by R. J. Moray
“Remember, you brought this on yourself,” Nate said, glee rich in his voice.
The first impact of the belt made Ewan suck in a breath. He gritted his teeth, refusing to make any more noise. But Nate wasn’t going easy on him, and Ewan’s silence only seemed to spur him on. He started hard, a rough sort of warm up, and then got harder. And then—
“Are you sorry, Ewan?”
Ewan shook his head, eyes squeezed shut against the sting.
“Have it your way, then. One,” Nate said, and brought the belt down with a hard thwack.
Ewan yelped. He tried not to, but he couldn’t help it. Nate knew exactly where to hit him to make him squirm, how much he could take before he broke. He could only imagine how red his ass was already. And Nate was still warming him up, he knew it; this wasn’t the end of it by a long shot.
As if on cue, Nate said, “Two.” This time it snapped across his cheeks, right in the sweet spot. Ewan keened through his teeth, and before he could catch his breath— “Three,” Nate said and this one hurt, holy fuck.
“Nate!” Ewan gasped.
“What was that? Was it an apology?” Nate rubbed his fingers over Ewan’s welts, making him buck and hiss. “Didn’t sound like one. Four.”
He was relentless, but Ewan was stubborn. They got to twelve, and then all the way back up to five again before Ewan finally broke.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t,” he sobbed, “I can’t!”
“It’s a little late for that,” Nate said. “Six,” and he hit him again and Ewan burst into tears.
It wasn’t fair. He’d said sorry, hadn’t he? Wasn’t that enough?
“Please! Sir, please, I’m sorry! Please don’t!”
“And if I stop now? Have you learned your lesson?”
Ewan’s head was spinning. He could barely remember what started all of this. “Yeah, I have. I’ll not do it again.”
“What won’t you do again?”
Oh fuck. “I’ll not, not…”
Nate sighed, heavy, like he was disappointed. “Ewan,” he said firmly. “This is for your own good.”
It stung, six more, and Ewan sobbed through it, the blood roaring in his ears, but maybe Nate was kinder this time, quick about it but not so hard, because so suddenly it was over and Nate’s hands were roaming over Ewan’s arse, stroking his welts and pulling his thighs apart.
Nate’s hand was rough on Ewan’s balls, squeezing them hard, his thumb pressed dry and firm to Ewan’s asshole. “Tell me you’re sorry for causing a scene,” he said, his voice gone almost gentle.
“I’m s-sorry for making a scene,” Ewan sobbed, dragging in wet, heavy breaths.
“And for telling me to go to hell,” Nate went on, quiet but firm.
“I’m sorry for telling you to go to hell.”
“And for making me late today.”
Oh. Fuck, Ewan had forgotten about that. Nate had promised him a punishment for that, something he’d regret. This wasn’t it; Ewan was almost sure. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad at you, when I could just hurt you instead?”
Ewan gulped down a breath, and then Nate’s hand vanished, leaving him alone and cold on the desk. He shifted just a little, but Nate made a negative sound, and he stilled at once.
“Stay right there or we’ll have to start all over again.”
Fuck. Ewan stayed right there, blinking the tears out of his eyes. He was facing the French doors, the sunlight bright through the misty curtains that moved slightly in the breeze. The doors were open, then. Everyone outside had heard all of it, all his sobbing and begging. They’d hear whatever came next, too, and he shivered because he thought he knew what Nate was going to do.
There was a sound like a drawer opening and closing, the tink of something metal set down on the desk. And then Nate’s fingers, slick and greasy, running between his cheeks, finding his hole and pressing in.
Ewan moaned, turning his face against the wood. Nate wasn’t exactly gentle, but they both knew Ewan liked it better that way, liked the feel of him shoving his way in like he owned the place—which he did, didn’t he? He’d given Ewan a collar for play, for when Ewan felt subby, for when he wanted something to remind him of Nate, because he was Nate’s now, and Nate was his. Even if he wasn’t wearing the collar today, they both knew.
He canted his hips, pleading wordlessly, and Nate hummed in his throat, planted a hand in the middle of Ewan’s back to hold him still, and thrust in hard with two fingers.
