by Sara Brookes
Marcus’s gaze flicked to the side, then back to the floor as though he wasn’t sure where to look, but anywhere that wasn’t Enver’s face. “I would like to serve you while you enjoy your cigar.” That gaze flicked to Enver’s crotch. “If you’ll allow it.”
Even though Enver’s cock gave a twitch in response, he knew he couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. What they shared didn’t deserve this.
He dropped the cigar into the filled glass to extinguish it, leaned forward and cupped Marcus’s jaw. Those gorgeous eyes studied him as Enver set his lips against Marcus’s. He gently kissed him, his gut clenching at the thought that this could very well be the last time he touched Marcus. He held a secret that could be a deal breaker, effectively killing this relationship just as it was getting started.
“Monster.”
Enver found himself staring into darkness. He blinked a few times as the sudden transition, impressed with the reaction of the program to the safe-word trigger. He hadn’t meant to test the feature Marcus had told him about in the early days, but it had worked perfectly. As he removed the visor, he found Marcus staring at him, annoyance twisting his lips.
“What the fuck was that?” Marcus tossed his headset to the desk. “I offer you a blowjob and you sever the connection?”
“We need to talk.” The look that ghosted over Marcus’s face was exactly what Enver had been hoping to avoid. “I need to talk,” he amended.
Though the panic didn’t disappear from Marcus’s expression, he relaxed. “All right.”
Enver sighed as he stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. Talking about his issues was never easy. Even though he was comfortable with it, exposing something that deeply personal left him feeling vulnerable and exposed.
Much like the photo hanging on the second floor of the club.
“There’s something important you should—need—to know about me before we go down this road together,” Enver said carefully. “I thought I could avoid it, but...yeah. You need to know what kind of monster you’re offering yourself to.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not the sweet and innocent man you think I am.”
Marcus snorted. “Those are two things I would never use to describe you, Enver.”
Good. Enver needed the levity. Needed Marcus relaxed because explaining the situation was just as difficult as hearing it.
“Everyone wonders why I never have sex at the club. Why it is so rare for me to participate sexually—full-blown intercourse—in a scene.”
“Always giving your sub pleasure, never taking any of your own. I haven’t been here long, but I’ve heard.”
Those rumors were exactly why Enver had safed out of the scene. He needed to set the record straight. “Speculation is that I don’t enjoy intercourse. Couldn’t be further from the truth. I enjoy it immensely, and that’s the problem.”
Marcus’s brow furrowed. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m a recovering sex addict.” Enver paused, waiting for the information to sink in. When Marcus remained silent, he wondered if he’d made a mistake, but there was no turning back now. “When I started getting into the lifestyle, I already had a problem. The inherent nature of BDSM just meant that I was around people who recognized it. Before I realized it was an issue, I took risks. But the reward was never enough. I always had to have one more. I knew nothing else would compare. In that moment, nothing existed. Work, family, even my partner. There was just that pure, physical pleasure. Then it was jacking off in the bathroom at work. A lunchtime quickie in the car. It was leaving work, finding a hooker. Then that wasn’t enough. So I picked one up at lunch, one after work, another after dinner. I did anything and everything I could to get off. I didn’t even care if my partner did or not. I took what I needed and I was done. Sex for me was a drug, and I grabbed a hit whenever and wherever I could. Bottom line... I possessed a dangerous lack of self-awareness.”
“Does Kochran know?”
“That’s not what you want to know.” Enver brushed his thumb down the side of Marcus’s face. “Go on. Ask.”
The question danced on Marcus’s lips for several minutes before he finally spoke. “Did you ever...hurt anyone?”
“No. I never hurt or forced anyone to satisfy my needs. Ever. I was pretty fucked up, but I never crossed that line. I never will either. Violence is my hard limit.” Enver paused. “To answer your other question, Kochran knows I struggled in the past with an addiction and that I choose not to engage in sexual activity. I provided him with paperwork from my therapist certifying that I wasn’t a danger to anyone, but that’s it. If you’re concerned, my therapist is my first contact on my phone and I still see him if things get out of control. This is the only vice I have now.” Enver pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tossed it on the desk. “Only using myself.”
