Stirring at his side, Matt tipped his head back and rested his hand on his chest. “Have you ever brought up Vincent like that before without...without it bringing back bad memories?”
Lawson shook his head. “No. He was always...that dark place I avoided. A weakness.” He pressed his eyes shut as the one thing he hadn’t shared with Matt crept to the surface. “He came for me after I began living with Noah. He’d followed me and Noah’s mother home from the store and knew I was staying in the guest house. This all came out later, but all I know is he was there. Waiting for me. He had a gun…”
Matt stroked his hand over Lawson’s chest, but didn’t speak.
So Lawson kept going. “With the training I have now, I could have disarmed him. But that night I just stood there, fucking terrified. He wanted me to go back with him. I said yes, but I heard Noah and his mother in the backyard and I knew they’d try to stop him from taking me. One of them could get shot. So, I grabbed the gun. We fought over it and it went off.”
Hand stilling on his chest, Matt eased up to a sitting position. “You saved them.”
“I…” That was the same thing Noah had said, over and over, whenever the subject came up. But Lawson could never see it that way. “I did what I had to do. But even knowing he was dead, by my own hands, he still wasn’t gone for the longest time. In some ways, he never will be.” Lawson pulled Matt over him, cupping his face in his hands. “But in all the ways that matter, I don’t see him anymore.”
He held Matt’s gaze, giving him the one truth that mattered more than anything in the choices they’d both made. The only reason he could move on. That he could believe his life, his freedom, meant anything after he’d been searching for the answer for so long.
“All I see is you.”
Epilogue
Music and muscle were in full swing at The Asylum’s annual all-member challenge. Anyone was up for grabs other than collared subs, for both fighting and darker pleasures. In-demand subs and Doms traded a night in the dungeon for a year’s membership dues, while fights among others determined who would pay the fees. For the victor, it would be winner-take-all.
Testosterone running high, men jockeyed for position at the bar, attempting to get Reed’s attention for refills as he scrambled to keep up. Wearing an all-white T that read I’m yours! with a matching bandana emblazoned with the words Spank me…, he looked like he was having anything but fun as the other men paired up for the night while he took money and shoved drinks into their hands.
Fingering the padlocked chain around his neck—one of two of Lawson’s conditions that allowed him to be downstairs tonight—Matt wondered if he should dive in and help. Problem was, he wouldn’t even be able to get to the bar.
Reed briefly met his eyes over the heads of the crowd, and Matt gave him a Dude tell me what I can do shrug, both palms up.
Mouthing “Pull the fire alarm” Reed winked. Matt glanced to the far wall and back to Reed, who’s eyes went wide with his cross-hand wave and head shake. “No!”
Matt grinned. The guy didn’t need to worry. He was on strict orders to be on his best behavior tonight. No fights. No shenanigans. If he was good, Lawson had promised him a night alongside whatever guy he happened to best in tonight’s fight. So far, nobody stupid enough to challenge him had walked in the door. Which suited Matt just fine.
The upstairs doors had been secured, the dungeon given a once over, and the gymnasium-come-arena cleaned until its floors shone. Musk and leather, darker spirits, and lemon oil swirled on the air. The bar lighting casting a warm glow over the wood and brass fixtures, and the pool tables’ green baize. Men gathered around the tables, enjoying a friendly game, while others laughed over a very unserious rendition of strip-darts.
Matt tipped his beer to his lips and sank into the heady atmosphere. He’d rarely been in a crowd and been this comfortable. Knowing he was untouchable, hearing a few of the men call him Law’s boy had him preening. The beer’s light buzz loosened him further, and he swayed to the music, fingering the chain around his neck.
Coming from his last once-over of the dungeon, Curtis skipped down the stairs, alighting in the bar with his trademark swagger, his gaze making a beeline for Reed who stiffened almost imperceptibly but never looked his way. Catching Matt’s stare, Curtis smirked and forded through the throng.
Stopping before Matt, Curtis dipped his gaze. “Nice jewelry.”
Matt, eyes narrowing, dropped his hand. No way was the dude going to make fun of Lawson’s gift and get away with it, promise or no promise.
“Tisk.” Curtis wagged his finger. “Don’t get your skinny jeans in a bunch. It was a legit compliment. Looks good on you.”
