by Piper Scott
“Look at this,” Marcus demanded. He twisted the sleeve back and forth, allowing Lucian to see the clear reservoir at the tip all the way around. It was flooded with translucent, pearly cum. “Look at how you performed for me, fledgling. I’m so proud.”
“M’proud, too,” Lucian mumbled. He wanted nothing more than to curl up under the blankets and sleep for days, but he knew his service wasn’t over yet. Marcus had yet to release him from his handcuffs. “I wanted to make you happy.”
“You’ve made me so happy.” The palm of Marcus’ free hand caressed the flesh of Lucian’s ass, and Lucian closed his eyes and let a lazy smile stretch his lips. “You did such a good job.”
The praise bridged the space between Lucian’s mind and body, allowing him to recover from the disconnect Marcus had driven into him. He focused on the feeling, and bit by bit, the world pieced itself back together. Lucian felt the aching throb in his balls as his body rebelled against the orgasms he’d been forced to endure. He measured the rapid beating of his heart as it slowed back to normal. The click of a key in the locks by his wrists rang in his ears, and the relief of freedom spread like cooling mint through his shoulders. Another series of clicks released his ankles, then a clank marked the moment the spreader bar toppled to the floor. He was still bound to Marcus, his body pulsing around Marcus’ knot as Marcus’ body attempted to breed him, but it didn’t disturb him. Lucian explored the feeling of it with cautious curiosity instead.
An alpha’s knot had always meant the end of a job well done, but tonight, it meant so much more.
It meant the beginning of something new.
Marcus gathered him in his arms, and Lucian allowed him to manipulate his body until they were both stretched out on the bed, wrapped up in each other. Marcus pulled thick blankets over him, the weight and the warmth welcoming. As they laid there, Marcus caressed his body and released the leather suspension cuffs from Lucian’s wrists. Lucian let him, his body too relaxed to do much of anything.
“Tomorrow morning, when we wake up, you will be Lucian again, and I will be Marcus,” Marcus promised. The words were whispered against the back of Lucian’s head, and Lucian shivered. “All I need is one day at a time.”
“That’s what I need, too.” Lucian’s jaw was too heavy, partially locked from sleep, but he managed the words anyway. “Thank you, Master.”
“You’re welcome, fledgling,” Marcus whispered. He kissed the conch of Lucian’s ear and held him closer. “You’re worth it.”
Lucian was starting to believe it, too.
25
Marcus
Coffee dripped into the pot. Eggs fried in a small, greased pan on the stove. Toast popped, and Marcus transferred it to a plate, then shook the burning from his fingertips. Soon enough the bread was buttered, the eggs were plated, and the coffee was poured. Late morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows. It was going to be a gorgeous day.
Plates supported on his arm, cups of coffee in either hand, Marcus headed back to the bedroom and nudged the door open with his hip. Lucian slept, nude, nestled amongst his sheets. Natural light shone in his hair, highlighting the pale white strands. The overnight visit had let his stubble noticeably sprout, shading his jaw. He kept his arms folded beneath him, hugging a pillow to his head like his subconscious was worried it’d escape.
Or maybe, Marcus thought as he deposited a cup of coffee and a plate of breakfast on Lucian’s bedside table, he was unwilling to let it go because of the scent it bore—their scent.
Marcus set his plate and coffee by his side of the bed, then settled in beside Lucian. As the mattress shifted to accommodate Marcus’ weight, Lucian’s shoulders pinched closer to his head. He rolled over, and Marcus took him into his arms and held him loosely.
“G’morning,” Lucian mumbled, still half asleep.
“Good morning, Lucian.” Marcus pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Did you sleep well?”
“You should ask me that after I wake up, because I’m pretty sure I’m still dreaming.” Lucian buried his nose against the crook of Marcus’ neck and huffed a contented sigh. “Is this real? Was last night real?”
“All of it was real,” Marcus promised. “And so is the breakfast and coffee sitting on your bedside table.”