“I...saw you. In your car. Since we’re confessing...” Marcus’s head lifted, his cheeks bright with flushed patches. “The night I did the body scan. I came to give you the mineral oil ’cause you left it, and I found you...”
“Jacking off?” Enver finished.
“Yeah,” Marcus responded quietly. “I’m sorry. I know I was intruding on a private moment, but I couldn’t help it. You were just so...gorgeous.”
Enver remembered the desperation that had clawed at him. The aching need he hadn’t been able to rid himself of. “Rubbed myself raw trying to get you out of my system. Hadn’t allowed myself to do that in ages.”
Marcus licked his lips. “Why are you telling me this? Like I said, earlier, you could have just said you weren’t interested in me and we could have moved on.”
“Because we both know that’s not the right answer either.” Enver stroked the strands of Marcus’s hair, enjoying the silky feel between his fingers. “Besides, I spent almost an hour trying to get you out of my system and all I succeeded in doing was making me want you more.”
“An hour?” Marcus asked, clearly dumbfounded. “You masturbated for an hour? Not sure if I should commend you or ask if you still have a dick.”
“Both?” Enver sobered. “Sex won’t be easy. There will be times that I want to, but I can’t. That’s why you needed to know. I’m not trying to push you away. I’m trying to keep myself—my addiction—under control. The safe word is just as important to me as it is to you. I’ll honor it if you agree to do the same.”
Marcus stood, inching into Enver’s space. “Thank you for being willing to share that piece of you with me. I’m honored. And humbled.” He slanted his mouth over Enver’s, giving him a slow and easy kiss. For a long minute, Enver allowed Marcus to explore as he pleased. When Marcus’s body trembled against his, Enver took over, plowing over Marcus’s defenses and taking full control of the moment.
He broke away, panting. “Why don’t we duplicate the setup in BLINC out here? Then you can suck my dick in appreciation.”
Chapter Seventeen
Though the room Marcus entered was smaller than Court, the atmosphere was identical. The Keep, as Enver had referred to it when doling out instructions, was a private area free of outside distractions. No windows. A single entrance/exit point.
More importantly—no cameras.
A raised platform to Marcus’s left took up over a quarter of the room, and held a single chair. Though chair was not descriptive enough. The fucking throne dominated the room with unspoken power. The kind of supremacy emitting from that side of the room told Marcus that chair was reserved for special occasions. That same twinge told Marcus that Enver had never used it, so it wasn’t appropriate for what he had in mind.
Instead, he dragged over a vintage Craftsman-inspired lounge chair with oversized rolled arms. The masculine feel of it somehow offset the buttery softness of the leather. Perfect for Enver to sit in for what Marcus had envisioned.
As Marcus set his duffle on the f
loor, Enver’s confession came to mind. Thanks to Marcus’s own sessions with a therapist, he wasn’t freaked out by the sex addiction news. Being in the lifestyle didn’t exclude someone from having personal demons. He wasn’t worried, but he understood Enver’s caution, and appreciated it. It was definitely not a showstopper, and he was glad they were moving forward.
Marcus pulled a cigar out of the bag, along with his cutter and lighter. Then he set the bottle of bourbon and glass beside it. He’d forgotten to grab some ice from the lounge, but he knew Enver didn’t intend to drink during their scene. It served as nothing more than a prop due to the strict rules at Noble House about combining alcohol and play—at least in real life. The virtual reality machine had no such rules. Though Marcus imagined even if those policies weren’t in place, given Enver’s history with addiction, alcohol still wouldn’t come into play.
Unlike inside BLINC, Marcus stripped, shoving his clothes into the duffle. Just as he settled to his knees on the plush rug, the door opened. He didn’t need to look to know it was Enver. The man’s power and energy were astounding, pressing against Marcus’s skin. No wonder he was usually the talk of the club, and not because of his unusual practices when it came to sexual contact. Marcus had felt his prowess knock against him as soon as he’d laid eyes on Enver for the first time, but he didn’t fully understand it until this exact moment.
