CHAPTER 4
Zeke
I should’ve tossed them the keys when they appeared in the doorway. In mere seconds, they could’ve been on their way, and I could get back to doing the shit I needed to be doing. It would’ve been the smart thing to do.
Despite my college degree and my rather high IQ, no one had ever accused me of being smart. Most of the adjectives associated with me were in line with enormous, mean, sadistic, and intolerant.
Enormous and sadistic, sure. I would admit to those. Mean and intolerant … no. I didn’t see it. Nor was I a glutton for punishment.
Which begged the question: what the hell was I doing entertaining the notion of fucking these boys’ lives up by getting involved with them?
Unfortunately for all three of us, I didn’t have an answer.
I could only think it had everything to do with that scene I’d interrupted at Dichotomy.
When I’d whipped the pretty boy until he was flying so fucking high I feared for a moment he would never come back down, a strange obsession had followed.
Watching him mutter and moan as the tails did all but split his skin wide open had fueled me in a way I hadn’t experienced in quite some time.
Seeing my stripes on his back had stirred the beast within, and now he was taking over.
I’d dreamed about it since. Strapping the pretty boy’s beautiful naked ass up and beating him black and blue, pushing him harder until he whimpered and cried, pleading for me to stop.
Only then would I give him enough to send him over the edge.
Admittedly, I’d been surprised by his pain threshold.
Once I’d witnessed it for myself, I had wondered whether anyone before me had ever given him what he needed.
As for the cowboy … I’d had some rather interesting thoughts about him, too.
Most of them consisted of me laying him out, burying my fingers in his ass, and fucking him so goddamn hard he was crying out with the need to come.
My cock always followed my fingers as I chased my release, brutally nailing him as hard and as deep as I could.
And every damn time, they were both begging me to never stop.
It wasn’t until I’d found them fucking in the shower that I realized the two of them had a relationship.
Not that I cared. As long as they were willing, I didn’t give a fuck what they did in their spare time.
I didn’t give a shit who their parents were, whether they had a good relationship with their siblings.
It didn’t matter to me if they’d graduated from high school with honors or by the skin of their teeth.
I couldn’t care less if they called their mommas every damn day or hadn’t spoken in ten years.
I didn’t need to know anything about them personally, and that was the way I liked it.
Entertaining the idea of dominating them made sense. I needed it. They needed it. Being on a first-name basis with them was not on the table.
I could see the fear in their eyes, the terror warring with excitement.
I knew they wanted the unique brand of pain I could give them, which had me curious as to how two masochists—one with a ridiculously high threshold for pain—had ended up together.
It was a question I would ponder but never ask.
I had no desire to get to know them. I wasn’t here to be their friend or their lover.
I could offer only one thing: to make their deepest, darkest fantasies come true. In return, they would offer me one thing: complete and total surrender.
“I can practically hear you thinking,” I said when the silence had beat on for a few minutes. “The wheels in your heads are spinning. You’re curious as to why you’re sitting there silently while I stare at you. It doesn’t make sense, does it? This strange hold I have over you?”
Two sets of green eyes—one light, one dark—leveled on my face.
“You’re wondering what I want to do to you, whether or not I’ll give in to those impulses, the urge to beat you down until you’re shattered and broken.”
Neither man moved.
“I can see it in your eyes. You would do anything I told you to do. No matter how perverted or depraved it may seem. In fact, you’re eager for me to hurt and humiliate you the way I did before, only this time, you’re thinking no holds barred.
You want me to unleash on you, to show you a world of agony you’ve never experienced, to help you come to terms with why you are the way you are. ”
I watched them for a moment, enjoying the fear I could see.
The way their chests expanded rapidly, their throats working as they swallowed the fear back.
I fed off that trepidation. It made me invincible.
Especially when dealing with two large males who likely didn’t submit to anyone other than the Dominant who could give them what they craved.
“Trust me,” I told them. “I’ve considered it.”
That was hope glittering in their eyes, and I had the need to quash it before it grew wings and took flight.
It was true, these two were quite possibly stronger than any masochists I’d dealt with before, but I knew they could never handle me.
They were all looking for the same thing.