Matt pressed his lips together, nostrils flaring, as Reed bounded up to them, an overly bright grin on his face. “C’mon Matt. Our slot at the tables just came up.”
Slot at the tables?
Matt cast Reed a quizzical look and caught Curtis’s sly smirk out of the corner of his eye. The men were up to something.
Looping his arm through Matt’s, Reed leaned in close. “Stick with me. Curtis has been dying to get you on your knees in a crowd. Don’t open your mouth and give him the chance.”
Just thinking of what Lawson had promised to do to him if he so much as said Achoo! with a sneeze tonight made Matt’s ass cheeks clench. Breathing deep, he widened his eyes at Reed in thanks.
“Don’t mention it.” Reed grabbed a pool cue and tossed it to Matt, who caught it one-handed and put his beer bottle down on the thin table underneath the reservation blackboard where his and Reed’s names were scrawled in the bartender’s loopy handwriting in pink chalk.
Matt frowned. How had Reed known Curtis would bait him at seven?
Reed rolled his eyes. “Stop overthinking. I knew he’d come down after the dungeon check and head straight for you.”
Matt nodded, shoulders relaxing, and chalked up his cue. Reed set the balls and they tossed for the break, Reed winning. Matt leaned against the wall, one hand on his cue, the other casually circling his middle, to watch.
Wearing thin black leathers that suctioned so snugly they lifted and defined each round ass cheek, Reed bent low, lined up his cue and wiggled into position.
Curtis, who had taken up the space next to Matt, shifted slightly, eyes narrowing. “I thought I told you to burn those things?”
Slowly, Reed looked over his shoulder, pinned Curtis with his best taunting stare and ran his tongue along his lips.
“You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’, boy.” Curtis issued a warning that was only guaranteed to make Reed bait him further.
Fuck.
Reed wasn’t the man’s submissive and Curtis had no right. All of this Matt said with his eyes, stepping in front of Curtis and guaranteeing the man would have to get around him first to get to Reed.
Curtis’s mouth twisted into a wry grin, his gaze dipping to Matt’s mouth. “Got something to say?”
Letting out a frustrated growl, Matt balled his fists. Behind him, Reed took the shot, the echo of the balls ricocheting around the walls. A small crowd had formed, probably to watch Reed’s ass as he wriggled into position again, missing this time.
“You’re up, Matt.” Reed did a pirouette, dancing to the music’s provocative beat, dipped his lashes and cast one of the other men a come-hither glance.
Which the other man ignored.
Biting back a warning not to test Curtis’s patience, Matt leaned over the table and took his shot. Sunk a couple of the striped balls, then prowled around the table for his next target. The music changed, grew more sultry, darker notes rolling over the room. Back to the bar, he sensed more than saw a shift in the air when Lawson entered the room.
He sunk another ball, and lined up the next, needing to lean lower than Reed had on the break, and pushed his hips back to get just the right—
Heated fingers gripped his hips, digging lightly.
Matt froze, breath catching, and the cue jumped, knocking the ball a fe
w inches into the air. Leaning over Matt, the line of his torso pressing along Matt’s back, Lawson brought his lips to Matt’s ear. “You speak only to safeword. Nod if you understand.”
Fantasies he’d harbored in the most secret part of his mind unfurled with Lawson’s command. Cheeks heating, Matt licked his lips, nodding.
The room dimmed as someone lowered the lights, and everything else receded, Lawson’s presence behind him taking up his full attention. He was safe here, he reminded himself. Nothing would happen that he didn’t want.
“Don’t move.” Lawson issued his command so the rest of the men could hear. Snapped his fingers and someone approached.
Sweetness like candy tickled Matt’s nostrils.
Reed’s cologne.
Reaching around Matt’s waist, Lawson jerked open the snap to Matt’s jeans on the music’s downbeat, tugged his zipper in a slow slide. Slipped his hand inside the denim, and cupped and squeezed Matt’s sac, stopping just short of pain.
Matt sucked air between his teeth, legs shaking with the effort to hold his position.
“I’ve been hard all day thinking about you like this.” Lawson’s breath grazed Matt’s ear, the thrust of his hips showing Matt exactly what his dirtiest fantasy did to them both.