Some would consider their attempt at normalcy unhealthy. Two scarred souls seeking solace in one another. But Marcus had stopped listening, or caring, about those opinions long ago.
His focus snapped to Enver when he slid into the chair. Marcus risked lifting his gaze. The handsome beauty of Enver’s features was breathtaking. Dark hair touched with gray at the temples. Blue-green eyes that constantly changed color, and were as sharp as a hawk, never missing a trick. The strong jaw etched from a granite slab.
That gorgeousness made it hard to think rationally, frying Marcus’s synapses. Made the deliciously wicked moment all the more sinful. Marcus wanted to capture all the ruthless energy. In some way, he had inside the virtual reality machine. But out here it was wild and free.
Enver was risking a lot. Everyone had demons, but Enver had willingly unlocked the iron cage he usually kept his past confined with and let Marcus in. Enver was a man used to denial. Giving in this way, releasing himself of the deprivation, providing a connection they both craved.
“I’m here for your pleasure, Sir.”
“Looking at you like this gives me pleasure.” Enver leaned forward, curling his fingers around Marcus’s shaft, pushing down to the root, and then moved under to tug on his nuts. Marcus moaned and jerked, lifting his face to meet Enver’s gaze.
“I want to know what your mouth feels like on my cock inside your program,” Enver said. He moved in until their lips were centimeters apart, and whispered roughly, “But right now, let me feel it during a scene for real.” Marcus started to reach for the cigar and lighter, but Enver tugged him closer, claiming his mouth with a violent kiss. He slashed his lips across Marcus’s and sank his tongue inside, owning him with a possessive dominance that had Marcus opening wider and keening for more.
Enver yanked his head back and to the side, tearing their mouths apart. He sat back with a huff, his chest moving rapidly as he fought to catch his breath. “Show me your skill with the cigar.”
Marcus’s body buzzed from head to feet, his grip on reality slipping. Enver was entirely too potent, coaxing him into compliance with nothing more than a heated glance and a single order. He kept his gaze locked on Enver’s as he went through the motions of prepping the cigar the same way he had in the simulator.
He handed Enver the cigar, flicking the wheel on his lighter to spark a flame. Enver’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked in a few times, until the cherry had a nice color. Marcus closed the lighter, returning it to the table, and sat back on his heels again.
Enver settled into the chair, rolling the lit cigar between two of his fingers.
“Sir, may I?” His mouth was even with Enver’s thigh even as he asked.
“You may,” Enver said around the cigar at the corner of his mouth.
Given the freedom, Marcus leaned forward to press his mouth against the denim straining over Enver’s cock. He didn’t open the zipper right away, wanting to prolong the moment unless Enver ordered him to. He breathed Enver in, creating pressure against the ridge, feeling the erection jump under the tight denim. He drew down the zipper and peeled back the two sides. Somehow, it didn’t surprise him to learn that Enver had gone commando. The dark red flush of Enver’s cock was beautifully framed by the cornflower-blue denim.
“You have an amazing dick.” Even though he’d already seen it a few times in the simulator, he hadn’t been this close for a while. “I’ve been wanting to tell you that since you let me do the full-body scan.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.” Marcus swallowed. “Couldn’t stop thinking about how I could feed off it all night.” He glanced up, certain that his own dick was going to snap off at the sight of the wicked heat dancing in Enver’s gaze. Unimaginable warmth swirled to every corner of his body at the unguarded longing staring back at him.
“You’re remarkably cute on your knees, dancing around the words to ask if you can suck my cock.” Enver smirked, taking a few pulls on the cigar. He reached down, lifting himself free of the fabric and angling the shaft toward Marcus’s mouth. “Suck me.”
