by R Phoenix
Undone
Morgan Noel
&
R. Phoenix
Undone
Copyright January 2018 by Morgan Noel & R. Phoenix
Cover by Enamel
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is meant for sale to adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and language which may be considered offensive. All sexually active characters in this work are eighteen (18) years of age or older.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Epilogue
About Morgan Noel
About R. Phoenix
Other Collaborations by Morgan Noel & R. Phoenix
Other Books by R. Phoenix
Chapter One
The late-night crowd at the Lucky Blight had begun to dissipate, but time didn’t have the same sway over everyone. More spirited music gave way to lounge music, reminding them it was time to calm down and start shuffling out the door of the successful casino.
It meant it was almost time to quit. He could barely wait for the night to be over, even if it meant going back to Leandro.
But at the moment, the fae was the lesser of evils compared to the ridiculously tight pants that kept riding up his ass. The fishnet shirt wasn’t much better. Everyone who’d come to the casino that night had been able to see just how pale his skin looked in contrast to the black of the leather pants and the leather of the collar around his neck, and they hadn’t stopped fucking touching him.
Hands, nails, a switchblade, and even the muzzle of a fucking gun had been slid along the flat plane of his stomach and up the inside of his leg. It was typical for the high rollers room, but it was only part of the reason he hated being there. They were all rich and entitled, and most of them were envious of Leandro — for his wealth, his power, or his pet incubus.
“Blow,” Barsum said with a broad smirk.
Kolt just stared at him until a pair of dice was presented in the high roller’s palm. Fucking hell.
He smiled fleetingly and let his fingers ghost up the man’s forearm to his hand. He cupped it between both of his own and bend forward, blowing gently on the dice. As he did, he could hear the thrum of pleasure that ran through that large body.
Barsum was all muscle and completely ugly, but he needed to feel safe and comfortable so he would gamble a lot, and hopefully lose a lot with good spirits.
That was where Kolt came in.
The dice skipped across the table, landing on a four and a five. Barsum pumped his fist like the douchebag he was, and Kolt smiled sardonically at him.
“Well, aren’t you lucky…” he purred.
Barsum’s hand slid into his hair — long and blond and in a loose but intricate braid down his back. “No, you are, I think. Explains all of your master’s success, doesn’t it, little slut?” the man responded with a similar sort of purr.
Before Kolt knew what was going on, he was pulled into a sloppy, rough kiss. The hand in his hair tightened to the point of being painful. Why did these douches always have to fucking hurt him?
He groaned, and Barsum took it as encouragement, pulling away and then shoving his head down towards his lap.
“What—” Kolt protested, trying to pull back only to have Barsum tighten his grip on him and push him down harder. The guy looked like a fucking ape, and he was as strong as one too. Even though he braced his hands on Barsum’s fleshy thigh, Kolt soon found his nose pressed against the man’s crotch.
“C’mon, we both know Leandro wouldn’t mind. He whores you out plenty,” Barsum said, twisting Kolt’s braid around his fingers. “And he wants me to be happy, no?” he added with a rough laugh.
Clearly the fucker thought he had it all figured out, but Kolt hadn’t been told to go down on anyone. “No. Let me go!” he snapped, struggling to no avail. The man was too strong, and he didn’t want to have to explain bruises to Leandro — not to mention smelling like Barsum’s spunk.
He wasn’t aware of anyone else, even though there were undoubtedly plenty of people bearing witness to how he was shoved face first into the man’s half-hard cock. He bent his knees just a little to take the strain off of his back and allow him more room to struggle.
In a desperate bid to work himself free of Barsum’s grip, Kolt hit the man’s thigh with both his fists. He didn’t — quite — have the gall to punch him in the dick, but he fucking would if Barsum wouldn’t let him go.
“Costs extra,” Leandro’s favorite grunt spoke up before Kolt could do anything too stupid.
Kolt glanced up, alarmed. It wasn’t even Gideon’s fucking call to make. He was only a glorified bouncer. Plus, it wasn’t like he hadn’t just helped Barsum win a fuckton of money — probably in nothing but rigged games while distracted by Leandro’s incubus, but that was none of his business.
Gideon’s hand was on Barsum’s neck like he was scruffing a kitten. It was kind of hilarious, seeing as how he didn’t have Barsum’s muscle mass, and if the guy wanted, he could make the bouncer’s life pretty miserable.
“What’s the price then?” Barsum asked. “Money’s no object, of course,” he added, ducking away from Gideon’s hand — though he did ease up on the grip he had on Kolt.
Kolt took advantage of Barsum’s distraction and tugged out of his grasp, swiftly straightening back up. “Fuck you, you filthy animal,” he snapped before anyone could answer. “I’m not sucking your anything,” he said defiantly. It was risky to try to get out of the situation by winding the man up and trying to escalate the situation, but he was fairly sure Gideon wouldn’t risk Leandro’s wrath by letting him get hurt.
