Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
NORTH CAROLINA
B ryson’s fingers curled into something soft. Fur. A thick, luxurious blanket. For a minute, he stayed in his dream-soaked haze, but another presence forced him back to consciousness. Reality and dream blurred as he saw Seth sitting in a chair opposite him, watching.
Bryson inhaled sharply, pushing himself upright. His muscles ached, the deep-set exhaustion making him slow.
His mind struggled to place the moment. The room was familiar—the same place Adria had punished him in last night.
At least…he thought it was last night. Bryson wasn’t sure.
How long had he been out?
He tried to recall getting into bed. Tried to piece together how he had gotten here.
But when he shifted, his confusion deepened. He was fully clothed, shoes even.
His brow furrowed.
The lights were on now, illuminating the space in harsh, sterile clarity. The room looked different in the light.
More calculated .
The black-painted walls gleamed under the dim glow. And lining them, were instruments.
Tools.
Bryson had heard of a red room before.
But a black room—a place designed for control, for breaking—that was something you could only find at a Federov’s place.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Bryson said, deciding on humor.
Seth frowned. “He jokes.”
“I fucked up, Seth. I’m sorry.”
Seth stood up from his chair and walked around, surveying the room. Giving Bryson a clear view of the fresh stitches on the back of Seth’s head. Bryson didn’t think anything could be more painful than the previous night, but seeing the fresh wound on Seth’s head made his chest ache.
How could he have been so careless? It had taken over a year to convince Seth to leave his abusive home. Seth had begged his mother to come with him, but she wouldn’t leave her abuser. Every day, Seth worried about her.
And all three of them could only watch and wait for the inevitable news.
He wasn’t sensitive to violence, but to see the only family he had left fighting. It was obviously triggering.
Seth ran his hands across some of the floggers, fingers running along the leather. His hands gripped the handle of the paddle, and Bryson’s dick jumped.
“She hasn’t brought me into this room,” Seth said.
Was that disappointment in his voice?
Bryson winced as he tried to sit up. His entire body was beyond sore. “It’s not as fun as it looks.”
“I could handle it.” Seth’s voice was firm.
Bryson met his eyes and held the contact. “Of course you could. ”
“You say that, and for some reason, I still get the kid gloves.”
“No, you don?—”
“Yes, I do. You think Kaydon can handle more than me.”
Bryson shook his head. “Kaydon is…”
“Stronger?”
“Bigger,” Bryson countered.
“Adria says size doesn’t matter.”
“What does that bitch know?”
A loud crash came from the wall behind him, and Bryson realized Seth had thrown the paddle at him. Narrowly missing his face, it clattered into the back wall.
“Did you finally get your turn to be her whore last night?” Seth asked, tears in his eyes.
Bryson hated himself. Hated that he hurt him.
Seth grabbed another paddle from the wall.
“Stop.”
Seth threw it. Ready this time, Bryson caught it easily.
“Seth, stop it.” He put more edge to his voice, and Seth wavered.
“Or what? Are you going to hit me like Kaydon?”
Bryson’s monitor vibrated.
Just a few more minutes.
“Hitting Kaydon was a mistake,” he said.
“Right, a mistake you will never make again, and you’re sorry.”
He went to throw another object, but Bryson slapped it out of the way. Ignoring the pain in his back and ass, he moved swiftly towards Seth. Adria or Eric would be there at any moment, and he needed to get this taken care of.
Seth fought him, screaming, and Bryson wrestled him down until he was completely wrapped up in his arms and legs.
“Let go of me,” Seth yelled, squirming in his grip. “Fuck you! ”
Bryson let him scream. He was half expecting Adria to come flying through the door, certain Seth’s wrist band was vibrating as well. But no one came. And eventually, arms wrapped firmly around him, Bryson felt Seth’s body soften.
“You’re right. I treat you differently than Kaydon,” Bryson said in the small space of silence. “But not for the reason you think.”
Seth fought in his arms, but stayed quiet.
“I treat you differently because you are different people. But I’m not a mind reader. If you want a change, you have to ask for it.”
Seth released a breath, saying, “I don’t know if I do. I just never felt like it was even an option.”
Bryson loosened his grip, and Seth stopped fighting.
“I’m eating more here.”
“I noticed.”
Bryson shifted Seth in his arm to get a better view of his face. His blue eyes still wary, and tears clung to his long eyelashes.
