Letting out a rough breath, Noah inclined his head. “Good to know. I like you.”
“Right back atcha, man.” Blain’s lips slanted. “And I’ve been around long enough to know you make a much better friend. You need to talk, hit me up, got it?”
Noah blinked at him. That was...a strange thing to say. He didn’t think anyone had ever made that offer to him before. Except his mother, when he was a kid, frustrated that his father wasn’t around when he needed him. The need to ‘talk’ seemed almost childish, but at the same time, he liked it when his subs, or those he cared for, came to him.
How damaged am I that I don’t know how to have a friend that I’m not fucking?
He laughed at himself and shook his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He jutted his chin at the bondage frame. “Would you mind bringing my toy bag? We’ll be doing sensory deprivation and some impact play. Club safewords.”
Blain grinned and shot Jamie a wink. “On it.”
“Do I want to know what those things mean?” Jamie looked over the frame, hugging himself. “Or what this is for?”
“Jamie…” Noah wrapped his arms around his sub, sensing the boy retreating into himself the longer they were in the dungeon. Most of the submissives he’d brought here would’ve gone into the peaceful zone of eager anticipation. All Jamie had from this place was the memory of being dragged up here by Doc, no clue what would happen next.
And what had happened left an impression.
He turned Jamie in his arms to face him, then and tipped his chin up. “You will not be punished tonight, do you hear me? No one else will touch you, ever, without my permission. And if I give them it, it’s because I trust them. And I don’t trust many.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” Noah cupped Jamie’s cheek and gave him a soft kiss. “You’re honest with your needs and your feelings. That’s why we’re here. Because of that trust, I know you’ll tell me if you’re overwhelmed.”
“Okay.” Jamie breathed in slowly. “I trust you, too.”
“That’s my good boy.” Noah took the heavy leather bag from Blain with a nod of thanks, keeping his focus on Jamie. “You were humiliated here and being observed might be difficult for you. I want you to be able to let go. To feel.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at his feet. The world narrowed to his boy as he gracefully knelt. “Look at me. I want you to see nothing else going forward. Your Dom, completely in control of every sensation. I will help you block out everything else.”
Unzipping his bag, he pulled out a leather sensory deprivation hood. The thing could be intimidating to someone so new, but Jamie’s gaze held interest as he looked it over. There were straps to remove the eye and mouth covers, sound blocking built-in, and ties on along the back to adjust it for a perfect fit.
“I’ll remove the mouth cover so you can safeword—this was in the rules we went over. ‘Red’ and everything stops. And you can breathe through your nose and mouth. You will not be able to see or hear.” He undid the ties, holding it up as Jamie bowed his head. “But I’ll be close, no matter what.”
At Jamie’s nod, Noah placed the hood, stepping behind him to tie it so it was snug, adding to the restriction he’d be feeling during the scene. He pulled Jamie’s shirt over his head, then removed his shoes, his jeans, and his boxers. The undressing would ease Jamie into the zone of complete surrender, his naked skin even more exposed when he didn’t know who was watching him.
Or what would come next.
Which were the cuffs, and Jamie’s muscles relaxed as each on was clipped on. Wrists, then ankles. He’d done this part often enough that the familiarity would soothe him. Noah had found some interesting attachments on his bed frame to use over the past weeks. Custom-made—likely by Curtis himself—the whole thing was a Dom’s fucking wet dream. Even half asleep he could restrain Jamie. Leave him tied up comfortably while they both dozed off to use him again once he was rested without breaking that exquisite helplessness a sub could reach when things became almost too real. As though there was no escape. Nothing but his body, available for whatever Noah wanted to do to him.
This scene would take that to the next level. Lifting Jamie’s hands, one after the other, over his head, Noah clipped the restraints to either corner of the frame, then did the same with his ankles, until his little cat was facing away from him, completely exposed.
He wouldn’t have Noah’s voice to reassure him. His trust needed to be absolute.
But over time, he’d proven that it was. Noah brushed his fingers down Jamie’s spine. Over his ass. A touch meant to prepare him. As he pulled out his favorite flogger, he studied Jamie’s position. His hands were relaxed. His feet were flat on the ground. He was showing Noah, without saying anything, that he was ready.
