Broken Rules

by Michaela Grey

Dorian scowled at him and slumped back onto the trunk.

  “Come on, what’s her name?” Sterling cajoled.

  “Tatum,” Cricket offered.

  “And do our parents approve of her?”

  “Doubt it,” Dorian muttered.

  “Tatum’s a little… unconventional,” Cricket said.

  Someone else approached the booth, and Cricket turned her attention to them. Dorian went back to his phone and Sterling pouted, deprived of his target.

  He sulked into his coffee for a while, as Cricket sold several more pieces of glassware, her smile never slipping.

  “Fox,” she said during a lull, “there’s an estate sale in Shaughnessy on Wednesday. Will you go with me?”

  “I’m busy,” Sterling said instantly.

  Cricket gave him a disillusioned stare. “You don’t have a job. You don’t have a life, you barely even have any hobbies, and it’s not a flea market, so you can’t claim we’re slumming it, so no, you’re not busy. Don’t give me that shit.”

  Sterling glowered. “I could be busy,” he mumbled.

  “Pick me up at seven,” Cricket told him.

  “In the goddamn morning?” Sterling yelped.

  Dorian snickered.

  “Stay out of it,” Cricket said without looking.

  “Fine.” Sterling sighed. “You’d better make it up to me, though.” He stood up, flicking dust from his jeans. “I’ll see you next time I’m forced to.”

  “Dinner on the hill Tuesday night,” Cricket said. “Mom and Dad want to meet Tatum. We’re all summoned.”

  Sterling groaned and escaped.

  HE SHOWERED twice more before he was due at the club, somehow afraid that Sanyam would know about the masturbation, maybe by smelling it on his skin. He changed his outfit four times before swearing and going back to the first one, a black button-down shirt and a pair of dove-gray slacks.

  He considered himself critically in the mirror.

  “You look like a fucking accountant,” he told his reflection and yanked the clothes off.

  In the end, he chose a long-sleeved silk T-shirt the exact color of his eyes and a pair of leather pants he’d never quite had the courage to wear in public before. They hugged his ass and made his legs look even longer, and Sterling swallowed hard and left his apartment before he could change his mind.

  He drove to the club, the roar of the Lamborghini’s engine somehow soothing, and found Kimi at the bar.

  She winked and slid a drink down the polished wood to him before picking up her phone.

  Within a minute, she set it back down and nodded at Sterling. “Go on back. He’s yours for the night. Or maybe I should say… you’re his for the night.” She grinned, and butterflies stirred in Sterling’s stomach.

  He gulped his drink down and threaded his way through the crowds, ignoring the show being performed on the stage, and stepped into the hall that led to Sanyam’s room. It was quieter, the passage lit with soft white light, and Sterling’s breath was loud in his ears as he stopped in front of Sanyam’s door and lifted a hand to knock. He hesitated, chewing his lip.

  Don’t be a fucking idiot, he told himself. Just knock already.

  Chapter Six

  THERE WAS a knock, and Sanyam straightened. “Come in, Fox.”

  The door swung open, revealing Fox, shifting his weight and looking ready to bolt at any second.

  “Shut the door behind you,” Sanyam said and stepped away to give him breathing room. After a minute, the door closed, and Sanyam turned back to inspect Fox from head to toe.

  He was wearing an olive green shirt that made his eyes even greener and tight leather pants that cupped his crotch and clung to his long legs.

  Sanyam hummed approval. “Very nice. Come here.”

  Fox took a step forward, hands opening and closing at his sides, and another, until he was right in front of Sanyam. They were almost the same height, but Sanyam outweighed him by close to thirty pounds. Sanyam decided he liked Fox’s willowy build and lean frame, even though he was too slender. He needed feeding up.

  He ran a finger along Fox’s jaw. “Kiss me.”

  Fox hesitated, then leaned in and pressed their lips together in a chaste, dry kiss. Sanyam regarded him with dissatisfaction as he pulled away.

  “That was not a kiss. That was a tragic disappointment. Kiss me properly.”

  Fox’s eyes tightened, and he took a deliberate step forward, so their bodies were flush. He cupped the back of Sanyam’s neck and tilted his head, slotting their mouths together.