Marcus locked in on Enver’s intense stare as he darted out his tongue. Warm, salty essence flooded his taste buds, saturating his system. Without thinking, he leaned forward and licked, enjoying the way Enver’s thighs and abdomen tightened. He closed his lips over the crown, a warm tendril of pleasure arcing through him at the grunt Enver gave. He tasted a musky saltiness that told him Enver had been aroused at some point tonight. Inhaling the pungent, heady male fragrance of sex and sweat, Marcus tongued the indention pressing against his tongue, lifting his gaze when Enver inhaled sharply.
“Fuck.” Enver’s throaty murmur arrowed straight to Marcus’s cock. The sound combined with the image Enver made caused Marcus’s blood to riot. Enver titled his head back, took a long pull on the cigar and blew it out in a stream. Marcus wasn’t sure why he found having Enver smoke while he sucked him off so insanely hot, but dammit, this was so fucking irresistible.
A cloud of smoke hung in the air, curling up toward the single light shining down on them. This time, when Enver started to blow another stream, Marcus slid down to take him all the way to the root.
Enver’s thighs jerked under Marcus’s palms, another satisfied groan echoing through the room, saturating the already charged air. He didn’t want to take his gaze off Enver, but he wanted to get completely lost in the man. Drown in him. Crawl inside him and lose himself. That authoritative way he still controlled the moment even though Marcus had his cock down his throat.
Enver’s low sound of hunger spurred Marcus on. He breathed him in, scenting the sensual blend of male and smoke. Marcus yearned for more, wishing he would heal Enver with a snap of his fingers. It if was possible, he would. He felt safe with Enver, as though they could take on the world together.
Inside this safe space, his troubles with Davis didn’t exist.
“Take it all.” Enver’s hand cupped the back of Marcus’s neck, the clench of his fingers electrifying Marcus’s skin. The tight grip and commanding tone signaled that Enver had allowed Marcus to play for long enough.
He gladly surrendered, loving the smell, feel, and taste of every hot inch down his throat. Aggression and lust mingled inside him, taking over his mind and body with the need to make this man come. Enver made deep, vibrating noises that almost sounded like an animal in agony as he started churning his hips.
Suddenly, he yanked Marcus’s mouth off his cock, wrapping his hand around his well-lubricated shaft. As Marcus watched, Enver stroked himself with one hand, droppe
d the stub of his cigar into the nearby glass and wrapped his other hand around the back of Marcus’s neck to pin him in the kneeling position between his spread legs.
He drove his hand up and down with piston-fast strokes, his penetrating gaze locked on Marcus. Within the space of a few long breaths, he shuddered and came, spurting seed onto Marcus’s chest. Marcus gasped as the first jetting stream of hot semen hit his skin. He moaned as another splash marked him, fiery lust flickering through his core as Enver continued to orgasm.
Enver’s gaze roved over Marcus as his strokes slowed. “Sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen, kneeling there covered with my come.” He tugged Marcus’s mouth to his, kissing him with a brutal strength that told Marcus the orgasm hadn’t flagged Enver’s arousal. “How are you so fucking sexy and sweet and incredible all at the same time?” He shook his head, dazed as he grazed his knuckles up Marcus’s jaw, over his cheek, and into his hair.
There was so much tenderness in his expression, Marcus feared he might cry. This man gave him a bizarre sense of belonging he couldn’t explain. “It’s hard to control myself around you—in or out of BLINC. I just...want you so much. Every time you touch me, I swear I feel it all the way to my goddamn soul. I could present myself on my knees for you forever,” he admitted quietly.
“Sounds like a good way to spend time to me,” Enver said in a soft voice as he folded over Marcus, holding him, breathing together as they sat still for long minutes.
“Sir, please.” Marcus bit back a string of curses as the power of the moment washed over him.
“Christ, that desperate sound never gets old.”
Marcus’s heart pounded as though he’d just run a marathon, every muscle limp. Enver reached between them, his gaze locked on Marcus’s as he brushed his fingers against Marcus’s thighs. Electricity jolted through Marcus at the contact, causing him to arch his back, his breath catching in his throat.
Sanity snapped. “Please...son of a bitch...shit... Sir. I can’t...”
