Into The Light

by Wolfe, H. M.

  Drained of energy, the man plopped down on a couch in the lobby, trying to calm down the emotions storming inside him. There, in the room he just left, was his son. Now he was a grown-up, married man. Joraan couldn't stop asking himself what Daniel's wife looked like? What kind of woman was she? How the two of them met? How...

  Then he saw them. Vincent and his beloved Sebastian, walking into the lobby, side by side, fingers laced together. They were smiling at each other. The redhead's heart shattered into a million pieces, and he could hear the noise they made when they fell — scattering in every direction.

  But the next second all the little shards came together, as Joraan thanked all the deities in the universe that the two men he had feelings for were finally reunited. Vincent brought him and Sebastian together, then walked away, so the two of them could be happy. Now, it was the time for Joraan to return the favor.

  Colin stared at the red-haired man sitting alone on a couch in the almost empty lobby. He looked so lost. So much in pain. So vulnerable, so easy to hurt, that the raven-haired man felt the urge to go over there and wrap his arms around the man, comforting him.

  But he couldn't do that. Not when Vincent, the man he was starting to love and trust, was by his side. Deep down inside, Colin felt he knew the redhead and had strong feelings for him. Even if that was true, and these feelings resurfaced, he couldn't be in love with two men. Or could he?

  Vincent was still in shock after recognizing Joraan in the person of the redhead they'd just passed by. The lost boy he loved almost as much as he loved Sebastian was alive. But it was too late for them because getting together with the gentle redhead would have meant to he'd have to let Colin, who'd made his way into Vincent's heart, go. Because how could he love two men at the same time?

  CHAPTER 28

  "We have to talk," Alastair said in a somewhat stern voice, looking at Mallory, who sat at the other end of the table. The former CIA director hated himself for what he was going to do to the young man, but that was the only viable option.

  ”Yes, I agree, this discussion is way overdue,” the young lawyer said in a flat, professional voice. In spite of a carefully studied, apparently calm attitude, he fought hard to keep his internal turmoil under control.

  "Mallory, no matter how much I wish to believe otherwise, this thing between us will be short-lived. I care about you very much, and I know you have deep feelings for me, but they are for the wrong reason. There's nothing I could give you, and there are too many things I would ask from you, without offering something in return."

  "If this is how you feel...Well, there's no use in trying to convince you that it's worth fighting for what you want. I don't know many things about your life, Alastair, but I don't think you came so far by walking away every time you faced a difficulty." Mallory stood up, heading to the door. "Thanks for the meal, it was delicious. You sure know how to take care of a man's needs."

  Saying that, the young man walked on out the door, closing it behind him, careful not to slam it. Nothing in his voice or posture gave away a single clue about what the young man was feeling. Left alone, Alastair slapped himself mentally for being the asshole he was and for taking Mallory's right to make a choice himself. He grabbed his phone, dialing the lawyer's number.

  ”Mallory Ashburn speaking, what can I do for you?” a neutral voice greeted the former Supreme Dragon from the other end of the line.

  "Alastair Stark here. Listen, I'm very sorry for earlier. Could you...would you be so kind to come here and restart the discussion from where I so foolishly interrupted it?"

  "I'll be there," the same flat, emotionless voice spoke, without adding anything else, and then the line went silent.

  For the first time, in decades, Alastair felt tingles of anticipation while waiting for Mallory. Even from the beginning, he fought against the irresistible attraction that drew him to the much younger man like a powerful magnet. It was something so absurd that a man of such a mature age would fall like a teenager for someone so much younger than him, that Alastair denied the feeling from the start.

  At the same time, however, was the way Mallory looked at him, the adoration in those soulful brown eyes that warmed the former Supreme Dragon's frozen heart. The young man paid attention to everything he said, and that made Alastair feel, that, at least for someone, his opinions were necessary, that he still had a lot to offer.

  A soft knock on the door interrupted the path of the man's thoughts. "It's open," he said, his heart starting to beat a little faster.

  "I'm back," Mallory said, letting himself into the apartment. With the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to the elbows and his light brown hair a little messed up, he looked even younger.

  "Sit down, please," Alastair gestured to his favorite armchair. "Please, excuse me earlier, for not giving you the chance to express your opinion on a matter that concerns you so much. The truth is I'm scared as hell."

  "Scared? Why?" This time, Mallory's voice filled with worry and affection. The emotions were also noticeable in his voice.

  "Of letting you down, of failing you the same way I failed my nephew Sebastian, Daniel's father. Failed my son, whom I turned away when he needed me the most. I may be a financially and socially successful man, but I am a pathetic loser concerning relationships," Alastair sighed heavily.

  "You won't fail me or let me down, and neither will I do that to you," Mallory gently spoke.

  "What do you want from this, from our relationship?" Alastair asked, boring his dark green eyes into the young man's light brown ones.

  "To let me be with you, in every sense. I want you to guide, to teach, to discipline me. I want to learn how to give pleasure to you and you only." Mallory's voice was vibrant, his eyes filled with passion.

