Chapter 6 #2
Zander had changed. Grown. Learned from his mistakes in ways that mattered. He valued true partnership over convenient control.
And soon, they’d take the next step together — all three of them, to build on a foundation of trust and choice that would make whatever came next real in all the ways that mattered.
Zander watched Emmy leave for the gym, her movements eons stronger than they’d been a week earlier. She was improving by leaps and bounds, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d put more weight on.
And what he wanted would take more than good nutrition and physical recovery. He wanted her to be his, which would also mean he’d be hers.
And in his mind, that would happen when Emmy dropped her shields and let him in, but he’d never ask it of her.
She’d have to decide to do it herself, and he would have to build up the trust so she felt comfortable doing so.
The first step would be her wanting him to set up a telepathic connection. A truly intimate connection — a pathway between minds.
Emmy’s mother was the best person on the planet at creating shields. Her early life had necessitated it for her own survival, and she’d taught shield-building to her children. Dragon shields are formidable to start with, but Emmy’s were far beyond that.
And Zander couldn’t ask her to lower them.
It had to be her choice. Her idea. She needed to come to him and offer that vulnerability, not have him manipulate or cajole her into it.
Everything they’d talked about this morning — the lessons from Kirsten, the reason he’d freed Spencer in the manner he did — it all came down to this: real relationships required real choice.
So he’d wait. However long it took.
He heard Spencer moving around in the bedroom, tidying even though the cleaning staff would be through later. It was how Spencer processed things — organizing his environment when his thoughts needed sorting.
Zander moved to the doorway and leaned against the frame, watching his partner smooth already-smooth sheets with careful precision.
“You’re anxious,” Zander observed.
Spencer’s hands stilled. “I suppose I am.”
Zander crossed to him, turning Spencer to face him. “Talk to me. What’s going through your head about tonight?”
Spencer’s throat worked. “I want this. God, I want this. Both of you. Together.”
“But?”
Spencer shook his head. “There is no but. It’s more about wanting it to go right. So nothing gets fucked up.”
Zander looked at him, considering what might have him out of sorts, and asked. “How do you want the power balance with her to work?”
“I want to kneel at her feet.” The words came out rushed, almost desperate. “I want to accept whatever she wishes to do to me. I want to serve her. Not as I do you, but still, I want to service her and serve her and submit to her.”
Heat flared in Zander’s chest — possessiveness and satisfaction wound together. “Tell me more.”
Spencer’s scent shifted, going warm with arousal.
“It’s been building for months, since Anchorage.
Watching her recover from what Lucien did to her—” His voice cracked.
“It hurt me. Seeing her afterwards. The way she was trying so hard to be okay when she wasn’t.
I wanted to be there for her in ways that weren’t appropriate back then, but they can be now. ”
“You wanted to care for her,” Zander said softly. “To ease her pain.”
“Yes, while she was hurting, both physically and mentally, and I was glad Felix could give her what she needed, a way to take back her power, but god…”
Zander had known this at the time because Spencer had told him, but it was good to have his boy talk through it again.
“And when she isn’t hurting? When she’s strong?”
“No matter what frame of mind she’s in, I still want to submit to her. It wasn’t appropriate before. I manage the flock, and she was flock, but she’s been living with us for weeks, sleeping with me, and it feels like that’s shifted, so it can be appropriate now.”
“Now she’s ours. Or will be, after tonight.” Spencer’s voice steadied. “And I want to give her everything I have. I want her to know she can hurt me, and I’ll thank her for it. That I trust her the way I trust you.”
Zander cupped Spencer’s face with both hands. “And what if it isn’t that she’s ours, but that you belong to me and Emerald?”
Spencer threw his arms around Zander and burst into tears. “Fuck, Sir. That’s what I want more than anything.”
“You’re so sure she can top you?”
“She’s young, and I get that, but you’ve watched her with Felix, through his eyes — and I’ve seen them together.
She finds a balance between power, pain, and pleasure.
Yes, I’m sure.” He pulled back a little and met Zander’s gaze.
“Mostly, I trust you to be sure it’s okay — to be certain she won’t take me apart in a way you can’t put back together. ”
Zander’s chest tightened with emotion he didn’t have words for. This man — his partner, his submissive, his love — was offering himself to Emmy, and he was doing it knowing Zander would keep them all safe.
“You humble me,” Zander said quietly. “The gift you’re giving us both.”
“It’s not a gift if I’m getting exactly what I want.” Spencer leaned into Zander’s touch. “I’ve been half in love with her since even before the glacier boat trip. Watching you fall for her just made it easier to admit what I was feeling.”
“Half in love,” Zander repeated, a smile tugging at his lips. “Only half?”
