Seeing Red

by Lyra Evans

  The warring thoughts and fears in his head amplified with the intensity of his wanting and the closeness of Preston’s body. Niko shut his eyes, fighting to regain control of himself, of what was happening, but it was taken out of his hands.

  The wall behind Niko suddenly vanished, and he jumped to realize it was actually the cabin’s front door. Cobalt stood behind him, in the entrance, wearing only pants and a very stern expression on his face.

  His crystal eyes travelled from Niko to Preston and back, taking stock of everything in an instant. This time when Cobalt looked at him, his eyes seemed to pierce straight through the glamour to the core of Niko’s being. He was still wearing the cuffs and collar, but it didn’t seem to matter. Cobalt’s smouldering gaze slayed him.

  “I have been waiting,” was all he said, his voice low and even. Niko had heard that tone before, and he knew the danger that belied its calm. He stared Niko down, glancing pointedly at the bulge in Niko’s jeans for only a moment. “Get inside. Take off the cuffs and collar.”

  Whatever part of Niko wanted to rebel, to fight the command, was easily overwhelmed with every other part of him. He let the order wash over him, shivering as it did, and he moved into the cabin to do as he was told. As he passed Cobalt, the sea breeze scent, full of freedom and promise and possibility, filled his lungs again and soothed his frayed nerves. The uncertainty that plagued him all day seemed to ease away, as though it was never really that serious at all.

  “Buzzkill,” Preston said to Cobalt. Niko glanced back as he pulled off the cuffs. Cobalt was not impressed, his expression stony.

  “Go to your loft,” Cobalt instructed him, his words edged with iron and a will of something much harder.

  Preston’s eyebrows shot up, his smile widening. “Maybe I see it now,” he said, biting his lower lip. “What Niko sees in you. That was rather hot.”

  Cobalt took a step closer to him, a move pulsing with threat and danger. He embodied dominance in his every atom, but he didn’t employ it at all times. When Cobalt did want to use it, he knew precisely how to weaponize every word and motion. Preston’s lips parted slightly as he followed Cobalt’s approach, keeping eye contact.

  “You test me, Wolf,” Cobalt said. “Do not think it will end well for you.” Preston licked his lips. Niko was frozen, caught in the sight of them. “Get out of my sight.”

  A visible shudder ran down the Werewolf’s frame, and he moved aside, climbing the ladder to his loft without further instruction. Niko watched him go for a moment, briefly forgetting he had instructions of his own. Snapping back to himself, he quickly pulled off the other cuff and the collar, setting them down on a shelf to one side. The glamour wore off him with a light tingle, and Niko started to feel like himself a little more.

  When he turned, he found Cobalt standing over him, inches away. Enveloped in the Selkie’s intoxicating scent and warmth, pinned by his gaze, Niko lost track of everything he was ever worried about. Nothing existed outside of Cobalt in that moment.

  “You’re okay,” Niko said. His voice sounded distant to his own ears. Cobalt’s arms were bare, his forearms barely darker than the rest of his skin. When he moved, there wasn’t the barest hint of unsteadiness. He was as a strong and stable as the first day Niko met him. Goosebumps rose along Niko’s skin.

  “I told you I would recover quickly,” Cobalt said. He didn’t touch Niko at all, but Niko still felt captured by him. “Did you doubt me?”

  The question pushed, burrowing under Niko’s skin. It was pointed, undercut with a subtle threat, and it excited Niko as well as plucked at his guilt. “No,” he breathed, though he supposed perhaps he had doubted Cobalt. Not because he didn’t believe Cobalt could heal quickly, but because he worried Cobalt was underplaying the severity of his injuries.

  Cobalt caught it, of course. The slap across Niko’s face hit before Niko’s eyes could even register movement. It seared through his cheek and jaw; the persistent erection stole his endurance from him, and he moaned softly.

  “What is my rule?” Cobalt asked.

  Niko exhaled. “No lies.” He paused, breathing hard. It was cold in the cabin, but all it did was serve to stave off exhaustion in Niko’s body. “I was worried,” he admitted.

  This time when Cobalt moved, it was slow and gentle. He lifted a hand and smoothed a lock of hair out of Niko’s face. The fire in his grey-blue eyes softened briefly, but when Niko’s lips parted at the sensation, Cobalt’s sharpness returned.