“You just convinced me I’m still dreaming. Are you trying to get me to move in? Because you know what they say about feeding stray animals, right?”
A thrill ran through Marcus at the idea, but he diffused his excitement by snorting with laughter. It was too early to entertain thoughts of cohabitating, even though his heart told him it was the right thing to do. When that day did arrive, Marcus wanted to be sure it was a decision they made together, not one that came from jest.
“If feeding you breakfast means you’ll keep coming back, then I might as well have a menu prepared.” Marcus let his fingers trail down Lucian’s back, savoring the touch of his skin. “I’d like to do this again sometime soon.”
“I’d like that, too.”
If Lucian needed him to move slowly, Marcus would comply. A few shared moments a week were better than cutting contact because he’d pushed too hard, too fast. Marcus had to remind himself that Lucian was a bartender at The Shepherd, not a member. No matter his previous exposure to kink, Lucian was still learning what it meant to be a submissive. Marcus could wait.
And even if he had to compromise and meet Lucian halfway to vanilla, he felt like it would be worth it. In Lucian, he’d found someone he’d never believed existed.
He’d found a lover.
“I’d like to have a serious conversation,” Marcus said, still musing over all that Lucian meant to him. “Are you ready to listen?”
“Yep.” Lucian rolled onto his back and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The separation gave Marcus a little more leeway to think—the closer Lucian was, the harder he found it to focus. “I’m even ready to talk if I need to.”
“Great.” Marcus grinned. The Lucian who’d refused him the first night they’d met was back, and Marcus adored his quirky confidence. “I’ve stated it before, but it was in the middle of play, so I think it bears repeating—I’m serious about you, and I’d like to make this relationship exclusive. Is that something you want, too?”
“Yes.” Lucian’s reply was instant. There was no trace of uncertainty in his voice. “I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t think I could. Everyone else looks dull in comparison.”
Marcus’ mood brightened. “Then there’s something else I need to ask.”
Lucian’s eyes searched his, curious. When he spoke, he did so cautiously. “Okay. What is it?”
“One of my friends from The Shepherd is marrying his submissive in the months to come. The exact date hasn’t been set yet, but I want to bring you with me as my plus one.”
The answer didn’t come as easily this time. Lucian’s lips thinned and he squared his shoulders. Thoughts passed behind his eyes, and when he spoke, he chose his words carefully. “If he’s your friend from The Shepherd, he’s going to know we’re together if I go as your plus one. I don’t want to lose my job.”
“I’m not asking you to quit. Nothing will be said by him, or by any of the other guests.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Marcus met Lucian’s eyes, promising what he said in the intensity of his gaze. “You don’t need to worry.”
“Then I’ll go.” One corner of Lucian’s mouth twitched upward, hinting at trouble Marcus rarely saw in him. The look was electrifying. “But I don’t have a suit to wear. I think that maybe you should take me out shopping, and you can play dress-up with me. What do you think?”
Heated quickies in the changing room. Mild public play where no one would know any better about the forbidden nature of their relationship. The thrill of exhibition.
It didn’t take Marcus more than a second to say yes.
The rest of the week passed in a flurry of activity. In the window of time between when Marcus finished work at the f
irm and Lucian started work at The Shepherd, they fell into bed together more often than not. Lucian sought him out now, sure enough of his place to ask to be dominated. Marcus provided every time.
On Friday evening, not half an hour after Lucian had left the condo on wobbling legs to start his shift, Marcus’s phone chimed to let him know he’d received an email. Nude and relaxing in bed as his knot continued to recede, Marcus opened it. It was a message from his partner, Eric. They’d landed the case, and Eric had sent along the details.
Very few evils shocked Marcus anymore. He opened the attachment and read through the information contained, prepared for the worst. If the client was willing to spend seven figures to get the best legal defense during the appeal process, he had to have done something very wrong.
