Lane

The dim, yellow lights of the hotel bar are calming and soothing after the long ass day I’ve had. As is the glass of scotch I’ve been nursing for the past fifteen minutes while reading through some of the articles I was given today. After spending the past few years with Harrison, it’s become my drink of choice.

I’m in Portland for a neuroscience conference. I got in yesterday, and I’ve been attending seminars all fucking day today. Many of the other attendees have drifted into the bar from the conference center inside the hotel, and it’s a little noisy with chatter. Sitting at the bar with a stack of papers in front of me, my tie loosened around my neck, is enough to signal that I’m only here for a drink and to unwind a bit before heading to my room.

As I turn the page of the current article I’m reading through, I pick up my glass and take a sip. It’s then that I feel eyes on me.

When I lift my gaze to scan the room, I spot a man sitting at the opposite end of the bar, his eyes pinned right on me. A shiver crawls up my spine like a spider made of ice.

The stranger is…well, breathtakingly gorgeous.

I’ve never strayed from Harrison, but I can still appreciate the sight of a stunning human.

And that’s exactly what this man is. Sharp jaw beneath a short, finely trimmed beard. Intense eyes. He’s a hell of a lot more put together than I am. While my clothes are a little wrinkled from the day, my tie loose and askew, my hair falling over my forehead, he looks impeccable. Not a crease in his suit. His tie perfectly arranged. His hair neatly styled, not a strand out of place.

The way he’s looking at me reminds me of the first time I ever set eyes on Harrison. The way he held me trapped with his gaze alone. Predator versus prey.

When the corner of his mouth tilts up, I realize I’ve been staring and quickly avert my eyes back to the papers in front of me.

However, it’s too late.

The stool beside mine screeches quietly against the hardwood floor, and I can feel the man’s body heat as he sits down, a drink of his own in his hand.

“Good evening.” His words are a deep purr dripping with honey.

I glance up and give him a tight smile, hoping to convey I’m not looking for company. “Hi.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, nodding at my nearly empty glass.

“Oh.” Already anticipating the way I’m about to stumble over my words, my cheeks heat. “This is the only one I was planning on having. Thank you, though.”

“All right then,” he says, not sounding put off at all. “Looks like you’re almost finished. Going up to a room after?”

Well, that’s not subtle at all.

“I’m very flattered,” I tell him, doing my best to keep my voice steady and stop the heat from spreading to the rest of my body. I lift my hand, the black steel band like a ring of fire around my finger. “But I’m married.”

“I’m not asking for a date.” He smirks and tilts his head to the side. “I can be gone before you turn back into a pumpkin.”

I clear my throat to keep from choking on air. “I’m happily married.”

“Too bad for me then.” Despite the rejection, that smirk remains right where it is.

The stranger raises his glass to his lips and tips it back. My eyes can’t help but linger on the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with a swallow as he finishes off his drink. He catches me looking as he sets his empty glass back on the bar, and his wicked grin grows.

He stands and leans into my space until I can feel his warm breath on the side of my face. “Have a good night, Dr. Hart.”

Another shiver passes over me.

How did he…

As he walks off, my eyes catch on my name tag hanging from its lanyard, resting face-up beside the open folder of scientific articles on the bar top.

Careless.

Then again, I wasn’t exactly expecting to attract attention. Besides, most of the people in here are from the conference.

Even though some of the tension in my shoulders has eased, I think I’m ready to call it a night. There’s no way I can concentrate on reading now, not with my body still kind of tingling from the encounter with that mysterious stranger.

Tucking the papers back inside the folder, I close it up before downing the last little bit of my drink. As I leave the bar and make my way through the hotel, my body’s still thrumming. I’ve never had a one-night stand, nor wanted one. However, my mind is swimming with images of me and that man together in my hotel room. Writhing around naked on the bed. Hot. Sweaty. And then watching him walk out to never see him again.

I didn’t even get his name.

Once the elevator doors shut with just me inside, I groan and run my hand down my face.

If only Harrison could see me now. Flustered with just the idea of one steamy, anonymous night.

Considering my darker side when it comes to my kinks, I’m well aware that having fantasies is normal and healthy. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel a little ashamed at having them about a stranger.

Before the doors open, I adjust myself in my suit pants. Stepping out of the elevator, I walk down the hallway while pulling my key card out of the inside pocket of my suit jacket.

I reach the door of my room, but before I can lift my card to the scanner, there’s a looming presence behind me, pressing up against my back. Something else presses at my back. Hard and round, right at the base of my spine, causing goosebumps to break out over the nape of my neck despite the warm breath caressing my skin there too.

