by Piper Scott
He didn’t have to be afraid. Independence didn’t have to mean solitude. Marcus was there for him, and it was Lucian’s prerogative to ask for his help, or to walk away.
“I don’t know how we can make this work,” Lucian admitted in a small voice. He closed his eyes, giving control to Marcus. The bliss of release soothed him. “I don’t think there’s a way we can turn this around.”
“Of course there is. I’m going to make this right for you, fledgling,” Marcus whispered. He kissed the top of Lucian’s head. “I promise that no matter what, I will always make things right. All you have to do is trust me.”
And Lucian did, fully and without reserve.
29
Marcus
“Knob Creek, neat.”
The drink hit Marcus’ open palm and came to a stop. Marcus took a moment to appreciate the stones inside, then looked up to meet Clarissa’s eye. One of the part-time bartenders, Madeline, worked the busier side of the bar while Clarissa cleaned and prepped for the rest of the night. It was closing in on one in the morning on a Friday one week after Lucian’s heartfelt confession behind The Shepherd, and the crowd was thick.
“You look tired,” Marcus remarked, keeping his tone conversational. “Is something bothering you?”
“Bothering me? No. But my full-time bartender quit last Saturday, so I’m scrambling to make up for him.” Clarissa shook her head, but didn’t take a second to slow down. Even as she spoke, she hooked up a bottle to a dispenser and measured a shot for a mixed drink.
“I know,” Marcus said.
Clarissa arched an eyebrow. “You know?”
“It’s a shitty situation, and we’d like to extend our apologies.” From the inside of his suit jacket, Marcus drew a small envelope. He slid it across the table to Clarissa, who’d put the bottle down to stare in wonder at the crisp white stationary. “This is for you, and only for you.”
“What the hell are you going on about?” Clarissa asked. She set the bottle back in place and picked the envelope up, holding it to the LED glow lining the shelves behind her to try to see inside without opening it. “It feels like a card.”
“Astute observation. You’re absolutely correct.” Marcus cracked his knuckles, then stretched his arms over his head. It was almost time. “Open it when you have a second, and make sure you use it on something that’s going to make you happy. Lucian was very clear that he wanted to apologize to you personally, and this is what we came up with.”
The several thousand dollars loaded onto the prepaid Visa inside would brighten Clarissa’s week while she searched for Lucian’s replacement.
“You’re only making a little bit of sense here.” Clarissa tucked the envelope behind the counter, but her eyes stayed on him. “Rewind a little bit so I can get the beginning of your story, because I’m not sure what’s going on.”
“You will soon enough,” Marcus promised. He took a sip of his drink, letting the smooth bourbon wash over his tongue and warm his gullet. “Everyone will.”
Marcus was ready.
Lucian was, too.
All the small details had been worked out, and tough decisions had been made together. What they did tonight wasn’t something they did lightly, but it was something that needed to be done.
Marcus would not allow what belonged to him to be intimidated.
“You’re kind of freaking me out,” Clarissa said. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What’s going on, Marcus?”
Her question was answered not by Marcus, but by the man who arrived at the top of the stairs. Shoulders back, calmly confident, he approached the bar. Marcus watched him out of the corner of his eye, a hint of a smirk twisting his lips. He didn’t need to turn his head to see the man’s bare chest, or to know how the tight leather pants he wore sat on his hip to expose the tapered V leading to his groin, but the thrill of excitement he got from seeing the show play out in real time was worth the glance.
Lucian was stunning.
It wasn’t long before Lucian reached the bar, taking his spot behind Marcus’ left shoulder. Marcus kept his head forward, eyes set on Clarissa. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. It was rare that she was speechless, but Marcus wouldn’t have it any other way. The purpose of tonight was to make an impact, and they were off to a very good start.
“My guest has arrived.” Marcus slid his drink back across the counter and stood. Lucian, obedient, said nothing—he simply waited for instruction. “Thank you for everything, Clarissa. You’ve been a constant source of support all these years, and I hope you know how deeply you’re appreciated.”