“She’s not what you think she is,” Seth said.
Why did Adria have to ruin every moment?
“Yeah, what do you think she is?” Bryson asked.
“She gets us.”
Gets me. Bryson could hear it in his voice. Saw it in his face, in his eyes. Those pale blues held all the words Seth wasn’t willing to say.
Bryson looked away, not wanting Seth to see the hurt on his face. “That’s her job, Killer. It’s what she does for a living.”
Seth shook his head. “It’s more than that. She had us. Right under the chopping block. Separated, fighting, she could have easily taken our legs out from under us, but she didn’t.”
Your father did.
He didn’t need to say it. Adria had played her cards well. She was pretending she was everything his father wasn’t. She saw to their needs, observed their weaknesses, and helped them overcome them, but that didn’t make her any better than his father. It didn’t make her safe. A monster good at hiding was still a monster.
Running his hand through Seth’s hair, he said, “I’m glad you’re eating more.”
He nipped at Seth’s ear, and when he made eye contact with him, there was a hunger within them.
“Get on the bed, Killer.”
Seth’s eyes smoldered as he considered. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, Bryson pulled him in close and growled in his ear, “If you’re worried about Miss Priss, I think if you’re real good for me, she’ll punish you later.”
Bryson licked the edge of Seth’s ear and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be punished?”
Seth moved towards the bed, and Bryson spoke up. “Crawl.”
Seth hesitated, but then dropped to all fours. Bryson degraded Kaydon from time to time, but he hadn’t tried it with Seth.
As Seth moved towards the bed, Bryson pushed his foot into Seth’s groin. Even through his boot, Bryson could feel Seth’s arousal. “Such a greedy little slut, aren’t you?”
When he didn’t answer, Bryson stepped on Seth’s shoulder, and Seth crumpled under the force. Bryson was ready, moving swiftly to push his boot into the side of his face.
Seth scrambled, hands grabbing at the shoes’ edges. “I asked you a question, slut. I expect a response.”
Seth stilled.
“I am a greedy little slut,” he said, face smashed into the carpet .
His white face blushing a delightful shade of pink as he said it.
“You’ve been hiding things from me, Killer, and that won’t do.”
Bryson’s boot pressed harder into the side of Seth’s face.
A reminder.
Then, just as suddenly, Bryson released him. Scrambling on all fours, panting, Seth crawled onto the bed.
Not fast enough.
Bryson grabbed his ankles, yanking him backward.
Seth fell, face-first into the plush comforter, a muffled sound escaping his lips.
Bryson didn’t let up. He pinned Seth’s legs at the edge of the mattress, gripping both wrists and pulling them behind his back.
Seth’s body went taut.
Trapped.
Helpless.
A whimper slipped from him, smothered against the blankets.
Their alert bracelets continued to vibrate.
But it seemed the cavalry wasn’t coming.
Bryson didn’t understand why. But, he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass.
“I think you deserve to be punished,” Bryson said.
Seth’s breath hitched.
“SAY IT!” Bryson’s voice crashed through the room, raw and commanding.
Seth flinched.
His voice was barely audible, muffled into the mattress.
“I…I need to be punished.”
Not good enough.
Bryson leaned down, his body molding against Seth’s, chest pressing into his back, his lips right at his neck .
His erection pushed against Seth’s ass, heat radiating between them. His voice was a low growl.
“Louder.”
Seth shuddered. “I need to be punished,” he said, voice clear now, desperate.
The words echoed through the room.
His body burned, a pink flush deepening into crimson. Bryson’s teeth sank into the soft skin of his neck.
Seth tensed under the pressure, a choking sound catching in his throat.
Bryson bit harder, and Seth kicked beneath him.
Until a cry ripped from Seth’s lips.
Then Bryson pulled back, satisfaction curling through him as he admired the deep red mark blooming on Seth’s skin.
A claim.
“Whose are you?” Bryson murmured, tongue licking over the wound.
There was no hesitation.
Seth breathed the answer like a confession. “Yours.”
A pulse of warmth spread through Bryson’s chest.
Damn. That felt good.
Seth would wear that for weeks.
Removing Seth’s pants, Bryson trailed his free hand over the curve of his ass, his fingers lingering, appreciating the way Seth’s body reacted.
He was already waiting for him.