The first strike was a gentle caress. Jami tensed, then inhaled noisily. Took the next one with ease. As Noah continued, letting himself drift into the steady flow, Jamie’s breaths matched his own. The falls came down harder and Jamie let out a soft moan. Between the hood and the restraints, he’d been well on his way to taking in every sensation as a gift. Which would turn the pain into pleasure so fast he wouldn’t know the difference.
Over Jamie’s shoulders, down his back, then to his ass and thighs, Noah painted him with every stroke, wishing he had a brush in his hand so he could capture the beauty of his boy, pale skin marked up, bright red, shifting and gasping, leaning back to receive the falls as though each one brought him closer to whatever he was looking for.
Noah’s dick hardened as Jamie’s ass clenched. He undid his leathers, plucking a condom and some lube from his bag, since both were required in the dungeon. He rolled on the condom and pressed his eyes shut as he spread the lube. There were eyes on him as he approached his boy, but he ignored them. Let them watch. As much as Jamie’s submission might be questioned, few could find this kind of surrender with anyone. It was pure. Absolute.
And Noah wouldn’t trade it for the most well-behaved, performative submissive in the world.
He stepped up behind Jamie and kissed his shoulder. Pressed into him and filled him, grasping onto his hips as he took him hard. Crying out, Jamie had nothing to cling to. No way to press back. Nothing to do but accept what Noah gave him.
Which was everything.
Harder, faster, he fucked Jamie, his fingers gripping his hips hard enough to leave bruises that would contrast nicely with the red marks from the flogger as both began to fade. He drew out and worked the tight ring of muscle with the head of his dick, watching Jamie open for him, over and over, any attempt he made to keep quiet lost as he screamed Noah’s name and came, trembling and jerking in Noah’s arms as Noah slammed in and joined him.
Holding Jamie in his arms, Noah inhaled his sweet scent, tipping his hips forward one last time before easing away. After making quick work of disposing of the condom and straightening his leathers, he put his full attention on tending to Jamie. He used a wet wipe from his bag, an unopened package that had been added at some point and was nice and fresh, to wipe Jamie down. Unclipped his restraints, then carried him to a nearby seating area and settled in, letting him curl up in his lap.
Once his breaths slowed, Noah removed the hood. Kissed Jamie’s forehead.
“Look at me, little cat.” Noah tipped Jamie’s chin up when his eyes couldn’t seem to focus. “Where are we?”
“Green. Pretty green.” Jamie’s head rested on his shoulder. “It’s green, right? Red would be bad. No red. Maybe purple. That’s pretty.”
Noah grinned and smoothed his hand up and down Jamie’s arm, mouthing his thanks to Blain when the man brought one of the club’s heavy black robes and spread it over Jamie with a fond look in his eyes. Noah had hardly noticed him, but the man had paid close attention to every reaction. He would never make Jamie doubt the purity of his submission. He’d likely watch out for Noah’s boy the rare times he was here.
Not that Noah would rely on anyone else, but it was fucking nice to have at least on
e person on Jamie’s side.
Before Jamie had fully come to, Noah picked him up and carried him up to his loft. He was grateful that the halls were clear. He didn’t have to see anyone else. Think of anything beyond this moment.
His boy. Who would wake with one less barrier. Safe.
Loved.
Damn it, Noah didn’t give a fuck how messed up everything else was. He loved this man. And like everyone else he’d ever loved, he’d let him go when the time came. But…
Not. Yet.
Chapter Thirteen
Brick and iron framed Jamie’s world, the night sky a stretch of black that caught the curling smoke of his exhaled breaths. Head tilted back, he watched the red blinking light of an airplane moving across the star-studded expanse and nestled deeper into Noah’s coat. Wool wrapped around him like the man’s arms in a warm embrace, surrounding him with his Dom’s scent. Earbuds in, he rolled his head, languid, one foot tapping to the hypnotically slow guitar of Bother. Ezran had turned him on to Stone Sour while they’d been hanging out in Curits’s loft playing a video game a few weeks back.
