3. Atticus
Chapter 3
Atticus
" Y ou're awfully quiet tonight, Reid." Ezra leans against the kitchen counter, a smug grin plastered across his face. His eyes flicker with mischief as he runs a hand through his dark, tousled hair. "Is it because of Lemon? You didn’t fucking tell me how goddamn sweet she was. Fucking more curves than cavatappi."
"Ezra," I say, my voice low and controlled, "stop your childish antics."
He’s needling me and I know it’s fucking irrational to get angry about the way he’s talking. He’s only giving voice to the things already swirling around in my head, but I didn’t give him permission to. She’s mine to talk about, just like he is.
"Childish?" He laughs, the sound annoying me. "Come on, you can't tell me you haven't noticed how her hips sway when she walks, or the way she bites her lip when she's nervous. The way her breasts strain against that t-shirt. It's fucking delicious."
"Enough."
"Or what?" His tone is mocking, daring. "You'll lose control, Mr. Perfect?"
My hand clenches around the edge of the marble island. The cool surface under my palm does nothing to quell the heat rising in my chest. Ezra’s pushing boundaries, testing limits, and it's working.
Damn him.
"Don't push me, Ezra," I warn, though my voice sounds more like a growl.
"Why not?" He steps closer, his breath warm against my ear. "We both know you like it when I do."
"Testing my patience won’t end well for you," I snap, grabbing his arm roughly. The kitchen's bright lights cast shadows across his smirking face.
"Promises, promises," he taunts again, but there's a hint of anticipation in his eyes.
"Upstairs. Now."
I drag him toward the staircase, each step echoing in the silence of my penthouse. The shift is palpable as we ascend, the playful banter left behind in the kitchen. My grip on his neck tightens, guiding him with purpose. The tension between us is thick, and I can’t wait to make him beg.
"Can't wait to see what you have planned," Ezra murmurs, his voice dripping with lust.
"Shut up," I hiss, yanking him into the monochromatic sanctuary of my bedroom. I nudge the door behind me to shut it, and the atmosphere shifts from teasing to something far more intense, more primal.
Ezra’s bravado falters just slightly, enough for me to notice. He loves the game, the chase, but here, in this space, the rules are mine.
"Strip," I command, my voice cold and unyielding .
"Yes, Sir," he replies, the mockery replaced by an eager compliance that sends a ripple down my spine.
The room is silent except for the rustle of fabric and our heavy breathing. Ezra’s eyes are locked onto mine, defiance and submission swirling together. This is our dance, our battle for control, and I intend to win.
Ezra stands in the center of the room, his tank top already discarded, revealing the inked lines tracing his bicep. The room is stark—a place of control and discipline, devoid of color or chaos. It mirrors my soul. The anticipation in the air is almost suffocating, every breath heavy with my need to have him. He slips out of his pants and he’s stark naked before me.
His tanned skin beckons, but it’s his hard cock already leaking that has me licking my own lips.
"On your knees," I command, my voice low but ironclad.
He doesn’t reply verbally, but drops instantly. His compliance sends a jolt through me. This is where we belong—me commanding, him yielding. My fingers tangle in his messy hair, forcing his head back so those mischievous brown eyes meet mine.
"You're such a fucking tease, playboy," I growl, tightening my grip.
"Only for you," he breathes, the hint of defiance still glinting in his eyes. I like him like this, though. We don’t label what we are or what we have, but I’m under no illusion. He is mine and only mine.
I grab the restraints from the drawer beside the bed—black leather cuffs, cold metal buckles. Ezra's eyes widen slightly, but he doesn't protest as I fasten them around his wrists. The click of the buckles snaps into place, echoing in the silent room.
"Too tight?" I ask, not really caring about the answer .
"Just right," he murmurs, a shiver running through him.
"Good." I reach for the gag, a sleek piece of silicone that fits snugly over his lips. He opens his mouth willingly, the shape of it muffling any further smart-ass comments.
"Better," I mutter, stepping back to admire my handiwork. Ezra, restrained and gagged, looks up at me with anticipation and surrender. My pulse quickens, thumping through my veins, and I can feel it deep in my cock.
"Now, let's see how much you can take tonight since you wanted to run your mouth," I say, wondering if I can take all my frustrations out on him.
I push him onto the bed, the black sheets crumpling beneath him. He stretches out, muscles tense, eyes locked onto mine. There's no hesitation as I undo my belt, the sound of the leather sliding through the loops sharp in the quiet room.
"Ready?" I ask, though it's more of an assertion than a question.
He nods, his breathing shallow and rapid behind the gag.
