by Jana Downs
Ryan smiled at him anyway. He deserved whatever small comfort he could get from Ryan. “We’ll find something salvageable I’m sure.”
“I hope so.” Bradley bit into his bottom lip. “I think I can drive. So I’ll take my own bike, Sir.” He stepped so smoothly back into the role of Ryan’s sub. It gave him some kind of security to be in that role, and Ryan was grateful for it. However, him being upset and driving wasn’t happening.
“You’ll ride with me,” Ryan said, making sure the order was clear. There was a moment’s hesitation that all the subs Ryan had, where they waffled between the independence they were “supposed” to assert when another male told them what to do and the equally powerful urge to obey their chosen Dominant. Ryan nearly crowed in triumph as the tension seeped out of the scents around them to be replaced by calm acceptance.
Bradley leaned back into him for a moment, and Ryan petted him for doing well. The sub all but purred, “Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Okay, Sir,” Bradley said. He was catching on very quickly. It came naturally, and it would serve him well with other Doms. The idea did not sit well with him.
He took the helmet out of Bradley’s hands and put it on his sub’s head before doing the same to his own. He hated these stupid things. They covered his face, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Plus it looked stupid.
Ryan let go of his lovely sub and swung his leg over his bike before patting the area in front of him. Bradley perched on the front of his motorcycle like he had the other night. “You remember the way, Sir?”
“I got it,” Ryan rumbled, cranking the engine and putting up the kickstand.
Chapter Seven
Bradley wasn’t prepared for what he found at his apartment. The tiny studio above the hardware store was indeed wrecked. The words hadn’t been enough preparation for the sheer devastation of the room. His mattress had been upturned, his clothes strewn, and his pictures of friends smashed. However, that wasn’t what caught his attention. His paints, canvases, and brushes were bits of litter on the floor. Tears of rainbow-colored paint were smeared over the hardwood, and the broken glass from the windows added a crystalline texture to the ruined space. The last five years of his artwork was gone.
Ryan made the mistake of picking up one of the broken canvases. The sound of ripping canvas reached Bradley’s ears, and he whipped around. “Don’t touch anything!” he screamed, furious at the shifter for touching his broken things. “I might be able to repair that if you don’t break it irreparably!”
“Sweet, this is trash,” Ryan said, apologetically. “It’s done. It’s ripped practically in half, and there is not a way to restretch the canvas and make the repair unnoticeable. Do you have the original sketches? Maybe you can duplicate it.”
The shock of Ryan’s apparent knowledge of his art momentarily banked his anger. “You know how to stretch canvas?”
Ryan shrugged. “Yeah. What do you think I went to school for? I was a Fine Arts major. I interned at the shop all four years, and for my senior exhibition I did a gallery showing where I stenciled and tattooed fourteen people along with still exhibitions of tattoo photographs and several large canvas paintings. I knew I was a beta, and as such, by pack law, I have to be one of the ones able to perform any marking for any pack member at any time.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry for your loss, but if you yell at me again, we’re going to have a problem.”
Bradley nodded his acknowledgment of the statement and knelt beside his mattress. His sketchbook was halfway under a downed glass of water that he’d apparently had on his nightstand. “No,” he whispered. “I don’t even have the sketches. They ruined everything.” He swallowed, untold amounts of misery swamping him. To anyone else it might’ve seemed silly, but that was only because they didn’t understand. He’d poured his soul into these sketches, paintings, and charcoals. They had been every expression of who he was.
“Do you have anything at school?” Ryan asked.
“A few pieces that are going to be in my senior exhibition. My professor keeps the big canvases in his office.” That was something at least. He hadn’t lost everything. He raised his eyes. He hadn’t lost his pieces of Ryan. “I don’t know where to start cleaning this up.” He looked around helplessly.
“There is a cleaning service we can use,” Ryan said as Bradley started the slow spiral into renewed panic. “I’ll call them. Gather what you can and try to find a bag to put it in. Whatever you don’t have, we’ll buy at the store later. I plan to keep you naked while you’re at my house.” He dropped the last sentence flawlessly. Bradley’s mind immediately jumped from his broken things to the object of his fascination.
