Breakdown (35 page)

The threat, it was as good as a promise, maybe better.

The long length of the razor edge pressed against my scrotum, forcing the right ball to contract against the blade. There was no coldness to its touch anymore, the razor matching body heat, feeding from it, chasing the sac into hiding more through remembered release.

“Fuck.” Slice... so easy just to let it slice now, lick at the skin with the blade, nick, cut, cry... fuck, cut and cry... please.

It didn’t come, my hands as inexperienced as Jeff’s, and I bit back a cry as the blade suddenly cried out and kissed my inner thigh instead. Then the vibrator was moving in my ass as I rode the high, fed the fire fucking over my body from the detoured cut.

Nothing lasted, not the high, the switch flicked too quickly into missing experienced hands, and a frustrated growl hit the quiet, mine. Giving a grunt I looked down, now scratching the razor along my cock, up the full engorged length, nearly crying out when steel brushed my tip.

Pushing my cock down, the blade swirled around and around the head, fucking with my vision as the dangerous play was made easier by the pre-come spilling onto the metal. I wanted to dig deep, ease the blade into my head, feel the pressure of it stretching me out inside, feel that intensity of having it done, but knowing I’d fuck myself up in bad ways if it did.

“Bastard,” I cried, hating Cutter for not being here to bleed out all the heat, wanting to slice it across his throat for still being able play whore with my body even though he was behind bars. He’d watched me across the courtroom, and that smirk had been there touching his lips. Maybe a “see you soon”, in the depths of deprivation, if not in prison, then here—now. And laughing, he was here now, laughing, watching at the foot of the bed—chuckling at the frustration playing on the bed.

“Cunt—” Giving a cry, I curled to my side.

Two years. After two years I still couldn’t bury the need to be bled during fucking. And—“Fucking cunt.” Thumping into the bed, not stopping until it started to hurt, I buried my head in my pillow, jacking off so hard now it hurt. Tears dampened the pillows, mostly angry, mostly in disgust knowing the bastard had raped a girl, then touched me, mostly just needing something—needing fucking, needing control, needing to—

“Stop.”

I stilled against the covers.

A chair creaked in the darkness of the room, the one over by Gray’s office desk where he worked sometimes.

Gray.

Fuck. How long had he been here? How long had he been watching? What had he sat there watching?

Soft footfalls came closer to the bed.

“On your back. Now.”

A strong grip at my arm more than encouraged my back to meet the silk sheets. As I did, Gray, down to just suit trousers, eased over and straddled my thighs. Hard, he was so hard. Within itself that was nothing new, I’d felt him hard often enough; enough to know his interest lay in men, but now the guilt was there with me being hard and on display.

I tried to sit up, shift, just get out from underneath him, maybe even knock the fuck out of Gray if he didn’t let me, because I sure as hell couldn’t stand the heat hitting my face now.

“No.” A hand on my chest had me easing down. “Besides being stolen and mine, this,” Gray took the razorblade off the sheets and held it up, “it doesn’t control your heat.”

Groaning, again I tried to get up, but a hand found my jaw, the grip hard and rough enough to make sure I eased back down so bloody slowly.

“Cutter,” said Gray, his hand tracing down my throat, over my abs, leaving me breathing heavy as it rested just below my navel. “He doesn’t control your heat.” The razor blade was laid to rest between my navel and cock, the blade flat on my stomach and almost close enough to threaten my tip. I frowned.

“Gray.” The way he fucking looked at me. “I’m just... Let me up, plea—”

“Control.” Gray found my hands, taking them above my head, crisscrossing them and then holding them down gently with one hand. “All control.” His body was close enough to press the blade down as his gaze levelled inches from mine. He ran his free touch down my side, gently gripping into the skin, pulling me up into him. “No matter your kink,” he whispered quietly as I fought the need arch up into him for first contact, “control is yours, even when you lend it to someone else for a few hours.”

Bollocks. I even snarled that. I had no fucking control. He’d seen that.

Gaze softening a touch, a gentle tap of finger went to where my hands crossed above my head. Easing back slightly, Gary kept that gentle finger in place. I’d barely noticed, but he’d shifted his weight, the movement sleek and effortless now as he knelt between my legs.