Reed took the pool cue, slipping it from Matt’s fingers. Scooped up the balls, and dropped them into the pockets, clearing the table, while Lawson brought his lips to Matt’s neck in sharp nips and sucks.
“I’m going to bare your ass now, boy, and let everyone see what I’m going to fuck.” Teeth abrading tender flesh, Lawson left his mark. “You’re going to let them see what they can’t have, like a good boy, and make me proud.”
Lawson growled at Matt’s answering whimper, a warning, and pulled away.
Matt dragged oxygen through his nostrils as Reed gently positioned his elbows on the table to spread out a rubber sheet, its purpose clear.
Things were going to get messy.
Working Matt’s jeans down his legs, kissing and biting the place where ass met thigh as he went, Lawson divested Matt of his modesty. Tapped his ankles sharply to make him lift first one foot and then the other.
Reed took his jeans, shoes, and briefs away, and Lawson leaned forward, fisting Matt’s hair to pull him upright. One hand around the base of Matt’s cock, Lawson snugged Matt’s ass against his groin, lowered his hand to Matt’s jaw, and pulled his head around to claim his lips in a merciless tongue fucking that left Matt in no doubt as to how long and hard Lawson would ride him.
He curled his fingers into his palms, drawing strength from the pain as, in a rush, he saw the impossibility of his future bearing down upon him. He could no more win against Law in this challenge than he’d been able to in the ring. The only difference was that losing this time was everything, and he didn’t want to win. He just wanted to hold out long enough to make Law proud.
Sweat rolled down his nose, salting his mouth when Lawson captured his lips with his tongue. Other than the music’s grinding rhythm and the harsh gasp of his own breaths, Matt would have sworn the bar was empty. Except he knew all eyes were on him. Reed, Curtis, Doc, and Dallas among them.
God.
On his next inhale, Lawson broke the kiss, clasped both wrists in one hand and drew Matt’s shirt over his head. Dressed only in his collar, Matt began to lower his arms, remembered too late for Lawson not to notice.
A shove between his shoulder blades had him catching himself as he bent over the pool table’s edge. His stomach bottomed out on the adrenaline and sent his awareness soaring when Lawson’s hand rained down on his ass. Each blow lifted him up on his toes, his dick bobbing like it didn’t have a care in the world. Finally, Lawson’s hand curled around Matt’s throat, his palm hot from the spanking. Fingers splaying, he covered Matt’s chin and throat with the whole of his hand and kicked Matt’s legs wide, first one and then the other.
Head pulled back, Matt squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to register the men who murmured their approval now, their heavy sighs and appreciative laughter filling the room with the musk and heat of sex.
Slick fingers probed at his hole, one hand widening his cheeks as, Lawson readied him to take his cock. Matt breathed, pressing back and earned Lawson’s “Good boy” for his efforts. His stomach somersaulted again, the lift of joy more-than making up for his brief failure.
Reed flitted around the pool table, just outside of Matt’s line of sight, and returned, to fasten something soft and rubbery just under the crown of Matt’s dick. Lawson added more fingers to Matt’s hole, shoving to his third knuckle so the heel of his palm impacted Matt’s still stinging cheeks with each stroke. Lawson’s hand on Matt’s throat kept him from rocking forward, adding a pressure that he increased with each hard swallow.
Lawson leaned in, bringing his cheek level with Matt’s. “I’m going to fuck you now, boy. Open your eyes and watch what you do to every man here.”
Biting back a moan, Matt blinked open his eyes and did his best to obey.
At the head of the table stood the most familiar. Curtis’s hands curled over Reed’s shoulders, his gaze one of heated admiration. Matt’s attention skipped to Reed, whose cheeks sported high spots of color. Doc, dressed in full leathers, complete with his signature black leather gloves, held his hand over the mouth and nose of his latest boy, a red-headed twink with vivid green eyes and a pretty blush.
Nostrils flaring, Matt licked his lips and fixed his attention on Curtis as one of the man’s darker smiles widened his mouth. Fingers tightening along Matt’s jaw, Lawson pressed forward with the wide head of his cock. Matt breathed in sharply, exhaled slowly, and bore down, willing the ring of muscle to relax. Lawson groaned as Matt’s body adjusted to allow him entry.
