Chapter 34
It’s Wednesday, three days since Finn entered my life again—and my bed.
He’s been here every night, and while we haven’t spoken about keeping this from anyone, we also haven’t said anything.
It’s nice keeping this quiet; we’ve talked about so much of our lives.
Telling him about my past has been uplifting.
I feel so much lighter, more carefree, something I’m not used to feeling.
I’ve changed since saying goodbye to Rafe, officially leaving my past behind with Pilkington, and looking at a new future is exciting.
“Why haven’t you got any tattoos?” Finn asks. We’re stretched out on my sofa, both bare chested and only wearing sweatpants, mine grey and Finn’s black. My back is to his chest, and his fingers are trailing up and down my arm, tracing patterns that aren’t there.
“It wasn’t a good idea, too recognisable, memorable. I had to be able to blend in; most people won’t recall seeing me if I just look ‘normal’. If I had a distinctive tattoo, I’d be remembered, picked out in a crowd.”
“I can’t believe you were a spy,” he chuckles and places a kiss just blow my ear, and I shiver at the tender touch. Of course, he notices and chuckles, his warm breath brushing over skin. “I love how you react to me,” he murmurs and kisses me again.
“Spy makes it sound much more exciting than it was. I was used for a lot of surveillance work; I speak a few languages that are useful now. Lots of sitting around, listening.”
“Wow. Does your family know?” It’s my turn to chuckle at his reaction. I twist around so I’m facing him, hooking my leg over his hip. He smiles and grabs my arse.
“Not as much as you do.” It’s true. I’ve never wanted to make them worry more than they do already. “I trust you with more than my body,” I tell him truthfully. His eyes darken as his lips part.
“Thank you,” he whispers, then leans in to claim my mouth. As his hands tangle in my hair, tugging me in closer, I grind my hips into his. Our cocks plump up and harden, and even though we’ve fucked already this evening, I know I want him again. “How sore are you?”
“I’m good to go; a little pain can make it more intense.” I smile and hook my fingers into my waistband to push my sweats down.
“I’m really looking forward to investigating your pain levels. If we were at my place, I could get some of my toys out. Especially my clamps and floggers.”
“Fuck! Why aren’t we there?” I laugh but continue to kick out of my trousers.
“Tomorrow,” he promises. “For now, it will have to be my hand. Kneel on the floor and lean over the seat.”
He’s smacked my arse a few times but not as a specific act, more when he’s been in me. We’ve been at it like rabbits since Sunday. “Yes, sir.”
I get into position while he walks into the bedroom—I’m guessing for the lube. When he walks back into the room, I’m as he told me to be, my knees parted and my arse up, ready and willing. “Damn, you look good like that.” He drops something on the floor in front of my knees.
He strokes his hands over both globes, kissing each cheek before parting them. I feel his lips on my hole, just as he places another soft kiss and licks over the puckered skin. “Fuck,” I mumble under my breath. He’s going to be the death of me.
“Twelve on each cheek, and I want you to count,” he says as he straightens up.
I turn my face to the side to answer. “Yes, Sir.”
I always love the anticipation before the first strike, finding it highly erotic, the intake of breath, the smooth hand caressing my skin has me holding my breath, eager and waiting.
However much you prepare, the first one always comes as a surprise. It’s hard and rings out in the quiet room, breaking the silence, ready for more of my cries. “One,” I say as he strokes his hand over the centre of my left cheek.
There’s no pattern, no set pace, but he’s really good at it, and my skin is singing—I expect it is reddening— and the nerve endings pulse. I’m panting hard when I cry out twenty, and Finn pauses, not for the first time, to check in.
“You good? Colour?”
“I’m good and green.” I smile at him, even though I know my face is red, my hair sticking to my forehead with sweat.
“Good boy, you look beautiful with my handprints all over your arse. Four more.”
I wait for them, but instead, a lube coated finger probes my hole.
I don’t hold back my groan as he taps my prostate once, then withdraws.
The last four are fast and the hardest; the final crack of his hand on my skin brings tears to my eyes, but the bliss that runs through my body makes it worth it.
Finn wastes no time coating his cock and pushing inside me. His earlier load still present eases him smoothly to the hilt. “You can come whenever you want,” he says, sounding like he’s gritting his teeth.
I know it won’t take me long, and as I lift up onto my hands, I can see it was a towel he dropped on the floor.
Finn’s hands grip the battered skin as he plunges deeper and deeper, his breathing already heavy.
It’s going to be a race to finish, but I’m sure it will be me first. I’ve learnt that he wants to see me come before he does.
