What He Fears: Desires Book 4

by E. M. Denning

  Nick peeked around the corner into the living room and saw the dead plant. He frowned and collected the pot, noting that the soil was so dry that it had pulled away from the edge of the planter. “Shit.” Nick dropped the dead plant into the sink and handed the books to Andrew.

  “Do you even live here?”

  Nick chuckled. “It’s my condo. I have a key.”

  “And a full mailbox and a dead plant. When was the last time you were there?”

  Nick grinned at Andrew, despite the fact that his insides screamed danger. He truthfully couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent any amount of time here. He stopped in now and then to grab something, like he’d done today, but the visits were short. “Obviously not much considering I killed poor Rupert.” He motioned to the dead plant.

  Andrew looked at the covers of the books, then tucked them under his arm. “I think you should talk to Rory,” he said, lifting his gaze to Nick’s. His expression was a strange mixture of pained amusement.

  “Why?”

  “I think he deserves to know that you moved in together.”

  Nick laughed and shook his head. “I guess it does sort of look that way, doesn’t it?” his phone chimed with a text message from Rory. “Speak of the devil.” He tucked his phone away and motioned toward the door. “Our presence has been requested for lunch.”

  He tried not to let his mind wander to Andrew’s revelation, but he couldn’t help it. When was the last time he’d spent the night in his own bed? When was the last time he’d grocery shopped and brought the food into his own kitchen? When was the last time Rory came over to his place? He couldn’t think back far enough to provide an answer to any of those questions.

  By the time they arrived back at Rory’s house, his mind whirred and twisted and hummed. How long had he been living with Rory without realizing it? They spent almost all their time together until Andrew came into the picture. Then, when Nick wasn’t at work, he split his time between the men.

  Nick followed Andrew into the kitchen; his love for food was something that Nick found particularly endearing and he cracked a smile when Andrew walked over to Rory and greeted him with a kiss.

  “It smells delicious.” Andrew said as he hovered over the pot to breathe in the aroma. “What is it?”

  Rory started to answer, but then he looked at Nick and he stopped talking. “Nicky, what is it?”

  Nick went to Rory because Rory crooked his finger and gave him a look. Rory looked at him for a moment, then tilted his head. “What is it?” He repeated. Nick knew Rory would want to know what troubled him, but he couldn’t address that yet. If he was honest, he didn’t want to address it at all. If he mentioned it, if he made Rory aware of something that he’d been blind to, a perceived level of commitment that Rory hadn’t invited, Rory could reject him.

  Nick took a shaky breath. “I need you, Roar.” He wanted to sink to his knees, he wanted Rory to take him away from everything until the world softened and things made sense again.

  Rory slid his fingers through Nick’s hair. “It’s okay, Nicky.”

  Nick closed his eyes and basked in the comfort offered by those three words.

  “What do you need, Nicky?” Rory asked.

  Sometimes Nick needed to be tied up and flogged. Sometimes he needed to be teased and tortured, edged into insanity, then sent into beautiful oblivion when Rory finally allowed him to come. “You,” Nick replied. “I need you.” He knew that no matter what Rory did, it wouldn’t matter as much as the fact that it was Rory doing it.

  “Go to the playroom. Strip. Kneel. Wait. I’ll get Andrew settled and be right up.” Rory kissed Nick briefly, but hard, owning his mouth, and him. Nick started to move away from Rory when Andrew spoke.

  “Can I watch?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rory

  Rory slid his hand around the back of Nick’s neck. There was something off about him, an edge of desperation, but he guessed it wasn’t just about sex. Nicky needed something from him. Rory studied him for a moment before he spoke. “Is that okay with you, Nicky, if our boy watches?”

  Nick nodded without hesitation. “I want him there. Please, Roar.”

  “I’ll tend to lunch, you take Andrew with you and get ready. I want you both stripped and kneeling.” Rory turned to Andrew. “I promise that all you’ll have to do is watch but you need to know, in that playroom, I’m in charge. If you need to, you may leave your briefs on, but only this time, because your role will be only to observe. Is that okay, Andrew?”

  Andrew furrowed his brow, “If you’re the boss, why are you asking me if it’s okay?” He seemed more confused than annoyed.

