Chapter 26
I tried to focus on the action movie playing on my TV, but my mind kept wandering back to the events of the day. The image of Cade sitting on Ryder's lap during lunch, her face flushed and her body trembling as Ryder's hand moved beneath the table was seared into my memory. I could hear her soft gasps, barely audible over the din of the dining hall as she struggled to resist the pleasure Ryder was forcing upon her. The look of fear and arousal in her eyes as Logan warned her that her climax would result in a punishment.
My cock strained against my sweatpants, and I found myself palming it roughly. I imagined what it would have been like to be the one touching her, to feel her warmth and wetness on my fingers. But even more intoxicating was the thought of being under that table, spreading her legs and tasting her myself while she writhed in ecstasy, trying desperately to maintain her composure in front of everyone.
When Ryder had suggested I find out for myself how Cade tasted, it had taken every ounce of self-control I had not to take him up on the offer right then and there. The image of me on my knees, my face buried between Cade's thighs as I licked and sucked her most intimate places while she bit her lip to keep from crying out filled my mind. I groaned, my hand moving frantically over my now fully erect cock as I lost myself in the fantasy. I pictured Ryder's hand on the back of my head, forcing me deeper as I pleasured Cade just the way he wanted. I could feel her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as her hips bucked against my mouth. Ryder's voice in my ear, low and commanding, urging me on.
"Fuck her with your tongue, Cole. Make her cum on your face. I want to see her fall apart." My balls tightened as I approached the edge, my arousal almost painfully intense.
A loud, abrupt slam echoed through the house, startling me from my thoughts, and the release I had been chasing. I instantly knew it was Ryder, his temper still flaring even hours after Logan had texted us about his change of plans. Logan had decided to "teach Cade a lesson," claiming her for the night, and the news had sent Ryder into a rage that I'd barely managed to calm.
Even when Logan and Cade had returned home, the tension between them was palpable, evident in every glance and movement. It was clear that something had transpired between them, and it had only served to further agitate Ryder.
I heard footsteps approaching my door, followed by a soft, almost hesitant knock. Ryder poked his head in, his gaze immediately dropping to my hand, which was wrapped firmly around my cock through my sweatpants. A slow, wicked grin spread across his face, and his eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and desire.
"Looks like I'm not the only one feeling frustrated tonight," he said, his voice a low, teasing growl. His gaze flicked to the TV screen where a mindless action movie played, filled with explosions and gunfire. "Want to watch a much better movie in my room?" A shiver of excitement ran through me. I knew exactly what Ryder was suggesting. He'd been filming Cade, capturing her every move. The thought of watching her, of invading her privacy in such an intimate way, sent a thrill of dark desire coursing through my veins. But it was more than just the allure of watching her. I could see the tension in Ryder's shoulders, the barely contained energy that seemed to crackle in the air around him. He needed an outlet for his frustration, and so did I. We'd found solace in each other before, in the darkest corners of our desires, and tonight would be no different.
"Yeah," I said, my voice rough and husky with need. "Yeah, I'd like that." Ryder's grin widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes.
"Then come on," he said, jerking his head towards the hallway. "I've got something you're going to love."
I followed him to his room, my heart pounding with anticipation, the rhythm echoing in my ears. As we stepped inside, the dim glow of multiple computer monitors enveloped us, casting long, dancing shadows across the walls. My eyes were immediately drawn to the large screen on his desk. It displayed a live feed of Logan's room, where Cade and Logan stood, locked in an intimate dance of sorts.
Cade was a vision in a black silk chemise that clung to her like a second skin, accentuating every curve, every line of her body. The fabric shimmered under the soft light, leaving little to the imagination. Logan had one hand slipped beneath the hem, his fingers exploring unseen territory. I could see Cade's chest heaving, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps that made her breasts strain against the silky fabric. The sight sent a jolt of heat through me, a mix of arousal and discomfort coiling in my gut.
"You've got cameras in Logan's room?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, though I wasn't really surprised. Ryder had always been obsessive about control, about knowing everything that happened under his roof. He chuckled, a low, dark sound that promised so much.
"I've got cameras everywhere in this house, Cole. Every room, every corridor. All of them recording, all the time." He moved closer, his hot breath on my ear sending a shiver down my spine.
"Do you like what you see?" I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen, from the sight of Logan's hand moving under Cade's chemise, from the way her body responded to his touch.
"Yes," I admitted, my voice hoarse.
"Do you want a release tonight, Cole?" His voice was a low growl, filled with promise. "Do you want to watch while I make you feel good?" A surge of arousal ran through me. I nodded, unable to form words, my body already responding to his. Ryder's hand came to rest on the small of my back, his touch burning through my clothes. He guided me towards the foot of his bed where a low, padded bench stood waiting.
