Bound To Surrender BN

by Jenna Jacobjenna Jacob

  What do you think about adopting a baby someday? Trevor’s question echoed in his head.

  When Julianna had given birth to her son, his sub was in awe of the child. After Mika and Julianna brought the baby home, Trevor had stayed with them and prepared meals, gone to the grocery store, and done their laundry. He even took care of the baby so the couple could get some much-needed rest in the beginning. He’d bonded with the boy instantly.

  Sitting in the rocker with the little one nuzzled against his chest, Drake finally understood Trevor’s driving desire to have a family. Without a doubt, his boy would make a phenomenal father. Would he as well? Did he have the patience needed? It would be a huge lifestyle adjustment for the two of them. There was also the stigma of a child having two daddies and no mother. Other gay and lesbian couples adopted all the time. Still, he wondered how they shielded their innocent children from hateful slurs and bullying.

  Maybe it wasn’t as difficult as Drake thought. He couldn’t deny that Tristan’s warmth and innocence called to something primal and paternal inside him. But also, something viscerally protective awakened. If he and Trevor had a child of their own, Drake would sacrifice anything and everything to provide a safe, stable, and loving home for him or her.

  Don’t even start to go there. Trevor isn’t in any shape to take on the responsibility of a baby, his subconscious reminded cynically. Hell, his slave could barely make it through the day without coming unhinged.

  Tristan raised his head. With wet thumb and all, he cupped his tiny hands around Drake’s face. His heart tripped and he couldn’t help but grin.

  “Me hungwy, Unk Dwake.”

  “I am, too. Let’s go down to the kitchen and see what we can find. Want to?”

  “I wan nuggies.”

  “Nuggies?”

  “Uh-huh shicken nuggies.”

  “Oh.” Drake nodded. “Chicken nuggets, huh?”

  Tristan nodded and grinned. He felt a physical void when the little boy climbed from his lap, taking with him all the heartwarming possibilities that had danced through Drake’s veins.

  Tucking his disappointment away, Drake took the toddler’s hand. Together they made their way to the kitchen, leaving Trevor to hopefully sleep soundly.

  After popping the requested shicken nuggies into the oven, Drake attempted to seat Tristan in his high chair. Unable to figure out how to slide the damn tray back on, he opted for a kitchen chair.

  “We’ll sit at the table like a couple of big men today. How’s that sound?” Drake asked.

  “You aweady a big man.” Tristan scowled.

  He couldn’t help but laugh. While he washed a handful of fresh berries and poured some milk, Tristan sat singing nursery rhymes. Drake found himself humming and soon singing along. His deep baritone voice made the toddler giggle. When he started dancing around the kitchen, the little boy howled. While executing a moving rendition of “Old King Cole,” Drake donned a dishtowel as a cape, and thrust the catsup bottle into the air like a staff. Trevor strolled into the room. He stopped and stared. The look of shock on his face soon morphed into a huge grin. Drake stopped singing and felt his cheeks grow hot, embarrassed to be caught acting the fool.

  Trevor rushed to him and planted a sultry kiss on his lips. “That was the most precious thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Drake waggled his brows and chuckled. “Oh, yeah? If you’re a good boy, I’ll sing it for you later. In private.”

  “Unk Twebbor. You waked-ed up.” Tristan bolted from his seat and wrapped his fat little arms around Trevor’s legs.

  Scooping him off the floor and into his arms, the man nodded. “I woke up and you were gone. I thought you were playing hide-and-seek, but I found you!”

  The warmth of love that glowed in Trevor’s face and in his voice was like a kick to Drake’s gut. In that instant, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that someday he would sit his sub down and discuss becoming fathers.

  Trevor placed the little one in his high chair. When he slid the lid in place smoothly, Drake rolled his eyes. As he dished up Tristan’s food, Mika strolled into the room. His chest was puffed out like a proud rooster and a cocky smile curled his lips. Drake barked out a laugh.

  “Something smells good. I’m starving.”

  “Worked up an appetite, did you?” Drake taunted.

  “Oh, yeah,” he boasted.

  “Mommy?” Tristan leaned to one side as he peered behind Mika.

  “Mommy is taking a nap, sweetheart. She was tired.”

  Trevor snorted. “Daddy wore her out.”