  This time the kiss was filthy, wet and hungry, and Sanyam made a noise of contentment as Fox pushed into his mouth with dirty sweeps of his tongue.

  “Much better,” Sanyam said when he broke away.

  Fox was breathing hard, his pupils dilated, but he still said nothing.

  “Contract is on the table,” Sanyam said. “It’s another temporary one. After tonight, if you wish to see me again, we will negotiate a more permanent agreement. Sign it before we go any further.”

  Fox turned to the table and picked up the pen. He signed without looking at the papers, and Sanyam tsked disapprovingly.

  “Someone is going to take advantage of you someday, if you keep doing that. Look at the papers, Fox. Fill out the hard limits, at the very least.”

  Fox’s mouth flattened, but he turned back and bent over the table, writing in quick, jagged letters. When he was done, he shoved the papers at Sanyam, who took them and sat down on the sofa.

  “Electricity, fecal play, watersports, sounding,” he read aloud. “Very good, Fox. These are all things I prefer to do without too.”

  Fox’s rigid stance eased slightly.

  Sanyam pointed at the floor between his own feet. “Knees.”

  He signed under Fox’s name as he waited for Fox to obey, and didn’t look up until Fox had knelt in front of him, his knuckles white with tension.

  Only then did Sanyam set the papers aside and lean forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Did you obey my order, Fox?”

  “Yes,” Fox said immediately, tipping his chin up. His eyes were defiant and guilty, though, and Sanyam sucked in a breath.

  “You’re lying to me.”

  “I’m not!” Fox protested, dropping his gaze to his knees.

  Sanyam caught him by the throat and lifted him up effortlessly as Fox choked and grabbed at Sanyam’s wrist. “You jerked off; it’s written all over you.” He let go, and Fox sprawled backward. “Strip. Or I will strip you and you will leave here with your clothes in pieces.”

  Fox’s throat worked, and he fumbled at the waist of his pants, then shoved them down and off with his shoes in a tangled mess. His shirt followed as Sanyam stood up and pointed at the rack in the corner.

  “Facing the wall. Arms up next to the cuffs.”

  Fox stood and stumbled toward the rack. Sanyam caught his left arm and strapped it into the cuff. He repeated that with the right arm and knelt, pushing Fox’s feet apart and cuffing them in place so that Fox was spread-eagled.

  Fox teetered, and Sanyam skimmed his hand down the curve of his spine.

  “Remember those manners I spoke of?” he said. He stepped close and nipped at Fox’s earlobe. “You’re about to be taught some.”

  Fox shuddered, his eyes closed.

  “Actions have consequences, Fox,” Sanyam said, stepping back to choose a riding crop from his wall. “What’s your safeword?”

  “C-Calypso,” Fox managed. He was trembling, and Sanyam hesitated before taking a blindfold out of the drawer. The second it was in place, Fox sagged, tension visibly leaving his body.

  “We can stop at any point if you need to,” Sanyam reminded him.

  “Don’t coddle me,” Fox snapped.

  Sanyam smiled and struck the first blow.

  Fox jerked and cried out. A red welt rose on the fair skin of his buttocks, and Sanyam ran his finger along it admiringly as Fox shivered under his touch.

  “Do you know what sub space i
s?” Sanyam asked.

  Fox’s mouth worked as if he was trying to remember what words were. “A-are you going to punish me or talk me to death?”

  “I can’t do both?” Sanyam said mildly.

  “Fuck you,” Fox hissed.

  Sanyam hit him again. “Answer the question.”

  Fox’s head fell back, and he opened and closed his mouth. “I—don’t know. Wh-what it is. I d-don’t—”

  Sanyam caressed the stripes he’d made, and Fox shivered, hips bucking.

  “It’s a feeling of euphoria, of safety and trust,” Sanyam said. “You may lose awareness when you hit it, feel like you’re floating or in space.”

  “What’s your p-point?” Fox managed.

  “My God, you’re a brat,” Sanyam said and brought the crop down three more times in quick succession. He waited until Fox was still again, quivering in the restraints, before he continued. “You may experience it tonight. It’s important to understand that it’s normal and you’re safe with me. I am going to punish you, but you can still safeword at any time.”