"You know what to do," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. I did. We'd done this dance many times before, but the familiarity didn't dull the edge of anticipation that ran through me like a live wire. In fact, I welcomed the chance to lose myself in the role. I stripped off my sweatpants, the cool air of Ryder's bedroom kissing my naked skin as I knelt on the low bench at the foot of his bed. The position was a familiar one, instantly bringing me a sense of calm and submission. I reached out, gripping the footboard of Ryder's bed, the wood smooth and worn under my fingertips.
Behind me, Ryder moved around, his presence a tangible force in the dimly lit room. Suddenly, an image flickered to life on the wall above the bed, a projection of the computer screen, blown up to life-size. The scene was surreal and voyeuristic, a live feed of Logan's room cast in stark shadows and highlights. Cade was scrambling onto Logan's bed, her movements jerky and nervous, her breaths coming in quick, visible gasps. Logan watched her with the intensity of a predator stalking its prey, his body coiled with tension. The sight of them, the raw desire palpable even through the camera lens, made my cock throb painfully.
Ryder stepped closer, his breath hot on my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
"What are the rules, Cole?" he asked, his voice low and commanding, a dark whisper that promised both pain and pleasure. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus, to ground myself in the ritual of our play.
"My hands stay on the footboard unless you give me permission," I recited, the words coming automatically, ingrained in my memory from countless sessions before this. "I don't touch myself unless you say I can. If it gets to be too much, I use the safe word."
"Good boy," Ryder purred, his approval a dark caress that wrapped around me like a sinister embrace. I heard the quiet clinking of metal, felt the cool touch of the cuffs as Ryder secured my hands to the footboard. The touch was both firm and oddly comforting, a promise of what was to come.
I looked up at the screen, transfixed by the scene unfolding before me. Logan had joined Cade on the bed, the shift to the night camera giving the scene a grainy, almost ethereal quality. He wasn't touching her, not yet, but the tension between them was a living thing, a crackling energy that seemed to hum through the room, resonating deep within me.
Then, I felt it, the familiar touch of leather against my back. The flogger. I tensed, anticipating the first strike, craving the sharp sting that would follow. When it came, it was like a line of fire across my shoulders. I arched my back, welcoming the pain, letting it ground me as I watched the scene unfolding on the wall. Each strike sent shock waves of pain and pleasure through my body, the sensations merging into a primal symphony that drowned out everything else. Ryder struck again, and again, each blow sending a rush of endorphins coursing through my veins. I lost myself in the rhythm of it, in the burning of my skin and the ache in my neglected cock.
Suddenly, there was movement on the screen. Logan pounced, pinning Cade beneath him, her wrists restrained by his strong grip. Even from our limited viewpoint, I could see her eyes widen with a mix of fear and desire, lips parted in a silent gasp. Logan's body was firmly between her legs, and although the room was silent to us, my mind filled in the blanks. Her soft moans, his gruff breaths. Ryder paused in his actions, the flogger halting mid-air as he leaned in close, his breath hot on my ear.
"Do you think he's inside her yet?" he whispered, his voice laced with a dark hunger. "How do you think she feels, wrapped around his cock? Is she squeezing him tight, do you think?" Each word was a caress, a torture, sending shock waves of pleasure straight to my groin. I whimpered, my hips jerking involuntarily, seeking more of his touch. Ryder's hand snaked around to grasp my cock, giving it a firm, almost painful squeeze that had me seeing stars.
"Is this what you want?" he asked, slowly stroking me, his pace only heightening my frustration. "To be buried deep inside her, hearing her scream your name as you fuck her raw?" The image of it flew into my head and had me jerking in Ryder's hand, trying, and failing, to get more friction. Ryder leaned in closer, his lips at my ear.
"Would you share her with me, Cole?" he asked. "Would you fuck her with me? Our two cocks sliding side by side, stretching her tight pussy, moulding her to what she is born to be. All ours." My breaths came in pants, each one of Ryder's words bringing more delicious visuals. I groaned as Ryder slowed. I felt his other hand slide around my rear and press against my puckered hole.
"Or..." He huffed, his own breathing strained, "Would you prefer to be buried deep inside her while I fuck you from behind? To feel her tighten around you while you take everything I give you?" The image his words conjured was almost too much to bear. I felt my orgasm building, my balls tightening, the sensation spiralling from my core outward. But just as I was about to tip over the edge, Logan rolled off of Cade, turning his back to her. The confusion and frustration on her face mirrored my own, a brutal reflection of unfulfilled desire. Ryder huffed out a laugh, his hand stilling on me, leaving me teetering on the edge of darkness.