  Right then and there, Alastair finally understood. He needed that young man in his life as much as Mallory needed him. From the very moment he was born, the patriarch of the Stark clan wasn't in control of his own life, his decisions influenced by external pressure.

  First, there was his greedy adoptive family, who kept his true origins from him — demanding money from the Starks under the pretext that they were looking for the family's lost heir. Then, he had to raise his son by himself because of his girlfriend's family bigotry.

  Even Sylvester, who'd loved Alastair greatly, had also controlled him in so many ways, and he accepted it. It was out of gratitude but also because he recognized the superiority of the other man, voluntarily submitting to him.

  The sixty-year-old Alastair, was as lost as a sixteen-year-old. Every time, he did it wrong. Always afraid he would fail, never allowing himself to get carried away. Still, life offered him the chance to take control of his own life by controlling someone else's, but in a good way.

  That someone, was none other than Mallory, the gift of the Fates for Alastair, a present waiting to be unwrapped and appreciated as he deserved. Clearing his throat, the former Supreme Dragon gestured to Mallory.

  "Take off your shirt and place it somewhere, neatly folded," he ordered in a husky voice. "Once you finish, sit on my lap, back against my chest."

  The young man nodded. ”Yes, Sir,” he said in a low voice, as he started to undo the buttons of his shirt with shaky fingers.

  "Daddy," Alastair corrected him. "That is what you will call me from now on when we are together like this. Do you understand me, boy?"

  The voice the older man used, especially when he emphasized the boy, made Mallory weak in the knees. "Yes, Daddy," he said.

  In the meantime, the young man had finished taking off and folding his shirt. He was standing before Alastair naked from the waist up. The sight of the well-defined, hairless chest sent pleasurable shocks to the former Supreme Dragon's groin area, but he knew better than to spoil the moment.

  "Tell me, boy. Are you ready to let go of your control? Are you ready to take anything I may give you?" Alastair's voice was thick, his green eyes darker than usual.

  "Yes, Daddy," Mallory replied without the slighte
st trace of hesitation. Then, he went to the armchair where the other man was sitting, positioning himself, as he'd been instructed.

  Good boy," Alastair praised him, starting to run his flat palm over the young man's neck, gradually descending to his bare, smooth chest. As if by accident, he rubbed his palm over Mallory's nipple, making him arch a little. "Feels good?" Alastair asked, smirking.

  "Mmmhhhhmm, yes, Daddy," the young man spoke, barely able to concentrate on how to form the words. His mind, usually so focused, was in a blissful haze, his body craving more.

  "You have to let it go, boy. Express yourself, show your Daddy here how much you like what I do to you. Come on, give me your little moans," Alastair encouraged Mallory.

  He circled the lawyer's slim waist with an arm, undoing the button and zipper of his dress pants while continuing to slide the other one up his smooth, velvety skin covering his torso. Once he pulled the zipper entirely down, Alastair slid his other hand inside Mallory's boxers, starting to tease the area around his cock and balls.

  "What a good boy you are, all smooth down there! It feels so good," the older man whispered ruggedly into the young one's ear, making him writhe. "Make sure and keep it this way all the time. Daddy loves it very much," he said, starting to massage Mallory's cock.

  "Th...thank you, Daddy, I will," the young man stuttered, his brain foggy, overwhelmed by the pleasure Alastair's expert touches produced. He arched his back, shoving his dick further into the man's hand, begging for more.

  "Be patient, boy. Daddy's going to give what you need, but not too fast," the older man said, removing his hand from Mallory's underwear and started to rub his palm over his cock through the fabric.

  "Please, Daddy," the young man begged, desperate for more, letting out one needy whimper after another.

  Alastair didn't reply. He started to rub harder instead, feeling how Mallory got closer and closer to orgasm with every pant, moan and whimper leaving his pink, sinfully full lips. Arching his back, he finally came, letting out a long, deep, loud moan. Spent, the young man laid limp in his partner's lap, catching his breath, still on cloud nine.

  Waiting for Mallory to come down from the bliss state he was in, Alastair gently caressed the young man's face. He lightly kissed his temple, while thinking that this was probably the first real orgasm the man sitting in his lap had ever experienced. At that thought, Alastair's heart ached for his poor boy no one had ever laid a loving hand on before.

  "How do you feel, boy?" he asked after a while. Placing a hand on Mallory's heart, he could feel its beats evened out, a sign that he was recovering from his post-orgasmic state.

  "I...I feel great, thank you, Daddy," the younger man let out a grateful whisper, followed by a small, content sigh.

  "I'm glad to hear that because it is time for you to show me how much you appreciated what I did for you. Usually, the reward comes after you pleasure me, but this being our first time together, I thought I would make an exception to that rule," Alastair said in a somehow detached tone.

  "Thank you, Daddy, I appreciate your gift very much. Tell me how can I show you that," Mallory replied.

  ”By getting on your knees, worshiping and serving me,” the answer came in an instant.

  The young man nodded, gracefully sinking to his knees in front of Alastair's armchair. He unbuttoned the man's pants, then slid the zipper down. Hooking his long, sleek fingers into the waist of his underwear, he pulled it down just as much as was needed to free the redhead's cock, nearly smacking himself in the face with it.