  “You allowed him to kiss you,” he said. It was not a question. Searching Cobalt’s eyes, Niko wondered how he could know that. Had Preston left some kind of evidence on his mouth? Did he smell of the Werewolf somehow? Was Cobalt able to divine the difference so easily?

  Whatever the reason, Niko knew better than to lie about that. He might have tried, months ago, or with a different partner. But staring into Cobalt’s eyes, his body close enough to touch but frustratingly refusing to do so, Niko knew the only way forward for both of them was the truth. Not just in this.

  “Yes,” he said, but it came out like a breath.

  Jaw tightening visibly, Cobalt breathed out through his nose a moment. His fingers tucked under Niko’s chin, he tilted Niko’s head up and leaned in to kiss him. Niko melted into it instantly, allowing his mouth open to take Cobalt in, to let the Selkie plunder him, taste him, do with him as he wished. Cobalt’s hand wrapped around Niko’s throat, pressing just enough to be insistent, his thumb still angling Niko’s jaw upward. He kissed Niko deeply, pouring out into him, and Niko disappeared into it.

  Heart soaring, chest pounding, Niko thought he might collapse. He’d never quite gone weak in the knees for anyone before, but he did for Cobalt. No one kissed like him. Not ever.

  “Like that?” Cobalt asked, breaking the kiss and speaking against his lips.

  Niko swallowed. “No,” he said. “Not like you.”

  For a moment, they breathed the same air and occupied the same space. His answer seemed to satisfy Cobalt, though, and the Selkie stepped back. All harsh lines and defined stature, Cobalt looked him up and down. Niko swayed slightly toward him, fighting to keep himself straight.

  “Take off his clothes,” Cobalt said, and Niko hadn’t thought of it that way. Everything about what he was wearing was Preston. The Werewolf owned every item, every piece. Maybe he did smell of Preston. Enough even for a non-Werewolf to tell.

  Niko’s hands flew to the buttons of his shirt, pulling them out as quickly as he could without tearing them. He tossed the shirt aside without looking away from Cobalt and began on the pants. Something in him refused to turn away, to avert his eyes even a moment. He didn’t even look down at himself as he moved, doffing the clothing items one by one without thinking.

  Cobalt’s eyes held his gaze for the whole process, as though they were engaged in a silent conversation, a silent agreement to one another. But when Niko tossed the jockstrap aside, leaving himself completely naked, Cobalt’s eyes released his gaze. The Selkie looked him up and down, and Niko knew something was wrong when he saw Cobalt’s lips part, just slightly. Something like concern flickered in his eyes.

  He closed the distance between them again, hand reaching out this time to touch Niko. But he stopped before his fingers brushed Niko’s skin. “He did this to you,” he said. Again, it wasn’t a question, but it left more room for response than the last statement had. Confused, Niko looked down at himself and saw what made Cobalt stop.

  Deep black-blue bruises marked his skin in every place the Sluagh Staff had made contact. Across his stomach and chest was a strange, abstract pattern where Preston had dragged the Staff along his skin. In the very centre of his chest and torso was a perfect circle of blue-black with spiralling tails emerging around it. Blue and yellow lines like the lightning forks webbed across his chest from his armpit. Niko raised his arm to check for the navy blue bruise he already knew would be there. There was likely also a perfect blue circle on his back.

  “I didn’t know it would
leave any marks,” Niko admitted, though perhaps he should have known. Most implements of sadism were designed not to leave permanent marks. If that was what you were after, there were specialized tools for that. But the Sluagh Staff wasn’t a sex toy. It wasn’t for fun; it was a torture device. There was no reason to assume it wouldn’t bruise.

  “Are they permanent?” Cobalt asked, but the words cut through the air in a way that told Niko they were not directed at him. Niko looked up behind Cobalt to find Preston perched at the edge of his loft.

  “I can’t honestly say,” he admitted. “But I would guess not.”

  Cobalt didn’t turn, his eyes instead trailing along Niko’s body, from bruise to bruise, then to his face. He brushed his fingers over Niko’s jaw, smoothing his thumb over Niko’s lips, and Niko’s tongue moved to catch it entirely without him deciding. Cobalt let him lick his thumb, allowed Niko to draw it into his mouth to suck on the end. Niko’s eyelids dropped slightly, his eyes hooded and beckoning. Cobalt licked his lips.