Marcus thumbed through the documents briefly, giving them little more than a cursory glance to get a feel for what he’d start to tackle on Monday. Human trafficking. Coercion and enticement. Child endangerment… the list went on. Whoever he was, this Garrison Baylor had certainly dug himself into a deep hole.
Marcus continued to scroll, weaving together the details of his new client’s alleged crimes, when a name caught his eye and made him stop. Marcus narrowed his eyes, then he scrolled back up to check the heading to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood.
He hadn’t.
Nausea struck hard and almost incapacitated him as he read on.
Omegas reclaimed from the defendant’s illegal prostitution ring claim the defendant would often bring on new omega ‘talent’ as young as sixteen years old to service clients in questionable conditions. One such recovered omega, Lucian Bracknell, has stated under oath that the defendant seduced him over a period of two months at age sixteen, during which time he was transported to the defendant’s place of operation and forced into prostitution for the next four years. According to Bracknell’s testimony, the defendant continued to proposition him for sex regularly and held Bracknell captive long after he’d expressed desire to leave the establishment.
No.
No.
Marcus swung his legs over the edge of the bed, phone glued to his hand. He rose, disoriented and startled, as his protective instincts kicked into overdrive. All the little pieces of the puzzle started to fit together. The dead look in Lucian’s eyes in the alley when he’d moved so mechanically, utilizing his body for Marcus’ benefit, now sickened him. The way Lucian had run from him that night Marcus had tried to move their power dynamic into a full-time affair now broke Marcus’ heart in half. All the sorrow in Lucian’s eyes and his lack of comprehension about true pleasure was no longer due to the influence of a selfish Dom—it had been brought on by a heinous individual who’d twisted Lucian’s mind and forced him into slavery against his will.
Self-hatred roiled alongside Marcus’ nausea. As his world fell into pieces, he closed the email and opened his contact list instead. Seconds later, Marcus had the phone to his ear, waiting for his call to connect.
Eric answered. “Marcus? What’s happening?”
“We can’t take the case,” Marcus said. It didn’t matter how much money they lost—Marcus would not defend the man who’d hurt his lover so deeply, nor would he have anyone on his legal team stand at that man’s defense. “It’s a conflict of interest, and I’ll be damned if anyone from our firm attempts to tackle the case in my stead. We’re rejecting it. The deal is off.”
“Are you insane?” Eric’s disbelief eroded the patience Marcus had left. “A conflict of interest? What the hell have you been hiding? You’re not saying that you used to visit The White Lotus, are you?”
If Marcus had better control of himself in the moment, he would have cut Eric off before he asked the question, but his anger boiled so hot that it sealed his lips shut as his brain misfired and fried. When he did speak, his words were venom.
“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t ask me that question. I’m going to pretend that all you did was agree with me and leave it at that.” Marcus stalked across the room to pull open his closet. He tossed a shirt onto his bed as he spoke. “You will end the contract. You will not distribute it to anyone else in the firm. If I find that you’ve done so, we will have more than words, Eric. Do you understand me?”
“Jesus, Marcus, calm down.”
“I will not be told what to do.” The darkest corners of Marcus’ conscience inched forward, seeping into his every thought and edging his every word. Eric would listen. Marcus would not accept anything less. “You will do as I say. If you do, there won’t be a problem.”
“You sound like you’re going to kill someone.”
Marcus pulled a pair of boxer-briefs from his dresser drawer. He stepped into them. “If circumstances were different, I might, but someone needs me right now. I will not betray him.”
“We’ll talk about this on Monday.” Eric kept his voice calm and soothing, but it was of little use. He couldn’t smooth over the situation. He would never be able to. “You need to take it easy this weekend. I’ll pencil you in around one, and we’ll sit down and talk this through, okay?”
“No.” Marcus tugged on a pair of pants, then grabbed his shirt from the bed and left the bedroom. “My decision is final and will not change given time. Turn him down.”
“I—”
“Goodbye, Eric.” Marcus ended the call. There were more important things to do than argue with a man who would never understand.
Like take care of the man who understood all too well.