Already ready.
“Do not move.”
Bryson’s voice was sharp, and Seth’s body stilled at the command.
Barely breathing.
Bryson let him go and perused the room, looking at it fully for the first time. Adria had an impressive collection.
In the far-left corner, was a tall, skinny fridge. Opening it, there was a large assortment of drinks, candy, and in the door panel, a collection of irritants. Scanning the items, Bryson settled on some fermented ginger. After selecting a few more implements from the wall, Bryson was ready to play.
Seth had not moved. His hands were still obediently clasped behind his back, his knees on the floor, ass in the air.
Bryson fastened the leather cuffs around Seth’s wrists, tight, securing them firmly behind his back.
Next, he reached for the spreader bar.
One click.
Two.
Three.
Seth’s legs stretching apart, forced to accommodate the widening steel. His body tensing at the intrusion, his thighs straining as the position arched his back and lifted his delicious little ass higher.
Bryson dragged his palm down the curve of Seth’s ass, feeling the heat of his skin.
Crack.
A hard slap, palm stinging against Seth’s tender flesh.
Another. A matching red handprint bloomed across his cheeks.
Bryson spread him open. Licked his ring finger and pressed in.
Seth’s channel contracted around the intrusion, a tight, instinctual reaction. As much as Bryson enjoyed bringing Seth pleasure, this wasn’t just about that.
It was about giving Seth exactly what he was asking for.
Bryson leaned in, voice a dark purr. “This isn’t big,” he murmured, pressing a little deeper. “And it’s already a little slippery. I think my needy little slut can take it without lube.”
Seth nodded blindly into the mattress .
Bryson removed his fingers and reached for the ginger.
Meticulously carved, it was tapered just right.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
He pressed the root inside.
“This is ginger,” he said, tracing his fingers along the curve of Seth’s ass, lingering, reveling in the way his body twitched beneath him.
“In a few minutes,” he murmured, dragging his palm over Seth’s skin. “You’ll feel what it does.”
He swung his hand back.
The first smack landing hard, the crack echoing through the room.
Then another.
And another.
There were no warm-ups.
No teasing taps.
Just solid, unforgiving strikes that sent fire radiating up Bryson’s arm and left Seth’s flesh searing in his palm.
Loud, rhythmic thuds filled the space, each one punctuated by the sharp rise and fall of Seth’s breath.
Bryson leaned over him, voice dark, edged with something dangerous. “Bad boys don’t get a warm-up, do they?”
Seth’s body shuddered beneath him.
Bryson smirked.
If Seth responded, Bryson didn’t hear it, not over the sharp, unrelenting thwacks cracking through the room.
The rhythmic snap of flesh meeting flesh echoed, filling the space with a merciless tempo.
Thirty seconds in, and Seth was already whimpering beneath him.
Every strike sent a ripple through Bryson’s body. And every tense movement from Seth was milking the fiery ginger burning inside him .
Bryson watched as Seth’s ass turned a deep pink, flushed from the relentless assault.
Seth shifted, his legs twitching, moving clumsily—a silent plea.
Not a chance.
Bryson pressed his boot onto the spreader bar, pinning him in place. Seth moaned into the mattress.
Bryson chuckled, voice low and cruel. “Your pitiful little sounds aren’t going to save you.”
Then, another onslaught.
Another thirty seconds of blistering, punishing smacks, his palm coming down hard and unrelenting.
Seth sobbed.
His body shook.
His ass was scorched. Inside and out.
Bryson kept his foot firm on the bar, ensuring there was no escape.
Pressing Seth’s head deep into the mattress, Bryson restricted his airflow. Holding him there. Seth’s small frame tensed, his body shuddering beneath him.
Bryson waited.
Savoring the moment.
The silence.
Then, his voice came, slow and dangerous.
“The next thing I hear from you—” A slight increase in pressure. “Better be how sorry you are for keeping your thoughts from me.”
Bryson held him there a moment longer, letting the message sink in.
Seth’s muffled, desperate breath scraped against the sheets.
Grabbing him by his hair, Bryson pulled him up. Seth gasped. “I’m sorry, I should have told you.”
Bryson pushed his face back into the mattress, watching his arms flex behind his back. He was completely helpless. After his night with Adria, Bryson didn’t think he would ever be aroused again, but feeling Seth beneath him, he realized how ridiculous that thought was.