"Good boy." I climb onto the bed, straddling him, pinning him down. My hand trails down his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my fingers. His skin is warm, almost burning under my touch.
"Do you know why you're here?" I whisper, leaning down so our faces are inches apart.
"Mm-mm," he hums through the gag, shaking his head slightly.
"Because you can't resist pushing my buttons," I say, my voice filled with annoyance and arousal. "And now you’re going to pay for it."
My hand moves lower, fingers grazing over his waist before dipping into the cut lines on his hips. His pretty little cum gutters. They lead me right to his cock, leaking, hard, and eager. I wrap my hand around it, squeezing just enough to make him gasp.
"Look at you," I taunt, stroking him slowly. "So desperate, so needy."
"Mm-hmm," he groans, his hips bucking involuntarily.
"Ah, ah, ah," I chide, pressing him back against the mattress. "You're not in control here, remember?"
"Mm," he whimpers, eyes rolling back slightly as I increase the pressure.
"That's right," I murmur, leaning down to bite his neck, leaving a mark. "You belong to me, playboy."
"Mm!" he cries out, the sound muffled but unmistakably filled with pleasure.
"Enjoying yourself?" I ask, though I don't wait for an answer. I release his cock, reaching for the lube on the nightstand. A generous amount coats my fingers, slick and cold against my skin.
"Relax," I order, slipping between his cheeks and pressing a finger inside him. He tenses, then relaxes, a soft moan escaping his gagged mouth.
"Good," I praise, adding another finger, stretching him. "You're doing so well."
"Mm," he groans, eyes fluttering shut.
"Not yet," I say, withdrawing my fingers. "We're just getting started."
I don’t bother undressing and instead pull my silk sleep pants down until my own hard cock springs free and I let the material rest right below my balls.
I position myself between his legs, gripping my shaft and lining up with his pretty little asshole. His eyes snap open, wide and pleading .
"Ready?" I ask again, a smirk playing on my lips.
"Mm-hmm," he nods frantically.
"Good." I thrust into him, hard and deep, eliciting a muffled cry of both pain and pleasure. I give him no time to adjust, setting a punishing pace, each movement deliberate and controlled.
"Fuck," I grunt, feeling him clench around me. "You feel so good."
He whimpers, drool slipping out past the gag in his mouth as his body writhes beneath me, bound and helpless.
"Take it," I growl, pounding into him. "Take everything I give you. You want to fucking tease me? Then you’re going to take everything I give you and then you’ll ask for more. Won’t you, pet?"
"Mm!" He arches off the bed, his body trembling with each thrust. The room fills with the sounds of our bodies slapping together, his muffled moans, my grunts of exertion.
"You're mine," I hiss, gripping his hip with bruising force. "Say it."
"Mm-mm!" he cries, eyes squeezed shut, tears forming at the corners.
"Say it!" I demand, slamming into him harder.
"Mm!" he sobs, finally nodding, accepting his fate.
"That's right," I growl, reaching down to stroke his cock in time with my thrusts as my balls slap against his lower back. "Come for me, Ezra. Show me who you belong to."
"Mm, mm, mm!" he chants, his body tensing, then convulsing as he finds his release. The sight, the sound, the feel of him coming undone beneath me pushes me over the edge. I spill into him with a guttural roar, claiming him completely.
"Fuck," I pant, collapsing beside him. For a moment, the room is filled with nothing but our ragged breaths and the scent of sex.
"You did so good for me," I murmur again, reaching up to remove the gag. His lips are swollen, his face flushed, but there's a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
"Thank you, Sir," he whispers, his voice hoarse but content.
"Don't thank me yet," I reply, a wicked grin spreading across my face. "This was just the beginning of your payback."
Lying on the bed, catching our breath, I run my hand through Ezra's dark, tousled hair, feeling the damp strands starting to curl beneath my fingers. His warm eyes, still glazed with pleasure, lock onto mine as he rests his head on my chest.
"You know," he begins, voice rough from the gag and from crying out, "we can’t ignore how hard it's going to be around Lemon."
I stiffen slightly but mask it with a casual stretch. "What do you mean?" I ask, even though I know exactly where this is headed.
He grins mischievously, tracing idle patterns on my chest with his fingertips. "Oh, come on, Atticus. You saw her tonight. You felt her eyes on us in the kitchen." His grin widens into a devilish smirk. "She wants you, me, us. I bet her pretty little pussy was gushing for it."
A low growl escapes my throat before I can stop it. "You're treading dangerous waters. Did you not learn your lesson just a few minutes ago?"