“Make a sound, and you’ll get a bullet in your spine.”

The voice is familiar. Though deeper and rougher.

The man from the bar.

My breathing picks up along with my heart rate. Sweat beads at my temples. I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a gasp. I quickly close it, not wanting to make another noise.

“Open the door.”

My heart is in my fucking throat. My blood is drumming a beat in my ears. My mind is clouded with fear and images of what would happen if I open the door.

I’d be trapped.

No escape.

At this man’s mercy.

Except…

That’s exactly what I want.

He presses closer, his lips at my ear, and I get a whiff of his scent. Oak. Vanilla.

“Now, if you please, Dr. Hart.”

Harrison’s low, threatening voice sweeps over the shell of my ear, and my cock twitches.

My hand shakes as I raise it to scan my key card to the lock.

I know the gun at my back is real, but I also know it’s not loaded. However, I’m not exactly sure what Harrison’s plan was to get away with it with there being cameras in the hallway. It feels as though he may have it tucked inside his suit jacket. Then again, I wouldn’t put it past him to have warned or paid off whatever security guard is on duty, what with how shameless he is. Or maybe he got Cason to tamper with the cameras. However, Case has had a lot of his own shit going on lately, so maybe not that.

The lock disengages, but I don’t move.

“I know you’re not stupid,” Harrison whispers behind me. “Open it.”

I do, tugging the handle down and pushing. The door swings inward, and Harrison shoves me into the room. I stumble forward, the folder of articles tumbling from my weak grip and falling to the floor. As soon as I right myself, I turn around to face him. The door clicks shut with finality as he closes it and casually leans his back against it, his gun in his hand and aimed at me.

The room is a standard hotel room with one king-size bed, a lamp on the desk casting a dim glow over the hard, scary lines of Harrison’s face.

Fuck, I love how terrifying he is.

And then how soft he is later.

Harrison and I drove down here to Portland yesterday and slept in this room together last night.

Tonight, he’s a stranger.

When he first brought up the idea of playing out this fantasy, I’ll admit my cock got rock fucking hard. While I truly never had any urges for one-night stands or hooking up with strangers, his suggestion got me reevaluating the appeal. Especially when he added in our favorite element of him forcing me.

We went to the conference together today, but we were in separate seminars for the most part. Every time we’d pass by each other or end up in the same room, he kept his distance and only ever made contact with his eyes. Eyes all over me.

“What do you want?” I ask, not the least bit surprised to hear my voice come out unsteady.

Again, his eyes are all over me, raking up and down my body. Then his gaze meets mine, and he’s not smirking this time like he was in the bar.

“I don’t appreciate rejection, Dr. Hart.”

“Clearly,” I spit at him, even as the fear he’s so skilled at instilling constricts around my chest like a snake. “I told you I’m married.”

He cocks his head to the side. “You think I give a fuck? What kind of man allows his husband to travel all by himself where just anyone can get him alone and have their way with him?”

I swallow hard because…fuck, that sounds amazing.

“Please,” I whisper as my chest heaves with anticipation. “Don’t do this.”

“Oh, I’m going to do a hell of a lot,” he promises as a grin slowly creeps back to his lips. “Now strip.”

I hesitate. Because, of course, that’s what I would do if he was really a stranger in my room.

“We could do this the easy way or the hard way. The choice is yours.”

The hard way.

Always the hard way.

I love fighting him. I love the fear and adrenaline and pain.

However, considering he’s supposed to be a stranger with a gun right now, I guess, realistically, I’d cooperate until I saw an opportunity to fight him.

My hands are still trembling as I reach up to loosen my tie more in order to pull it up over my head, letting the scrap of fabric fall to the floor. As I shrug out of my suit jacket, I toe off my shoes, keeping my gaze pinned straight ahead on Harrison.

“Why are you doing this?”

Once again, his eyes travel over me, darkening with lust. “Because you’re just so sinfully beautiful.”

“You think you can just take whatever you want?” I ask as I start unbuttoning my shirt.

His grin turns into a predatory smirk. “Of course I can.”

Of course he can.

And, in the end, I’ll always give it to him.

By the time I’m standing there in only my black boxer briefs, my skin is tingling with anticipation and the desire for Harrison’s touch. He’s still aiming the gun at me. Even though it’s not loaded, the sight of it is enough to keep that spark of fear alive. He was very hesitant to do any kind of gun play given the fact I’m literally living with a bullet inside of me, but even when I’m afraid, I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with Harrison.