  “What you do, Daddy?” Tristan scowled at his father.

  “We were talking about insurance,” Mika lied with a straight face. “She wore herself out counting.”

  Trevor chortled and quickly covered his mouth.

  “Me can count, too,” Tristan proudly touted.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  As the three men sat in the kitchen, devouring one of the pizzas Drake ordered, Trevor watched Tristan roll his trucks and cars on the hardwoods. For the first time in a long time, he felt at ease. He’d actually slept a few hours nightmare free. It filled him with a sense of accomplishment. Trevor hoped the time he and Drake had spent in Tony’s room, along with the conversation they’d had in the car, might indicate a turning point. Not only for himself but for Drake and their relationship as a whole.

  “Would you like that, boy?” Drake asked.

  Trevor blinked and shot his Master a vacant stare. “I’m sorry, I was off in my head. What did you say?”

  “Since it’s not too bitterly cold, would you like to take a walk along the shore?”

  “Yes.” Trevor smiled. “I’d like that a lot.”

  “You two go ahead,” Mika suggested. “I’ll clean up here, then Tristan and I will wake up Mommy with tickles.”

  “Tickle Mommy? Yeah.” Tristan laughed, then turned stone-cold sober. “She not like that, Daddy.”

  “I know. That’s why we’re going to do it,” Mika replied with an evil grin.

  Drake snorted and stood. Rounding the table, he took Trevor by the hand and helped him from his chair. “Come on, gorgeous. I want to watch the wind blow your pretty hair before you hack it off.”

  Trevor shot him a pensive look.

  “What?” Mika choked. “You’re not cutting off your hair, are you, boy?”

  “I-I was thinking about it.” Stammering, he didn’t miss the uneasy glance between the two Doms. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

  “It’s just hair, Trev. It’ll grow back.” Mika scrubbed a palm over his bald-head. “Or you can shave it off like mine.”

  “No, he can’t,” Drake thundered with a glare.

  “Gotcha,” he laughed.

  Drake rolled his eyes. “You get a little and automatically turn into a comedian.”

  “Hey, getting lucky is a luxury these days.” Mika darted a pointed took toward his son.

  After donning their coats, he and Drake stepped out onto the deck. The wind nipped at his ears and nose.

  “Are you going to be warm enough?”

  “I’m fine.” An impish grin tugged Trevor’s lips. “If I get cold, you’ll keep me warm. Won’t you?”

  A carnal laugh rolled off his lover’s tongue. “No. I’ll keep you hot, writhing, and begging, my sweet slut.”

  “You always do, Master.”

  As Drake slung his arm around Trevor’s shoulder, he wrapped his own around the big man’s waist. Safe and protected, the way he always felt with his Master, the two made their way to the water’s edge. The sun warmed Trevor’s face as the wind whipped his hair. Drake slowed and pulled him against his steely body. His lover snaked his fingers through his blond mane.

  Clenching the strands in a sturdy fist, Drake’s expression turned solemn. “I don’t want you to cut your hair, boy.”

  “You don’t?” he asked, grateful that the man had finally voiced his honest opinion.

  “No. I won’t be able to do this.” He gave a
hard tug. The sting that zipped over Trevor’s scalp caused him to suck in a gasp. “Or hear that sweet sound you always make.”

  Dipping his head, Drake slanted a tender kiss over Trevor’s mouth. If he’d been barefoot, he would have curled his toes in the sand, because they involuntarily clutched inside his shoes. Drake’s tongue slid over the seam of his lips, and he opened, willingly inviting it inside to dance and swirl with his own.

  Swallowing Drake’s growl, he delighted in the pulsation vibrating inside his mouth. Drake never failed to turn him inside out. Skimming his hands over the man’s muscled back, Trevor issued a pitiful and needy mewl. His cock grew, stretching to the point of pain as their kiss turned wild and desperate.

  “Christ, I want to take you here in the sand,” Drake snarled.

  He leaned in once again, but instead of a loving kiss, the man sank his teeth into Trevor’s bottom lip and tugged hard. A wave of heat enveloped him, and Trevor ground his hips, rubbing his ready hardness against Drake’s fat erection.