When he released him again, Seth sputtered, “I’m sorry, Bry—Sir. It burns so much, please.”
Bryson gave him another hard smack across the ass and grabbed a hold of Seth’s bound arms. “Get up.”
Pulling on him, Seth hinged from the bed and was left kneeling. His face red and blotchy. Bryson sat on the bed in front of him.
“You better clench those ass muscles, because if that ginger falls out, I’ll start over with something far worse.”
The fear that crossed Seth’s face shot blood right to Bryson’s dick.
“You’re sorry?”
Seth nodded
Bryson unbuttoned his pants. “Show me.”
Seth dove into him, knocking him back. Hot, wet lips engulfing him, and Bryson nearly came at Seth’s eagerness. Seth sucked Bryson deep within his throat, his face still wet with tears, his red ass clenching, trying desperately to keep the ginger in there. The spanking bench was positioned just over his shoulder.
The bench that, a few hours ago, Bryson had been strapped to. The pain from the belt still radiating into him.
Bryson closed his eyes. His hands gripping the surrounding blanket. He was going to come just thinking about it.
The witch might have been right, maybe he did like pain. But there was no denying that he liked this, too.
Loved it.
Grabbing the back of Seth’s head, Bryson stood.
Seth’s mouth stretched to accommodate the change in position, the wet heat of his tongue pressing against him. Bryson held him steady, fingers gripping hard into his skin.
Fucking his mouth relentlessly. Bryson wasn’t sure who he was reminding, Seth or himself.
His rhythm was brutal.
Punishing.
Seth choked, the vibrations sending a wicked shockwave through Bryson’s body. Tears spilled from Seth’s blue eyes, glassy and dazed, staring up at him.
Bryson growled, his body trembling, pleasure twisting so tight it was painful.
A sharp, blinding snap of release and Bryson’s muscles locked. A raw, guttural sound tore from his throat as hot cum spilled down Seth’s throat.
Seth swallowed, taking all of him, breath ragged as Bryson finally let go.
Fuck .
His grip loosened, and Bryson staggered back, his heart pounding.
Seth had a dazed look in his eyes, and Bryson laid him down on the mattress. Releasing his ankles, he removed the ginger root, pushing him further onto the bed.
He knelt down between Seth’s legs and said, “Look at me.”
Seth’s eyes were barely in focus, but he lifted his chin to make eye contact.
“I’m sorry,” Bryson said, with Seth’s eyes on him, “I shouldn’t have shut you or Kaydon out.”
Bryson moved his tongue along Seth’s tender tip, before expertly sucking and running his mouth along the length of him. Moving the shaft along the roof of his mouth, Bryson swallowed Seth’s cock into the back of his throat.
Bryson didn’t suck dick often, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t .
Didn’t mean he wasn’t fucking good at it.
His tongue worked in slow, devilish strokes, teasing, coaxing, pushing Seth closer to the edge.
A few more passes, deliberately wicked, deliberately cruel. He pulled away, his lips swollen, his breath hot against Seth’s skin.
Seth’s head lulled back, eyes rolling white, body shaking beneath him.
“That’s my good boy,” Bryson murmured, voice smooth, laced with satisfaction.
His hand ran along Seth’s trembling thigh. “Come for me, Killer.”
He took Seth back into his mouth, and that was it.
A few desperate thrusts and Seth was moaning, body twitching, and unraveling beneath him. Bryson swallowed him down, taking everything. Seth shuddered, wrecked and spent, drenched in sweat.
Bryson crawled up the bed, gripping Seth’s boneless, blissed-out form and pulled him in close.
Their bodies fit together perfectly, heat radiating between them. Bryson’s thumb brushed over Seth’s cheek, wiping away the last remnants of wetness.
“I’m sorry, Killer.” His voice was raw, honest. “I didn’t tell you or Kaydon how I was feeling. I was trying to do everything by myself.”
He tightened his grip, grounding himself in Seth’s warmth. “I forgot that we’re a team.”
Seth made a sleepy, content sound, his head lolling slightly to the side.
Completely spent.
Bryson exhaled, letting the tension drain from his body. He pressed his face into the back of Seth’s damp neck, breathing him in. For the second time in twenty-four hours, sleep claimed him.
And, for the first time in a long fucking while, it didn’t feel like he was alone.