Chapter 1 The Phone Call #2
Adam turned around, snagging something off the dresser.
One of Noah’s ties. He’d prepped for this.
A tiny thrill ran through Noah. He held his hands up, but Adam just tossed the knife onto the bed, then spun Noah around, tugging his arms behind him and securing them with the silk fabric.
The silk dragged tight against his wrists, burning faintly as it bit into the skin.
Noah bit back a smile when Adam slipped a finger beneath the ties to make sure they weren’t too tight.
“Awfully considerate for a cold-blooded killer.”
Noah anticipated him, whipping him back around.
He didn’t expect the slap to the face that had his head jerking to the side, skin burning hot where Adam’s gloved palm had landed.
His cock twitched, already wet with anticipation.
He loved when Adam got violent. The glove had added some extra weight behind it.
“What was that?” Adam asked, voice low and distorted through the mask.
“I said you hit like a bitch,” Noah countered, then spit on the mask.
“Let’s see if you still think that in a minute,” Adam said, shoving two fingers past Noah’s lips, hooking them behind his bottom teeth to force his mouth open.
Noah gagged slightly, then moaned, sucking hard at them, the taste of leather bitter on his tongue.
Adam dragged them free, then wiped them on Noah’s cheek, smearing spit across his skin.
“Filthy little slut,” Adam rasped, the modulated voice almost demonic. “I like you better when you’re stuffed or gagging.”
Noah’s bottom lip caught between his teeth as Adam reached behind himself.
The rip of Velcro was loud, obscene, as the robe fell to the floor, leaving Adam in only his black sweatpants.
Noah had known it was him, but seeing the tattoos—bold black ink rippling with every flex—finally untied that sliver of doubt floating around in his chest.
He wanted to lick them. Wanted to trace every mark with his tongue until Adam was growling above him.
Their sex life was hardly lacking, but it was harder to let Adam toss him around and treat him like a whore when he had staff meetings or press briefings the next morning.
But tonight, it didn’t matter. Tomorrow was the annual Mulvaney Halloween gala.
Fifty plus people would descend on the Mulvaney mansion, but right now? Noah was his husband’s prey.
“Leave the mask on,” Noah whispered, and fell to his knees without being ordered to.
“Someone’s eager,” Adam taunted, fisting a hand in Noah’s hair and pulling him forward until his face pressed against the thick bulge in his sweats.
Noah moaned, shameless, licking the outline of his husband’s cock through the soft cotton. His tongue traced the ridge of Adam’s head, dampening the fabric until a dark stain spread across it.
“You’re so hot when you’re on your knees like this.”
“Just when I’m like this?” Noah asked, sitting back on his heels to look up at him through his lashes, eyes wide and fake-innocent.
“You know the answer to that,” Adam said, voice somehow sexy despite the mechanical growl.
“I like to hear it anyway.”
“Then do something deserving of praise.”
Adam yanked his head back by the hair, the sting delicious.
“If you want me to suck you off, you’re going to have to lower your pants yourself or untie me.”
The glint of challenge in Noah’s eyes was a match tossed on gasoline. Adam’s laugh was low and cruel, the sound vibrating through the mask. “Oh, I’ll feed you, sweetheart. I love listening to you choke on my cock.”
Adam hooked his thumbs into his waistband.
The gesture was unhurried, predatory. His chipped black nail polish caught the low light like little crescent moons, and Noah couldn’t stop watching them.
Each drag of fabric down Adam’s hips revealed another inch of skin—taut muscle, the dark line of hair trailing lower—until Noah’s throat went dry.
He was already so hard it was painful, the head of his cock slick against his belly. He knew Adam would only let him get off one of two ways. Either he had to let Adam finish, or he had to hope Adam would let him rub off on his foot while he called him a needy little slut.
Noah preferred the latter. He could practically feel the ghost of his husband’s heel against his cock just from thinking about it.
The moment Adam’s cock sprang free, heavy and flushed, Noah’s resolve cracked. He leaned forward and licked a slow stripe across the underside, tasting salt and heat, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please.”
“Please what?”
Noah whined, tongue darting against the vein running along Adam’s shaft. “You know what I want.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Fuck my throat. Use me.”
Adam huffed out a laugh. “Slut.”
Noah nodded eagerly, moaning as Adam fed his cock past his lips.
The first push was brutal, not a tease but a claim.
His lips stretched, throat working around the intrusion.
His nose brushed Adam’s pelvis with every thrust, the faint smell of soap and sweat and leather filling his head until there was no room for anything else.