“Lucian?” The struggle in Clarissa’s voice would have been comical had Marcus been in the right frame of mind. “What the hell is going on?”
Marcus had no answer for her. He distanced himself from the bar, Lucian a shadow who remained framed in his peripheral vision. For now, Marcus’ focus wasn’t on him—it was on those who looked on from their seats or who’d clustered in the stairs to get a look at the young omega and the accomplished alpha who guided him.
It was on Adrian, who sat scowling at them from one of the bar booths. He’d abandoned the older man he was with in order to watch, and Marcus was eager for him to take it all in.
Every last second of it.
“They’re looking at you, fledgling,” Marcus said, keeping the volume of his voice high enough that he could be heard over the music, but not so high that other ears would be able to listen in on their conversation. “Every man in this club is lusting after you tonight. Do you know how pleased that makes me?”
“Yes, Master,” Lucian responded dutifully. The first nuances of mind-clouding lust obscured what he said, leaving his words blurry around the edges. The sound of Lucian like that tightened in Marcus’ gut and stirred his arousal. “But I will only ever have eyes for you.”
Together they passed by open doors where others were already engaged. Marcus’ eyes did not wander—they were focused on a room at the end of the hall. The door was open only a sliver, but Marcus didn’t need to look in to know what waited inside. The barren, concrete floors. The drab walls. The metal frames bolted down and well-polished.
… And the chains hanging from them.
In years past, it had been Marcus’ preferred room, and he’d rented it from Stephanie frequently.
Tonight, for the last time, he’d see that room again.
The door swung open. Marcus led Lucian past several metal frames adorned with chains to one set up in the center of the room, then guided him to stand in the middle of it. The frame he chose was kept rigid by four metal posts, each of them bound to its adjacent post on the top and on the bottom by flat, metal bars. Overhead, two long strips of metal intersected. At their point of intersection hung a ring through which a chain had been suspended, smaller rings securing it to one of the metal beams and bringing it back to coil around a pulley system rigged to one of the posts. Other chains hung from the sides of the frame, but Marcus ignored them for now.
His focus was on the chain hanging over Lucian’s head.
“Lift your arms, fledgling,” Marcus instructed. Shadows shifted by the door, a sign that they had onlookers. Amongst them, Marcus could have sworn he caught the scent of a familiar, troublesome omega—Adrian. The thought only spurred Marcus on—no one would ever doubt his intention toward Lucian again after tonight. He wanted every one of them to see, but he wanted Adrian to see most of all.
No one would intimidate him.
No one would make him beg for what was his.
With docile grace, Lucian’s fingertips traced over his own stomach and along his chest, then up his neck and along his jaw. The flash of silver from the hoops of Marcus’ suspension cuffs glinted from behind Lucian’s palms. From his jaw, Lucian ran his fingers through his hair. When there was nowhere else to go, his fingertips met, and they wove and caressed as he lifted his arms until the hairless hollows of his armpits were stretched taut.
The small ways Lucian moved were su
btle, but calculated. As Marcus watched, he took it in for exactly what it was—a dance performed for Marcus’ benefit. But tonight, there was no ill intent behind it. What Lucian did, he did of his own volition.
Lucian embraced his exhibition.
The thought turned Marcus on like little else.
Lucian held his head high, neck stretched slightly to lend him further grace. His wrists remained braced above his head, marked by leather and steel. With no sense of urgency, Marcus twisted the handle of the pulley to lower the center chain. When it was low enough, he stepped forward and fed the reinforced clip at the end through the O rings attached to Lucian’s cuffs. The clip secured easily, and Marcus tightened it until he was confident it wouldn’t give. Lucian kept his hands up, arms outstretched.
Soon, he wouldn’t have the choice not to.
As Marcus drew away, he traced a hand from Lucian’s elevated shoulder down his chest. Lucian looked at him from beneath his lashes, his gaze clouded with the same lust once heavy in his voice. There was no fear in his eyes and no regret to stretch his lips thin. He wanted this, and if he changed his mind, all it would take would be a single word to end the game.
Marcus was ready, no matter Lucian’s choice.