  Alastair Stark was a well-endowed man and, for a split second, Mallory wondered if he could take it all without gagging, since he'd never given anyone a blow-job before. Anyway, the thought was almost instantly pushed to the very back of his mind, as he took Alastair's cock in his hand, starting to kiss it from the top to the shaft's root and back again.

  Once he got back to the tip, Mallory darted his tongue over the slit, making the whole dick twitch in anticipation. Encouraged by the reaction, the young man continued to flick his tongue at the slit for a while. Then he started to suck and lick around the thick head, while Alastair's breath began to hitch.

  That gave Mallory even more courage, so he took more of the long, thick cock in his mouth, wrapping his delicious, sinful lips around it while bobbing his head up and down. No matter how hard Alastair fought to control himself, at that point, he lost it. Grabbing two fistfuls of Mallory's light brown hair, he pushed the young man's head down even more, until his nose touched the redhead's pubic hair.

  Mallory reacted by increasing the pace, trying and, surprisingly, succeeding in taking even more cock in his mouth and down his throat. At this point, he gagged one or two times, but he managed to keep the reflex under control. The mix of passion and innocence Mallory was broke Alastair's heart but warmed it at the same time.

  He let go of his boy's hair, running his fingers through the honey-brown strands instead. The ball of fire in the pit of his stomach grew bigger and bigger, threatening to explode any minute. Indeed, under the action of Mallory's unskilled mouth, it didn't take long for him to shoot his load down the young man's throat.

  For a moment, the guilt he felt about not pulling out threatened to take away the rush of joy following his orgasm. But, at the sight of the expression on Mallory's beautiful face, it vanished into thin air. His boy was there, at his feet, looking at him in adoration, a sated smile playing on his lips.

  Without a word, Alastair opened his arms, the young man understanding the significance of the gesture and acted accordingly. Pulling up to his feet, Mallory seated himself back in his Daddy's lap, with his head resting on the older man's shoulder.

  "Thank you, my boy, you did excellently," Alastair praised him, petting his head and placing chaste kisses on his forehead and temple.

  "Your words make me happy, Daddy," Mallory replied, eyes half-closed. Then, he let out a small contented sigh, nuzzling into the older man's neck.

  ”And you, my boy, make me happy," Alastair said gently. "I still don't understand why you would choose an old goat like me. There are all those young studs out there, who would give an arm and a leg to have your attention," he continued, thoughtfully.

  "Because for those young studs, as you call them, I am only a moment's distraction. Something to enjoy and get rid of, once it reached its completion. You, on the other hand, are nothing like that. You need me just as much I need you." Mallory closed his eyes, sighing heavily.

  Alastair instantly felt the burden weighing on his boy's heart, and also his desire to lift it by talking about whatever had caused this state of spirit. "There is more to it, my boy, and it isn't only about our relationship. Something else is bothering you, am I right?"

  "See, you are wise, and this is another reason I wanted you to be my Daddy. There's this guy at the office, Elliott's new assistant. My heart breaks for him sometimes," Mallory said, in a sadness-filled voice. "He's just like you, in so many ways."

  "How come?" Alastair asked with obvious interest. He had the strange feeling that the discussion about the guy at the office was going to have a significant impact on his life.

  "He's very protective of Elliott, just like you are with your great-nephews, but the similarities don't stop here. The man is also very organized and effective, he knows a lot of things, speaks a dozen or so foreign languages, exactly like you. He even has red hair and green eyes, only his are much lighter."

  Involuntarily, Alastair felt chills creeping down his spine. Indeed, there were a lot of coincidences, but he suspected that wasn't the whole story. There was more to it, much more. The only way of finding out the other things was to have Mallory continue to speak on the subject.

  ”Careful there, my boy, you are making me jealous,” Alastair said, in a mockingly warning voice.

  "Oh, no, not at all, the guy is faithful to the memory of his deceased husband. He was also in the vehicle that burned, but somehow, he managed to survive. Elliott's assistant lost the only one he ever
loved," Mallory said, his beautiful face shadowed by sorrow.

  Alastair felt a pang in his chest. "An unfortunate story," he said. "The poor man must feel very lonely. By the way, has he a name?"

  "Of course he has, I didn't realize that I hadn't mentioned it until now. Joraan Van Sloot, that's his name."

  CHAPTER 29

  The doorbell rang insistently for what it seemed like the thousandth time in the last thirty minutes, and Joraan decided not to ignore it any longer. Getting in trouble with the neighbors or being the next subject of gossip for the ladies in the building were not among his top priorities.

  Besides, Joraan knew who was at the door, and he also was aware of the man's lack of patience, among other things. He was astonished that he'd resisted the urge to show everyone how important he was, by calling the police, the FBI, CIA, NSA and whatever governmental agency he would feel like contacting.

  Cracking the door, Joraan peeked out down the long hall. Fortunately, none of his nosy neighbors showed up to watch the show. Unfortunately, the man was still there.