“All of it,” he says, nodding down at my underwear.

“Please.” It comes out as a whisper because it’s all I can manage through the thrill and the eagerness. “I don’t want this.”

I say the words even as I can feel the front of my underwear damp with precum.

Harrison pushes off the door and crosses the distance between us. My heart speeds up as he grabs a handful of my hair while shoving the barrel of the gun beneath my chin, tilting my head back with both and causing me to whimper.

“So you’re choosing the hard way then?” he growls with his lips an inch from me.

Fuck if I don’t want to thrust my hips forward and rut against him like a goddamn animal.

Instead, I glare at him, my jaw set even while the rest of my body trembles. “Fuck you.”

A low hum rumbles through him. “I love the hard way.”

He lowers the gun and tosses it onto the bed. The moment it’s out of his hand, I move, hitting and slapping every inch of him I can reach. When he grabs onto my arms, I kick him in the shin. He grunts but doesn’t loosen his hold as he takes both of my wrists in one hand.

Then a sudden, sharp pain explodes across the side of my face. Tears spring to my eyes as the realization that he just slapped me fucking hard hits me.

I’m too shocked to stop him from shoving me down, my knees hitting the carpeted floor. His hand moves back to my hair, gripping it tight to force my head back as he leans down. I stare up at him, but his face is a blur through the tears.

“Well,” he says, and I can hear the smirk in his voice better than I can see it. “It looks like you love the hard way too.”

It’s only then that I realize I’m touching myself, palming my hard cock through my boxer briefs.

Everything’s a little fuzzy. My face stings, but the pain only heightens the pleasure from touching myself and the anticipation of whatever Harrison plans to do next.

I’m already so fucking desperate to come despite knowing he’s only getting started.

Taking advantage of my stunned state, Harrison lets go of me to undo his belt and the front of his dress pants. When I see that he’s not wearing any underwear, I have to stop myself from moaning. When I see the drop of precum glistening at the slit of his hard dick, I have to resist the urge to lean forward and lick it up.

“Who knew Dr. Lane Hart would be such a slut for pain?” Harrison grips my hair again as he brings the head of his cock to my lips, smearing his precum across them like he knew that’s exactly what I wanted. “What would your husband think of you now?”

I whimper, momentarily fearful of exactly that. Like I’ve forgotten that this is literally my husband I’m on my knees for.

He’s playing his role of the terrifying stranger all too well.

“Please,” I whisper, attempting to blink through the tears as I peer up at him. “Don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, you’ve already proven that’s exactly what you want.”

It sounds like a promise, and, of course, he’s right. Even if I have to pretend he’s not.

With one harsh tug on my hair, my mouth opens on a gasp, and Harrison shoves his cock into my mouth. When it hits the back of my throat, my eyes water even more, and my dick jerks beneath my hand where I’m still rubbing myself.

“Don’t even think about using teeth,” he growls as he grips my head with both hands.

Then he lets loose, fucking into my mouth with abandon. I’m forced to move my hand off my own cock to grab onto his thighs, holding on for dear life.

“Fuck,” he groans. “If your mouth feels this good, I can’t wait to sink into your sexy ass.”

I moan, and it must trigger something in him because his thrusts turn even more brutal. Vicious. My lips are stretched full, drool dripping down my chin. His grip on my hair is tight, equally as merciless as the savage way he fucks my mouth. I blink away tears, but every time he hits the back of my throat, more come streaming down my cheeks.

When he finally pulls out, I gasp, coughing on nothing but air as I cling to the fabric around his thighs. I’m forced to release him as he hauls me back to my feet by my hair.

And then I go back to fighting him with all I have.

I kick at him. Slap at him. Struggle against every attempt he makes to grab at me. My nails scrape along the side of his neck, raking against his skin. He manages to catch my wrists, pulling them both behind my back until my chest crashes against his. I’m left panting as his cold glare freezes me in place.

“I’m going to have to cover that tomorrow, aren’t I?”

I peer down at his neck and barely hold back a wince when I see the angry red lines drawn across the side of his throat. Tiny beads of blood dot the surface.

“Hope you brought a scarf,” I tell him with a victorious grin.

It’s wiped away the moment his eyes darken.

He leans forward until his mouth is a hair’s breadth from mine. “Hope you love to bleed.”

Now I’ve done it.

He spins me around, and I pick up my struggling once more as he shoves me face-down onto the bed, my ass at the edge of the mattress as he settles between my legs, making it impossible for me to kick him. He still has a grasp around both my wrists with one hand. I try to yank out of his hold, but the next thing I know, something is being wrapped around my wrists. I’m pretty sure it’s a tie.

