by Romilly King
Paid to be Shared
a steamy m/m/m romance
Romilly King
Drovers Road Books
Copyright © 2020 Romilly King
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456
Cover design by: Drovers Road Books
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America
This book is intended for adults only and includes scenes around BDSM and kink. The sexual incidents in this book are fictional fantasies and are not intended to be in any way instructional!
Dedicated to you…
Because you read and understood:-
That character matters
That Kink isn’t born out of trauma
That love is love
And Sub or Dom, apologize when you are wrong
You are all amazing, thank you
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One - Ivo
Chapter Two - Birch
Chapter Three - Griffin
Chapter Four - Birch
Chapter Five - Griffin
Chapter Six - Ivo
Chapter Seven - Birch
Chapter Eight - Griffin
Chapter Nine - Ivo
Chapter Ten - Birch
Chapter Eleven - Ivo
Chapter Twelve - Griffin
Chapter Thirteen - Birch
Chapter Fourteen - Griffin
Chapter Fifteen - Ivo
Chapter Sixteen - Griffin
Chapter Seventeen - Ivo
Chapter Eighteen - Birch
Chapter Nineteen - Griffin
Chapter Twenty - Griffin
Chapter Twenty-One - Birch
Chapter Twenty-two - Ivo
Chapter Twenty-three - Griffin
Chapter Twenty-Four - Ivo
Chapter Twenty-Five - Birch
Chapter Twenty-Six - Ivo
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Birch
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Griffin
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Ivo
Chapter Thirty - Griffin
Chapter Thirty-One - Birch
Epilogue
Books By This Author
Connect with Romilly
About The Author
Prologue
It’s nearly twenty years now since we started the Delphic Agency, right after that last great pandemic, when the rich who stayed rich took every advantage possible of the poor who had got poorer.
Delphic was one of the agencies set up to legally regulate the contracts between those who were willing to pay for sex – the Emptores, and those who were willing to sell it – the Venditores.
Since the beginning, our unofficial motto has been, “You can’t buy people, only time.” But our actual motto, written in the kind of font that is impossible to ignore, is “Know Yourself,” because that’s what they carved over the portal of the oracle at Delphi.
We’re nothing if not classy.
And it’s also kind of an in-joke – because we have an algorithm that can give us a picture of your sexual brain so detailed that we likely know you better than you know yourself.
That algorithm allows us to plot the sexual compatibility of our Emptores and Venditores. It makes us hugely successful and gives us our edge in business. But it’s not foolproof. Somewhere along the line humans have to do the heavy lifting and learn to know themselves the hard way through pain and experience.
We can’t do it all for you, some of it you have to work out for yourself.
Chapter One - Ivo
"Ideally, we want a sub that we both find attractive, but it's the kinks that we are mainly interested in. Ivo is into medical play, and I'm more for bondage, sensation play, forced orgasms, that sort of thing. Naturally, we'll both want to fuck him," Griffin looked at Ivo, and Ivo nodded and said nothing.
It is better if Griffin spoke for them because his brain was organized to be best in this sort of situation; succinct, sensible, getting to the meat of the issue. The CEO briefing the room.
Ivo's brain wasn't like that, all Ivo wanted to say was, give me a boy that I can play with, give me a boy I can tether to my table and probe and slowly open and then sink into.
Griffin didn't put his needs like that. He made bald statements without the hot details, but Ivo still got hard, his cock sluggishly filling against his thigh.
"I think it's worth noting that we intend to play separately. If the contract is a success, then we don't rule out scening together in the future, but that's not a priority. Oh, and we neither of us like brats." Griffin looked again at Ivo, checking in, and Ivo nodded again.
Dr. Gregory - he said they should call him Cash – peered at Ivo over his glasses, his moss-green eyes kind, a faint smile on his face. Ivo met his eyes across the cluttered desk and nodded again, "No, we don't like brats," he said. His voice sounded deeper, gruffer than he expected, "For this to work we need compliance. So we can have the scenes without drama, and then get back to being with each other."
He felt Griffin tense beside him, his leg pressed against his own, hard, Wrong thing to say, made me sound inhuman, he thought, Should have stayed quiet.
Dr. Gregory looked at him quizzically.
“What Ivo means,” Griffin stepped smoothly into the faux pas, “Is that our relationship is the primary. The contract with Delphic is a sexual cherry on the top of the cake for us. We’re giving each other this as an anniversary present actually. I could have got him a new set of golf clubs; instead, I got us both a subscription to the Kink of the Month club!” he laughed, and Dr. Gregory smiled and made another note.
Everyone in the room knew that was a lie.
Ivo needed this, Griffin needed this, and their marriage needed this.
Ivo loved his husband, loved his heart and his drive, loved his skin and his cock and his panting breaths and his hot hands, and yet, he needed someone pliant and begging. He wanted big eyes that would well with tears and then flutter with bliss. He needed, he needed – what Griffin couldn’t give.
