but I grab the back of his neck. He needs to wait for me. He yields and stands there while I finish up, but he won’t meet my eyes in the mirror.

I take him to bed.

“Fuck me,” he says as soon as we lie down.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

He huffs in frustration and rolls over, pressing his ass against my semi-hard cock. I ignore my arousal and tug him against me. Tremors are shivering through his body. I rub my thumb along his collarbone.

“Tell me.”

A puff of air escapes him. I think he’s trying to talk to me but doesn’t know where to start.

I ask, “Is it because we had … sweeter sex than usual?”

He makes a small sound of distress that tells me I’ve guessed right, but it also doesn’t really tell me anything.

“You didn’t like it?” I ask.

“I …” He trails off and stays silent for a while. I just wait, and he finally says, “I do better with rough.”

“I like that too. But we don’t always have to be that way. I enjoyed making love to you tonight.”

Somehow, the fact that he’s having trouble with this makes it easier for me to talk about it. I don’t know if I could, otherwise.

Rafael tries to be quiet, but I can feel some strong emotion shake through his body. When the worst of it passes, I ask, “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why does it hurt you?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe you. Answer me, baby.”

“Don’t call me that right now.”

“I’ll call you what I want. Now answer me. Why did it hurt you for me to make love to you tonight?”

“Because …” He trails off again, but I feel like he’s trying, so I let him take his time. Then he says, “I like for sex to take me out of myself, not into myself.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t want to explain it. I don’t want to talk about this!”

Rafael tries to get away from me. He tries really hard. He twists and writhes in my hold and does his best to elbow me like there’s some chance he’s escaping this bed.

“Let go!”

“No.”

He headbutts me so hard that light flashes through my vision. Pain explodes across my forehead. It loosens my grip just long enough for him to get a foot on the floor.

Furious, I scramble after him. I grab him around the waist and haul him back. I wrestle him down until he’s pinned under me. We’re front to front, my hard cock against his, my hands around his neck. In the glow of the nightlight, I see his face contorted with fury. I’m sure mine looks the same.

I take my hands off his throat. I plant them on either side of his head. I don’t want to hurt him right now.

Rafael snarls, “Noah tried to make me talk to someone. She was the first person I killed. You want to keep trying?”

“Yes, I want to keep trying. If you want to try to kill me, go right ahead.”

He grabs for something on the nightstand. I think I’m about to get hit with the lamp or something, but he’s grabbed the lube. I knock it out of his hand. We’re not fucking right now.

“Now tell why it upset you for me to make love to you.”

Tears spill from Rafael’s eyes. I gently wipe them away, but more follow. I slide my arms under him and roll us onto our sides. Rafael turns in my arms. I don’t like it, but I can tell he needs to face away from me, so I let him. I tug him into me again, putting us back how we started.

This time, though, he’s willing to talk to me.

“It wasn’t you,” he whispers.

“I know.”

“It just … took me back. To how I was with him. How he taught me to act. The things he would say. The things he would make me say. How it made me think they were true when they weren’t.”

Ice moves through my blood. I knew, of course, that this was about something dark, but I didn’t expect it to be so specific.

At first I think he must mean someone from the Island, but all of those men came and went. Rafael said this man taught him.

I think about how he was at the Island, such a perfect little plaything. How all the men loved the way he acted.

Acted .

How he’d been taught to act .

Before the Island.

He’s talking about the Collector.

Fuck.

I thought this man simply represented something for Rafael, but that’s not it. Not at all. This man groomed Rafael. This man did things that I can’t let myself think about.

But the worst thing he did maybe was make Rafael think it was love. Because that’s what this is really about.

That’s why Rafael is devasted by me making love to him. No—he’s devasted that he let himself receive it.

Most people wouldn’t be able to parse all that out from the little that Rafael actually said, but I can.

I start shaking. I doubt Rafael can feel it because he’s shaking too.

I feel sick. I feel angry. I want to scream. I want to hit something. But I murmur, “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I understand.”

When that only makes Rafael start crying, I order more firmly, “Come here. Please.”

He turns in my arms and buries his face against me.

I hate how he’s been hurt, how things have been twisted for him. I know I’ve been hurt too, but I can’t quite think about that, not directly. I’ve shoved it down too far.

But this …

It makes me want to burn the world.

Instead, I hold onto him to try to show him what I don’t think he would be able to hear right now.

I love you.

***

I’m still awake when my phone buzzes. I slowly extricate myself from Rafael, not wanting to wake him. I snag my phone from the beside table.

Unknown: 2M, green only.

My hand clenches so hard on my phone that I crack the protective case.

The message will have shown as read to the sender, so I’m not surprised when several additional messages come in. I’m given a location and am told to meet an assistant there at 5 a.m. to pay. From there, I’ll get a new location to meet and discuss the details of my order.

It’s 1 a.m. The point is clearly to make me panic. To make me scramble.

Unknown: Confirm in 30 seconds or you’ll be moved to the waitlist.

I glance at Rafael.

So beautiful.

So fucking broken.

And this man is responsible.

I don’t want Rafael anywhere near him, not until he’s secure. I’m going to do this myself. For him.

I type, Confirm.