"Fucking waste," he murmured, sounding almost disappointed at Logan's restraint. We watched for a few more minutes but the bed remained still, the room silent except for our own ragged breaths. I could feel the tension radiating off Ryder, his frustration matching mine. His hands disappeared from my body, leaving me craving more.
"Ready for the next stage?" Ryder asked, his voice thick with promise and dark intensity. I nodded quickly, desperation for release coursing through my veins. Ryder stood up and moved to his computer, tapping a few keys. The image on the wall shifted, revealing Cade asleep in her own room. It was clearly a recording from a previous night, the dim light casting long shadows across her peaceful form.
I felt something cold and wet at my entrance and my breath hitched, panic rising. Despite everything we'd done together, this moment was still laced with the echoes of past trauma, of an innocence stolen way too fucking young, and the many times that it had been ripped away after.
Memories of hands on my body, of the men and women who used me, who fucked me, threatened to surface but I pushed them down, reminding myself that this was Ryder. I trusted him implicitly. And I needed him, I needed his brand of pain and pleasure to chase away the nightmares that haunted my dreams. I knew he needed me too. Ryder's own dark desires to control, to cause pain matched my own as a recipient, like we were almost two pieces of a damaged, fucked up puzzle.
"You okay?" Ryder asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, almost a caress. I nodded, forcing myself to relax, to breathe through the fear.
"I'm good," I managed to say, my voice barely a whisper. Ryder applied more lube, the cool sensation sending shivers down my spine. Then I felt the pressure of something hard being slowly pushed inside me. The sensation was both painful and pleasurable, a burning stretch that made me gasp. I breathed deeply, steadying myself as movement on the screen caught my attention.
A figure had entered Cade's room, Ryder. I watched, transfixed, as the recorded Ryder knelt beside Cade's bed, his hands roaming her unconscious body. The sight ignited something deeper in me, confusion, arousal, and a growing obsession with both Cade and Ryder.
"I still hope that one day you'll let me fuck you," the real Ryder whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "But I can be patient." I was gasping now, overwhelmed by the dual sensations of the plug in my ass and the sight of Ryder touching the sleeping Cade. The pressure of lust raced through my body, leaving me breathless and begging.
"Please," I begged, though I wasn't sure what I was asking for. Ryder's hand wrapped around my cock again, stroking slowly, deliberately.
"She was wet, even in her sleep," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire. "And she tastes so fucking good." I felt my orgasm building again, faster this time, a wave of pleasure crashing through me. But just as I was about to cum, Ryder let go. I cried out in frustration, my hips bucking uselessly, desperate for the release that was so cruelly denied.
"You can take your hands off the footboard now," Ryder said, his voice rough and laced with desire. I obeyed instantly, one hand flying to my cock, gripping it firmly. I started to stroke myself, rough and fast, just the way I liked it. Behind me, I heard the whistle of the flogger as it cut through the air, a moment before it struck my back. The sharp sting of pain mingled with the pleasure of my own touch, sending waves of intense sensation coursing through my body. The plug in my ass shifted with each stroke, adding another layer of stimulation that had me gasping for breath.
On the screen, the recorded Ryder was reaching his climax, his body tense as he pleasured himself over Cade's sleeping form. The sight of it, combined with the raw, visceral sensations overwhelming my body was too much. I could feel my orgasm building, a heated coil in the pit of my stomach, ready to snap. Ryder timed each strike of the flogger to my movements, the pain and pleasure heightening in a crescendo that pushed me closer and closer to the edge. Then he was back on his knees beside me, his hand wrapped around his own cock.
"Fuck Cole, you look so fucking good on your knees for me, with my marks on you," he grunted into my ear. His whispered words, praising me, encouraging me, were the final push I needed.
"Come for me Cole, come for me, and come for Cade." With his permission, I stroked myself furiously, chasing my release. The sensation was overwhelming, all-consuming. The heat in my stomach exploded, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. I came hard, with a shout that echoed through the room, my body convulsing as I spilled over my hand. My vision whited out, the intensity of my climax eclipsing everything else. I sagged against the bed, utterly spent, my body aching but satisfied.
As I drifted on the edge of consciousness, I felt Ryder's gentle hands on me. He cleaned me up, his touch tender and careful. He removed the plug, the sensation sending a final shudder through my body. He applied soothing cream to my welted back, pausing briefly as I hissed from the pain before going back to it, a stark contrast to the brutality of our play.
"You did so well," he murmured, helping me onto the bed. "Such a good boy for me." I wanted to respond, to thank him, but exhaustion was pulling me under. The last thing I felt before sleep claimed me was Ryder's body curling around mine, protective and possessive all at once. His warmth enveloped me, a comforting reminder of his presence.