by Piper Scott
Lucian drew in a breath. “I’ve been seeing someone.”
“I knew it.” Clarissa laughed. “Well, I’m glad you came to me about it. You’ve been so down at work lately that it’s been tearing me up inside. You had this look in your eyes all weekend like someone ran over your puppy. So, what happened? What can I do to help you through it?”
“I think I just need to talk, if that’s okay.” Lucian tented his knees and dug his toes into the gap between the cushions of his couch. “It’s been eating at me, and I don’t really have any friends outside of work to talk to, so…”
“Lucian.” Clarissa spoke plainly. “I’m your boss, but I like to think that I’m also your friend. We’re a family at The Shepherd, right?”
“Right.” Lucian pushed his toes deeper. “But I still feel kind of bad cutting into your time off to vent about my problems.”
“You don’t need to. My life is boring.” Clarissa laughed dryly. “I’d rather hear about you than swap out laundry.”
“As long as you’re sure.” Lucian shook the last of his fear free. If he didn’t do something, he’d always feel miserable. “I, um, I think I made a mistake this weekend, and I don’t know if I can fix it.”
“What happened?”
He considered how to best broach the subject. Clarissa couldn’t know about Marcus, and he couldn’t give her so much as an inkling that something was going on between them. Some of the topics he wanted to talk about were off the table.
He’d have to generalize.
“I went back to his place for the first time on Friday, after work. I think it got too real for me, and I left him when he was sleeping.”
“Ah, now that shortcut you’ve been taking home makes sense.” He heard the intrigue in Clarissa’s voice. “Well, I mean, did you let him know what happened, or did you just ghost him?”
“I ghosted him.” Lucian smoothed his hair back, already feeling the need to fidget. “He talked about making things serious between us, because we’ve kind of been fooling around for a while now, but I don’t think I’m… ready. I melted down and I ran.”
All of it sounded hollow without context. Clarissa knew small things about his past, but she didn’t understand the way those events stuck with him. Not even Lucian knew the full extent of his damage. He was still navigating independence, figuring it out one step at a time.
He couldn’t tell her that he was afraid of being owned by a man, even if it was only play.
“Hmm,” Clarissa mused. “What happened to the Lucian who walked into The Shepherd with his head held high, determined to reclaim what was taken from him?”
Lucian pulled his feet back and let his legs sink onto the couch. He stared at the ceiling. Someone was moving furniture in the apartment above his.
Clarissa hummed like she was considering something, then spoke again. “It’s okay to feel like you can’t manage. Everyone feels that way sometimes, no matter their background. Sometimes life is hard and change is scary.”
“I guess my problem is, I don’t know how to fix what I ruined.” Lucian rubbed his feet together, then crossed his legs at the ankles. “He hasn’t tried to reach out to me at all. I think he’s upset with me. I mean, after what I did, I would be upset with me, too. I don’t blame him.”
“Well…” Clarissa trailed off, thoughtful. “I guess if he’s not talking to you, it’s going to be up to you to make things right, isn’t it?”
Lucian’s lips parted, and the words were halfway across his tongue when they stopped. She was right and he knew it, but it didn’t make the concept any less terrifying. He had to apologize to the man he’d called Master. There was fear in that. It made him want to shrink away and hang his head in shame.
“Talk to him in person,” Clarissa recommended. “Make sure you do it face to face so he can hear your tone as well as read your body language. If you’re sorry, he’ll be able to see it. Plus, you get the added benefit of the whole sincerity thing. People don’t apologize in person if they don’t mean it.”
“That helps. Thank you.”
“Glad to be of assistance.” Affection softened her words. “You know that means I’m going to be bugging you for updates, right?”
“I know.” Lucian suppressed a grin. “I figured. But I needed to talk to someone.”
“The best person to talk to is him.” Lucian imagined the smile on her face. “I’ll see you at work on Wednesday? We can talk about it more then.”
“Of course. Thank you for listening.”
“Any time.”