Eyes locked with Lucian’s, Marcus stepped back until he’d arrived at the pulley. The air was thick with their chemistry, made thicker yet by the erotic display they performed for each other first, and for others second. It flooded Marcus’ lungs and coursed through his veins until he was full of it.
Full of Lucian, and everything they stood for as a couple.
Marcus set his hand on the pulley’s handle. Eyes locked with his submissive’s, heart hammering in anticipation of what was to come, Marcus turned the crank. The chains rattled as they were pulled backward. The slack allowing Lucian his agency disappeared.
Marcus turned the crank again. This time, he was met by resistance. Lucian groaned as his arms were stretched beyond the point of comfort, and Marcus watched as he shuffled his feet and stood on his toes to try to minimize the sensation.
So Marcus cranked again.
The chains clicked against each other, but the sound was overshadowed by the noise that left Lucian’s lips. It wasn’t quite a gasp, but it wasn’t a groan, either. The high notes of it suggested pain, but the refined, baritone bass notes betrayed it for what it was.
A moan.
Lucian’s arms and the tips of his toes supported the weight of his body. His torso was elongated by necessity, spine straight. Lucian’s skin stretched thin over his muscles, leaving nothing to the imagination. He’d always been gorgeous, but in that moment, Marcus saw his true potential. Pecs stretched upward by his arms gave way to the humble hills of Lucian’s abdominal muscles. The muscles in his thighs looked powerful as he struggled to support himself through the suspension. But despite it, Lucian’s almond-colored nipples were hard, and his cock strained against the front of his pants insistently.
Anyone looking in from the doorway would be able to see it, and Marcus wanted them to watch.
He would never hide such a vital part of his life again.
Marcus drove a bar suspended from the frame into the pulley, locking it in place. The chain would not give. For as long as Marcus wanted, Lucian would stand at attention for him—and until they saw, until word had spread and no one would mistake what Lucian meant to him, he would not relent.
The night was still young. The room was theirs for as long as they wanted it, and then would never be theirs again. It was a goodbye, but one they were both prepared for.
It was time to play.
30
Lucian
The chain tugged at the cuffs on Lucian’s wrists, and in turn, the leather pushed into the underside of Lucian’s thumbs and rubbed him raw. Lucian balanced on the balls of his feet, his hands struggling to grip the rings that bound him to the chain. If he could only lift himself up, he wouldn’t have to worry about how the chain stretched him—but the moment Marcus stepped into his field of vision, Lucian knew that getting a grip on anything wasn’t going to be within the realm of possibility for much longer.
Both of Marcus’ hands trailed up Lucian’s sides, his touch electric. Lucian shivered against it, and as he did, the chains clinked. Suspended as he was, even the smallest movements were enough to make noise.
Lucian had a feeling that the room wasn’t going to be quiet for much longer.
“Look at you,” Marcus murmured. His hands traveled upward, over Lucian’s chest to brush his hardened nipples. There was nothing Lucian could do to stop him. “You were born to look like this, weren’t you? Put on this earth to be strung up for my pleasure, your body on display like the piece of art it is.”
Marcus’ fingers pinched suddenly, and Lucian cried out in shock rather than pain. The chains rattled, and he lost his footing and found himself stumbling. The erratic movement put more pressure on his wrists, and the strain caused the muscles on the insides of his arms to burn.
It was torture, but it was torture that made Lucian’s cock throb.
Nothing so uncomfortable should have felt so good.
“Shh. Be easy.” Marcus set both hands on Lucian’s hips, and the balls of Lucian’s feet found balance. It wasn’t until he was still that he realized how quickly he drew breath, each gasp short and shallow, panicked. It wasn’t distress over the scene, but an instinctual impulse to the conditions he was subjected to. Marcus’ hands provided support, and Lucian drew a deep breath to try to ground himself.
“I want them to see how beautiful you are,” Marcus told him. His hands trailed upward until his thumbs trailed over Lucian’s nipples again. “And how well-behaved you are. We want them to remember, don’t we?”
