87. Ryan Fairview
‘Play Massive Attack, Paradise Circus (Zeds Dead Remix)’ YouTube version
“ G inger snap?”
My heart was pounding in my chest when I heard Cal enter our bedroom. I was leaning against the tub, suddenly feeling like this was the stupidest idea I’d ever had, when he popped his head in.
I watched his giant smile slip off his face as his brown eyes darted around the bathroom, taking in the set I had created for us.
His gaze fell to the surgical table, then the speaker, then darted back up to my face.
“What the fuck is all this?” he growled, taking an angry step forward. I watched his pupils blow, and his skin turned to gooseflesh before my very eyes. I swallowed.
All the hair on the back of my neck stood at attention, and a wave of fear shot through me. My baser instincts told me that the man standing before me was no longer the Cal I knew but something darker. More dangerous.
My cock throbbed in response to the fear coursing through my body, and I let out a shaky breath, doing my best to remember that this wouldn’t work if I folded the second he showed signs of distress. I needed to be strong. Firm.
“I want you to fuck me in the tub,” I said calmly. “And I want you to choose a dubstep playlist to put on while we…play.”
Cal’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his fists clenched at his sides. I had never seen him so tense. His gaze kept darting to the tub, the table, and back to me again.
“Ryan. We talked about this.” His voice was rough and strained. I couldn’t tell if he was angry, afraid, or turned on. Maybe all of the above.
“This is something I want to do,” I replied, and he snarled. Literally snarled like a rabid animal.
I blinked, and he was in front of me, his hand curled in the front of my T-shirt.
“You want me to fucking hurt you? Ryan, you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing. This isn’t a fucking game.”
He was shaking. Again, I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or fear, but I couldn’t back down now.
“I know it’s not a game, angel. Play was a poor choice of words. But yes. I want you to hurt me. I want you to do whatever you need to do to me to reclaim the pieces of yourself that he stole from you.”
I reached up and cupped his face, meeting his dark eyes. “Next time you look at this tub, I don’t want you to think of Damian and what he did to you. I want you to think of me and how you felt taking control of me.”
I slipped my hand around him and slid his phone out of his back pocket, holding it up between us. “Next time you listen to your music, I don’t want you to think of him; I want you to think of me. I want to create new memories. Better memories. Of us, together. ”
He growled and released my shirt, jerking away.
I reached for the speaker and paired it to his phone, handing the phone back to him. He hesitated, but I knew I was getting through to him.
His gaze fell down to the table again, and he tugged at his lip ring with his teeth as he cataloged all the things I set up for him. I didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on the scalpels, and my dick throbbed in anticipation.
“What if I can’t stop?” he whispered, snapping his eyes back to meet mine. “What if I black out?” He reached out and brushed his fingers against my throat instead of taking the phone. “What if I take it too far?”
“You won’t, Callum,” I said, my voice just as quiet as his. “You’re not him. You love me, and I love you. Let me do this for you.”
He stared at me for a long, heavy moment before snatching the phone out of my hands.
“Your safe word is red. Say it,” he growled, and I nodded, doing my best not to react to the thrill of exhilaration that coursed through me.
“My safe word is red,” I agreed, and he nodded tersely.
Cal put on a song that was much slower and different from what I was used to him playing, but soon, the quavering bass that was a staple in the dubstep genre began, and his already blown pupils grew even wider.
He literally shuddered before me, and I watched as the last part of his humanity melted away, and I was looking into the eyes of the monster that Damian had created.
“Strip,” Cal ordered.
There wasn’t any warmth in his tone, and the comforting brown of his irises had been completely overtaken by the endless black of his pupils.
My hands shook as I rushed to do what he said. He stood completely still as he watched me get undressed. It was almost eerie as if he were a predator waiting for the perfect moment to descend on his prey.
When I was out of my clothes and standing completely nude before him, he nodded.
“Get in the tub, Mr. Fairview.”
I frowned. He had never called me that before, and I didn’t like it. It felt foreign and detached. Like I wasn’t a person to him anymore.
“Do I need to repeat myself?” he growled, and I forced down my discomfort. I had asked for this, and I wasn’t going to back out now.
Ignoring the slight tremble in my legs, I climbed into the tub and leaned back against the side with no faucet.
Cal approached the tub, and he loomed over me for a moment, his dark eyes sliding down my naked, prone body.
He licked his lips, then snatched up the scalpel he had been eyeing.
He perched on the edge of the tub, still staring at me with those terrifyingly dead eyes. The quavering bass of the dubstep rolled around us, and he slowly peeled the plastic off the instrument.
