After he left, Henderson looked at me, obviously impressed I managed to negotiate. “Heading to Rev’s shop?”
“Need some ink done on Chase,” I replied.
Without an audience to perform for, Chase finally looked up at me, conflicting emotions swarming across his blue eyes. Uncertainty, fear, and excitement all rolled into one.
“We’ve talked about this, remember? About time we erase Marco’s fucking name from your skin,” I reminded him.
He nodded hesitantly, looking like he wanted to say a few things, but he bit his lower lip instead after a quick look at Henderson. Not alone yet. Seeing the passion returning to his blue eyes made me warm. Made me fucking proud. Those searching hypnotic eyes, badly wanting to trust, to see where I led him, held me in thrall.
No need for further training. Chase was perfect the way he was, not a broken fragmented sub like Cel. Chase was all fire in private when we were alone and all ice when I needed him to be in public.
I cupped his chin, caught his lips with mine.
Chase sat up, leaning into my deepening kiss. His fucking sweetness exploded into my mouth. I gripped his hair. The way his lean body rubbed against my legs drove me insane and woke the cock in my trousers. I parted from Chase. He breathed hard, gaze sliding to the bulge in my jeans.
I chuckled. “Maybe later, pup. We’re late for our appointment.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to your ritual,” Henderson said.
Had it been my imagination, or was there something odd in his voice? It didn’t matter. Not now anyway. Outside the warehouse, Henderson gripped my shoulder before I got in my car. I followed his gaze to Cel, who stood silently as a shadow beside Chase.
Chase looked incredibly young at that moment while he chatted casually with Cel. Did I imagine it, or did Chase manage to get Grayson’s apprentice killer to actually smile?
They both looked young. Like two college kids chatting. The world Chase couldn’t return to, and even if he did, he was no longer the same young man. Could never be the same man.
A strange pang hit me then. Made me remember the first time Marco introduced Chase in one of the college parties the Brotherhood hosted. I could still remember the cocky smile he wore, the sound of his carefree laugh.
Whores and rent boys like that are all the same, men like Marco would’ve said. They’re asking for it. Maybe they simply didn’t know better, but exploitation hardly ever mattered. Business was business, right?
If I really believed that, I would not be here second-guessing myself, would I, a voice inside me asked. Same voice that spoke up when doubt wheedled into me the first time I finally took Chase.
Why had I been so hell-bent on making Chase mine? Deep down, had I always known the ugly truth? That I alone wanted to posses the ability to abuse Chase and rightfully call it love because that was the only way a man like me knew how to love? I’d slackened. Allowed Chase liberties I never allowed my past submissives.
Hell, I even took Chase from a dangerous and ambitious man, knowing full well a single hasty action could lead to terrible consequences. To undoing all the hard-earned work Keith and I put in. An empire of dirt leveled by a single young man. I wanted to let out a hysterical laugh, but stopped when I remembered Henderson.
Fuck, it had been such a long day.
“Careful, boss. Grayson might not be around, but Cel will relay anything she sees this evening.”
I nodded, touched by the big man’s concern. “It’s been a long day, hell, a long week for both of us. If I’ve never said it before, I’ll say it now. I’m thankful for you always being by my side.”
Henderson curtly nodded, gave Cel a last look before taking his leave. Jesus, the man worried too much, but it was one of the reasons why I trusted him with my back.
Chapter Eight
Chase
“Got to hold still for me to work. Can you do that?” asked Jace, Kade’s tattoo artist.
A large, bald, ex-gang member covered in ink from head to toe, Jace sat to the left of the chair, inking needle in hand. Seeing the needle, any needle, unsettled me. Stirred painful cravings and urgings I knew would never really go away.
First-hand experience taught me to expect the worst from the men in the Brotherhood. Violence festered inside each of them like a breathing and living thing, and each day reminded me the only reason I remained intact was because Kade made me untouchable.
Kade mentioned Jace’s parlor did most of the ink for members of the Brotherhood, but the man only did personal work for a few. Apparently, I had passed some sort of test. After I took off my clothes, Jace looked long and hard at Marco’s ink on my chest. He frowned, no doubt seeing something he didn’t like.