He swallowed, he wasn’t alone in this, Griffin needed it too, and now, finally, they earned enough, they were open and trusting enough with each other, they could have this. He was sure they could have this. They had to have this.
Griffin was speaking again, and Dr. Gregory was listening carefully, head tilted to one side. “We want to start with a longer-term contract, three months minimum,” Griffin was relaxed now, talking logistics, “Three days a week and every other weekend. We’re happy for the sub to take on other contracts if they are feasible, but none that include an exchange of fluids because we both want to be able to come with him. Weekly testing would still be mandatory, of course.”
Ivo found himself drifting again. They had tried it, meeting each other’s needs, of course they had, they loved each other. They had tried to switch, and it had been a disaster. Ivo had taken it better. Griffin had dropped like a stone. Ivo had gritted his teeth and endured. Griffin hadn’t been able to look him in the face for days.
They were basically incompatible that way.
A contract with Delphic would solve everything, if it stayed neatly within the boundaries they built around it. They were professional men, they could manage this. God,
he hoped they could manage this.
“Married couples don’t do absolutely everything together,” Griffin had rationalized to Ivo when they got further than just hinting around the edges of the issue, “Nobody needs to witness anything, it will keep the mystique intact,”
And that sort of made sense to Ivo, although somehow he didn’t think that fucking a submissive fell into the same category of married life as toenail clipping and nasal hair trimming. But he couldn’t deny either Griffin or himself, because he could feel himself and his marriage fading to shades of grey for lack of it.
He swallowed at the fear that suddenly knotted his stomach. He wasn’t used to fear, as a surgeon, he was never fearful, but the thought of losing Griffin for lack of this scared the hell out of him.
Only this morning he had laid in bed, listening to Grif in the bathroom, hearing the sound of the shower, the turn of the taps, the buzz of his toothbrush, and he had thought, yeah, it will be just like this, routine maintenance, I don’t need to see it. That had made sense in the sunny domestic glow of their bedroom with its rumpled sheets, the scent of Griff’s body wash, and the detritus of their life lying around casually.
Griffin had come back into the bedroom, happily naked. His pale, freckled skin glowed in the morning light, and his face had been eager and excited, making him look years younger. He had slid up the bed, crawled up Ivo’s body, pressing kisses to his naked skin as he went. He had nuzzled into Ivo’s neck, lipping at the sensitive skin under his ear, and Ivo had tilted his head back, letting his handsome, funny, desperate husband have full access to his skin.
Yeah, Ivo had thought, we can have this, us together is the crucial thing, the thing I always need to see.
He had wrapped his arms around Griffin and rolled him. Griffin went easily, trusting and relaxed and had smiled up at Ivo, all soft because he knew Ivo would never ask anything of him that he didn’t want to give, not again. Ivo had looked down at his husband, “I love you,” he had said.
Griffin had reached up, tangled his hand in Ivo’s short dark hair, and pulled him down for a kiss, “I love you too.” Their foreheads had pressed together, their breaths had mingled, and Griffin’s had been all minty when he said, “We got this.”
“Yeah.”
Ivo sighed, too heavily, and Dr. Gregory and Griffin both turned and looked at him. “Sorry,” he apologized, “Uh, yes, as medical professionals testing is high on our lists of priorities. We can arrange it through the hospital.”
“You can certainly arrange your own testing through your facility,” Dr. Gregory said equably, “But all our Venditores are tested here in house, so you don’t need to worry about that,”
He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, and Ivo was struck by how young he was to be Head of Organizational Psychology at Delphic. His professional rank was the same as Ivo’s own, but he was a good ten years younger. The agencies did tend to headhunt the prodigies, so chances were they had groomed this young man through scholarships from a young age.
Ivo was glad he hadn’t been a prodigy. He had enjoyed his career trajectory, a steady climb through his surgical residency, his fellowship, and then latterly, with Griffin at his side, rising like a bubble through the ranks to Head of Thoracic Surgery. He didn’t want to go any further, he left policy wrangling to Griffin, he liked his hands inside bodies too much, that was where he belonged.
“It’s clear you have put a lot of thought into this,” Dr. Gregory looked up at them both, “and that is essential with a complex contract like this,”
He studied them both across the desk, “I think I can speak freely with you, we all share a similar background. This is going to be a difficult contract for Delphic to fill – and please, make no mistake, we want to fill it – but it isn’t straightforward, and I am duty-bound to oversee it personally, primarily for the sake of our Venditor, because we will be asking a lot of him.”
Ivo felt the fear return, this time, it was fear that they would not get to have this, that their fundamental incompatibility with each other would deny them once again.
“Is there any possibility that you would consider two submissives on a less intensive schedule?” Dr. Gregory asked reasonably, “There are a limited number of Venditores that even get close to matching your joint profile. We have manually cross-referenced for compatibility, and additional training would be required even then.