Cal twisted slightly so he could allow his eyes to wander over my body again, and they fell on my dick, which was embarrassingly soft.
“Why aren’t you hard?” he asked, glancing up at me again. “I expect you to stay hard for me for the duration of this process, Mr. Fairview.”
Despite my absolute hatred for the way he kept calling me by my last name, the dominance in his tone had my cock immediately thickening in response to his order. He watched my dick grow hard, and I expected a smirk or a smile, but he gave me nothing.
“Good” was all he said, spinning the scalpel between his fingers.
“Give me your arm.”
Glancing at the scalpel nervously, I swallowed but complied. I put my hand in his lap, and he wrapped his fingers around my wrist, firmly pulling my arm straight across his knee.
He gently stroked the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of my bicep, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he did so.
His touch made me squirm slightly. It was sensitive and ticklish when he stroked it with the pads of his fingers. My cock throbbed as he teased the area, and I let out a shuddering breath.
“I’m going to cut you, and you will thank me while I do it. Is that understood?” he asked, tightening his grip on my wrist and forcing my arm straighter.
“Yes, angel.”
His eyes darted to meet mine, and his eyebrows rose in surprise. His monster flickered out of focus, and for a split second, my Cal was back. It was only for a moment, then the darkness swallowed him whole.
“You will call me master while you are in this tub, Mr. Fairview.”
I frowned but forced myself to nod. This was about him and his needs. If he needed me to call him master to reclaim this moment, I would do it.
“Yes, master.”
“Good boy.”
He returned his attention to my arm and positioned the tip of the scalpel against the inside of my bicep.
The first slice sent a confusing mix of pain and ecstasy shooting through my body. My cock surged between my legs, but I was unable to stop the whimper of pain that escaped my lips as hot blood spilled down my arm.
I expected him to pause at the sound, but he just continued to cut me. I writhed in the tub, caught up in a complicated mix of feelings and emotions.
“What do we say, Mr. Fairview?” Cal asked, his tone dry and bored as he carved another line into my flesh.
“Thank you!” I whimpered, fisting my free hand at my side against the pain.
“Thank you, what?” he drawled, slicing another deep line into my skin. My crimson blood was bright against the flesh of my arm but seemed to disappear as it slid down the black basin of the tub.
“Thank you, master!” I sobbed.
“Good boy,” he murmured. I flinched and waited for another cut, but he seemed to be finished. He was staring at my eviscerated flesh with that dead, blank look on his face, and I wished so badly I could hear what he was thinking.
I peeked at the ruined flesh of my arm, and my eyes widened. He hadn’t been just carving random slices into me.
He had carved his name.
A crude and bloody ‘Callum’ had been cut into the flesh of my arm, and my cock throbbed between my legs at the sight of it.
Why was that so fucking hot?
“Thank you, master,” I whispered again, this time meaning it. Something about having his name permanently carved on my body felt so bone-achingly right I couldn’t put it into words.
He looked up from his bloody masterpiece, and again, the darkness in his eyes seemed to flicker in and out of focus for a moment.
He lifted my wrist and leaned down over my arm. I gasped as he ran his hot tongue over the raw cuts, lapping up my blood like it was some sort of sweet, liquid dessert. He closed his eyes and shuddered as he laved his tongue over my wounds before dropping bloody kisses up and down my arm.
“Mmmm. You taste so good. Look at all this gorgeous blood,” he purred. I whimpered, and he leaned back, dropping the scalpel back on the table.
He stood up and looked down at me, cocking his head to the side. I felt exposed, lying in the tub naked and bleeding before him while he was still fully clothed.
His gaze fell on my hard, throbbing dick, and he reached for it, wrapping his hand around my thick shaft. I groaned as he leisurely pumped it a few times.
“You like it when I hurt you, don’t you?”
I whined as he ran his thumb over my crown, and he growled.
“Tell me that you like it, Mr. Fairview.”
“I do. I like it. Hurt me, Cal, please .”
His eyes flashed, and I realized my mistake. I had forgotten to call him master and used his name.
He released my cock and wrapped his hand around my throat instead, squeezing hard enough that it hurt.
“Try that again.”
“I’m sorry. Master. Please. Hurt me,” I begged, and he glowered at me, his eyes so dark and cold that I shuddered.
It was like looking into the eyes of a stranger. He was so detached and angry that I wondered if my plan was actually hurting him more than helping him.
“You will need to be punished for that, Mr. Fairview,” he growled before releasing my throat. Without another word, he snatched up one of the pairs of handcuffs I had left for him on the table.