The conversation concluded. After their goodbyes, Lucian hung up the phone.
On Friday, he’d meet up with Marcus like usual and explain what had happened. If that meant coming clean about his past, he’d do it. It had come to a point where he had a choice to make—he could either keep Marcus in the dark and lose him, or he could let him in and hope that he would understand.
Lucian dropped his phone onto his chest and laid on the couch for a while longer, processing the thought. The illusion would die. He’d no longer be the young man working the bar, but the ex-prostitute trying to reclaim his life.
But maybe that was for the best.
Lucian liked Marcus as more than just a Friday fling, and it was clear that Marcus had once liked him in the same way. If they could go back to that, and if he could open up about his less than spotless past, it would be worth it.
Marcus was worth it.
Lucian only hoped that wouldn’t change when the truth came out.
Marcus didn’t show up on Friday night.
Wound up and nervous, Lucian kept his eye on the stairway as best he could, both eager and fearful to see the man he had so much to tell. The longer the night wore on, the more Lucian’s confidence waned. By the time Clarissa announced last call, he was crushed.
What did he think would happen? That Marcus would waltz in, sit in booth five, and make eyes at him all night like he’d used to? For the length of Lucian’s employment, he’d never seen Marcus entertain another man. Marcus was coming in to see him, and after what Lucian had done?
He didn’t think Marcus was too keen on his Friday night visits anymore.
The evening wore down. Club security made their final sweep, making sure the guests had left. Lucian washed down the tables and put up the chairs while Clarissa brought the rest of their dishes down to the kitchen. By the time he was done, she’d arrived back upstairs.
“I’ll close the cash and take care of the reports. The floor’s good to go for tomorrow?”
“Yep.” Lucian spoke with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, but not even that felt like enough. “Anything else I can do?”
“You can go home and enjoy the rest of your morning,” Clarissa said with a wink. “Thanks for all your help today. You did great.”
“It was a good night,” Lucian said, only partially meaning it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Catch ya later!”
Lucian took the stairs two at a time, eager to get away. He crossed the empty dance floor and navigated the lobby. The front door opened with the push of a palm, and Lucian let himself out. The door clicked closed behind him, locking in place.
Most Friday nights, Lucian went straight to the alley to meet with Marcus. Tonight, he doubted there would be anyone there, but his feet led the way regardless. Lucian crossed his arms over his chest as he stepped into the dark alcove they’d visited every Friday night, letting the shadows bathe him. The loneliness was crushing.
He was about to turn around when a stern hand tightened around his shoulder and tugged him forward. Lucian stumbled to catch his footing, but before he fell, he hit something firm and warm. A familiar scent flooded his nostrils.
Marcus.
“You didn’t come tonight,” Lucian whispered, his fingers hooking loosely into the front of Marcus’ shirt.
“I didn’t feel much like partying.”
Lucian bowed his head. He knew why. “I’m sorry. I—”
“I don’t want you to explain yourself.” Marcus’ hands guided him back until he was pressed against the wall. The pressure wasn’t unkind, but Lucian knew that he wouldn’t be able to break away unless he exerted himself. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I’ve accepted what happened. If you’re here tonight, it means that you regret what you did. That’s enough for me.”
A burning uncertainty engulfed Lucian’s heart, exposing it to fire he wasn’t sure he could extinguish. A very large part of him wanted to let his confession go. The temptation to leave his past behind stoked those flames and drowned out the voice in his head that begged him to tell Marcus the truth.
“What I want from you now is simple,” Marcus said. His hand slid from Lucian’s shoulder down his arm, stroking it. “We need to discuss what your comfort levels are and how far you’re willing to take this. I’m willing to compromise if it means that you’ll stay in my life.”
“I don’t have an answer for you,” Lucian admitted. Gingerly, he rested his head against Marcus’ shoulder. “I just… the idea of being owned got to me. I don’t know if I’m ready for that, or if I’ll ever be ready for that. Not on a full-time basis.”
