The contraption was rather large. Probably four feet in length, but sturdy on the six-foot table.
“Over here,” I instructed the cowboy. “Do you know what this is?”
“No, Zeke. I haven’t got a clue.”
“It’s a stockade.” I motioned toward the front. “These two circles will restrain your wrists. This one your head.” I patted the middle pad. “Your chest rests here since you’ll be on your elbows and knees. Your ankles will be secured here and then this”—I pulled a thick black dildo out of the protective bag—“will attach to this part, converting it into a machine that’s going to fuck your ass for as long as I want it to.”
His eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything. I knew what he was thinking. He was trying to determine if that dildo would actually fit in his ass. If my cock fit, this certainly would. But it wouldn’t necessarily be comfortable.
“Get on up here.”
The cowboy stepped closer and I gave him a hand when he crawled up on the table. It only took a couple of minutes to get him in position, then I went to work fixing everything around him so he was safely restrained.
“There’s nowhere for you to go from this point,” I told him once all the shackles were in place. “Which will help once this thing gets going.”
I lubed the dildo and secured it on the rod, then lined it up with the cowboy’s ass. He jerked when the cool gel lubed his asshole.
“Are you excited?” I asked, keeping my tone snide. “Because I am. I figure this’ll do nicely as an attitude adjustment.”
“Attitude adjustment?” he sounded skeptical.
“It appears we’ve got a problem,” I told him. “You clearly have something on your mind. Since I don’t tolerate bratty, sulking fuck toys, I’m gonna take care of that.”
Once the dildo was where it was supposed to be, I grabbed the remote and hit the button. It was on its lowest setting, which was just enough to have the dildo inching forward ever so slowly, working its way into his ass.
The cowboy grunted as it breached the tight ring of muscles. Satisfied with the setup, I walked back around to stand in front of him. Since he was on the table, he was high enough to look me in the face without having to strain his neck too much.
“Now tell me, cowboy. What’s the problem?”
He gritted his teeth as the toy fucked its way into him. “No problem, Zeke.”
I stepped forward and grabbed his jaw, getting right up in his face. My patience was on the verge of snapping and his dishonesty had it hanging precariously in the balance.
I squeezed his jaw. “If you think this is punishment, you don’t have a fucking clue who I am. Lie to me one more time and I swear to you I’ll break you so fast you won’t have a chance to think of a safe word, much less utter it. Understand?”
His eyes locked with mine, daggers shooting out of them. He was seething when he responded with, “Yes, Zeke.”
Taking a deep breath, I released him and stepped back. The machine was doing its job, pulling out and pushing in. It was a steady rhythm that would have him wanting more but only I had the power to give that to him.
“You’ve been pouting for two days. What’s the problem?”
His expression gave him away. He was pissed. Whatever had happened had angered him and he’d been walking around with it bottled up inside.
“I heard you and Case,” he said, his words clipped as the dildo pushed into him.
“Heard us?”
“Yes. The other morning. In your bedroom. You were fucking him.”
I’d fucked the pretty boy plenty of times, but only once in my bedroom. “And…?”
“You asked him who owned him. He said you did.”
“And you have a problem with that because…?”
His lips formed a hard line but he didn’t look away. “It bothered me that he said it.”
“Feeling left out?” I taunted, smiling ferociously.
“Yes, Zeke.” He grunted when the dildo penetrated him again.
I stepped closer, staring right into his eyes. “What is it you want from me, cowboy?”
“Everything, Zeke.”
I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that.
“Everything?”
He tried to nod but the metal ring around his neck made it impossible. “Yes, Zeke.”
“Define everything.” This was what I needed to know.
While I had the pretty boy pegged, I hadn’t quite figured out what fed the cowboy’s true desires. He claimed to be a masochist, and in many ways, I saw the signs. He didn’t mind having his ass spanked and the rough sex made his eyes glaze over. However, he wasn’t into pain the way the pretty boy was. He took it when it was delivered, but the humiliation seemed to be what got him off. I wanted to hear him admit it.
“I get the feeling you don’t have a clue what you need.” I kept my tone cool, aloof.
“Not true.” The dildo pushed in again and he breathed through it.
“Is your dick hard?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
“Do you get off having a machine fucking your ass?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
And there it was. The truth was in his eyes. He needed the humiliation.
I stepped in closer and curled my hand around his jaw. This time I didn’t squeeze, merely kept his attention where it belonged. On me.
“That can be arranged. Would you like me to set this up so you can spend your evenings bent over with this toy drilling into your asshole? You can sit there and take it while I fuck your boyfriend. I can own him like the bitch he is, and you can take all the pleasure from a machine.”
“No, Zeke.”
“What? You’re jealous that I’m fucking your boyfriend? Is that it? You don’t like the idea that he gets off on it? Do you think I give him more attention than I give you?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
I let that sink in. I considered all the times we’d played for the past few days. It was possible I’d given the pretty boy more attention. It certainly wasn’t intentional, but part of me knew the pretty boy could handle anything I gave him. I had to rein myself in with the cowboy.