  With an animalistic snarl, Drake jerked from Trevor’s mouth. Gripping his wrist, the man hauled him into a dense cluster of white pines. Obscured from any prying eyes, his Master pulled him to a stop, then shoved his back up against a tall tree. Lust, like quicksilver, shimmered in Drake’s eyes, and a hungry, wicked smile curled the corners of his mouth.

  “On your knees, boy. I want to feel your sinful mouth around me.”

  His own cock jerked at his lover’s command. Instantly, Trevor dropped to the soft earth. His hands trembled in excitement as he unfastened the button on Drake’s jeans and carefully released the zipper. His heavy cock launched forward. Thick. Swollen. Red. As he gazed at his Master’s impressive erection, Trevor’s mouth watered as clear beads bloomed atop the smooth, wide crest. Without waiting for Drake’s order to open, Trevor parted his lips, relaxed his jaw, and extended his tongue.

  A guttural curse rolled off the man’s lips as he gripped his cock and shoved it to the back of Trevor’s throat. Gripping his powerful thighs, Trevor anchored himself, squeezing his fingers over the man’s granite-like muscles. As if needing a mooring of his own, Drake wrapped his fist into Trevor’s hair and held him in place while he plunged in and out with fast, urgent strokes.

  Uninhibited. Wild. Free. Drake pounded against his throat, rutting in and out of his mouth, like an animal. Trevor’s cock screamed. His senses roared. And he accepted each crazed lunge with a muffled grunt and a scrape of his tongue as he lapped at his Master’s slapping balls. Closing his eyes, Trevor inhaled the pungent erotic scent while Drake’s coarse pubic hair teased and tickled his nose.

  Suddenly, a crow screeched and flapped its wings overhead. Trevor’s eyes flashed open wide as he peered up at Drake. His Master didn’t flinch. Afraid of being caught, Trevor darted a glance to the left and right. He didn’t see a thing but the rippled abs and colorful tattoos that adorned his lover’s stomach. Trevor knew Drake was close. The man’s balls hardened on his tongue, the musky scent grew stronger, and the juices sliding over his tongue took on the tart and pungent flavor of testosterone. Doubling his efforts, Trevor bobbed franticly as Drake gripped his hair tighter. Slashes of fire streaked from his scalp, down his back, and settled deep within his throbbing shaft.

  Slamming all the way to the back of his throat, Drake stilled.

  “Take it all, slave,” he snarled in a raspy bark.

  He stifled a whimper, opting to hold on to the air trapped in his lungs. A split second later, Drake’s shaft expanded. His seed fluttered and spasmed beneath the skin on Trevor’s tongue before jettisoning down his throat. Opening wider, he tilted his head back, greedily swallowing his Master’s slick treasure.

  Grunting, Drake pulled the crest back slightly, emptying into Trevor’s mouth. He inhaled deeply, refilling his lungs as he lapped the salty nectar from the shaft all the way to the tip. Drake’s panting groans and growls were music to Trevor’s ears. He’d pleased his Master, and the euphoria spread through him like the rays of the sun, warm and blinding.

  After several long minutes, Drake pulled from his mouth and drew him up off the ground by his hair.

  “You’ve earned a treat, slave,” he murmured before sealing his lips over Trevor’s in a ruthless kiss. “Maybe I’ll take you to the dungeon when we get back.”

  Trevor’s heart nearly leapt from his chest. Dungeon? It had been a little over a month since he’d attempted to scene with Trevor at Genesis. Unfortunately, everything had gone to hell in a matter of seconds. Not because of him or his Master but because one of the least respected Dominants of the club, Master Kerr, had stumbled into the dungeon after being shot by an unknown assailant. The aftermath that ensued had rocked Trevor to his core. Drake had ripped off Trevor’s ropes in seconds before he lifted him into his arms and hustled him away from the carnage. Inside his private room, he’d kept a steadfast vigil by Trevor’s side. Drake hadn’t even ventured back into the dungeon to see if anyone needed help.

  “Boy?”

  His Master’s voice drew him back from his musing. He looked up and saw the same pensive, uncertain expression lining Drake’s face once more. Trevor had no idea how he was ever going to wipe away Drake’s fear of pushing the wrong button. But he was bound and determined to find a way. Reaching up, he smoothed a hand over Drake’s face and sent him a tender smile.

  “Yes, Master. I’d love you to take me to the dungeon. I can’t think of any place I’d rather be to please you.”