A vein began to bulge in Barsum’s neck as he stood, and Kolt took a preemptive step back, involuntarily placing Gideon between his own person and Barsum’s steroid-riddled body. There had to be rhino DNA in his system, because upright, it was even more obvious how much bigger he was than Gideon — and Leandro’s bruiser wasn’t exactly a small man either.
Nor was he as stupid as he loo
ked, apparently, because Gideon completely ignored Kolt’s needling.
“Two-fifty,” Gideon said, which was a fair amount higher than usual, but it still wasn’t his call to make.
Kolt bristled.
Gideon had to know he wouldn’t be the one catching shit for any of this anyway. He was Leandro’s favorite. Kolt was an incubus and a slave whose word meant fucking nothing.
“Asshole,” he hissed under his breath. He’d meant Gideon, but he earned himself a dark look from Barsum all the same. The vein became more prominent.
With any luck, Barsum would have an aneurysm then and there and end this prematurely.
Gideon remained cool as a fucking cucumber, adding, “Unless he keeps mouthing off. Then you can just use your cock to shut him up for a little while.”
Kolt couldn’t help but take another cautious step back when Gideon glanced at him, beginning to feel sick to his stomach. This wasn’t fucking fair.
“Fine,” Barsum said, also eying him. Whatever goodwill he might’ve bred in the man had surely gone out the window by calling him a filthy animal.
Kolt said nothing at first, not wanting to give either man reason to think he was mouthing off again. “Fine,” Kolt finally said after several anxious heartbeats of laden tension.
He’d deal with Leandro like he always did. He could suck the guy off and probably be done faster than he could convince Gideon to take pity on him. Because it wouldn’t be mercy. He wasn’t capable of it.
“Why don’t you both drop your trousers, and I’ll get you both done?” Kolt offered, practically cheerfully. He cast Gideon a challenging look. This was probably why Gideon hated him and how he kept getting in deeper shit, but that never stopped him.
“Shut up, Kolt,” Gideon hissed.
The response was practically scripted, and he hadn’t expected any different. It wasn’t like Gideon was actually going to be stupid enough to be caught with his pants down and his cock out on the casino floor. Somehow the guy had managed to hold on to some brain cells despite all the fights the flunky had been in.
“It’ll be added to your tab. You know the rules. You break it, you buy it.”
And didn’t that just sound like a fucking invitation?
Kolt grit his teeth as he watched his knight in shining armor stalk off in the direction of raised voices. Gideon would soon have to start making people leave. He’d like Barsum to be in that crowd, but it meant—
He shuddered but managed to hide it with a swagger of his hips as he stepped forward again. He’d have to put his loathing aside and get Barsum off quickly, then hope like fucking hell he could avoid Leandro until he was cleaned up. He’d need to get every last trace of the blow job and Barsum washed off of him. If even just the smallest tingle of magic lingered…
As soon as he was back within arm’s reach, Barsum grabbed him by his wrist, yanking him forward. He paused, fingering the D-ring on his slave collar.
Kolt didn’t want to think of all the filth that had to be going through his mind.
“He does have fun with you, doesn’t he?” the man asked with a slight rumble in his throat that might’ve been a laugh.
Kolt swallowed once before he just committed, sinking down to his knees next to the man. They didn’t need to speak anymore. He just needed to get this over with.
Barsum spread his legs, evidently not caring that anyone might see. Why would he? Kolt was Leandro’s whore. He probably thought he was winning something here… making some sort of statement and staking a claim all his own.
Kolt couldn’t believe he was actually wishing Leandro would walk in and lose his shit.
He reached for Barsum’s trousers, snapping the button open and tugging the zipper down before folding them aside — no need to ruin a nice suit. He tugged the elastic of the boxers down, taking the half-hard cock out with one hand and resting the other on the man’s knee.
He didn’t want to fucking do this, and he felt irrationally annoyed for a second before he tried to get over it. He leaned in, brushing his lips gently along the significant cock until he reached the very tip.
He flicked his tongue out then, just barely grazing the slit, and like he was a fucking snake charmer, the thing stirred in his hand. A second brush of his tongue, and Barsum already had to shift in his seat. He knew Barsum’s type though, and he nuzzled the side of that cock, running his tongue along the underside of it, which really stirred it to readiness.
This time when he reached the tip, he took it between his lips with gentle suction and — boom! As predicted, two hands grabbed his head, fingers sliding into the intricate braid and holding his head still. The man’s hips jerked, and that cock was shoved further into his mouth. God, he was bland, and predictable. Kolt would rather have Leandro.