The song’s quiet guitar and the hum of the lead singer’s voice blissed him out, the dark notes reminding him of Noah’s fingers on his skin. Memories of their interlude in the dungeon on Friday night played over and over as he listened, select moments that the song amplified feeding the moments back to him. Sounds of his own breathing inside the hood’s darkness, the grip of the cuffs on his wrists and ankles. How his body seemed to float in the frame, every slap of the flogger connecting him to Noah. He’d floated in a blissed-out void that he thought he’d never want to leave...
Until Noah fucking him shattered the illusion, raking him over the razor’s edge of his desire.
Reaching between woolen folds of fabric, Jamie pressed his fingertips against the bruises at his hip. His dick pulsed, awakening to the touch, those tender spots a direct connection to his Dom. Slipping underneath the drawstring of his sweats, he—
“Ezran!”
Jamie yanked his hands out of his pants, instinctively drawing back into the fire escape’s darker shadows.
Below, Curtis trailed Ezran, who’d reached the security fence. The boom of Ezran’s booted heel against the fence resounded, fracturing the quiet. Taking out his earbuds, Jamie tilted his head to look up at the door behind him. If he stood, the security light would go on and reveal his position.
He bit his lip as Curtis slid his arm around Ezran’s shoulders, speaking to him quietly, coaxing him back to the building.
“Come on, my dude. Let’s talk it out, yeah?"
“I don’t fucking want to talk. All I do is talk and nothing fucking gets better.” Choking back a sob, Ezran shoved Curtis away. Fisted his hands in his own hair. "I wish I were fucking dead. Then I wouldn’t have to talk."
Frozen in place, Jamie didn’t dare move. Or breathe. He shouldn’t be hearing any of this.
Taking off his leather jacket, Curtis wrapped it around Ezran’s shoulders. “We can stay out here. You don’t have to go back inside.”
Ezran shook his head in denial but paced to the bottom step of the fire escape and sat. Tucking his knees up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them. Forehead on his knees, he was quiet for a long time. Curtis’s white Henley ghosted the pavement, his hand idly running through the fall of Ezran’s dark bangs.
“Why didn’t he just stay away if he was going to turn into an asshole?” Ezran lifted his head. “I wish Lawson had fucking fed him his own dick.”
Jamie frowned.
Are they talking about Noah?
“He needs time to adjust.” Curtis stared out over the parking lot toward the fuel tanks that lurked in the shadows at the far end.
“To what?” Tilting his face up, Ezran scowled at Curtis. “He acts like he wishes he was still there. Like I don’t even exist.”
Head bowed, Ezran’s breaths were audible in the quiet night. Curtis didn’t say anything, just moved his hand to Ezran’s shoulder and continued the gentle stroking.
“Did you tell him?” Voice muffled, Ezran spoke into his knees, then lifted his head, cheeks glistening. “Did you tell him? Is that why he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me?”
“Jesus. No. Ez.” Dropping down onto the bottom fire escape stair, Curtis wrapped an arm around Ezran’s shoulders.
“Because you knew he’d be disgusted that I didn’t defend myself? That I just took it like an animal over that fucking table and let Mitch—“
“Hey, hey, hey…” Voice soothing, Curtis wrapped both arms around Ezran, his chin on top of Ezran’s head.
Jamie bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. Fists clenched inside the sleeves of Noah’s coat, he huddled in on himself and wished he could go down and comfort the kid himself.
Whoever this Mitch guy is deserves to be castrated with a dull knife.
“Noah doesn’t know because you asked me not to tell anyone. That’s the only reason.” Curtis’s breath puffed outward with his sigh, disappearing into the night. “And you endured something someone twice your age would struggle with. It wasn’t fair and your anger is justified.”
Ezran’s sharp laugh rent air. “I didn’t endure it. I had a fucking gun in my mouth. World’s first full-metal blowjob queen."
Curtis’s hold tightened, jerking Ezran close, his jaw working as he swallowed audibly. “I’m so sorry, so, so sorry. I would do anything—“
“But you can’t. You can’t fucking do anything.” Pulling out of Curtis's arms, Ezran stood and swiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I’m going inside.”