“Yes,” Lucian breathed. He closed his eyes and let his head hang forward. He wanted them to know he belonged to Marcus as much as he wanted Adrian to know that he held no power over them anymore. “Yes, we do.”
It hadn’t been an easy decision to cut ties to The Shepherd, but leaving his position at the bar had been made easier by Marcus’ promise that he wouldn’t be leaving alone.
Tonight was their swan song, and Lucian intended to give it all he had.
Marcus slid his hands over Lucian’s collarbone, and as he did, Lucian lifted his head. Passage granted, Marcus’ hands slid farther upward. They traced the sides of Lucian’s neck until Marcus’ fingers curled around the back of Lucian’s head and his thumbs hooked under the ridge of Lucian’s jaw. The position prevented Lucian from looking down, and his eyes met Marcus’ with sudden intensity.
“Endure for me,” Marcus commanded. “Let them see what extent you’re willing to go to for the pleasure I provide.”
Lucian’s lips parted to choke out a noise building in his chest, but it emerged mute. Unable to look away, he stared into the pools of Marcus’ dark eyes and found himself drawn in. Inescapable currents of emotion weighed him down, and Lucian was helpless but to give in.
He drowned in Marcus.
Marcus directed Lucian’s head forward, and just as Lucian was about to lose balance, Marcus kissed him fervently. The kiss tore through the waters of Lucian’s soul, turning them turbulent with desire. He kissed Marcus back just as eagerly. It was only when their teeth clacked and their lips were sore that Marcus pulled away, leaving Lucian gasping for breath that never made it to his lungs.
There were people in the room. Lucian saw their shapes and heard their quiet conversation, but try as he might, he couldn’t bring his eyes to focus on anything that wasn’t Marcus. Other details were insignificant.
Everything that Lucian wanted was right in front of him.
Marcus’ hands dropped from Lucian’s jaw, and Lucian mourned their absence. The chains rattled as he pushed forward, desperate for contact, but Marcus took a step back. His commanding voice echoed through the room. “No. Stay.”
Lucian fell still, tightening his core to try to correct the way he swayed. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he was sure it had started to
gleam on his body as well. Maintaining a position like this was hard work.
“It’s time to unveil you to the world,” Marcus said. The sound of his voice traveled over the taut skin of Lucian’s shoulders to invade his ear, and Lucian shivered. As metal clinked overhead, Marcus’ hand found the bulge straining against the front of Lucian’s pants. “Time to show them what surprises you’re hiding under your leather.”
The button of Lucian’s pants gave to Marcus’ thumb. The zipper beneath fell. Marcus guided the pants down Lucian’s legs to reveal the panties that caged Lucian’s cock to his torso.
Lace, white.
With his last substantial layer of clothing stripped away, Marcus lifted his gaze to look Lucian in the eye.
“Fledgling?” Marcus asked. He rose from where he knelt, sliding his hand along the front of Lucian’s panties to tease his length. “We’re not done yet. Are you ready for more?”
“Yes, Master,” Lucian uttered. The strain on his arms was almost unbearable, but he pushed through for Marcus. “I’m ready for more.”
“Then let’s begin,” Marcus whispered. He kissed Lucian’s lips one last time, and Lucian met the kiss with enthusiasm. There were no more regrets—Marcus shouldered them on his behalf.
Strung up in chains, Lucian had never felt so free.
31
Marcus
Warm-up was over. The glazed look in Lucian’s eyes and the flush in his cheeks told Marcus everything he needed to know—Lucian was well on his way to subspace, and even if that transition wasn’t fully accomplished, it would be soon enough.
It was time to drive Lucian higher.
From the inside of his suit jacket, once stored next to the envelope destined for Clarissa, Marcus withdrew a thin cloth hood. He stepped behind Lucian and wrapped his arms around the omega, pulling him close. When he spoke, he did so against the back of Lucian’s head. “I want them to see you, but I don’t want you to see them. I don’t want your ego inflated. Seeing them stare at you, lust for you, covet you… I won’t have you forget who you belong to, who protects you, and who keeps you safe no matter what.”