  “Trust me. You’ve pleased me…thoroughly. I aim to return the favor.”

  Drake tucked his cock back into his jeans before he buttoned and zipped up. With Trevor snug against his side, the two men wound their way out of the trees and back to the sandy shore. As they headed back toward the house, Drake whispered all the nasty things he planned to do to Trevor. Even if the big man only followed through on half of his enticing promises, Trevor would be a sore, sated, and a deliciously happy slave.

  As they turned up the stairs of the deck, Drake’s cell phone began to ring. Tugging the device from his pocket, he slid his arm off Trevor’s shoulders and pressed the talk button.

  “Drake,” he answered.

  “Reed here. Just checking in to see how things are going on your end.”

  The sound of Mika’s lawyer, Reed Landes, the attorney who would represent Trevor at his upcoming trial against the five frat boys, shredded his euphoria like razor blades on silk. A wave of terror ripped through him, and Trevor’s entire body froze. Drake’s face lined with concern as he drew Trevor in closer. Clutched tightly, Trevor could hear the lawyer’s words clearly.

  “We’re doing okay,” Drake replied. “Trev’s working real hard. Progress is slow, but he’s coming along. Do you have news about the trial?”

  “Yes. That’s why I’m calling,” Reed replied. “The defendants’ parents either pooled their 401(k)s or cashed in their kids’ trust funds, but all five are being represented by a national firm based out of New York. They tout themselves as Houdinis of defense. Personally, I think they’re a bunch of pompous pricks, and I’m looking forward to knocking them off their pretentious pedestals.”

  “I have no doubt you will, but I want all five of them to serve time. Hard time.”

  “It’s a hate crime, Moses. There’s no way they won’t serve time,” Reed assured. “I’m sure they’ll try to plea-bargain, but no judge is going to accept one without some teeth in it. The press is going to have a field day with this as it is. But a plea agreement would alleviate a lot of stress for Trevor.”

  “He wouldn’t have to testify then, would he?” Drake’s voice took on an anxious timbre.

  “I’ve already spoken to Judge Pratt. He’s good, fair, and sympathetic to the emotional stress Trevor’s going through. He’s also agreed to question Trev privately, in his chambers. Of course, the suits from New York will be there, but he won’t have to sit on the stand and look at the pricks who assaulted him.”

  Reed’s words sent a tidal wave of r
elief crashing through Trevor. Tears leaked from his eyes, he sank to his knees on the deck. The angry, dark clouds parted, and for the first time in months, he could see a trace of blue sky.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Panic slammed him, and Drake nearly dropped the phone as Trevor slid from his arms. “Hold on, Reed!”

  Kneeling next to his boy, his heart beat like a sledgehammer against his ribs. Gripping Trevor’s shoulders, he gave him a gentle shake. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Don’t do this—”

  “No, I’m not upset. I-I’m happy,” Trevor cried. “I didn’t want to have to face those monsters.”

  He exhaled. “No, you won’t.” Before he clutched the phone back to his ear, Drake kissed the top of his lover’s head. He, too, was filled with relief on Trevor’s behalf.

  “I’m back. Please go on, Reed.”

  “Judge Pratt will take Trevor’s private deposition; however, if a plea bargain isn’t reached, he’ll still have to sit in the courtroom throughout the proceedings. He won’t have to take the stand. I know that’s weighed heavily on your and Trevor’s minds.”

  Drake felt a shudder pass through his boy’s body. He sent up a silent prayer asking that a deal be reached so they could put this crap-tastic nightmare behind them and move on.

  Julianna hurried onto the deck and rushed to Trevor’s side. Drake shut out their whispered voices and focused on the lawyer’s words.

  “So three weeks from Monday, the twenty-seventh, you and Trevor meet me in my office at seven in the morning. We’ll head over to the courthouse from there. Will that work for you two?”

  “Definitely, we’ll be there.”

  “Excellent. Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll get this handled one way or the other.”

  The other was what worried him. Ending the call, Drake tucked his phone away and wiped Trevor’s eyes with the pads of his thumbs.

  “If it does go to trial, you won’t even have to look at them, sweetheart,” Julianna guaranteed as if he’d be able to simply ignore them. Drake knew better. “Just keep your eyes on the judge and pretend those assholes aren’t in the room.”