44. Akira

CHAPTER 44

Akira

D eacon's arm jostled against Akira's thigh, and he looked down in surprise to find the submissive jerking himself off with a tight, eager fist.

Hmm. Perhaps not so obedient after all.

In an effort to save his newest trainee, Akira added a second finger to the one he was stroking inside of Kyle, working them further up into Kyle's passage and pressing insistently against his prostate. It bought Deacon nearly half a minute of Sir's distraction, but the fool was still going at it by the time the blonde had reopened his eyes.

He deserved everything he was going to get.

Kyle flashed the top of Deacon's head an amused look before reaching down to wrench him to his feet.

"When I ordered you not to touch yourself," he said to the submissive, his voice low and dangerous, "did you think I was merely making a suggestion? What part of ‘get your hand off your dick' did you consider optional ?"

Deacon pulled a fantastically forlorn puppy-dog look in response, drooping from where Kyle held him by the back of the neck. The two men were nearly the same size, but their body language made it clear who held the power over whom.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"It's fine," Kyle said with unexpected generosity, and there was a sweetness to his voice and smile that had Akira's suspicions flaring. "Pet, how about you teach our trainee how satisfying you can be?"

Ah. Sir was in a cruel mood tonight.

Kyle reached down for Deacon's cock, ignoring his panicked wince, and held it out for Akira to take between his lips. The submissive's distinctive salty musk enveloped his senses, and Akira obligingly worked him over while Kyle fixed up his own clothes as if done with the both of them.

He wasn't done. Not at all.

Deacon groaned and then grinned, gaining confidence with each dip of Akira's head and swirl of his tongue. "Was this meant to be a punishment, Sir?"

"Was it?" asked Kyle, with an air of surprised innocence that Akira didn't buy for one second. He leant back against the front desk, crossing his arms. "Whatever would I be punishing you for?"

"For..." The sub faltered. "For nothing, Sir, of course."

Kyle beamed at him. "Of course. Then enjoy yourself, won't you? You deserve this."

Akira was concentrating hard, focusing on the cadence of Deacon's breathing and the hitches in it as he was brought closer to pleasure. Noting the slight movements of his body. The tension in his muscles. Timing was everything, and he couldn't afford to miss when he'd brought the man to the point of no return.

There.

Akira abruptly pulled his mouth and hands away, relishing each second of stunned silence that followed. The more time that passed after letting go, the better this would be.

The submissive tried to use his own hands to finish himself but Akira, expecting the desperate act, had already grabbed hold of his wrists. Unsatisfied and untouched, yet unable to stop what Akira had triggered, Deacon's cock began to dribble cum – not shooting it out as usual, but in a frustrating little drizzle that made the sub howl out his complaint and rock his hips uselessly against the air.

Akira's second favourite thing about ruining a man's orgasm was that it left him fully erect and often hornier than before.

His absolute favourite was watching their face as they suffered.

Deacon, never disappointing him, began to dejectedly sob. "What was that ?"

"Your first lesson of the night," said Akira, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and palming his own aching dick. Fuck, that had made him hard. "Never get on Kyle's bad side."

Deacon stared back at them both, looking adorably confused and disappointed.

"Off with you," ordered Kyle, his harsh tone making Akira shiver and then preen. Kyle didn't usually take pleasure in stealing someone else's: Deacon's torment had been for Akira's enjoyment alone. "Next time, do as you're told."

"Yes, Sirs," Deacon mumbled miserably, collecting his clothes and heading up to the showers with his shoulders slumped. Akira let out a shaky breath.

"You," Kyle said to him next. "On your feet. Don't think I didn't notice you trying to protect him."

Unlike their trainee, Akira knew better than to deny his wrongdoing. But it seemed his punishment was to be denied another taste of Sir's delectable cock, and that was far, far worse.

He bowed his head.

"Do I need to remind you who you belong to?" Kyle's voice was soft now but still forceful, wrapping around him and demanding attention. And Akira would willingly give it.

"No," he assured him. "But also yes."

Because he'd take the reminder, as unnecessary as it was, to have Kyle press up close and run his hands possessively over him as if to brand every inch of his skin.

And that was what he did, leaving Akira feeling seen and wanted. Then Kyle reached for his chin, intently tugging it back up and bringing their lips together.

He tasted like…mint?

"You fucking-" Akira tried to growl out but Kyle laughed against his mouth, licking at the crease of his lips and thrusting his tongue inside.

And the stolen mint.

They fought for a moment, battling for dominance with their tongues in one of the hottest kisses Akira had ever had, fierce and furious and perfect. Akira had almost managed to return the mint to Kyle when the man used his superior strength to angle Akira's head for better access, forcing the small object to the back of his mouth.

"Now you're an accessory," Kyle breathed when he finally released him and pulled away. "You try to fire me, boss, and I'll take you down with me."

Maybe it was the result of how turned on he was, but being taken down by Kyle sounded very good in that moment.

Holding his eye, Akira bit down on the mint, chewed, and swallowed.

Kyle, laughing wickedly, dragged him upstairs and into his room with a finger crooked through one of his belt loops. Akira fumbled to shut the door behind them.

While he didn't mind playing with others – and apparently especially liked being made to play with others – right now he wanted Kyle all to himself with no more interruptions.