“The other half is still figuring out how a dragon, a vampire, and a werewolf make this work long-term.” Spencer’s grin was wry. “But I’m committed to figuring it out.”
Zander kissed him, and Spencer returned his slow kiss with all the promise of the strong submissive his dearest had grown into. When he pulled back, Spencer’s eyes were dark, his breathing unsteady.
“Tonight,” Zander said, his voice rough with want, “you’ll kneel for her and offer her your submission on your terms, not mine.
If this is to work, we all have to actively make it happen.
Now, pants off, and go get the five-pound stainless plug.
I want you feeling every ounce of it all day — every step, every shift, every time you sit or stand.
I want you thinking about tonight, about her, about me, until you can’t think about anything else. ”
Spencer shuddered, arousal flooding his scent. “Yes, Sir.”
The plug was a beast, with a skinny neck and a wide, unyielding bulb. Spencer squeezing himself closed all day to hold it in would make him extra-tight at the end of the day.
Not to mention, the bulb massaging his prostate all day would have him so horny he couldn’t think straight.
Zander watched Spencer remove his pants, retrieve the plug from the armoire, generously lubricate it, walk back, then kneel without being told, presenting the plug on open palms like an offering, and Zander felt a dark satisfaction coil low in his gut.
He accepted it, and Spence stood, turned, and bent forward, bracing his hands on the footboard.
Zander pressed the blunt tip against Spencer’s hole, and pushed.
His boy exhaled, as if breathing out would make room for it, and Zander pressed harder.
A soft whine escaped when the widest part stretched him open — then a long, shuddering groan as it finally slid past the ring and sank home, the weight settling against his prostate.
“Stand and turn.”
He did, and his cock jerked, a bead of precum on the head, but Zander ignored it. He cupped the back of Spencer’s neck instead, thumb stroking the pulse there.
“Knees, boy. Mouth open. Hands behind your back.”
Spencer obeyed instantly, chest heaving.
Zander freed his rock-hard cock and guided the head past Spencer’s lips, sliding deep on the first thrust, groaning at the wet heat, the tight clasp of throat muscles fluttering around him.
He didn’t rush at first. He let Spencer adjust, let him feel the stretch of jaw, the weight of cock filling his mouth, the plug shifting inside with every tiny movement. Then Zander’s hands slid into Spencer’s hair, and he began to move.
Steady at first, controlled rolls of his hips that dragged the length of his shaft over Spencer’s tongue, bumped the back of his throat, withdrew just enough to let his boy breathe before sliding back in.
Spencer’s eyes watered, tears gathering at the corners, but he never pulled away.
Never tapped out. He took it — every inch, every thrust — his boy’s cock untouched and pulsing.
Zander’s rhythm built. Faster. Harder. The wet, obscene sounds of throat-fucking filled the room, mingling with Spencer’s choked moans and the low, animal growl building in Zander’s chest.
He gripped Spence’s head tighter, holding him steady while Zander drove deep and fast. Eventually, he went in and held.
His boy’s throat convulsed, milking him, and that was it.
Zander’s balls drew up tight, heat exploding down his spine.
He buried himself to the root and came with a rough, guttural sound, pulsing thick ropes straight down Spencer’s throat.
And his boy swallowed hungrily, throat working around the spurting cock, taking every drop without spilling a single one.
When the last shudder left him, Zander eased out slowly, letting Spencer’s lips drag along the sensitive length until the head came free. A thin string of saliva and come connected them for a heartbeat before it broke.
Zander tucked himself away with efficient movements, fastened his trousers, then reached down to tilt Spencer’s chin up. The wolf’s lips were swollen, shiny, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with subspace and unspent need.
“Up. Put your pants back on.”
As always, his boy obeyed, and Zander asked, “What’s on your schedule for this morning?”
Spencer blinked slowly, voice hoarse. “Preparations for the Versailles Carnivale, Sir. Two balls nearly back-to-back adds a couple of complications, but nothing I can’t handle.”
Zander nodded, leaned down, and kissed his boy, tasting himself. Spence hugged him back, and he gave his boy as much time as he needed before he stepped away.
“I like knowing you’ll think of me all day, holding the plug in. Go. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Zander sat alone at his desk, letting himself feel the full weight of what was coming.
Tonight, they’d cross a threshold. The three of them together, building something new on the foundation of trust and choice.
And Zander would have to find a balance between letting her take the lead and making sure his boy’s needs were seen to.
Not Spencer’s wants, but his needs. The two were often wildly opposite.
Bottom line, Emerald had been clear she wanted to take control of Spencer on her own terms, and he’d have to let that happen. However, after seeing her in action through Felix’s eyes, he felt certain she’d figure out how to push Spencer to, and possibly past, his limits without breaking him.
It would be a claiming and an act of trust for all three of them.