26
Lucian
The accusation came suddenly, but the second Lucian heard it, he knew it was directed at him. Despite the dull roar of The Shepherd’s dance floor beats, the voice cut through directly to Lucian’s ear.
“I know that you’ve been sleeping with him.”
A chill ran down Lucian’s spine, and he turned from the back counter he was scrubbing to face the source of the statement. A familiar face sat on the bar stool across from him—Adrian.
Both arms folded on the counter, still fully dressed, Adrian looked him directly in the eye and did not back down.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you’re—”
“Don’t play stupid.” Adrian glanced down the counter where Clarissa was serving a few clients. The Shepherd had just opened so the crowds were thin. It allowed Adrian to corner him. “I know what you’ve been doing.”
Adrian cast another glance at Clarissa, then took something from his pocket and slid it across the table, masking it with his palm. Fingers cupped, he lifted his palm and used it as a shield to block Clarissa from accidentally seeing what was going on.
There was a cellphone on the table.
Absolutely no recording devices were allowed inside The Shepherd at any point in time.
“What the hell are you doing?” Lucian hissed. “If you don’t—”
Adrian turned the screen on, and Lucian shut right up. On the screen was an image of Lucian on his knees in front of Marcus. The picture had been taken from far enough away that the details were hard to make out, but Marcus’ sagging pants spoke louder than impeccable quality ever could.
Lucian blanched.
On the night of the thunderstorm, the flash of a camera had blended in with the lightning. There was no telling how many pictures Adrian had snapped of him on his knees, sucking Marcus off.
“I’ve been sitting on this for a while now,” Adrian admitted. He slid the phone back into his pocket and leaned forward, eliminating some of the distance between them. Lucian knew what was coming, and it made him feel sick. “I thought maybe he was paying you for sex and it was a one-time deal, but the last few days, you’ve been showing up reeking of him. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
Lucian’s cheeks heated.
“Staff isn’t supposed to play.” Adrian spoke low, his voice sharpened with threat. “You know it and he knows it. I know it, too. Do you think that Sterling knows it?”
“No.” Lucian mouthed.
“You don’t think Sterli
ng knows his staff isn’t supposed to be playing with club members?” Adrian asked. His eyes had sharpened into slits. “Do you think I should go tell him right now? You don’t need that bartending job of yours when you’re getting paid to suck dick, do you?”
“No.” Lucian’s voice shook. He glanced desperately at Clarissa, but she was too busy to notice what was going on. Lucian leaned across the counter until only a few inches separated his face from Adrian’s. His heart clogged his throat, and when he spoke, his words were hoarse with its impact. “That’s not what I mean. I mean, don’t go to Sterling. You don’t need to tell anyone at all.”
“Of course I don’t need to, but I want to.” Adrian arched a brow, meeting Lucian’s eyes. There was no sympathy in his gaze. “And do you know why? It’s because it pisses me the hell off that men like Marcus ignore available, interested men like me for forbidden, slutty fruit. I’m sick of it. So I’m going to go to Sterling and I’m going to let him know what kind of game you’ve been playing. But don’t worry.” Adrian’s eyes flashed. “Do you know why Clarissa only hires omegas? It’s so that when they inevitably open their legs and put out like they’ve been told not to do, Sterling can swoop in and offer them a plea deal. Maybe you’ll lose your job, but if you bat your eyelashes and pout your lips, Sterling might let you join his harem. I hear he takes astounding care of his boys.”
“Please don’t do this.” Fear billowed through Lucian’s chest, diffusing far too quickly. He couldn’t lose his job. Not now. He barely had two months’ experience. Nowhere else would hire him if it looked like he couldn’t commit himself. “You don’t have to do this.”
“And you don’t have to see Marcus ever again. Do you understand?” Adrian stood, but he kept his eyes locked on Lucian’s. “I have an album full of pictures to share with a certain someone, and I will share them if I have reason to believe that you’re still doing what you’re not supposed to be doing.”