No judgment or disgust lingered in his eyes, though. He reminded me of an artist looking at a challenge. Made me like him even more. Maybe trust him a little, at least with knowing what to do with the tainted mark on my body.
Kade squeezed my arm in comfort, his grip like iron shackles, lacking any gentleness, knowing what I needed.
“Chase hates needles. He just recently kicked R,” Kade explained. Heat warmed my cheeks at the obvious pride in his voice. For some reason, Jace looked impressed.
Breathing easy, I nodded at Jace. “I’m ready.”
“There’s my good boy,” Kade said, brushing his lips slightly against my forehead.
The simple gesture spoke volumes. Elevated the simple visit for a tattoo cover-up to a cleansing of old sins and taints. Time to bid farewell to my old self, to turn the lock and throw away the key at the broken shell of a boy who allowed himself to be a captive of his addiction. Who allowed himself to be turned into an object.
Strange to think how that realization made me a little sad. A part of me refused to throw away the key. To cling to the fractured pieces of self that couldn’t be put back together again.
True to his word, Kade didn’t leave my side the entire time the needle bit into my skin. The entire process turned out less painful than I thought, and when it came to pain, my mind always thought of the worst.
Intrigued, I watched Jace work his magic, with Kade’s steady presence beside me, as the swirls of black of Marco’s name took on a new form and identity. Something once shameful, too unbearable to look at, transformed to art.
Swirls of color spilled from the design Kade chose. Green vines curling to the tip of my nipple, graced by a tiny explosion of roses. The letter ‘K,’ subtle but standing proud center stage. Just like how my reality revolved around Kade. My Master. A tingle shot down my spine. Centered right into my core at the secret we shared under my clothes.
“Mine,” Kade simply said, smile stretching unbelievably wide.
He didn’t growl, didn’t make any animal noises, just stated the obvious fact. No. He stated the beautiful, glaring truth. He was a man who knew exactly the value of his possessions.
“Yours,” I agreed. The sudden surge of longing and needy desperation in my voice grated at the small part of me that kept on stupidly fighting. The me that refused to give up and ended up twisting all the newfound bliss and order of my new reality.
The ugly voice inside me spoke, “Trading one man’s leash for another, letting another man replace the brand of your old Master with his own isn’t something to be proud of. You’re just telling the world whose bitch you are now.”
“Chase.”
I focused on Kade. Marveled at how the firm and controlled authority in his voice clashed with the drowning look of want in his eyes. Heat rippled between us, faint and subtle, like dry wind caressing skin, sending a sharp bolt to my chest and thickening member.
“Master?” Not Kade, but our clearly defined roles.
Master, the center of my universe and sole reason for living, but what would happen if Kade was suddenly yanked from under my feet? Who would bind me, test the limits of my body with strap and flogger, cane and whip, and leave me breathless, panting, and eager to receive his steadying and soothing kisses after? A peace offering, or in his o
wn twisted way, perhaps he saw it as a proclamation of his love?
Who would love me then and offer me protection if Kade disappeared?
“What’s wrong, Chase?” Hunger faded from his eyes, replaced by concern.
Jace finished up, applying ointment and bandaging the new ink, and excused himself from the room to give us privacy.
I couldn’t offer Kade lies. He’d just see through me, but I hadn’t been sure why I didn’t give him complete honesty either. Clutching at his arm, my voice broke.
“I’m scared. Scared you’ll leave and…”
Kade expelled a sigh of relief. He brushed away the stray strand of hair on my face and leaned over. Not to kiss me on the forehead like a child or pet needing comfort, but crushed his mouth over my quivering lips.
My ears caught the sound of leather slithering from belt loops, Kade freeing his belt while deepening his kiss. He pushed his prodding tongue between my half-opened and waiting lips, and I sucked down hard. Alone. No Jace, Cel, or any unwanted audience present in Jace’s private parlor to witness our precious time alone, Just Kade and I.