  “Get on with it,” Fox said through his teeth.

  “With pleasure,” Sanyam said and went to work in earnest. Fox’s pale skin showed every mark, and Sanyam lost himself in the joy of striping him from hips to upper thighs, each blow placed with careful precision.

  He stopped after a few minutes and reached around to catch Fox’s shaft in his hand and stroke him, rough and careless. Arousal careened through his bloodstream at Fox’s helpless state.

  Fox sobbed, head falling forward blindly as he bucked into Sanyam’s fist.

  “Don’t come,” Sanyam said. “You are forbidden to come, do you hear me?”

  “I have to,” Fox said, pulling at his bonds. “I have to—”

  “You have to obey me,” Sanyam said flatly. “If you come, you will not enjoy the punishment that follows. Do you understand?”

  Fox was still for a long moment and then nodded jerkily.

  Sanyam stepped back and turned to his drawer of toys, pulling out an adjustable ring and then fastening it in place around Fox’s cock.

  Fox sucked in air through his nose but said nothing, his head turned to track Sanyam’s movement.

  Sanyam leaned in and kissed him, nipping Fox’s lower lip as he skimmed a hand over the curve of Fox’s ass. He slipped under to press a finger against his hole, and Fox tensed and pushed back, seeking more, but Sanyam pulled away.

  “Not right now,” he said. He picked up the crop and counted off the blows as he struck them.

  He was only halfway to his goal when Fox went limp, his head falling against his chest as he hung in the restraints.

  Sanyam kept going. He knew what sub space looked like when he saw it, and if he stopped now, he’d just pull Fox back out of it. That was the last thing he wanted.

  Finally he tossed the crop to the side. He was painfully aroused himself, so hard it hurt, but it wasn’t time for that. Instead he took off the cock ring, knelt and undid the ankle cuffs, then stood and removed the wrist restraints.

  Fox fell against him, head lolling, and Sanyam half dragged, half carried his unresisting form to the couch. He sat and arranged Fox on his side, long limbs tucked in neatly. Then he took the blindfold off and settled Fox’s head in his lap, stroking the hair off his forehead.

  Fox’s eyes were blank and unaware, his mouth soft. He looked desperately young and vulnerable, and Sanyam felt a startling surge of protectiveness.

  “No one’s ever taken you in hand, have they?” he murmured. “You’re dying to be dominated, to be pulled out of your head, but you don’t know how to ask for it.” He laughed quietly. “You’re not a fox, you’re a kit. You put up a good front, but you’re just a frightened pup, underneath the bluster.”

  Fox’s eyes closed, lashes thick and dark against his pale cheeks, and he rubbed his face against Sanyam’s thigh dreamily.

  Sanyam stroked his hair. “Rest, kit.”

  IT WAS close to an hour before Fox stirred. He turned his head a fraction and froze as he clearly realized where he was.

  Sanyam smiled down at him, gently pushing his hair away from his face. “Welcome back.”

  Fox jerked away and sat up so fast he nearly overbalanced. “What—”

  “You hit sub space,” Sanyam said, watching him carefully. He leaned over and pulled a bottle of water from the minifridge by the couch. “Drink this.”

  Fox batted his hand away. “Not thirsty.”

  Sanyam narrowed his eyes. “We’re not done scening, Fox, which means that you’re still mine to command. Drink.”

  Fox glared at him but snatched the bottle and drained it, his throat working.

  When he was done, Sanyam took the empty bottle without comment and tossed it in the recycling bin. “How do you feel?”

  “Horny,” Fox snapped. “Are we going to have sex or not?”

  “No,” Sanyam said, unruffled. “You’re not coming tonight either.”

  Fox’s mouth fell open. “But—”

  Sanyam raised an eyebrow. “You disobeyed me. Did you think a simple spanking was enough to get you off the hook? It’s not that easy. I’m not going to reward your disobedience with an orgasm. You must be taught to obey.”

  Fox scrambled to his feet, clenching his fists. “Fuck you,” he spat. “I don’t need this—this is stupid.”

  Sanyam didn’t move. “You know where the door is.”

  Fox dragged on his clothes, hissing as he drew the pants on over the welts.