“He needs me,” I told him. “He needs what only I can give him. That’s why you’re here, right? So I can give you both what you can’t give each other?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
“Do you think he wants me more than he wants you?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
I took a small step back because the conviction in his tone caught me off guard. The cowboy was serious and that was the problem.
He honestly believed the pretty boy wanted me more than he wanted him.
*
Case
(The pretty boy)
AFTER SPENDING THE BETTER PART of the morning with Trent, I had finally finished up and hurried back to Zeke’s so I could be with Brax when the movers arrived. He had mentioned wanting to get a few things—clothes, cologne, personal shit we’d packed rather than carried with us—before we locked it all up.
When I walked into the house, I noticed Tank on the sofa. He lifted his head enough to acknowledge me but he didn’t move. Clearly I wasn’t a threat.
There on the kitchen table was Zeke’s laptop, but he was nowhere in sight. Since Zeke’s truck was out front, I knew he was still here. And since I had taken Brax’s car, he would’ve had no way to leave, so I assumed he was around, also.
“Where’d they go, boy?” I asked Tank, knowing he wouldn’t respond.
I paused by the stairs to listen for noises coming from upstairs or down. I heard a muffled grunt, so I moved over to the basement stairs. When it sounded again, I knew I’d found them.
I started down the stairs and the sounds grew louder. Voices could be heard along with a strange whirring sound. I took one step at a time, moving slower, smiling at the idea of watching them scene together. I did enjoy watching Zeke torment him. Especially those times when he forced Brax to come on command.
Of course, last night had be
en weird. Like a battle of wits between Brax and Zeke, and I’d been caught in the middle. Not that I’d necessarily minded, but it had been rather awkward for Brax to be forced to watch Zeke fuck me.
I stopped on the stairs when Zeke’s voice echoed from below.
“What? You’re jealous that I’m fucking your boyfriend? Is that it? You don’t like the idea that he gets off on it? Do you think I give him more attention than I give you?”
“Yes, Zeke,” Brax replied.
“He needs me,” Zeke stated. “He needs what only I can give him. That’s why you’re here, right? So I can give you both what you can’t give each other?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
“Do you think he wants me more than he wants you?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
My legs turned rubbery beneath me when I heard the torment in Brax’s voice. He was serious. Zeke might’ve been taunting him, but Brax was speaking the truth. He wasn’t playing a role, he wasn’t trying to push Zeke to give him what he needed. Brax honestly believed that I wanted Zeke more than him.
How could that be possible?
How could he doubt my love for him?
For the past three nights, I had curled up to sleep with Brax in my arms. I hadn’t cared about the fucking torture device on my dick or the fact that we were being treated like animals, forced to sleep in a cage beneath Zeke’s bed. I would take that any day over having to sleep separately from Brax.
And he thought I wanted Zeke more?
“What do you think he’d say right now if he came home to find you hooked up to that machine? That dildo penetrating your ass? Do you think he’d be jealous?”
“No, Zeke.”
“Do you want him to be jealous, cowboy? Do you want the pretty boy to see you like this, to know you willingly crawled up on that table like a dog, let me strap you down so I could impale you with a fucking machine?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
There was a long pause and I couldn’t stay still any longer. I continued down the steps until I was in the basement with them. There was Brax, shackled to a table while a dildo hooked to a rod fucked into his ass. Zeke stood in front of him, far enough away that they could continue to make eye contact.
“What do you think would make him jealous, cowboy? What would make him hurt the way you’re hurting?”
“I don’t know, Zeke.”
“Do you want him to hurt?”
“Yes. No!” Brax moaned. “No. I don’t wanna hurt him.”
“But you do. That’s why you’ve been pouting. Because he’s giving me what you want him to give you. Yet you’re still here. Shackled in my basement while that machine drills your ass. Now tell me, what would make him hurt the way you’re hurting?”
“I don’t know!” Brax yelled.
“I do,” I said, making my presence known.
To my shock, Zeke didn’t move. He didn’t look over at me.
I stepped closer until I could see Brax’s face. His eyes shot to me and I could see everything he was thinking. Anger, confusion, doubt. It was all there. My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Tell me, cowboy. What will make him jealous?”
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”
“He said he knows,” Zeke stated firmly. “Now I want to hear you say it.”
“Nothing,” Brax ground out. “Nothing will make him jealous. He needs us both equally.”
“You think that’s it?” Zeke taunted.
“Yes, Zeke.”
“You think he needs me to hurt him as much as he needs the cuddling and kisses you shower him with?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
Zeke’s head turned and those black eyes pinned me in place. Something dark lurked there and I suddenly felt a chill in the air. I’d never seen him like that. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see him like that again.
His attention shifted back to Brax and he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. When Zeke’s lips brushed Brax’s, I swallowed so hard I wondered if my heart had shot up into my mouth and then back down.
That … that wasn’t part of the deal, was it? Zeke hadn’t kissed either one of us up to this point. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t thought about that before.
Zeke’s head tilted and he deepened the kiss. I could see the way their tongues slid together. It was erotic and dangerous for my sanity. My heart lurched, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I was drawn to the way their mouths moved together in such an intimate way.