  “And what he did left you in this state?” Cobalt asked, quiet and calm, but Niko felt a frisson of anticipation. Something in Cobalt was flaring.

  “Yes,” Niko answered, unable to deny it even had he wanted to. The Sluagh Staff was more brutal than anything else he’d ever endured—even Sade’s more depraved torture—but its secondary effects were undeniable. Niko was hard and wanton and getting desperate. Cobalt might have been able to give him any order—any—at that point, and Niko would have obeyed. Song or not.

  Cobalt nodded slowly. His fingers left Niko’s face, tracing down toward the bruises. He spent some time drawing light lines over them, then his fingers moved to the scars that littered Niko’s body. The ones Sade had caused. And finally, Cobalt’s fingertip circled the bullet scar on Niko’s chest. His expression closed then, shifting to something loftier, more determined than before, and Niko realized he had no idea what to expect now.

  “You’ve been marked too many times by others,” he said, and Niko flinched inwardly. Too many times? It felt like a rejection at first, one Niko wanted to pull back from. But then Cobalt added, “It’s time you bear a mark I give you. Something to remind you who your Master is. Always.”

  Niko shivered, his heart racing. Light bubbled in him, his eyes flickering briefly to Cobalt’s Soul Stone. The hollow in his chest throbbed and ached and called out to be filled, and Niko thought for a moment Cobalt had heard it. But when the Selkie held out his hand, he held three items in his palm. One was a sewing needle, perhaps slightly larger than the average needle. The other two were identical steel hoops with a single ball on each. The ball was a striking cobalt blue.

  Confused, Niko met Cobalt’s eyes again. “Earrings?” Niko asked, thinking it over. He had no desire to say no, but he wasn’t entirely sure earrings like these would be appropriate for a detective. Though that was assuming he ever got to go back to his job.

  But Cobalt shook his head. “Not your ears.”

  Niko’s mind immediately began flipping between all the other options on his body. Nose? Lip? Eyebrows? But none of those made much sense given the shape of the rings and the fact that there were two of them. After a moment, his brain finally supplied the likely location Cobalt intended.

  His chest rose and fell quickly, heavily, and he was suddenly very aware of his nipples. But as he searched Cobalt’s eyes, he found he had no real reason to refuse. He didn’t really want to refuse.

  “With that needle?” Niko asked, because that was his main reservation. It was small and likely not sterile. Cobalt picked it up between two fingers and held it out to Niko.

  “You will trade for an appropriate one,” he said. There was no outward question, but Niko could tell this was his opportunity to refuse. If he used his safe word, simply whispered red, Cobalt would put the needle and rings away without question. He knew that. “How large you make it will translate directly to how easily the rings fit into place.”

  Niko took the needle. Excitement and fear and all forms of anticipation coursed through him. His cock bobbed as though stimulated, and he felt himself breathing hard. Placing the sewing needle in one palm, he pressed his other hand over it, feeling out the makeup of the needle and searching for the right trades to make. It was steel but not surgical steel, and it was also much too small. Niko remembered Starla talking about her research into nipple piercings. While some people used magic, the easiest and most reliable way was to use a fourteen-gauge needle. At least, that was what he thought she’d said.

  Taking a deep breath, Niko traded the quality of steel away for better, which was easy. But stretching a small needle into a much larger one and keeping its integrity was somewhat harder. Opening his eyes, he searched for something to help. The closest items were the cuffs and collar Preston had given him to wear. Taking one of the cuffs, Niko stole some of the steel from one of the rings on it and traded it to the needle. Vaguely aware of a disgruntled huffing sound coming from the direction of the loft, Niko focused on drawing out the necessary size and length in the needle.

  When he opened his eyes and revealed his palm, a large, steel needle sat in his palm, extending the full length of his hand from the tip of his middle finger to the heel of his palm. He held it up to Cobalt, his chest still heaving. The trade had taken a bit out of him, given how worn he already was, but the excitement and anticipation buoyed him up.