I grab my dick, the head slick with my precum aiding the glide of my fist as I stroke.
“I’m there, babe. So close,” Finn says. I work harder, and a second later, I’m crying out, my cum shooting down onto the towel.
Then the heat of Finn’s cum floods my insides as he grunts and thrusts the last few pulses inside me.
With his hands on my waist, he pulls me back so he’s sitting on the floor.
His softening cock slides out, leaving me empty and wanting more again.
I twist to face him, straddling his legs.
“That was incredible. How sore is your hand?” I lift his right hand and turn it to see his palm, still bright red, but not too bad. “You’ll have to use a paddle next time.” I press a kiss in the centre.
“Noted,” he laughs and kisses me. “Can I stay?”
“Of course. I’m up early tomorrow; Knox wants me to call in at the gym. So, as long as you don’t mind that.”
“Works for me. I’ve got a meeting with Memphis at nine.”
“Shower?”
The gym is empty, quiet in a way I’m not used to.
The room smells of cleaning products, the floors are clean and swept, the mirrors smudge free, the paper towel dispensers full as are the spray bottles of disinfectant for members to wipe down the machines after use.
The weight section is tidy, with everything in the right place.
I forget how much work goes into the running of this place, especially when the doors open in fifteen minutes at six-thirty.
I remember when Knox first came here after he’d been placed with our dads.
He looked around in wonder. It was like he was meant to be here.
I don’t know what it was; I’ve never thought to ask before now.
His arrival was a difficult one for him.
Us, too, but mainly him. It wasn’t long after I moved in, but the circumstances were very different.
I remember being afraid of him for a while.
Now, I know he’s one of the best men out there.
Knox pokes his head out of his office door when I shout out his name. “Don’t you ever have a bed to stay in, bro?” I call out when I see him.
“Not one that pays me to be in it,” he quips quickly. I know Dad pays him very well to run this place and trusts him completely.
“What did you want to see me about? It sounded kinda urgent,” I ask as I follow him back to his office.
He paces around the room, running his hands over his buzz cut head. “I’m not sure if I should be doing this or even if you can, just that something came up, and I need to get some more background or information before I can make a decision.”
I look him up and down and notice that my seemingly unflappable brother is bothered by whatever this is. “Are you in trouble?” Is my first question. He shakes his head, and a little relief run through me. “Is it about money?”
“No,” he says. “Shut up and listen. I’ll tell you, but nothing can be said to the parentals. Not one word. And the brothers. In fact, it’s fine; it doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything.”
“Okay, calm the fuck down. Something obviously matters, and really… When in the fifteen years we’ve been brothers, have you ever heard me gossip?”
That does actually manage to calm him down a bit, and he almost smiles. “I’d like you to run a check on someone. Is that something you can do?”
I hold back my smile; he’s not going to appreciate that, not in this stressed-out state. “Yes, I can do that. What do you want to know?”
He stops behind his desk but doesn’t make any move to sit in his chair. “Everything, everything that has happened in this person’s life—especially in the last fifteen years.”
I did not expect that. Knox is a very private person.
He’s a Dom, but very casually. He pops in and out of the scene, enjoying what he does when he does, but then can be away from it for up to six months.
He hasn’t shown an interest in anyone specific that I’m aware of.
A couple of scenes with Roe, some with Roe and Jackson. But that’s it. “Okay, what’s the name.”
“Maddox Levin.” His answer surprises me.
I look at him, not sure where that name came from.
But it’s a well-known name within the gym and body-building world.
Maddox Levin is the European MMA champion.
He’s hot as fuck, and very, as in extremely, private.
He only ever talks about his fights, his training, and his plans for future fights.
I doubt if I’ll get much intel on him. “Okay…” I trail away, not knowing if I should ask him anything more.
Fuck it, I’m interested. “Um, can I ask why? What exactly am I looking for?”
He shrugs, noncommittally. “Call it curiosity.”
“Fair enough. When do you want by?”
“Whenever you can.” He’s really a closed book over this, but I’m good at reading people. Then, as if a switch has flicked, he smiles like he’s chill. “So, is it true about you and Finn?”
“Is what true?” I’m going to kill fucking Royal.
“That you have the hots for each other but are both being pig headed and ignoring it.” He crosses his arms over his chest, looking just as fit and strong as the man he wants me to look up. More questions and thoughts run through my mind, but I hold them back.
“Royal should spend his time keeping his boy happy, not messing with my life,” I grumble.
“This is Royal you’re talking about, and he’s as nosy and persistent as Pops. So good luck stopping him from meddling.”
“Yeah, thanks for that. I’ll see what I can find out for you.”