There was that deep groan, mostly mine that wanted to pull my legs up, cover everything on display and that, that... shyness was something fucking new.

“The fine art of submission, Jack,” said Gray, softly, “it’s not defined by the weight of the chains that hold you down or the control of the man above you.” On the inside of my thighs, that same single finger was drawn to a fine point, asking for stillness as he knelt there. The touch of fingers turned to the back of his hands, and they traced lightly upwards, edging slowly to the fine hairs between my legs. Fuck. Screwing my eyes shut, I hid in my arm, fucking shivering like I’d been out in the rain and jolting slightly as a gentle brush through the curls, his touch so close to the base of my cock, my dick danced as I hid.

“The real beauty behind submission,” said Gray, quietly, “is defined by how a man submits with no chains present, no physical restraint, just a pure will to allow someone else to control the moment, here and on full and stunning display.”

Quiet.

“You’re no different to any other young man, Jack. Amongst all the chaos, there’s the general misconception that submission is acceptable only if they are forced into submission. When you switch, when you try your hand at Domination, have you ever taken anyone by force?”

I frowned, seriously, then shook my head.

“Did you think any less of those subs?”

I shook my head again.

“Take those chains away, would they have still stayed beneath you?” That stroke came gently at my side, then—

“Take away all of those chains, would you still stay here beneath me, Jack?”

Fuck. Yes.

Then a tear came as my grip found the bedstead above, tension played out in a single hold that grabbed on for life. Gray wasn’t Cutter, he wasn’t Mase, he wasn’t Jeff, he wasn’t the thirty or so other men and late teens I’d rough-fucked since I was fifteen. He held the knowledge of everything I’d done, that I lacked. All that I feared, that drove me to my knees in the heat of sex and left me naked and bruised at his feet. That knowledge was there in the touch of his fingertips, on the promise of the brush of lips against his.

In the arms of this demon, he hurt, left the body broken and bleeding back in the alley, and part of me would always be back there, caught in the threat of his heat. But in the darkness of his room, he offered a different heat. The demon changed shape, shifted, that possession now holding the world at bay, instead of pinning me down and keeping me away from damaging the world.

I was his; he was mine, even if only in the realms of his room.

No. It wasn’t the promise of any chain that kept me here, or the need to bleed; just the wait for this man’s shift of head in my direction, because when he did, when he asked, submission came so... fucking... easily...

“Look at me, Jack.”

I couldn’t. The knife would want to twist one last time, and I’d screw it up. I’d say something, find a way to screw with his head, and through it all just show him how much experience I lacked when it came to learning how to keep something I’d kill for to lie next to night after night. Control still wasn’t mine.

Gray eased down on me, the knife caught between us, and a stroke came at the trail of a tear.

“Scared, Jack?”

I nodded, just the once, then eased my cheek against his. “Just...” I whispered quickly, “Just scared of falling, of not being good enough for you.”

The briefest kiss brushed my lips and I was still with it after the gentleness was gone, left there chasing it as I licked at my lips, making sure he’d been there—nervous with how he’d been there.

“None of us are stain-free. We all have our faults and flaws, stunner.” He sounded so sad here. Then Gray’s touch traced down my side, to the inside of my thigh as he shifted his body slightly. Christ, he was hard, his clothed groin against the nakedness of my thigh now. The vibrator was gone, and he slid a touch down over my taint, all to gently ease a finger in.

“Christ.”

A kiss came at my jaw. “Language.” There was a small smile there, followed by a bite at my throat. “Fucking use it for me, Jack.”

“Fuck.”

He eased up, again kneeling between my legs, his gaze on my body. Then his fingering came between my legs. Just one touch at first, then a second that had my heels digging in, ass coming off the bed as I cried out. Hands stayed crossed above my head, legs open, his touch finding my prostate every time and doing this blinding dance across it that had me writhing and calling out his name. “Fuck, just... fuck.”

When he pulled his touch free, I tensed, thinking he was going for a rougher penetration with three fingers, but the slim vibrator replaced his playing. The deep hum seeped from my ass upwards as he kept it still and deep, and I doubled slightly, feeling the hitching up of my balls. Control. I had no fucking control, not seeing him there kneeling between my thighs, just suit trousers, shirtless—playing my body.