  “Because the room and the rules may be mine, but the limits are yours, and we haven’t discussed them yet.” Rory turned to Nick and crushed their lips together. “Run along. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Rory watched them go upstairs. He exhaled and raked his hands through his hair then rolled his shoulders and took a few steadying breaths. He turned the soup down to low to keep it warm. He poured himself a glass of water and drank it slowly.

  He was nervous, and it made him feel stupid. He told himself there was absolutely nothing to be nervous about. He’d done things like this a million times before. But never with his boys. Claiming them in his head helped settle his nerves slightly. They were his boys, and they needed him, and with that thought, he whipped his shirt off and marched upstairs.

  When he entered the room, both men were naked and kneeling and Rory allowed himself to smile at the sight. He didn’t say anything for a minute. He walked in a slow circle around the men. Fuck, they were beautiful, and despite his first time kneeling, Andrew appeared to be relaxed.

  “I’m impressed.” Rory said as he trailed his fingers along Nick’s shoulder, then Andrew’s, as he continued to circle them. “You look pretty good down there, boys.” Rory didn’t voice his disappointment that they hadn’t yet discussed Andrew’s limits. He’d have liked nothing more than a session with both his boys, but it was probably for the best. Nicky seemed to need something from him today.

  Rory left them and walked to a cabinet that sat on the far side of the room. His playroom wasn’t anything special, it was mostly filled with toys and furniture that Nick liked. A St. Andrew’s cross, a spanking bench, a pillory (the day Rory brought that home had turned out to be fun) a cabinet full of gear and toys and a bed over against the far wall. The bed was equipped with restraints.

  Rory opened the cabinet and examined the contents. He quickly pocketed a condom and some lube, then thought about how he wanted to do this today. He wanted to give Nick something to focus on that wasn’t whatever it was that he was currently churning around in his head. But he also didn’t want to terrify Andrew.

  With an idea in mind, Rory gathered a few necessary items in his arms. Wrist cuffs. Collars. Cane. He walked back to his boys and set the gear aside, keeping only the thin, black leather collars. They weren’t the kind of collar Rory wanted to put on his boys, they were simple training collars, but they’d have to do, for now.

  He slid the thin leather around Andrew’s neck first. “This is a collar, it designates ownership. When you wear it, you’re mine. Being mine means that it’s my responsibility to keep you safe, to look after you and meet all your needs. Your job is to obey me. Do you understand, Andrew?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Rory grinned. Those words always did go straight to his cock, but they sounded amazing coming out of Andrew’s mouth. Rory slid his fingers through Nick’s dark hair. “You’ve been busy, Nicky. He’s doing a very good job, you should be proud.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Rory slid the thin leather around Nick’s throat. He fastened it, then bent and kissed the top of Nick’s bare shoulder. He didn’t need to explain the meaning of the collar to Nick, but he liked saying the affirmation of ownership. Rory was bossy and greedy and he liked his boy to know exactly who he belonged to. “You’re mine, Nicky.”
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br />   “Thank you, Sir.”

  Rory gathered the wrist cuffs. “Stand up, Andrew.” Rory watched Andrew stand less than gracefully. He moved toward Rory a little stiffly. “Kneeling is hard work, I know. It looks simple, but if you’re not used to it, it doesn’t take long to take a toll, does it?”

  “No, Sir.” Andrew eyed the restraints with suspicion.

  “These are wrist cuffs. I don’t want you to have to worry about what you’re supposed to be doing. I know we haven’t discussed limits, but I’d like to restrain you. It should help focus you.”

  “It’s fine.” He extended his hands toward Rory. “It’s okay.”

  Rory fastened the first cuff around Andrew’s left wrist. “Nick might love rope, but I love buckles and leather. But one day I think I’d like to see him tie you up.” Rory didn’t usually watch Nick dom, it wasn’t part of their dynamic before, and if Rory was honest with himself, he’d been too jealous. But here with the three of them, there was no room for jealousy. There were only layers of lust, admiration, and trust.

  Once the second cuff was secured around Andrew’s other wrist, Rory took him by the hands and led him over to the bed. When he was finished with Nicky, he’d need to hold him and comfort him, and he wanted Andrew to be part of that.

  “Sit.”