“I think that worked,” Zeke said, drawing me out of my stupor. “Look at him, cowboy. He doesn’t know what to think about that. He’s the only one who’s supposed to be kissing you. Not me. Not the big, bad wolf. I’m only allowed to use your body, to fuck your ass and your throat. To shove my dick inside you. Kissing’s too intimate; it means more than anything else.”
Zeke stood tall and stared into Brax’s eyes. He was practically vibrating with barely restrained rage.
“And that’s all bullshit, cowboy!” he snapped. “Kissing means nothing. It’s merely fuel for the fire, but it does seem to get your boyfriend amped up. He doesn’t like me kissing you. Now tell me, do you want that fake dick to move faster?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
“Beg for it.”
Brax’s lips clamped shut and I held my breath, waiting.
“If you don’t beg, I’ll stop the machine while that toy’s lodged in your ass. You want that? To be stuck there impaled on that fake dick?”
Again, Brax didn’t respond, his eyes narrowed, his anger apparent.
“Beg me, fuck toy!” Zeke commanded, his voice deeper than before. “Fucking beg.”
When the toy inched forward again, Brax moaned, the strain on his face lessening.
“Please,” he groaned.
“Not enough, fuck toy. I said beg!”
“Shit!” Brax cried out, his body jerking within the restraints. “Please, Zeke. Fuck! I need more.”
“Tell me,” Zeke barked.
“Oh, fuck…” Brax moaned. “More. Please. More.”
“You want that fake dick to drill you harder?’
“Yes. Please.”
“Faster?” Zeke asked.
“Yes. Please, Zeke. Give me more.”
Christ. Just hearing Brax’s tortured pleas drove me damn near insane. Almost as much as watching Zeke kiss him, acting as though it didn’t mean anything. It meant a hell of a lot more for me, that was for sure. I could get lost in Brax’s kiss for hours. In fact, we’d done that before. Making out like teenagers on the couch on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Kissing, groping, fondling. I’d almost say I enjoyed those moments more than any other.
“Harder!” Brax cried out. “I need more.”
Zeke moved around to the machine. He picked up the lube and squirted it on the toy, coating it liberally as it retreated from Brax’s ass. When he stepped back, the machine sped up, pushing into Brax and retreating over and over. He was impaled on that damn thing, unable to move from the restraints. His hands were balled into fists, his teeth grinding together as he moaned and groaned, begging Zeke to give him more.
I watched in awe, loving the way Brax gave himself over to it, hating that I needed this.
Suddenly the machine slowed and Brax groaned.
“Tell me, cowboy. Tell me you won’t let your petty jealousy fuck this up. Tell me you understand I’m not here as your lover or his. I’m using you both. Taking what I want when I want it. How I want it. It means nothing to me. When it’s over, you and the pretty boy can go back to playing house all day long. I have no interest in that. Tell me you understand that.”
“I understand, Zeke. I’m your fuck toy. That’s all.”
The machine picked up speed again, this time drilling into Brax again and again.
“May I come, Zeke?” He growled low in his throat. “Please let me come.”
“Yes.”
A few seconds later, a few more solid thrusts from that machine and Brax was crying out as his cock jerked
. He came on a low growl, his eyes rolling back in his head.
I stood there motionless, my breaths coming in almost as rapidly as Brax’s.
Zeke turned to face me, his eyes cold, his expression masked.
“He’s your responsibility,” he bit out before heading to the stairs. He tossed a key my way. “Get him off that thing and the two of you can go meet the movers.”
He didn’t wait for a response before he jogged up the stairs.
Out of sight, out of mind.
At least for him.
NINETEEN
ZEKE
Friday, October 19
“THIS IS A FIRST,” JAMIE said when I walked into the diner that morning. She was already sitting at our favorite table, sipping apple juice. “I was surprised to get the text last night.”
In an effort to avoid her feeling the stress that was a living, breathing thing inside my house, I had shot Jamie a text last night letting her know I had an early meeting and that I would meet her at the diner. While I could’ve forgone breakfast altogether, I hadn’t wanted to miss the opportunity to spend time with her. There were too many excuses one could come up with not to spend time with those they loved. I wasn’t about to make up one at this point.
“Sorry,” I said as I took a seat across from her. “Busy at work. Got a day full of interviews.”
Jamie stared back at me and it was obvious she didn’t buy my bullshit.
“Or you didn’t want me to have a chance to talk to your toys,” she stated, her tone curious but not quite questioning.
I kept my expression masked. The last thing I wanted was for Jamie to worry about me. She might’ve been my kid sister, but I knew she worried about me as much as I worried about her. And after the debacle with my ex four years ago, she was always touchy when she thought I might be getting close to someone.
Not that I had. Not before the fuck toys and not now.
“So, how’s school?” I asked after the waitress had delivered my coffee and confirmed my order.
“Good.”
Of course it was.
“I have a question for you,” she finally stated after a few minutes of strained silence.
“What’s that?”
“Have you ever wondered why someone would need the pain you dish out?”
Their Ruthless Sadist (Office Intrigue, 5) Page 20