“Really?” he asked suspiciously.
“Yes, really. I plan on fucking you until you forget about the wet paint on your floor,” Ryan rumbled.
Bradley’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m that easy?” Ryan’s earlier words were thrown deliberately back at him.
Ryan smirked at him. “I think I can be pretty convincing.”
“How about here? Now? Don’t fucking tease me, Ryan. I can’t take it.” He felt bruised, broken. He couldn’t handle Ryan dangling the carrot in front of him if he was just going to yank it away again. It was pretty screwed up that Ryan could use himself as a weapon against him. Ryan hesitated, and Bradley growled. “I knew it.”
Ryan reached out and yanked Bradley forward. “You know nothing.” His lips descended on Bradley’s, and untold amounts of pleasure swamped him. Yes. This was just what he needed.
“More,” Bradley breathed as their lips meshed and mated. Ryan licked his mouth, and Bradley opened willingly. He didn’t care if the timing wasn’t what it was supposed to be. He needed something to replace his broken things, and Ryan fit the bill more than adequately. I could lose everything so long as I get you in the end. He could let his paintings go if the man who had become his muse stayed in his life. Don’t let go, Ryan.
Ryan didn’t disappoint. This time he didn’t pull back, didn’t hesitate, and for that Bradley was very grateful. He’d known for months that this man was his destiny, and finally, Ryan was realizing it, too. Their lips merged, tongues tangling as Ryan forced the organ into Bradley’s mouth to spar with his own. Bradley groaned and opened wider, his paintings forgotten for the moment. He needed, and that was all that mattered.
Bradley broke the kiss to drag his shirt over his head and toss it away. Ryan did the same, and then their bare chests pressed against one another. The wolf tweaked Bradley’s pierced nipples, sending a frission of sensation up and down Bradley’s spine. Yes! People always treated his piercings delicately, like they were afraid they’d rip them out or something. Not Ryan. Ryan knew just the right amount of pressure to apply to make Bradley sing.
“So fucking hot,” Ryan rumbled, twisting in the opposite direction and making Bradley come up on his toes in the process. “Such a fucking tease, making me pierce you over and over again.”
“Mine,” Bradley returned, his whole body burning. How could he explain adequately that he needed the marks to feel right about the world? They were Ryan’s ownership put into his flesh, and it had led to more than one masturbation session after Ryan had threaded a needle through his flesh. Ryan attacked his pants, popping the button off the top and all but wrecking the zipper in the process. They fell to his ankles, and Bradley stepped out of them. He hadn’t worn underwear as per usual, and he knew Ryan appreciated the sight of his bare cock by the sharp inhale he made as he stood there for his assessment.
“You bewitch me,” Ryan admitted, kicking off his shoes before stripping off his jeans and tight black boxer-briefs. Bradley resisted the urge to drool at the skin exposed. How often had he fantasized about this moment? He’d wanted it to happen here but not quite like this. It didn’t matter though. It was happening. “I haven’t been able to think about much else but your pretty body since you walked into the shop.”
The admission went straight to Bradle
y’s cock. “I want to be yours always.”
“You’re my sub. That has to be enough for now, Bradley,” Ryan reminded, gripping his arms and all but dragging him down to the hardwood floor. The stickiness at his back said that Ryan had pushed him into a puddle of his paints, but he didn’t mind. There was something intoxicating about rolling around the ground, smearing one another with his art.
“Enough,” Bradley agreed an instant before Ryan’s lips covered his once more. The delicious pressure of the larger body above him made Bradley’s eyes roll. His mate was just the right amount of everything. Mine. He threaded his hands through Ryan’s blond hair and arched against the hard planes of his abdomen. Take me. Please, take me. They stayed that way for endless moments, grinding and kissing until both of them were smeared with the paint and their combined pre-cum.
Ryan broke their kiss. “Where is your slick?” Ryan asked, his voice a low growl of sound. Bradley trembled, his brain taking a moment to process what the other man had asked.