  Andrew hesitated, but obeyed. Rory’s mind went wild imagining Andrew taking different orders from him and he wondered what other kinds of orders Andrew would hesitate to follow. Rory attached him to the bed using one of the built-in restraints and the D-rings on the cuffs. He stroked a hand down Andrew’s arm, then cupped his chin. “You’re safe. You’re secure. Nothing is going to happen to you, today, but if you need to, you can use your safeword. Tell me what it is, Andrew”

  “Red.” Andrew answered automatically.

  Rory swept a kiss across his lips, it was less of a claiming kiss, and more of a reassurance. “You can ask questions if you like, and if you need anything, I expect you to call out and ask me.” Rory grabbed the restraints and tested them again to make sure they weren’t too tight. Andrew stared at him with this open expression of wonder that make Rory’s heart sing. He couldn’t help but brush his fingers through Andrew’s hair. “Be good.”

  He rolled his shoulders back and exhaled as he approached Nick. “On your feet, Nicky. Tell me your safeword.”

  “Red, Sir.” Nick rose, gracefully, dutifully, his eyes lowered to the floor, he locked his arms behind his back in the expected position. Rory could look at him forever. With his shoulders pulled back and his chest pressed out, he had a delicious broad look to him. Rory loved having Nick on display for him and he ran a hand down Nick’s spine, then cracked him on the ass. “Get over to the cross, Nicky.”

  Without speaking a word, Nick went where he was told. He didn’t move, didn’t raise his arms to wait for Rory to attach him to the cross, but waited for the command. Rory, still conscious that Andrew was in the room, followed Nick to the cross. He attached Nick to the device.

  “I love how you look like this. You don’t know how beautiful you are like this. Stretched out in all directions, totally open to me.” Rory stroked a hand down Nick’s spine, noting happily, that Nick pressed back into the touch. Rory spent a few minutes touching Nick. he ran his hands down Nick’s arms and down his sides. Up his back. Down his front. Rory leaned in and kissed Nick’s shoulder blades.

  He watched Nick relax in his restraints. His hand traveled down Nick’s ass. Rory brought his hand back. The crack of flesh on flesh shot through the room. Dual inhales, one here, close to him, from Nick. One across the room where Andrew sat tied to the bed.

  Rory smacked the other cheek, then peppered a series of short, sharp hits, alternating cheeks. He didn’t pause to rub the sting out of Nick’s skin. He let the sting build and when Nick’s legs tensed, Rory slowed, and massaged Nick’s cheeks, working out some of the sting.

  “You’re doing so good, Nicky.” Rory crooned as he admired the pinkish hue Nick’s ass had turned. He pulled his hand back and laid a series of strikes on the backs of Nick’s thighs. He laid down a couple heavy-handed strikes on each leg, then rubbed the abused area. He ran a hand up Nick’s spine and found him to still be steady.

  Rory smoothed his hands over Nick’s ass, then drew his hand back. Instead of striking his ass where he’d expected the hit to fall, he struck the tender inner thigh. Nick yelped and his restraints shuddered as he resisted. Nick’s shoulders heaved, and he exhaled a slightly shaky breath.

  “You’re doing good, Nicky. My Nicky.”

  “Your Nicky.” Nick repeated, his voice pinched tight as if he was choking on emotion. Rory understood he wouldn’t let it shake loose without a bit more work, so he struck Nick’s inner thighs again, a few times in succession before stopping.

  He knew he might not look like much compared to Nick, but years with pliers and tools, crafting jewelry and creating things had given his hands strength and dexterity. Rory smoothed one hand down Nick’s trembling figure. The insides of his legs were as red as his ass and his breathing started to change. He pressed a kiss to Nick’s shoulder, then crossed the room to get the cane.

  He caught sight of Andrew, whose eyes widened at the sight of the instrument and Rory gave him what he hoped was a reassuring look. “It’s a cane, Andrew. And yes, it’s going to hurt Nick, but in a way that he needs it to hurt. We’ve done this before, don’t worry, cub.”

  Andrew nodded and Rory turned his attention back to Nick. He gave the cane a practice swing. It sliced the air and the unmistakable sound of what was to come made Nick visibly tense. He gave it another vicious swing through the air. The sound of the cane connected to Nick and yanked on him, making him flinch in his restraints again, though nothing had touched him.

  Rory touched Nick’s ass with the cane, lining it up across his cheeks, then he struck him. Rory loved the cane. He loved the versatility of it, the fact that the amount of pain he could inflict depended solely on his technique. The cane, Rory thought, was an under-appreciated piece of equipment. He gave Nick a gentle swat to the back of his thighs, laying fresh pain over old ache.