  “This is your last chance,” Sanyam said as Fox fumbled into his shoes. “If you can prove to me that you have the self-control to keep from touching yourself before tomorrow evening, I promise it will be worth it when you return.”

  “Or?” Fox snapped.

  “Or you walk out that door, and you never come back,” Sanyam said.

  Fox spun away and slammed the door behind him.

  It wasn’t until he was done cleaning the room that Sanyam realized he hadn’t warned Fox about the possibility of a sub drop.

  He swore and ran for the front, but Fox was nowhere in sight.

  Kimi raised an eyebrow at him. “’Sup?”

  “Fox—my client for tonight,” Sanyam said. “Did he already leave?”

  “Oh yeah, he blew through here a while ago looking like eighteen different kinds of murder,” Kimi said. “He’s long gone.”

  Sanyam pushed his hands through his hair, blowing out a frustrated breath. “How’s Delfia?”

  “See for yourself,” Kimi said, gesturing with her chin. “She was a little shaky yesterday, but she’s a lot better and back to work today.”

  Delfia was serving a table, handing out drinks with a smile on her face.

  “Ava talked to her,” Kimi continued. “Told her that she didn’t have to put up with that, that if it happens again, Delfia’s welcome to break the guy’s wrist in self-defense and Ava would back her every step of the way. That helped a lot.”

  “Good,” Sanyam said. “I guess I should warn you, so you can tell her, but my… client, Fox… he was with the boy who did that.”

  Kimi tensed. “I thought he looked familiar, but I didn’t—you’re still letting him in here? What the fuck, San?”

  “He’s not like Jackson,” Sanyam said defensively. “He’s—okay, he’s an asshole, and incredibly spoiled, but… there’s good in him. Somewhere. I think… he just has to learn it’s okay to show it.”

  “Fine,” Kimi said. “But if he gets near Delfia, I’ll break his wrist. And possibly his nose.”

  “Fair enough,” Sanyam said. “Do you have the client list? I need to find him. He took off too quickly.”

  Kimi produced the client list, and Sanyam scanned it for Fox’s name. There—he’d put his address but no phone number.

  Sanyam swore under his breath. “It’s too late tonight—I’ll have to go round in the morning. Thanks, Kimi. Give Delfia my love.”

  Chapter Seven

  STERLING WOKE up
and stomped to the bathroom in a foul mood. He stepped on the mess of aftershave he’d forgotten to clean up and cut his foot, swearing violently. He hopped on his other foot as he rocketed from angry to furious in a heartbeat.

  He took a scalding hot shower, scrubbing until his skin was bright red and felt like it was about to peel off as tears prickled his eyelids. He felt filthy, more useless and pathetic than usual, and he couldn’t get clean.

  The red swirled away down the drain from the cut on his foot, and he pressed his forehead against the glass of the shower stall as the hot water pounded his shoulders.

  Finally he gave up and stepped out, avoiding the glass this time, and dried off, flinching as the towel scraped against the bruises from the night before.

  Digging out his softest pair of pajamas, he pulled them on and hobbled into the kitchen, then swore yet again when he remembered that it was Astrid’s day off and there was no breakfast waiting for him.

  On the plus side, there were no jam-sticky hobgoblins sitting at his dining room table, either, so maybe it wasn’t all bad.

  Sterling rooted around in his fridge halfheartedly, but when a cursory search failed to turn up anything besides the casseroles Astrid made ahead of time to cook for him, he gave up and limped back to his room.

  He flopped onto the bed facedown and buried his face in a pillow. The day was going to be a total wash, he could already tell. Better for everyone—especially him—if he just stayed in bed all day.

  When the doorbell rang a few minutes later, Sterling jerked his head up with a snarl, ready to do battle.

  “Fuck off!” he shouted in the direction of the door.

  The bell rang again.

  “Go away,” Sterling roared.

  The bell somehow sounded even more insistent this time.

  Sterling rolled to his feet. He landed on the open wound and snarled under his breath as he limped for the door, prepared to eviscerate whoever had the nerve to talk to him today.

  He was entirely unprepared to be faced with Sanyam, wearing a gray, cabled sweater and carrying two cups of coffee.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Sterling sputtered.