“You’re a trial,” he said flatly. “You don’t listen, you bait me, and you think you can get away with everything.” He worked a third finger inside, not exactly nicely, but Ewan knew this wasn’t for him, this was for Nate, to let off steam. He’d given Nate this. He could have just said he was sorry and groveled for him, but no, he knew what Nate wanted. This was a choice. “Anyone else would have thrown you out months ago.”
Thrown him out like rubbish. Ewan whimpered, rocking against the desk. Nate knew exactly how he felt about that, knew the places Ewan’s heart was bruised and how to press on them to put Ewan exactly where he wanted him.
“You’re lucky I like your bratty side,” Nate sighed.
They both knew why Nate liked it. Nate wanted someone to punish, someone who had trouble staying in line, so he could wallop them for it. And Ewan was practically incapable of being anything but a trial.
Now Nate bent to bite Ewan hard on the arse, hard enough to make him yelp and try to squirm away. “God, you’re a little fucking shit, but you’re my little shit, now. Don’t forget that.”
Ewan opened his mouth, but whatever he’d been going to say was shunted from his brain by the shove and burn of Nate’s cock. It was so sudden it pushed the breath from his lungs, leaving him gasping and dizzy. Fuck! Nate was too big to just go shoving that thing in without warning, but when Ewan protested all he did was laugh and press down hard on Ewan’s shoulder, bending over him to murmur in his ear.
“You love it,” he said, the bristles of his beard rough on Ewan’s neck. “Beg me to fuck you.”
The frightening thing was how much Ewan did want it, just Nate bare inside him, nothing between them but their own skin. “Please fuck me,” he gasped. “Sir, Sir, Sir, I need you to, I need it, please!”
“All right,” Nate said, and he did.
He was rough, each thrust jamming Ewan against the edge of the desk until it dug painfully into his thighs, but that was right, that was perfect. He held Ewan down the whole time, firm and implacable, and he rode Ewan like a stallion, just pounding into him relentlessly. He’d used a lot of slick, mercifully, but still—Ewan keened in this awful high-pitched wail, his face burning at the knowledge of how audible this was. Everyone would know. And Nate was being a bastard, deliberately grazing Ewan’s prostate and giving him nothing but this deep frustrated ache.
He wasn’t going to…was he really going to…?
“Ffffffuck,” Nate groaned, pumping into him, and then he gripped Ewan’s hips hard enough to hurt, fucking into him with slow thrusts as he filled Ewan with come. And then he stopped, breathing hard, just sunk deep inside him and still.
“Nooooo,” Ewan wailed. That wasn’t fair, holy fuck. He wanted to come, he wanted it horribly. Hadn’t he been good?
No. He’d been awful, just awful, and now it was coming back to haunt him. All his shitty decisions. Nate was going to punish him by not letting him come and it wasn’t fair.
He burst into tears again, great big sobs, and he didn’t even care who heard him.
But Nate was pulling him up against his chest, arms gone around him gentle now, and he was murmuring, “Hey, hey. Baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. Just breathe.”
Ewan sniffed and tried to calm down, but he couldn’t. “Please,” he begged. “Please, let me come, Sir. Please.”
“You wanna come, baby boy? Now, on my cock?”
“Yes!”
“Are you sure?
” Nate ran a hand down Ewan’s chest, stroking his belly, skirting around his cock hanging full and useless at his crotch. “Wouldn’t you rather wait?”
“No!”
“Okay. I’m going to give you a choice. You can come now, or you can wait until we get home. But if I make you come now, then you don’t get to come again until next Sunday, okay?”
A week? But, ugh, like there was even a choice. “Now,” Ewan insisted, scrabbling at Nate’s forearms. “Please, just…I need to.”
“Sold,” Nate said, wrapping a hand around Ewan’s cock.
It was over embarrassingly quickly. Nate knew just where to touch him, and Ewan’s body responded by jerking back on Nate’s still-hard cock. Nate took him with shallow, perfect thrusts, just hammered him in the right spot until Ewan spilled over, shuddering as he covered Nate’s hand in come, his whole body going limp as cooked spaghetti.
He let Nate lay him on the desk top, pull out and roll him over, but he was surprised when Nate hooked Ewan’s knees over his shoulders and slid right back into him again with a dick not even half soft yet.