The destruction of his place was absolute. “I don’t know.” Where had it been? “Bathroom?”
“Where?”
He pointed vaguely off to the direction of the small bath adjacent to the kitchen. Ryan pushed off him, and Bradley whimpered at the lost contact. “No.”
“Shh, sweet. I’ll be right back.” He paused halfway across the space. “Don’t you dare touch your cock until I come.”
The order wrapped around Bradley’s balls and squeezed. “Yes, Sir.” He’d meant for it to come out as sarcastic, but it sounded breathy instead. Ryan growled and beelined for the bathroom. The urge to disobey and give himself a little relief was strong. What would Ryan do if he disobeyed? Would he do like the vampire in the story did? Would he spank him? The thought sent a shiver of anticipation through him. He wanted that.
The sounds of bottles being tossed around filled the air as Ryan tore through his wrecked bathroom in an effort to find his bottle of slick. On the floor, Bradley smiled. He liked this eager side of Ryan. With a moment’s hesitation, he reached down and wrapped his fist around his cock, groaning at the sensation that made him buck up into his sure touch. He knew just how to jerk himself off and maximize the pleasure. His eyes slid shut, and he imagined Ryan’s reaction when he returned from the bathroom. A dozen possibilities flickered through his thoughts.
His Ryan was a true Dom. He wouldn’t take Bradley’s disobedience well. He resisted the urge to grin at the erotic possibilities his displeasure would bring. Maybe he’d order him to his knees and suck him again. Maybe he’d spank his ass and then fuck him. God, yeah. That’s what I want.
Ryan’s displeased voice filled the room. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Bradley didn’t miss a beat. “Playing. Being bad.” He opened his eyes slowly to see the wolf towering over him, a small bottle of unopened lube in his hand. He swallowed as a little fissure of fear opened up inside him. He hadn’t considered the possibility that Ryan’s punishment might mean more depravation. Would he not want him as a sub if he didn’t obey him absolutely?
“Ah, so the sub realizes that topping from the bottom might not be a good idea,” Ryan said, a sadistic smile on his face.
“What’s topping from the bottom?” Bradley asked, his hand slowing on his prick before it stopped all together. His arousal still dripped pre-cum, begging for attention, but Ryan had captivated his attention.
“It means you deliberately disobey me in hopes of getting a certain reaction for your disobedience. New subs tend to do that more than more experienced ones. So what did you want me to do, Bradley?”
Bradley trembled. “I wanted…I wanted you to spank me before you fucked me.”
Ryan growled. “Next time you will ask for it instead of disobeying me. I won’t have a sub topping me.”
“I can ask for stuff? Isn’t it just punishment?”
“Stop getting your information from bad pornos. Of course you can ask for things in a scene. You’ve never had an issue asking for shit before.” He stared down at him, looking like a king thoroughly displeased with his latest conquest. “Because you didn’t know, I will let this slide. But next time you won’t get my cock for days if you pull something like this. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Bradley murmured, feeling thoroughly chastised. He sat up, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “You don’t have to fuck me. I broke my rule.” As much as he wanted to scream at himself to shut up and let it slide, he couldn’t. He’d broken one of three rules he’d been given to obey. Maybe he wasn’t meant to be a submissive after all…
Ryan moved suddenly, all but tackling Bradley back down to the ground. “You also do not get to give me permission to do anything, including fucking you, boy.”
Bradley’s head swam. This was going to take some getting used to. “I’m sorry.”
“No. Bradley, look at me.” He did. “There is no shame in messing up. Everyone does. Even me. You are beautiful and mine, and I want to give you something to make you feel good. Do you feel like you need consequences for deliberately breaking your rule?”
Bradley nodded slowly. He felt like until he made up for it, he wouldn’t be forgiven even if Ryan said it was all right.
Ryan sighed. “Oh you beautiful boy.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Bradley’s lips. “Have you ever had a spanking, sweet?”
“Kind of. Once. I liked it.”
“Bet you haven’t had one like I can give you,” Ryan said. “You owe me fifteen for your disobedience, and then all is forgiven and you will enjoy our sex.”