  Cobalt took the needle from him, studying it closely. A small smile quirked his beautiful mouth, and Niko felt pleasure bubbling in his chest.

  “Very good, Pet,” Cobalt said. “Go stand by the shelf. I will not bind you in place, but if you move, you face both punishment and a botched piercing.” Niko backed up to the bookshelf Cobalt had earlier emptied of Preston’s belongings. He pressed his back up to it, the lower shelves digging into his thigh and ass, the higher one cutting across his back. He reached up and gripped the top-most shelf behind him tightly, using it as support and bracing. Cobalt followed him, standing barely inches from him.

  Niko breathed in Cobalt’s ocean smell, and it calmed him slightly. But being that close also meant Niko’s erect cock brushed against Cobalt’s body, and the friction was both wonderful and torturous. Cobalt leaned in and pressed a long, wet kiss to his mouth, sliding tongue against tongue, and drawing Niko’s body open as he did. When he pulled back, he reached up and caught Niko’s left nipple between his fingers, rolling it smoothly until it formed a bud.

  Tingling from the sensation, Niko worked not to arch into the pinching. His breath hitched, his eyes half-lidded as he watched Cobalt. He had never been given much prep time for this kind of thing. Sade liked to hurt him without warning as much as possible, to stop Niko bracing. Preston certainly hadn’t given Niko much breathing room to anticipate the pain he caused. But Cobalt was taking it so slow and languorous, Niko thought it was almost more torturous this way. The build-up had him strung up and tense, tight as a wire on a bridge, and never quite certain when the pain would actually begin. The dark twinkle in Cobalt’s silver eyes told Niko this was intentional. He knew how he made Niko feel, and he relished it.

  Slowly, the fingers rolling the bud of his nipple began to press harder and harder. It became more of a pinching, a pressure closer to pain, and Cobalt began to pull on the nipple, dragging it outward. Sparks arced through Niko’s chest, a mix of pain and pleasure, and his cock dripped. He was on the edge, close to begging for Cobalt to do it because he couldn’t bear the anticipation, when Cobalt pressed firmly, pulled him into position, and brought the needle across and through his skin.

  The sharp, stinging pain flashed through him like a summer storm, powerful and all-encompassing but brief. He cried out a sound halfway to a moan, throwing his head back. Skull thudding against the shelf, Niko shut his eyes and panted through the flare of heat in his nipple. Cobalt pressed a kiss to his exposed neck.

  “Look at you writhe,” Cobalt breathed, running his thumb along the skin just beneath the piercing, behind the needle that still remained in Nik
o’s nipple. Niko arched and moaned. “But I won’t release you yet, Pet.”

  Within moments, Cobalt had transferred the ring into place, taking the needle out in a fluid motion. Niko was lost to sensation, everything intensified and overwhelming. The ring clipped into place, the little ball drawing it down to hang beneath the bud of skin, but Niko couldn’t make himself look at it yet. He urged himself to calm down, to control his breathing, worrying the second piercing could send him over the edge of pleasure. He wasn’t ready to come yet. He wanted Cobalt inside him first, wanted the payoff of this treatment.

  “Please,” Niko exhaled, barely making enough sound to be heard. Cobalt played with his right nipple now, taking his time as before, and Niko decided the drawn-out process was much harder to withstand. His fingers pressed so hard to the surface of the shelf behind him they went white. He could taste his hunger and feel the shifting heat on the air whenever Cobalt moved.

  “Tell me what you want,” Cobalt instructed, and Niko looked into his lover’s eyes. The grey was nearly eclipsed by the black of his pupils, and in the depths of them, Niko saw a possessive, commanding, ravenous wanting. For him.

  “Mark me,” Niko said, though it was more than that. Cobalt cut his toying short at Niko’s request, pinching and tugging the nipple into position and pressing the tip of the needle to the skin. This time, though, he pushed through more slowly, allowing Niko to feel the intensity of the sting, the penetration, the claiming. And that was what Cobalt was doing, Niko realized. He was claiming Niko in a way that would never go away. Not fully.

  Heat and lightness and excitement and too many things to name rose and collided inside Niko’s body and his soul. He felt raw and bare and vulnerable, but also owned and collected. And something else he couldn’t put a word to. Not yet.