Stretching fullness accompanied the first few thrusts, then turned pleasurable. He’d begun to relax into the rhythm when Reed’s diabolical cock ring buzzed to life. Matt jerked upward, sending both him and Lawson stumbling. He tried to right himself, failed, and stumbled again. A bite to his shoulder stilled him, though his body trembled with the effort. If he came now, Lawson would be humiliated, and Matt was pretty sure his own fun wouldn’t be as complete as if he’d waited.
“Steady on.” Lawson’s hand wrapped around Matt’s throat with his next full-seated thrust. “We’re not nearly finished.”
The buzzing intensified and retreated in a predictable rhythm, much like Lawson’s thrust and withdrawal, each stroke edging Matt closer and closer to his release. His balls tightened, his toes curled, and he pictured his come landing all over the table in front of the men. A few bills began quietly changing hands, whispered murmurs on how long he’d last and how far he’d lose his load across the table reaching his ears.
Matt’s cheeks blazed, but pre-come trailed down his shaft, cooling as it made its way to the base. Still, Lawson fucked him in those slow, maddening strokes that missed his prostate and slid by in a tantalizing near-miss every so often that had a whimper building in the back of his throat.
“You’re not going to disobey me and come, are you boy?” Lawson gripped Matt’s throat, fingers tightening and releasing in time to his thrusts. “Not when I went to all this trouble to show everyone how good you are?”
Matt didn’t dare reply. He hadn’t been given permission to speak. To move. To do anything but be fucked and tortured in front of a room full of men he’d have to face tomorrow. Curtis would remind him for weeks of how pretty he looked with his ass getting pounded while everyone watched. And he didn’t care. He fucking loved every second, feeling Lawson’s sweat, hearing him groan as the man worked his way in and out of his hole.
Lawson crept his fingers upward, moved three into Matt’s mouth and worked them across his tongue and teeth, fucking him at both ends until Matt’s chin was wet and his eyes teared. The ring buzzed around his cock again and Matt jerked, spit flying.
Lawson released him this time. Withdrew and threw him onto the table where his back impacted with a rough thump. Yanking
Matt’s legs upward, Lawson slapped them both over his shoulders, his hands on Matt’s shins holding him down.
“Hands over your head. If you need something to hold onto so fucking bad, then I’ll help you.”
Complying, Matt felt wood brush his hands. A pool cue.
Leaning over the table’s opposite end, Reed held onto the wooden rod at its center while Matt grabbed either side. At a nod from Lawson, Reed pulled backward. Matt’s torso elongated, stretching his spine until his back bowed and his shoulders were the only thing touching the table. The ring began vibrating again as Lawson, biceps flexing, lifted Matt’s hips, and penetrated his already relaxed entrance.
Neck muscles standing out, Lawson threw his head back, his hips pistoning so the sound of their impacting flesh became a staccato drum beat. Each stroke sent Matt backward, his grip around the cue see-sawing with Lawson’s penetration and withdrawal.
Matt rolled his head side to side, his attention on how Lawson seemed to know how to nail his prostate with every thrust. Each time he got close to coming, the buzzing around his cock stopped, then restarted, until finally Matt fought too many sensations at once. The fire in his lungs, the raw constriction of Lawson’s hand at his throat, and the awareness of Reed holding that pool cue and rocking back and forth against the table with him on each stroke. The buzzing didn’t retreat on the next cycle, and Matt inhaled deep, vision splintering and toes curling, his legs shooting straight up as they lifted from Lawson’s shoulders.
Reaching down, Lawson pinched the head of Matt’s cock, and Matt shouted, hips lifting higher, back bowing, as his orgasm backed up only to rip through him with a force that had him screaming Lawson’s name and coming in endless waves.
Withdrawing from Matt’s body, Lawson shouted and added to the mess, marking his territory with ropes of come over Matt’s stomach and chest. Fell forward, and claimed Matt’s mouth in sloppy kisses, his chest sliding against Matt’s with their sweat and come. Matt let out a shaky laugh, breathing hard, and let go of the cue to wrap his arms around Lawson’s middle.
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