A thrill shot through Bradley. “Thank you, Sir.”
Ryan reached out and briefly cupped his cheek before pushing off of him and rolling away. Bradley sat up and stared at his mate hungrily. What was he supposed to do? Ryan pushed himself to his feet and crossed to the window that faced the side of the building where he’d parked his bike.
“Can you see the alley from the road?” he asked.
Bradley frowned. “Not that I know of.” The hardware store didn’t even have a window on that side, and the building next to it had been vacant for months. “You’d have to be looking hard. Why?”
“Don’t bring your clothes and come,” Ryan commanded, walking over to the side door that led to the fire escape and dumped into the side where the bike was parked. Bradley rolled to his feet and followed, his heart pounding. What was his Ryan thinking?
* * * *
I’m going to hell and am out of my damn mind. Risking arrest or the stalker seeing them should have made what Ryan was thinking utter madness, but unfortunately all the blood used to fuel logic had lodged quite firmly in his permanent hard-on. Bradley had looked so lost once he realized what he’d done and how unhappy it had made Ryan that the “punishment” that he was about to dole out had seemed a perfect solution.
“It’s cold,” Bradley complained as they reached the bottom of the metal stairs and stepped out onto the cold pavement. The temperature didn’t seem to have any effect on their hard cocks however.
“Deal with it. It’s punishment, remember?” Ryan asked, forcing his voice to seem stern and detached.
Bradley let out a little moan of sound, his cock jerking. “Yes, Sir.”
It figured that Bradley wouldn’t let their first time together to be vanilla. The boy was determined to fit neatly into Ryan’s life, and so it only fit that he would make their first time together some kind of kinky scene. Can I walk after this? His wolf had serious doubts. The shadow that clung to him, his wolf, reached out for Bradley, wanting to touch. Ryan yanked it back. No. They couldn’t. The wolf whimpered in protest. He was his trainer, soon to be his lover, but he wouldn’t be his mate.
Ryan pointed to his bike. “Lay over the seat, ass in the air.” Bradley obeyed, and Ryan had to put a restraining hand on his erection to keep from shooting his load right then and there. Fuck that was sexy. The blond-haired minx leaning over his motorcycle while Ryan took him had been his most potent fantasy since the boy walked i
nto the shop. What do you know, dreams really do come true. Bradley made another noise of want and arched his spine so that his plump little ass rose in blatant invitation. They would have to be quiet.
The saddle bag on the side of the bike beckoned, and Ryan walked over and opened it. The bandana inside would work nicely as a gag. He folded it appropriately and put a hand on Bradley’s lower back. “Open your mouth, boy,” he commanded. His dick waved in protest. It would’ve much rather have been the one to go inside the boy’s lush mouth. Trying to be patient with Bradley was a test of his sanity. He tied the bandana around Bradley’s head so that the middle of it muffled any sounds the boy could make by virtue of fitting into the boy’s mouth. “Now stay still and take your punishment.”
He switched the slick to his free hand before bringing his other hand down with a crack on Ryan’s unguarded ass. The boy whimpered, arching back into the strike. “Don’t.” Smack. “Ever.” Smack. “Forget.” Smack. “Who.” Smack. “You.” Smack. “Belong.” Smack. “To.” Bradley gave a muffled cry as Ryan’s hand landed again with enough force that the mark he’d made went stark white before filling with a rosy red. Oh Bradley colored nicely.
Bradley started rocking his hips back and forth, swaying the way some subs did when they started to descend into subspace. Yes. That was where he wanted his submissive to be. He wanted him to forget about paintings and stalkers and their future. He just wanted Bradley to feel him in this moment. He squeezed the angry red flesh, and Bradley shuddered. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he admitted, landing another three blows in rapid succession. “Always wondered how you’d look across my bike.” He popped him again, a little lighter this time. “Last three, boy. Take them gracefully and I’ll fill you up right here across my bike.” He switched hands, popping his other cheek for contrast. Bradley continued to rock back into the blows, making little noises of want with each fall of Ryan’s hand. He’d been right. The boy was a natural.