  Nick shouted and squirmed, his body trying to find a way to soothe the pain, but unable to, which forced him to ride it out. He struck him again, hard enough to make Nick scream, but not hard enough to leave a stripe on him. He didn’t leave more than a few seconds before the next strike landed.

  Nick hissed but didn’t cry out. He trembled and shook, and Rory could see the tension in his body. His back. His arms. His legs. Every inch of him was pulled tight and about to snap. Rory lined the cane up and brought it down hard. He watched Nick’s flesh cushion the blow, but that one stripe would hurt later. He wanted it to hurt later. He wanted Nick to remember who he belonged to.

  Rory brought the cane down again, leaving another stripe below that one. Then a third. After the fourth, a choked half sob crashed through Nick’s tightly built defences and Rory wanted to sigh with relief. He wanted to give Nick what he needed, and often Nick needed something intense to focus on washing away everything else, and until he let go, Rory was always afraid that he wouldn’t be able to help Nick. But Nick always surrendered to him, eventually.

  Nick sputtered and choked out another sob. Rory rubbed Nick’s back for a minute, soothing the emotional storm that rolled through him before laying another strip across his ass.

  Rory glanced across the room to check on Andrew. He hadn’t said a word the entire time, but Rory guessed that he might not be the type to interrupt something like this. He didn’t seem shaken or disturbed by the display in front of him.

  Turning back to Nick, he offered reassurance while he picked out the best place on Nick’s ass to lay another stripe. “You’re doing so good, Nicky. Just a few more. You can take a few more for me.”

  The words came out strangled and garbled, but they were definitely yes, sir. Nick’s sobs had quieted, but he still trembled and shook. The cane created a sharp, biting pain. It was a sudden and fierce pain.
Lighter strikes hurt most when they happened, but harder strikes, like the last few he laid on Nick, had a pain that would bloom for a while yet. He hadn’t safeworded, but he would soon. Rory could see it in the way he curled his toes, then extended them again and the way Nick hung his head and looked at the floor while tossing his head back and forth as he cried.

  The cane whooshed through the air. The resounding crack reverberated through the room, and Nick cried out. The cane cracked across Nick's body a few more times, with only enough hesitation between strikes to see if Nick could take another. When Nick’s arms went slack, his head dropped down and his body went limp. Later, his ass would be a landscape of purple and pink, but for now it was an angry red and Nick couldn’t take another hit.

  Rory smoothed his hands down Nick’s back. He whispered praise to Nick as he caressed him. Rory’s hand slid around Nicks’ front. Then down. Despite the caning and the crying, or maybe because of it, Nick’s cock was hard. He arched into Rory’s touch as much as he could before Rory pulled his hand away.

  “Please.” Nick’s voice was broken and needy, desperate and pain-laced. Rory unzipped his pants and pulled his cock free. He put both hands on Nick’s hips and pulled himself close, grinding his naked erection into the crease of Nick’s ass.

  “Ask me nicely, Nicky.”

  “Please.”

  “Nicer.” He increased his grip on Nick’s hips, which only increased Nick’s desperation.

  “Roar, please. Fuck me. I can’t... I need you.”

  “That’s right, Nicky.” Rory unbound Nick’s wrists, releasing him from the cross. He helped him to the floor, arranging him so the side of his face was pressed against the cool wooden floor and his flaming ass was in the air. “You’re a good boy, Nicky. You did so good.”

  Rory stopped petting Nick long enough to slide a condom on. He coated two fingers with a packet of lube and shoved them slowly, but without preamble, into Nick’s ass. He spread the lube around and quickly made Nick ready for him.

  He slid in with one long thrust. He held tight to Nick’s hips and fucked him with expert precision. The head of his cock scraped against Nick’s prostate as he thrust into him with care. Hard enough so Nick would know that he belonged to him, but not so hard as to cause more pain to his abused ass. Releasing Nick’s hip, he stroked a hand down the broad back. “You’re a good boy, Nicky. My good boy. My sweet boy.” Underneath him, Nick shifted and whimpered. Releasing Nick’s hip, Rory slid his right hand around and gripped Nick’s cock. He held it tight, using the momentum of his hips to make Nick fuck himself in Rory’s hand.