“Of course, that isn’t your concern, but if you were willing to consider two Venditores for fewer weekly …”
“Do you have a compatible Venditor?” Griffin interrupted him, and Ivo was surprised by his aggressive tone, “Because there are other agencies if you cannot fulfill this request.”
Dr. Gregory looked at them neutrally, “There is no other agency that can even get close to giving you what you need,” There was the slightest emphasis on the last word and Ivo, despite his tendency to miss social cues, heard it loud and clear.
Griffin did too, and he reached for Ivo’s hand. Ivo took it and squeezed.
Dr. Gregory sighed, and Ivo realized that those moss-green eyes weren’t just kind; they were full of empathy, and Ivo felt naked before them.
“As I said, I will oversee this contract personally, and I will be working with the Venditor we think may be able to accommodate your needs,”
Ivo heard Griffin let out the breath he had been holding, and his hand relaxed in Ivo’s grip.
“I appreciate the candor you have shown during the assessment process,” Dr. Gregory went on, more conciliatory now, “You have passed the practical evaluations and the psych assessments are in. Although in these circumstances, they are less useful in determining a sub, more in ruling one out.”
Dr. Gregory turned to his computer and studied the screen. “It’s clear you’ve been honest about your kinks, which is helpful, at least you know yourselves,” he said, almost as if speaking to himself, “Unmentioned kinks can throw this kind of contract into disarray,” He turned back to them, “We have a young man who we think may be suitable.”
Ivo turned to Griffin, and the blazing smile that Griff gave him made his heart swell.
“Of course, the choice to proceed must be mutual,” Dr. Gregory was smiling at them now, “I think the best way forward is to set up an interview and we all have a face to face some time in the next few days. When are you available?”
Ivo sat quietly while Griffin and Dr. Gregory arranged a home visit. They were one step closer. He imagined the feel of hot flesh beneath his surgical gloves, twitching, vibrant, yielding consciously, compliant. He heard breathy moans in his ears, the “Yes, Sir,” of someone resilient and desperate.
It wasn’t until Ivo was halfway back to the hospital and his afternoon appointments that he suddenly wondered why he and Griffin had never considered two Venditores rather than one. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember them ever discussing it.
Chapter Two - Birch
“All done, sweetheart,” the AIs voice was rich and low, and Birch sighed as the glove released its firm grip on his right hand and wrist. He pulled his hand out slowly, stretched, and rubbed his eyes.
His cock was half-hard, and the low-level arousal that every psych evaluation left him with pulsed steadily inside him. “Just rest a moment, Birch,” the AI cooed, and Birch smiled dopily at it.
Dr. Gregory and the guys from 3M were tweaking the psych system all the time, and it was learning. Its response was now tailored to individuals and their place on the scale. Fortunately, Birch knew precisely what he was, no surprises for him. He imagined it freaked a few Emptores out though, ones that walked into the room thinking they were Alpha Males only to have a strict schoolmistress type bossily deal with them when the test was done. Birch giggled to himself.
His phone vibrated in his back pocket, and he squirmed to get it free—a text from Dr. Gregory. Birch hummed happily; if Cash wanted to see him, then maybe he had something he needed him for. Birch liked being needed, and Cash always had the most exciting contracts.
“Yes, sweetheart, your heart rate, blood pressure, and skin temperature are within acceptable ranges so you can leave now,”
“Thank you,” Birch chirped and slid off the chair. The lights brightened, and he grabbed his laptop bag and left the room. He hurried over to the Speciality Contract Wing and keyed in his personal code to access the private area, where few Venditores went.
He was proud that he was one of the select few granted access to the wing, although he noticed that there were more people around lately, and the wing was expanding. Everybody getting a grasp on their kink, he thought to himself as he knocked on Dr. Gregory’s door.
Dr. Cashel Gregory was one of Birch’s favorite people. As Director of Organizational Psychology, he had jurisdiction over the specialist contracts at Delphic as well as working with ManMindMap, the organization colloquially known as 3M, that developed the algorithm that gave Delphic unmatched success in matching the sexual predilections of Venditores and Emptores. While his responsibilities were substantial Cash himself was fun as far as Birch could see, he was witty and smart, and he was young to be in his role. He never spoke down to Birch and insisted they were colleagues, which Birch thought was sweet.
“Hey,” Cash looked up from his cluttered desk when Birch slipped into the room, “Thanks for coming so quickly,”
“I was in the Agency anyway, I had a new AI assessment,” Birch said.
“I know,” said Cash, “I requested it, I have a tricky contract, and I wanted to have a look at your brain again!”
“Is it gorgeous?” asked Birch
“Beautiful,” Cash grinned, “Like a diamond in a sunbeam,”
Birch giggled, “What have you got for me?” he asked.
“Take a seat,” said Cash, “I’m just waiting for Ms. Sara, we need her input too, but essentially I have a ménage contract that you may be suitable for, but I have reservations. You up for discussing it?”