Nausea roiled in Jamie’s stomach. He bit his lip harder in a bid not to retch as Curtis shot to his feet, rounding on the brick wall with a wild punch. Then another, and another, cursing as he beat his fists, leaving them a bloody mess that would fucking hurt once he came down.
After Curtis went inside, Jamie stood on shaky legs. Inside the third floor hallway, the lights were bright. Too harsh after the cushioned darkness. Unsteady steps took him to the fourth floor. Into Noah’s loft. Warmth spilled from the fireplace, not quite reaching him. Wren’s classical music played over the sound system. Jamie took off Noah’s coat, leaving it on the couch arm, his boots coming after. Shirt next. A trail of clothes all the way to the bedroom. Completely raw, Jamie could only obey the spirit of Noah’s ‘no clothes in the bedroom’ rule. After weeks of comfort in the man’s arms, he didn’t really care. He just needed…
I need Noah.
That was all.
Whatever Ezran thought of him, Noah was gentle and kind and he did care. Sometimes Jamie thought maybe he cared too damned much but saying so wasn’t a line Noah had invited him to cross.
Stepping naked into the bedroom, he heard the shower. Steam curled in wisps under the bathroom door. The lights were low. Ten o’clock. Noah was getting ready for bed. His Monday night routine. At a loss, Jamie looked around for somewhere to wait. The bed seemed too big and empty. He sank down on the hard floor next to it, his arm wrapped around the post, temple resting against the wood. Hanging on as if he might float away.
Noah came out of the bathroom naked, toweling his curls into messy disarray, and nearly walked into him.
“What are you doing there, little cat? Get into—” He frowned, arm lowering so the towel trailed onto the floor. “What’s wrong?”
Jamie shook his head, poked his tongue at the tender spot on his lip. “I just need…”
Noah scooped him up under his arms and moved him to the bed, lying alongside him. Head propped on one hand, he smoothed his palm over Jamie’s chest.
Jamie sighed, eyelids fluttering. “Feels nice.”
“Mhm.” Light touches moved over his arm, up his neck and through his hair. “Tell me.”
Blinking his eyes open, Jamie searched Noah’s gaze. “I’m sorry. I—”
“It’s not a choice.” Noah’s fingers turned his chin so he couldn’t look away. “Tell me.”
“Fuck.” He whispe
red the curse. “Ezran is never going to speak to me again. I wasn’t even supposed to know. He doesn’t…” Jamie met Noah’s hardening gaze.
Oh, Jesus. Dude is pissed and I haven’t even told him anything yet.
He tried to sit up, but Noah’s grip stilled him. “Now, sub.”
Jamie swallowed. Glanced above Noah’s head. “He was outside with Curtis. I was on the fire escape. They were talking about...someone named Mitch.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Ezran was raped at gunpoint by the guy. I don’t know when. I only know he made Curtis promise not to tell. He’s really upset. I didn’t know what to—”
Noah stood, moving to the dresser to pull out underwear, socks, and pants. Calm wrapped around him, reminding Jamie of the same feeling he got in a sound-proofed recording booth. There was no air. No sound.
No...Noah.
Jamie sat up. “Are you…?”
Dressed, Noah snapped his fingers and pointed at the bed. “Don’t move.”
Noah didn’t wait to see his nod. Looking around the bed, the air damp from the shower, he tried to shake the feeling that he’d made a terrible mistake.
Chapter Fourteen
Sitting on the edge of his tub, Curtis disinfected his knuckles. Better him than Doc. The man liked to use straight-up alcohol and gauze that felt more like sandpaper than cotton, and no fucking way did he want to have to explain why he’d been punching brick walls. Though Doc would probably believe a one-word fabrication—Noah—he didn’t want to stoop to lying to the man.
He’d seen Ezran off to bed, phone in his fist, headphones cupped over his ears, before coming into the bathroom. As heavy as the young man’s secrets were to bear, he’d bear them and more if to give Ez the space and time he needed to heal. The rest was between Ezran and his therapist. He refused to push him into talking, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t be there to listen whenever and wherever Ezran decided to do so.
Hard Justice: The Asylum Fight Club Book 3 Page 16