"Am I?" he challenges, arching an eyebrow. "Or are we all just circling them already? She's a bombshell, and you know it. She’s unlike anyone we’ve had before. Sweet and a little bit sour, just like her namesake. A body built to handle the both of us. Can’t you just picture her done up in leather straps and buckles as you take your pleasure out on both of us? I know I can."
I lean back against the plush pillows and let out a sigh. My fingers twitch against Ezra's shoulder as I consider his words. He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow to watch me closely.
"Look," I start slowly, but then stop.
“She blushes every time you look at her. It's adorable. She’s innocent in all the ways that make you want to ruin her. Admit it."
"How about I ruin you again?" I ask, raising an eyebrow, my voice a husky growl. “Be a good little sub and jerk my cock until I get hard again.”
"You know, I love it when you talk dirty to me," he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. "Makes me want to be your perfect little slut."
He shifts, his lean body pressing against mine as he trails kisses down my chest, his warm breath causing goosebumps to prickle across my skin. His lips find their way to my navel, then lower still, until he's settled between my legs. I can feel the ghost of his fingers teasing along my inner thighs, the anticipation coiling tighter in my gut.
His hand wraps around my softening cock, and he begins to stroke slowly, deliberately. The feel of his firm grip, coupled with the warmth of his palm, sends a shiver racing up my spine. I let out a low groan, leaning back into the pillows and closing my eyes. Ezra's thumb swipes across the sensitive head, smearing the remnants of our combined release and drawing another guttural sound from deep within me.
"That's it," I murmur, voice rough with lingering desire. "Don't stop. "
With each slow glide of his hand, he brings me back to life, coaxing every inch of hardness from me. My cock twitches in response, the blood rushing back as need surges through me once more.
Ezra's other hand gently cups my balls, rolling them tenderly as he continues to work my length with practiced ease. Each movement is precise yet filled with an underlying urgency that mirrors my own growing arousal. The room fills with the slick sounds of his hand pumping me and our mingled breaths growing heavier by the second.
"Hands and knees. Now," I command.
Ezra complies, dropping my cock and immediately spinning around to present his ass to me, arching his back provocatively. My eyes roam over his body, drinking in the sight of him so willingly submissive.
"Pretty little slut," I murmur, getting up on my knees behind him. I grab his hips, hard enough to leave marks and dig my blunt nails into the skin. "You want to put on a show? Let's give you an imaginary girl sitting over in the corner to watch you."
"Yes, god yes," he breathes, his voice tight with need.
I drive into him again without warning, savoring the gasp it pulls from him. "Louder," I demand, thrusting deeper. "Let her hear you."
"Fuck!" he cries out, the sound raw and desperate.
"That's it," I growl, setting a relentless pace. "Let her know exactly what she's missing by being all the way over on the other side of the room."
The door creaks slightly, and I risk a glance. There she is. Her eyes peeking through the crack. Her breath hitches, and I can see the fear and curiosity playing across her face .
"See something you like, lemon drop?" I taunt, loud enough for her to hear.
Her eyes widen further, but she doesn't move.
Good girl.
"Eyes up, playboy," I growl at Ezra, yanking his head back by his hair. His lips part in a silent cry, his body arching beautifully beneath me.
"Say my name," I order, my voice rough with possession.
"Atticus!" he moans, the sound guttural and broken.
"Again," I hiss, feeling the power thrumming through me, knowing Lemon is hanging on every word, every motion.
"Atticus, please!" he begs, tears glistening in his eyes.
"That's right," I grunt, hooking my fingers into his mouth and forcing his head to look toward the cracked door. He gasps around them, his eyes wide, almost pleading. But I know he loves it. Loves the way I control him, dominate him. "You belong to me."
"Yours," he gasps, trembling as he reaches the edge.
"Come for me," I demand, pushing him over the edge with a final, brutal thrust.
Ezra shatters, his release violent and intense as he still stares at Lemon, unable to look away.
Panting, I lean down, my lips brushing his ear. "Who's in control?"
"You are," he whispers, voice shaking but sure.
"Don't forget it," I mutter, leaning back, catching Lemon's gaze once more. I pull out of Ezra’s tight little ass, fisting my cock and stroking it a few times before I cum and splash his back and ass cheeks with my hot release. Her face is flushed, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she watches.
"Run along now, lemon drop," I say softly, but firm. "Curiosity killed the pussy."
She hesitates, then bolts. The door shutting behind her.
"That was cruel," Ezra murmurs, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
"Necessary," I correct, running a hand through my sweat-dampened hair. "And deeply satisfying."
"Agreed," he laughs softly, collapsing onto the bed.