"You're not actually going to resign from the Coterie, are you?" Kyle asked him. "It was just a threat?"

Akira hummed, tracing the man's jaw with his lips in a light caress that teased them both. "Was it?"

"I love watching you threaten people, Master." Blue eyes reflected the warm glow of the bedside lamp, alight and amused. "It's incredibly hot."

Akira's loud and unexpected laugh – a chortle, in all honesty – likely undid all of the fearsome reputation he'd built for himself in the other man's eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," Kyle breathed, his expression aggressively hungry. He undid Akira's fly and tugged his dick out before doing the same to himself. "Watching you put them in their place, be it street thug, House Master, or baby submissive who thinks he can play by his own rules, only makes me want to put you in yours ."

A pulse of arousal rocketed through Akira when the other man grabbed a tube of lubricant from the bedside table. Flicking it open with his thumb, he poured a generous amount onto Akira's outstretched palm, and then his own, before reaching around to work his finger determinedly between Akira's exposed ass cheeks.

Akira hissed at the burn and wrapped his hand around both of their cocks, enjoying how they fattened under his touch.

"Anytime you like," he panted, already lost to the heavenly sensation of Kyle's silky skin sliding against his own, and the insistent pressure forcing its way past his entrance.

"You and that sharp tongue of yours are capable of leaving everyone in trembling pieces," Kyle added, sounding amused. Akira thought back to the recklessly harsh comments he'd made to the rest of the Coterie, and how most of the Masters would already be plotting ways to see him punished for it. "But if I told you to be quiet, you would, wouldn't you, pet?"

"Yes," agreed Akira, hoping Kyle would do exactly that. Being on speech restrictions could be as thrilling as being physically restrained. That sensation of power flowing from him to Sir, to be wielded at Sir's will and leaving Akira delightfully at his mercy…

"And if I told you to pleasure yourself," Kyle asked, "would you do that too?"

Akira's hand sped up and they both groaned.

"Yes, Sir," he whispered. "Here, Sir?"

Kyle's lips quirked.

"No. Somewhere more public. Central Square, perhaps," he added, referencing the largest public space on Xerxes: a wide square that was virtually the same on each level of the city including the surface. Surrounded by flat, tall buildings that reached up to each ceiling, it was used to celebrate New Year and other major events. "I have you on your knees in the middle of the square. Blindfolded and naked. And my hands are pressed over your ears, pet."

Akira trembled around the finger that had begun to stroke his inner walls with a patient insistence.

"You can't see anything, or hear anything but me," murmured Kyle, building the fantasy up word by indulgent word. "You'll just have to take my word for it when I say we're alone. Faster."

Akira obliged, his hand moving by muscle memory and instinct as it worked its way up and down their dicks.

"You're doing as I tell you. You're getting yourself off where any random stranger can see you, all because I told you to. Such a good slut."

The words drew a long, heated moan from Akira's mouth and he let his forehead come to rest on his Dominant's shoulder, wrapping his other arm around him to keep them pressed close.

"I lift my hand so you can hear me," Kyle murmured, moving his lips to Akira's ear to whisper into it in the same way he was describing. "Someone's coming, I tell you, and you have no way of knowing if it's the truth or not. Do you want them to see you like this, sweetheart, depraved and shameless, hand wrapped tightly around that poor cock of yours and not stopping even when they draw close?" He paused. "Do you want them to watch you?"

Akira whimpered, lost to sensation and need, and not knowing if the noise was one of agreement or denial. Did it even matter? Sir was in charge, and if he wanted others to watch, then that's what would happen. Akira would be sure to put on the best damn show of his life to please his Dom and make him proud of him, to earn the praise that fell so graciously from Kyle's mouth and see the warm smile that-

A light tug of pain on the upstroke dragged Akira's eyes open.

They landed on the clock on the bedside table, and the time it displayed on its runed surface served as an unwelcome prompt that this encounter couldn't end how he wanted it to.

By the stars, it was later than he'd realised. If he didn't leave soon, he'd be late.

Akira grimaced, adjusting his grip to prioritise Kyle's pleasure over his. Their cocks still rubbed together but he gave Kyle the benefit of the slicker parts of his hand, ran his thumb over the other man's sensitive slit rather than his own. Even then, it took every ounce of the self-control he'd perfected over the years not to let loose the ferocity that raged beneath his skin, wild and burning.

"Akira," Kyle hissed into his neck, picking up on the changed way he was working their dicks. "Behave. Come with me."

He clutched tighter at him as though he intended to physically drag Akira to climax along with him, rubbing up against his prostate in urgent, ruthless demand.

But even if he'd sensed what he was up to, like he'd somehow known Akira couldn't afford to let himself finish, Kyle would never win. Akira had one card to play that would assure his own victory, and while it might have been a dirty, underhanded trick if it wasn't true, what did the honesty make it into?

Akira opened his mouth.

"I love you," he said.

Kyle gasped, blue eyes snapping to his as he spilled over Akira's hand, and for one beautiful, everlasting moment, they pierced Akira's soul. The same soul he'd just laid bare with a confession nearly five years old and as much a part of him as the fine suits he wore and the marks tattooed onto his wrist and heart.

Who was Akira Miyasaki?

Master of House Epsilon.

Ruthless, manipulative bastard.

Hopelessly and happily in love with Kyle Randall.