If he’d expected Adam to ease him in, he was wrong. He was merciless from the outset, forcing Noah to breathe through his nose or gag. Neither of them would be satisfied until Noah was drooling and embarrassing himself with the wet, slick sound of Adam’s use.
Each thrust drove the head of Adam’s cock into the back of Noah’s throat like a piston, his gag reflex fluttering helplessly. His jaw ached; his eyes watered. He moaned anyway, the vibrations running up Adam’s shaft.
Adam pulled his head back by the hair and slapped him across the face once more, dragging another needy whine from him.
“Who do you belong to?”
“You,” Noah rasped, voice raw and lips slick with spit.
“Prove it.”
Noah tipped his head back and waited, eyes closed.
“Stick out your tongue.”
Noah didn’t hesitate. When he felt Adam’s spit on his tongue, hot and wet, landing in a thick string, he swallowed it like it was communion, a groan rattling out of him. By the time he opened his eyes again, Adam had fixed his mask back into place, the hollow eyes impossibly dark.
“I love when you’re this obedient,” he said, sliding his cock back into his mouth, his fingers twisting his hair at the root. Noah groaned around him, aching to jerk himself off but unable to do so, his bound wrists useless.
“You were born to be on your knees.”
Adam shoved his cock as deep as it would go, until Noah’s lips pressed flat against his skin and his air supply vanished. The only thing he could do was swallow, throat convulsing, tears spilling down his cheeks. Drool coated his lips and chin, dripping onto their hardwood floors in slick strands.
Adam waited until Noah’s vision started to tunnel before pulling free. Noah dragged in heaving breaths, spit stringing from his mouth to the swollen head of Adam’s cock. Even through the mask, Noah could feel the intensity of his gaze, like a hand closing around his heart.
Once more, he stuck out his tongue, eyes trained on his husband’s sweaty, heaving abs. He was close. Noah could tell from the tremor in his thighs, the way his cock jerked in his grip.
Adam came with another mechanical growl that should not have been at all hot, but somehow was. The sound was low and vibrating, a monster’s purr, as his salty release coated Noah’s tongue.
He swallowed it all, then opened his mouth to show Adam, tongue out, glistening, the perfect submissive picture.
“Is it my turn now?” Noah rasped, voice hoarse but wicked.
Adam stared down at him for a long moment, before his head turned to the bed. “Do you trust me?”
“You have to ask after all these years?” Noah countered.
“Get on the bed. Ass up.”
Noah frowned but did as he was told, careful to avoid brushing against the knife still lying there like a threat.
He expected the mattress to dip under Adam’s weight, but it didn’t.
Instead, he was left with his face pressed into the comforter, his ass high and exposed, cock drooling onto the fabric like proof of his own humiliation.
He stared at the knife—six inches of gleaming steel with a serrated edge. The handle was smooth, rounded metal, made for grip, almost too sleek. He didn’t recognize it, and that unsettled him more than the blade itself. How many toys did Adam have stashed away that he didn’t even know about?
The longer he lay there, the worse his anxiety clawed at him, winding his nerves tight.
But it did nothing to ease the painful throb of his cock, dripping and aching for friction.
He heard Adam moving around, slow, deliberate.
The drawer sliding open on his side of the bed. A bottle cap clicking. Lube. Finally.
When the bed dipped at last, Noah almost sobbed with relief. Until Adam reached over him and grabbed the knife.
“Whatcha doing?”
“I thought you said you trusted me?” Adam’s voice had lost the mechanical distortion, but the purr was still taunting, dark silk over steel.
“More than I trust anyone else with a hunting knife,” Noah muttered, his pulse leaping, “but that’s a low bar.”
Adam chuckled—condescending, amused—the sound vibrating straight through Noah’s spine. It was the kind of laugh that said he was already five steps ahead, that Noah was already caught. Fear spiked icy-hot along Noah’s nerves. He’d never been so turned on in his life.
When cold metal touched his rim, he flinched hard, an animal-like whimper clawing out of his throat before he could stop it. He knew Adam wouldn’t actually hurt him—wouldn’t—but his intrusive thoughts painted black anyway.
He gasped when the handle slipped past the first tight ring of muscle. It was bigger than it had looked, the stretch making him burn just enough to make his cock twitch. The sharp, metallic chill turned molten as it seated deeper.
“Adam?” His voice cracked on the name.
“Shh,” Adam soothed, one hand firm on his lower back. “You’re okay. You’re gonna like this.”