“Stop,” I breathed. “Fuck’s sake stop.”

He did, and it took me a moment to notice the razorblade was gone. I hadn’t even noticed. Gray gently eased the vibrator out, his gaze watchful of mine.

“Can...” I licked across my lips, tasting the perspiration that dampened them. “Please, will you let me touch you?”

Gray stroked the back of his hand over my cock, just once.

“I need...” Fuck. Eyes closed, neck muscles stretched, I eased my head back as he stroked my skin. “I need to feel you, Gray. Stop fucking ghosting through my life. Let me touch.”

A kiss came at my inner thigh, making me groan, then he fell quiet.

“Up,” he said eventually.

After easing onto my ass, I knelt in front of him. We’d taken this stance many a time in training, during taking my dan, kneeling, facing each other, and it didn’t seem to matter how close he was, there was always that distance. I’d mapped his home of night, just feeling my way around, tracing the familiar, but never with him. I needed to map him too. To trace every toned muscle and become familiar.

A touch to his thigh came first, just to see if he would ask me not to, but it didn’t come. The cut of his trousers came next, all to rest at his hip, feel the slender, yet toned firmness to what hid beneath. My cock had brushed against here many a night, but it had always been without him watching, just allowing me to touch. Now I needed to be seen, to stop hiding in the darkness.

Both hands came into play, just tracing either side of his hips, a constant flick up to his gaze making sure it was still okay. I was shaking like fuck, and I needed to know it was still okay to touch, that he wouldn’t bite back and force me back into the shadows. His gaze was twisted away from mine, just slightly, eyes closed, a slight frown to his brow, and I moved in, just gently nudging at his jaw with my nose. Part of me wanted to crawl inside, get as close as possible, curl up, get his scent over me and keep it there.

His legs were open, mine between his, and I rose up against him, flattening my body against his and feeling my cock brush his chest. His hands came into play, tracing my back, gently stroking, just before a nip came at my jaw.

A soft chuckle was given. “A little impatient, pup?” he said, and I looked down on him tracing over his face, mapping his lips, the crease to his eyes as he’d chuckled.

“Just need to see you,” I mumbled quietly. I followed every fine curve of his neck, each run of muscle and vein of his abs, to rest my hand against his cock.

Giving a frown, I rested my head against Gray’s.

“I’ve not taken anyone in two years.”

“I know,” he said quietly, now stroking at my ass.

“I’m only used to rough fucking.”

“I know.” A kiss came at my throat as his gentle nudge demanded that I allow him access.

“And you’re fucking big and beat me hands down when it comes to roughness, Gray.”

Another chuckle vibrated into my throat. “Love your pillow talk, Jack.”

Finding his gaze again, resting a hand on his jaw, I let out a shaky sigh as I kissed his lips.

“It’s going to hurt.”

Gray watched as I pulled away. “Only ever if you ask me to, stunner. Trust.” He traced a touch down to my cock and took a gentle hold. “I need to see that you can trust me, Jack. Please.”

Again that sadness, then a long, slow stroke came that had me dipping my head into the curve of Gray’s throat and snaking my arms around his neck. “Christ.” He played so tenderly. Away from knowing how much he could hurt, Gray played so fucking tenderly.

Easing back down to the bed, shoulders now touching the sheets, feet still tucked beneath me, but with legs now open, I traced my hand to where Gray still touched, running my hand up and down my cock with his hand underneath mine. Slow. Gentle. I needed it slow and gentle. Gray came in close, now kneeling between my thighs again, my ass now off the bed as he lifted me onto his lap, encouraging me to unfold my legs.

By the time he’d freed himself and was fully sheathed, his thickness and length put mine to shame. I let out an unsteady breath, finally seeing him rub his cock against mine. Had to be the goddamn sexiest thing alive, him playing himself against me, this wicked hold that stroked at both mine and his.

Nerves took over. Yeah. It would fucking hurt.

“Easy.” A kiss brushed my abs.

“Fuck.” I reared up into his, my ass pressing hard against his lap as I dug shoulder blades into the bed. His breath brought everything to fucking life. And the need was there to run with it, to bite, to mark, to claim, to fuck—to let anyone within a fucking continent know that he was mine and I’d fucking floor the fuck for getting close.