There was silence. Lucian closed his eyes, wondering if his confession would end what he shared with Marcus.
When Marcus didn’t reply, Lucian continued.
“I loved what we did last week, but when you talked about making it real, I… I couldn’t.”
“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Marcus said. Lucian opened his eyes as Marcus’ hand cupped his jaw. He rubbed a thumb across Lucian’s cheek. “I am devoted to your pleasure. I never want you to forget that.”
“I still want to play,” Lucian murmured. He nuzzled against Marcus’ hand. “I don’t want to give you up. I just need… some time, you know? Time to adjust.”
“What have I told you, fledgling?” Marcus’ voice was brightened with laughter. His lips found Lucian’s, and a single, fleeting kiss stole Lucian’s anxiety away. When Marcus spoke again, he did so against Lucian’s earlobe. “You don’t need to explain yourself. You don’t have to apologize for retracting your consent. What I want more than anything is to find the things that will make you happy, and if I pushed you too far, I am the one who needs to apologize.”
“You’re not angry?”
“I was. But what good is anger when you’re the one who was wrong? You can be angry all you want and nothing will change. It’s not until you look at the root of your anger and accept whatever hard truths you find that there is potential for growth.”
“Then…” Lucian’s heart throbbed, overcome by the maturity and levelheadedness of what Marcus had said. “Then if I don’t know, we can use a safe word, right? And if it goes too far, I can use it to tell you to stop.”
“Of course.”
“And you’ll stop?” Lucian asked. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. The idea that an alpha would respect his boundaries, even in the heat of the moment, was new and frightening. Lucian wasn’t sure he could trust it to happen. “If I tell you to, even if you’re into it, you’ll check in with me to see what I need?”
“Of course I will.” Marcus’ arms closed around him, holding him loosely. Lucian clung to him with much more urgency, unable to let himself relax. All of it was new ground, and he was afraid that a single misstep would lead him into a land mine. “You don’t need to run. You don’t need to fear me. I will never punish you for feeling uncomfortable or for changing your mind. If you’re not having fun, there’s no point in playing, is there? Sex is about mutuality. If you’re not enjoying it, all I’m doing is masturbating, and I would rather do that on my own than hurt you by making you do it for me.”
There was no hint that what Marcus said was insincere. He spoke evenly and plainly, enough conviction behind his words that Lucian couldn’t doubt them. Hope sprung in Lucian’s stomach, guilty at first, but more confident in itself the longer he thought about what Marcus had said.
One false start didn’t mean the end. Marcus was mature enough to understand Lucian’s struggles, even when the root causes were unknown to him. It was a kind of levelheadedness Lucian had never come across before, and he respected it more than he knew how to express.
The stale air in his lungs was expelled. With a sigh, Lucian slumped against Marcus’ chest, and Marcus’ arms tightened around him.
“I know that this isn’t like what you went through before, but I want you to know that I am serious about you, Lucian. I don’t ever want you to think that I would do something to hurt you.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” Lucian’s fingers slipped from Marcus’s shirt. He wove his arms around Marcus’ waist instead. “I trust you.”
“And I trust you. As long as you tell me what you need, I will provide it for you. Always.”
“I need you,” Lucian whispered, unwilling to let Marcus go. “I need you so badly.”
“Then you’ll have me,” Marcus promised. “What’s mine will never have to beg.”
23
Marcus
Safe beyond the threshold of Marcus’ condo, there was nothing hurried in the way he undid the buttons of Lucian’s shirt. One by one they fell, revealing a flat, modestly-toned chest. Marcus traced the edges of Lucian’s body with his fingers, allowing himself to appreciate the softness of his skin.
His omega was beautiful. Marcus refused to lose him again.
Lucian’s head fell to the side, exposing the curve of his neck. As Marcus’ fingers worked to undo the last of his buttons, he kissed the most vulnerable spots on Lucian’s neck.
“Tonight, if it’s too much for you…” Marcus’ teeth nipped at the skin he lavished with affection. “All you need to say is ‘red’ and I’ll stop. It doesn’t matter how little it is, or how into it you think I am.”