The old me would’ve panicked the moment he pinned my hands above my head. Screeched when the leather looped around my wrists securely, and I would instantly associate restraints with the promise of hurt and pain.
“Look what you do to me,” Kade said with panting breaths after releasing my lips. He straddled me on the chair, impatiently yanking off my shirt, practically tearing the denim of my jeans, stripping me bare until all I wore was his collar, the plug, and his new mark.
The old me would’ve fought and kicked at him like an animal. The present me, new and improved, leaned against the press of Kade’s body. Each one of my senses became hyperaware, seeing, hearing, and feeling every movement and gesture. My ears strained to catch rustle and crackle of our clothes, knowing full well the heated flesh beneath struggled to be set free, to be able to caress and collide. I wanted Kade’s hard muscles pressing down on my soft and pliant body, which was so eager, so hungry to please and submit.
Kade placed a light kiss over the gauze on my left pectoral covering the new tattoo. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For doing this for us. For being brave.”
For us.
Two words that came attached with a ringing finality. He wanted this so much, but I didn’t agree to it to please him. I wanted it, too. To replace the old brand my tormentor placed without my consent, with the name of the man who bore two sides of the same coin. Master, relentless and unforgiving, but sometimes he was just Kade, rough and conflicted, knowing only one way to show his affection and love.
And bravery? Maybe there was something brave about moving forward, gambling your soul, and taking a blind leap of faith, but I didn’t feel brave at all.
“Not without your help,” I answered.
“It takes two to make any relationship work, pup.”
It struck me how normal those words sounded, like we were just two lovers trying to make it work, not confused captive and captor.
Careful of the new tattoo, he closed his mouth over my right nipple instead. Before I could formulate a response, Kade tugged and tweaked, wrestling a moan from my lips.
Kade kept my legs apart with his own, his other hand slipping downwards, turning the transparent plug in my ass I’d nearly forgotten was still there. Unable to help myself, I groaned at the grinding sensation, thrusting myself at his hand, but he only gave a teasing slap and began pumping my cock.
Pausing from his task, he asked, “So hard so soon, pup?”
“I’m always hard for you, Master.”
“Good answer.” He bit down, making me cry out, leaving an imprint of his teeth. Kade’s erection pressed hard against his jeans, and I wished I had my hands free to unzip his jeans. Seeing where my gaze hovered, he grinned. “You need to get me ready first before you can have this.”
I swallowed. “Of course, but I’m not sure if the chair can take your weight, Master.”
He chuckled, fumbling for something below the chair, and my upper body reclined lower. Kade unzipped his jeans and eased his way up, straddling my face, pressing his tip, already leaking pre-cum, between my lips. Knowing this was one of his favorite positions, I let him in. He used the wall behind him to keep himself balanced, careful not to choke me by accident.
Constant practice enabled me to take his impressive length without gagging, and I liked how he kept his intense gaze on me with every inch I swallowed. Hitting the back of my throat, Kade pulled back out, letting me recover my breath before sliding back in.
Steady and rhythmic, deep and deeper, he filled me with the familiar taste of him. Movements well practiced and done so often, we devoured each other with our eyes instead of focusing on our bodies. Seeing Kade close his eyes, and how easily I drew out grunts and groans from him, gave me a certain kind of power, even though he was the one riding my face.
I began to apply more suction, but he opened his eyes and quickly pulled out.
“Easy. I don’t want to come so soon yet.”
Kade got off me. Planted a quick kiss on my lips and took position in front of my legs, easily parting them and lifting them over his shoulders. The need for protection taken care of when he had both of us tested and we came back clean.
“I’ve wanted to take you since this since morning,” Kade growled, taking out the plug.
Gripping my legs hard, he drove inside my lubed ass in one smooth movement, stealing my next few breaths. Slight pain, brief and fleeting, soon became forgotten as he reached for my shaft, thumbing and stroking the swollen length until I groaned.
Pleasure jolted up my chest and cock. Kade didn’t pull out immediately. Like always, he remained buried inside me, letting me feel him filling me completely and reinforcing me with the lesson that pleasure always came with a bit of pain.