A sadistic bastard who would beat on them, then cuddle them close and shower them with praise. I wasn’t that man.
I would never be that man.
I locked eyes with the pretty boy. “I’ve played with you.
I know what you need. Pain, hot and fresh, searing your flesh until your fucking cock’s so goddamn hard you’re blinded with the need to come.
But you don’t know what true pain is. It’s not only physical, pretty boy.
The mental aspect will wear you down. The wrath I would inflict on you would have you cowering in a corner, begging for mercy. I’d give you two days tops.”
“You’re wrong,” he said, his tone firm, far too self-assured for his own good.
“Am I?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
“And how can you be so sure?”
He didn’t so much as flinch before he answered. “Because no one has come close to scratching the itch. You got me off. Sure. And I suffered greatly in a way I’d only dreamed about. But it wasn’t nearly enough.”
I was surprised by his admission and not at all disappointed.
“And you, cowboy? What in the ever-loving fuck would you want from me?”
He swallowed hard but didn’t look away. “Whatever you’re willing to give me, Zeke.”
“No matter how filthy? How disgusting? Because, little boy, my mind knows no bounds. My fantasies scare the devil himself.”
The cowboy’s chin tilted up slightly. “I would give you everything that I am, Zeke.”
I glanced over at the pretty boy. “Do you like hearing that? Knowing your boyfriend’s willing to bend over and let me fuck him rough and hard while you watch? Does it turn you on?”
“It does. Yes.” The hard ridge behind his zipper said he wasn’t lying.
I leaned back and regarded them. That had been a test. One I was surprised they passed. Most submissives started to cower, then beg. Only once had I found a submissive who had the balls to stand up to me. But he and I didn’t see eye to eye. Apparently, I wasn’t the man he needed.
I picked up the keys and tossed them to the pretty boy.
“Get settled in. We’ll meet at three to walk through the restaurant with the contractor. Tonight, you’ll meet me at Dichotomy so we can discuss this some more. At that point, if I think you’re worth my time, I’ll let you know.”
I motioned toward the door.
“You’re dismissed.”
“Thank you, Zeke,” they both said at the same time before getting to their feet and heading for the door.
I stared at the space they’d vacated for a long time afterward, wondering just how far they would let me go before they decided I wasn’t worth even the most wicked orgasm.
That time would come.
It always did.
Case (the pretty boy)
Once we got the keys, Brax and I went back down to the car to grab the things we’d brought with us.
Nothing more than a couple of bags with necessities, two suitcases full of clothes, and pillows.
We still needed to buy a blow-up mattress, so we weren’t obligated to sleep on the floor until our things arrived next Thursday.
During the entire round trip to the garage and then back up to the apartment, neither of us said anything.
Not a single word.
Although the silence spoke volumes.
My head was spinning from the unexpected conversation with Zeke. The fear he’d instilled in me was liquid fire in my veins, fueling a desire I’d done my best to repress for so long now. I wanted what that man could offer me, and I was willing to do damn near anything to get it.
It wasn’t until we stepped inside the apartment that all thoughts of that conversation fled, and I was once again filled with that absurd feeling of being trapped inside a box.
I’d felt it last week when we came to look at the apartment, but I had shrugged it off.
Mostly. It was now back with a vengeance, making it difficult to breathe.
The walls felt as though they were closing in, pushing all the air out.
Which was strange when I thought about it.
I didn’t have an issue with restraints of any kind.
Chains, cuffs, suspension, stockade. In the clubs, I’d done it all and not once had I ever panicked, nor had I ever felt too restricted, confined.
I’d go so far as to say the restraints heightened the sensation for me. The fear they instilled was welcome.
This—being inside a box within a box high up in the sky—made me desperate for air, as though my lungs couldn’t fill fast enough. I couldn’t stand to see so many walls and not nearly enough windows, no doors to the outside, no way to break free if necessary.
Back in Dallas, Brax and I had lived in a house. Nothing fancy. Three bedrooms, one bathroom, postage-stamp-sized yard. But when I stepped out the door, I was instantly greeted with fresh air. Here, I ended up in a hallway that led to an elevator, a maze I had to overcome before I ever broke free.