“Ah!”
“Don’t forget we made a deal,” Nate said, grinning at him like a lazy shark. He was so fucking handsome that Ewan wanted to bite him, the chuffed, just-laid look on his face unbearable. “No coming for a week. Understand?”
He wanted to argue but he couldn’t, not now, not with Nate inside him and his whole body gone slack with post-coital lassitude. He stretched his neck, aiming a kiss for Nate’s mouth and landing in the corner. “Yes, Sir,” he slurred.
Nate cocked his head, eyeing him with interest. “Oh, you’re all melty. You liked that.”
He had. He’d loved it. Every time Nate treated him like he had every right to do whatever he wanted, Ewan felt his resistance crumble to pieces. It was a frightening, anchorless feeling, like he was a kite with its strings cut and Nate was the wind. Icarus, blown too close to the sun. Whatever Nate wanted, until they crashed. That was everything.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and go home, okay?”
Nate smiled, sunshine-bright, and Ewan shivered, caught in the seductive lure of being the focus of his whole attention. This couldn’t last. Ewan told himself he didn’t care. For now? It was his.
Chapter 3
Nate tried not to take advantage of Ewan at work. Bad enough that he was Ewan’s boss; HR would have a collective heart attack if they caught him using that against Ewan in the office.
But Ewan made it hard to have restraint, the way he slunk into Nate’s office at ten a.m. in a crumpled suit a size too big for him, his face already creased into a scowl.
“You know, you’ll get stuck like that,” Nate said, enjoying the way it only made Ewan scowl harder and slam the door.
“Are you making Simon team lead for the skunkworks project?”
Not what he’d expected. “Why do you ask?”
“He’s bragging to everyone that he’s already got the job.” Ewan folded his arms, his chin thrust out with characteristic belligerence. “He said you were gonna let him pick his team and I’m not on it.”
“Do you want to be on the skunkworks team?” Nate asked, enjoying what he knew was about to happen.
“Fuck yeah, I do! And if you let Simon lead it, the whole thing’s gonna fall apart. He’s boring. He thinks in squares. Everyone he’s earmarked for his team are straight white men aged twenty-five to thirty. Bland as balls.”
Nate had to work to keep the grin off his face. “I see. Who would you suggest I get to run it?”
Clearly, Ewan hadn’t expected to be asked his opinion because he wavered. “I dunno. Bianca. Kwan. Anyone but Simon.”
“Good to know. Because I’ve already decided who’s going to head the skunkworks project.” He drew out the moment until Ewan’s scowl threatened to collapse his face. “Come on. Like you don’t know.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Ewan seemed uncertain. “You have to say it. Don’t mess with me!”
“But it’s so much fun messing with you,” Nate sighed. He held out a hand. “Come here.”
Ewan went, obedient but sulky about it. Nate caught him by the waist and reeled him in, pinning him against the edge of the desk. Ewan stiffened but didn’t fight. Nate pinched him on the ass. Ewan bared his teeth.
“You’re right about Simon,” Nate said, low and private. “And you’re right about the project. I need a twisted mind in the lead for that one. And you have the twistiest mind I know.”
Ewan lowered his gaze, his breath gone shallow. Arousal, Nate figured. Maybe embarrassment. Probably both. “People are gonna talk,” Ewan said sulkily.
“Yeah, they are. What do you think they’re going to say?”
“That you gave me the lead because I gave you head.”
Nate grinned, palming Ewan’s cock through his pants. “Really? Am I that cheap?”
“Maybe I’m just that good at sucking dick,” Ewan shot back. Nate squeezed him harder than was polite, and he squirmed. “The door.”
It wasn’t locked. Still. “What does it matter? They’re going to talk anyway.” Nate stroked him, feeling his cock stiffen. “We should give them something to talk about.”
Ewan whined in his throat, but he didn’t tell Nate to stop. Instead, he curled his hands around the edge of the desk, leaning back against it. His hips hitched up, rubbing himself into Nate’s palm, and when Nate looked, his cheeks were flushed.
“Yeah? You wanna kneel down for me and let me stick my dick in your mouth?”
Ewan shuddered. “Do I have a choice?”