Like his wish was being granted, Leandro’s fingers curled around Barsum’s, peeling them back until he had no choice but to let Kolt go or risk the fae breaking his fingers. It was Leandro’s hand that smoothed over Kolt’s braid then, his confident touch that pulled Kolt back.
“On the gambling floor? Really?” Leandro looped one finger in the D-ring Barsum had taken so much interest in, urging Kolt up to his feet and out of Barsum’s range. “There are private rooms, you know.”
Empty words. If the way Leandro drew Kolt against his chest was any indication, he wasn’t going to give Barsum the chance to pull Kolt into one of them. The fae’s hand slid down Kolt’s toned stomach, the touch hot and familiar through the sheer material of the net shirt. Kolt pressed his back against his master’s body as Barsum got to his feet.
“Your guy said I could,” Barsum protested sharply.
“Oh,” Leandro said, nodding in feigned understanding. “My guy said you could.” He leaned in, his breath hot against the side of Kolt’s neck, and the fae nipped the skin.
The hint of teeth sent a sharp shiver down his spine as he tilted his head to give Leandro room. It didn’t hurt, but the spot was tender all the same; Leandro had bitten down on it oh-so-many times before. Like some savage werewolf laying claim, only… a little more civilized.
“So I should let you indulge in my property while I… What? Stand here and watch?” His eyes flicked to the half-hard dick between Barsum’s legs. “Not that there’s much to watch, mind.”
Kolt’s gaze invariably followed Leandro’s down to Barsum’s wilting cock, which was hurriedly put away under the scrutiny of a bigger asshole than Barsum was. The remark was unkind, petty, but unsurprising. It wasn’t like Leandro was much bigger, but obviously Barsum didn’t need to know that. Clearly having a huge fucking cock was in Leandro’s best interest, or something, but that was none of his business either. Kolt rested a hand carefully on the fae’s chest as he wet his lips, feeling a touch breathless given the subject matter of his thoughts.
“Not like he wasn’t keen,” Barsum said, casting him a purposeful look.
“I said no,” Kolt snapped.
“You’re an incubus,” the man answered with a short laugh. “How can you say no?”
He wanted to snarl something nasty, something ugly and personal, but Leandro cut in before his rage could be given voice.
“Because I didn’t tell him he could say yes,” Leandro said, his hand sliding over Kolt’s groin.
Kolt didn’t like that answer, but it effectively shut him up and leashed his fury all in one go. The fact that Leandro’s hand was on his groin was just insult to injury, and he inched away from the touch. It wasn’t effective, not with how tightly he’d pushed himself against Leandro. The twitch of his hips only put a hair’s breadth of space between that hand and the flimsy pleather of the terrible slutty pants.
It wasn’t like the fae to give up quickly, but instead of groping him again, Leandro simply took to toying with the fastening of the pants, sliding along the fabric. It was only a marginal improvement over having his crotch grabbed like it held no value.
But he didn’t dare move again.
Leandro clucked his tongue. “You are one of m
y favorite clients, Barsum, but let’s not forget who owns this particular slave as well as this establishment.”
Wisely, Kolt said nothing, not even when Barsum looked at him directly. Leandro had made himself quite clear.
“I paid,” Barsum said, now beginning to sound like a sulking child.
“You added it to your tab,” the fae corrected. “But seeing as how you’re a favorite, I suppose I should give you a chance. Shall we have a contest, Barsum?” he asked, a wolfish smile briefly crossing his lips — a wolfish smile that Kolt didn’t like the look of at all.
Apprehension welled up in him, and he wished he was a glimmer so he could just fucking go invisible.
“What kind of contest?” Barsum asked.
He sounded a little too eager, given it would be a contest he couldn’t win. If he had a chance, Leandro wouldn’t have suggested it. He was a dick like that.
“There are plenty of options, considering we are in a gambling den,” Leandro replied dryly. “But I suppose the odds are stacked in my favor here.” It was the first genuine and honest thing he’d said that night, undoubtedly, and it felt weirdly unlike his master.
The moment of cognitive dissonance faded quickly as the fae pinched one of his nipples through the mesh of his shirt, hard enough to make him clench his teeth to keep from making a noise.
“We should get these pierced,” he said, as if they were talking about the fucking weather and not his bodily autonomy. Whatever Leandro was cooking up was evidently stimulating, as a demanding kiss was placed on his lips.
He yielded to it, reciprocating it even, because he knew it was what the man wanted...
Leandro went straight back to his conversation with Barsum though, as if he hadn’t just taken a detour through horny-town. “What do you think? A contest between you and my slave? It seems only fair, since he’s the one you want.”
Kolt wasn’t sure who was on the chopping block anymore, him or Barsum. It all felt like a big trap, and even though he hadn’t been asked, he spoke up anyway. “What contest?” he asked with the appropriate amount of apprehension for one of Leandro’s games.