“Okay,” Lucian whispered. The sound had no substance, but it was the promise that Marcus needed. He never wanted to hurt Lucian again.
Marcus guided the shirt from Lucian’s shoulders. It pooled on the living room floor, forgotten. Lucian’s pants came next, slipping down his thighs to reveal plain gray boxer-briefs. Marcus missed the lace, but he understood. After what they’d been through, he hadn’t been sure if Lucian would want to be his again. The lace meant nothing compared to the man Marcus now held.
Marcus traced the line of Lucian’s elastic waistband, watching Lucian’s body language for signs of discomfort. When he worked his thumb beneath the band, Lucian shivered.
There wasn’t a prettier sight in the world.
“Do you know how stunning you are, fledgling?” Marcus asked. He worked the elastic downward at an agonizing crawl, intending to tantalize Lucian, but he only succeeded in tormenting himself instead. The rigid outline of Lucian’s cock pressed against the front of his boxer-briefs, and the scent of omega was stronger in the air than it had been before. Marcus took it as a sign that Lucian was comfortable. “Do you know the things you do to me?”
“No, Master,” Lucian whispered. The switch between their public and private personas was seamless.
Lucian was fledgling now, and Marcus his Master.
“The lines of your body. The sound of your voice. The scent you make… every little thing about you draws me in and refuses to let me go. I can’t get enough of you.”
Another shiver shook Lucian’s spine. The movement was almost imperceptible, but Marcus was so highly attuned to him that he couldn’t miss it.
Lucian was his.
The band of Lucian’s elastic inched downward. Marcus uncovered the tip of his cock, letting it peek through. The glossy pink head looked good contrasted against gray cotton, but Marcus thought it would look better when it was left bare.
“I don’t want you in clothes.” Marcus guided the elastic band down, letting it pass over Lucian’s shaft. The more he saw, the more aroused he became. Lucian was hard and ready for him, eager for his touch despite the difficulties they’d been through. “I don’t want you in any
thing that would block me from seeing you again.”
The boxer-briefs passed over Lucian’s balls, exposing them. They met Lucian’s thighs, then fell.
Lucian was naked.
Marcus glanced over his body, allowing his eyes to linger where they pleased. Lucian didn’t cower, and he didn’t try to hide himself. There was no shame in his nudity.
Marcus found strength like that admirable.
“Come with me,” Marcus said. He took Lucian’s hand, guiding him from the clothing he’d been stripped of. They moved together through the living room, dodging the high-back armchair and the edge of the couch. The hallway was dark, and light from the living room provided only partial visibility. Marcus led the way and pushed the bedroom door open with his palm, then flicked the light on. The bedroom was revealed, no longer so lonely now that Lucian was back in it.
Lucian followed him through the door and headed for the bed, but Marcus took him by the wrist before he could get that far.
“Not yet,” Marcus told him. “I want something else first.”
Lucian looked up at him, eyes brilliant beneath the bedroom light. His gaze searched for meaning, but his mouth stayed shut, not daring to speak the question on his mind.
He didn’t need to speak it—Marcus already knew what it was.
“Do you remember our first time behind The Shepherd?” Marcus asked. His hand glided up Lucian’s arm, savoring his bare skin.
“I do.” Lucian bowed his head, but his curious gaze stuck to Marcus.
“Do you remember how I released you? How I got you to let go and just feel?” Marcus’ hand met the back of Lucian’s neck, and with a gentle touch he directed him forward.
“Yes.”
“I want to do the same for you tonight,” Marcus said. “I want to take away everything you have so you can truly let yourself be free. Is that okay?”
Lucian’s eyelids drooped, and he lifted his head to meet Marcus’ eyes. Lips parted with lust, he nodded.
“Then I need you to stay still and trust me,” Marcus said. He let his hand drop and took a step away from Lucian, driving distance between them. “I need you to remember that I will never hurt what is mine.”