“You can always say no. That’s an option.”
But Ewan didn’t say no. He let Nate handle him, let Nate rub him, let Nate grip his ass and push his fingers in firmly between his cheeks. He looked terrified of being caught, and his terror made Nate want it more.
“Worried someone will see?”
“Nate,” Ewan moaned. His shoulders hunched around his ears. “You can’t.”
“What did you call me?” Nate demanded, misunderstanding on purpose and enjoying the rush of fondling Ewan when he was so obviously reluctant.
“No, you can’t,” Ewan insisted.
“Then say no.”
Ewan’s eyes met his. God, he was aroused, reluctantly so, his pupils big dark disks with pale gray borders. And he didn’t say no, he just begged Nate silently not to do this to him now.
“Stay late tonight,” Nate said. “Come back at six. We can lock the door and you can show me just how grateful you are for the opportunity to lead a team.”
Ewan shuddered, swallowing hard. “All right,” he said. “I’ll show you.”
“Good boy.” Nate patted him on the ass. “Go on, get back to work. Don’t tell anyone about the lead position. I might change my mind, and I wouldn’t want you to be humiliated in front of the team, like Simon is gonna be.”
Ewan shook himself, pushing off from the desk. “You’re the worst,” Ewan muttered, adjusting himself in his pants. At least his baggy suit hid his erection. Nate imagined sending him back to his desk with an ass full of come, and grinned. Another time.
“Don’t forget,” Nate said. “Six p.m.”
Ewan’s scowl was a beautiful thing. “Yes, Sir,” he said, and then he let himself out.
⁂
The anticipation for what was to come sustained Nate through a tedious day of conference calls he didn’t want to be in. But Jack insisted that Nate provided a sense of security to their clients that they needed, as if Jack didn’t understand the software systems they sold as well as Nate did. Well, okay. Honestly, Jack didn’t, but he understood enough. Nate’s word shouldn’t matter in the slightest, but apparently this was how it went these days.
He tried to seem engaged, to provide reassurance and technical explanations, and promised himself he was going to enjoy himself with Ewan after work, a nice little treat as a reward for all the tedium.
Doing something like that at work was risky, but he knew for a
fact that Jack had fucked Channon in his office during a tech demo. Nate didn’t have Jack’s exhibitionist streak, but he did have a healthy imbalance-of-power kink, and while he knew that the power he held over Ewan made what they were doing very, very dodgy, he also knew that Ewan was a big boy who could take care of himself.
Ewan was the first sub he’d ever had who told him to fuck off, right to his face. Who had bitten him once, because he hadn’t liked his spanking. Nate shivered deliciously just thinking of it. He wanted that, wanted more than anything for Ewan to defy him, so he could pin Ewan down and take control back from him in a way that…really, he shouldn’t.
No, that wasn’t true. More than anything, he wanted Ewan to trust him. He wanted to earn that trust and keep it safe, and then do to Ewan all the terrible things he wanted. Make him cry. Bruise him in all the ways Ewan liked. Punish him for his mistakes. And, at the same time, help him learn to take care of himself in the ways that he didn’t.
Tonight, though, he’d settle for a blow job and a little humiliation.
Of course, at a quarter to six, Jack knocked on Nate’s office door. “Not working late tonight, I hope,” he said, smiling his million-dollar smile. It was ridiculous. Jack had been the world’s worst workaholic until he’d brought Channon home with him. Now he seemed to think he had any right to criticize Nate’s choices, as if he’d learned some amazing truth about work-life balance.
“I can’t help but notice you’re still here yourself,” Nate drawled. If they were playing this game, Nate wasn’t about to let Jack win.
Jack smiled, coming in uninvited to prop himself on Nate’s desk. “I’m heading out soon. Date night,” he added, looking thoroughly smug.
“And how is your pretty princess?” Nate asked, though he knew the answer. Channon had moved from Help Desk to the regular dev team. Technically, Nate was his boss, but removed by several layers of authority. He’d seen Channon today, and he’d looked well, a definite improvement over last week when he’d seemed squirrelly about something. Nate hadn’t asked and Channon hadn’t told. They didn’t exactly have the kind of relationship where it was any of Nate’s business.