“Please,” I pleaded, voice breathy, knowing he wanted to hear me beg for mercy, to reassert his control. “Master. Please.”
“Of course, pup. Be patient.”
He drew out of me slowly, intent on dragging out my torment. Feeling reckless, bold, and eager to test boundaries, maybe all three, I folded my legs around his waist, drawing him in.
“Fuck,” Kade muttered as I forced the muscles of my ass to clench, to hold onto his steel hard cock.
I expected a reprimand to follow. The promise of a severe punishment, but nothing came. Kade groaned, going balls deep, savage gaze on me, his careful control unhinged and not giving a fuck about it. He shifted his hips when he drew out, changing angle, diving back in one swift thrust and hitting my sweet spot.
I gasped, wriggling at my restrained hands, wanting them free so I could grip his shoulders. My eyes widened, pleading him for more. Kade gave it to me, aiming at the spot again and again, driving me to the edge of sanity.
Remembering his pleasure came first, I kept myself back from tittering over the edge so soon. Watched Kade from beneath my eyelashes just like how he devoured each of the reactions as he pulled out of me. Emotions, base, primal, and more powerful than simple lust and desire. Maybe even more powerful and moving than love, whatever that was.
Mindless, instinctive, and confident possession—the unquestionable and unwavering certainty we were no longer two separate individuals, prisoner and jailor trapped in a hellish cycle, but one entity soaring to a freedom only we could define.
Whatever you need to tell yourself to feel better, pup. Ignoring the voice became easier now that it grew faint, reduced to a bare whisper and easily forgotten.
“Come for me, Chase. Let me hear my fucking name on your lips,” Kade said against me. I exploded, strings of cum decorating his chest.
His gaze sought both my pleasure and understanding at the same time, that he was no longer a Master demanding his slave to serve his whims, but a man who wanted to see his partner unravel in his arms.
Partner and soul mate, not owned object or brainwashed subject. I liked that a lot. It was
enough to hurtle me to oblivion. Made me scream his name as I clenched hard around him, gave me the courage to finally toss aside useless and lingering self-doubt and distrust.
Kade gripped my hips, slamming into me one last time before emptying his load. We held onto each other like that for awhile, panting, grounding ourselves back to reality. It didn’t escape me the way Kade clutched at me like I was the last good thing he’d ever be able to hold before the shit storm hit.
That scared me shitless for some reason, yanked me out from the safe after-glow of sex. Kade looked too distracted to notice. He cleaned both of us and the chair with some wet wipes before heading back out to the reception area to settle business with Jace.
“Hey,” I greeted Cel, taking a seat beside the killer on the couches.
She placed down the magazine she had been reading, her black gaze frighteningly unreadable as usual. “Did it hurt like you thought?” Cel asked, maybe for politeness’ sake.
She didn’t speak often, especially when Grayson was around. I could tell she made Kade uncomfortable for some reason, even more than Grayson. When I’d asked him why, he’d said, “Grayson may be an evil and sadistic son-of-bitch, but at least he’s honest about himself. Preferable to something that’s hardly human. Soulless.”
If he intended to scare me, it didn’t work. Maybe some truth existed in his words. I saw that every time I locked gazes with Cel. Seen it for myself, the way she pulled the trigger with the same expression when Keith ordered a traitor killed.
“Terrified me at the start, but the pain wasn’t as bad as I expected,” I told her, remembering how careful, how delicate Jace appeared when he worked, like an artist with a canvas.
Very different from the third-rate inker Marco called in while he and his men held me down. I shivered at the old nightmare, pressed my fingers against the gauze over my heart, hidden under my clothes.
When I pulled myself back to reality, I noticed Cel watching me, the way a curious predator watched a potential prey. I wasn’t arrogant enough to think I’d won the killer over or somehow made her my ally, but any company was preferable to none. The only other person I could talk to was Kade, but I couldn’t talk to him freely either, especially in public, and that sometimes made me incredibly lonely.
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