“Fuck you!” I scream at him. “Let me the fuck go!”

Once my hands are tied tightly together, he flips me easily onto my back, narrowly avoiding a kick to his gut. He holds down one of my thighs as he reaches over to grab the gun.

The moment he has it aimed at me, I freeze.

Staring up at Harrison has that delicious fear coasting through my veins again, simultaneously lighting me on fire while sending chills tingling across my skin. He’s panting above me, both hands on his gun that’s aimed at my head. His eyes are wide and dark. A few strands of his black hair have fallen out of its style and hang over his forehead. His hard cock is still out, slick and shiny with precum and my saliva.

It’s when he looks completely undone and unhinged like this that I’m positive my dick can’t get any harder.

“You’re going to be a good little fuck toy now if you want to make it back to your husband in one piece,” he growls, his voice deeper and scarier than ever. “Understand?”

I whimper and nod shakily, blinking as more tears fall from the corners of my eyes and roll down my temples. I don’t know if it’s because of his words or the ache I still feel in my face from his slap, in my throat from the brutal way he fucked my mouth, in my arms from being tied up and crushed beneath my back.

Or maybe it’s because of how fucking terrifying Harrison is right now.

Even still, I wouldn’t change a damn thing.

He arches a brow, his eyes growing even more manic. “Say it.”

I squirm as a sob catches in my throat. “I’ll be a good little fuck toy. I swear.”

Some of the tension from our fight seems to bleed out of him. He hums, satisfied, as he lowers the gun and brushes the cold, hard steel along the side of my face. “You should know something, Dr. Hart,” he purrs as he brings the gun up to his face and runs his tongue along the barrel, tasting my tears. “I love it when pretty boys cry.”

I groan at the sick, twisted sight of him.

I know he loves to make me cry. And I kind of love it too. There’s a freedom, a sense of weightlessness, in just letting everything go. In feeling it all so intensely, feeling utterly safe to let go with Harrison.

He lowers the gun again, once again letting the side of the barrel caress my cheek, down my neck. His gaze follows its path as he drags it down my chest, leaving me trembling beneath its cool touch.

“You sure do have a lot of scars for a neuroscientist,” he muses as he circles the barrel of the gun over some of those scars. Most of which he gave me himself, but I don’t say that. “If I’m not mistaken, this one’s from a gunshot wound.”

It feels as though he’s testing me. I’m pretty sure he was more concerned about playing around with a gun than I was, and I don’t blame him considering there was once a time when I almost didn’t come back to him in one piece. However, there was a reason I asked for this more than just for upping the thrill of how we play together, which we’re clearly both enjoying the fuck out of.

It’s even more obvious when he moves the gun lower, rubbing the barrel over my achingly hard cock through my boxer briefs.

“And, yet, look how fucking hard you are.”

I can’t stop the loud moan that escapes me. I’m even more powerless to stop my hips from thrusting up in search of friction. Again and again.

Harrison’s low chuckle only spurs me on until I’m fucking humping his gun.

“Just what kind of sick fuck are you, baby?”

It’s what we both are.

What we’ve always been.

Harrison

A few months ago.

It was a late evening at the lab, and I’m getting home at nearly eight o’clock at night. I almost never work this late anymore, but Julie has needed some help this past week with an important project she’s been overseeing. Marissa and Lane have both been understanding but only because we don’t make a habit of it.

When I enter the condo, all the lights are off except for the waterfall fixtures hanging above the dining table. Lane’s laptop along with piles of books and notepads litter the surface, but the chair in front of it all is empty. He’s been working on a research article for the past several weeks, and he’s spent nearly as much time working from home as he has from the lab.

“Lane?” I call out as I remove my suit jacket and place it carefully over the back of the sofa.

There’s no answer.

“Lane?” I try again.

When there’s still no response from anywhere inside the condo, I go in search of him. He’s not in the kitchen, nor do I see him outside when I glance through the glass door that leads to our private, narrow pool with its infinity edge. I head down the hallway to the bedroom, but I don’t see him in there or in the bathroom either.

The last place to try is the small study just past the bedroom. I don’t use it much, preferring to work at the dining table for the view of Seattle out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that stretch the length of the wall. But I still keep a desk and computer and books and supplies in there.

Sure enough, when I walk inside, I see Lane standing on the other side of the desk, staring down into one of the open drawers on the right. He’s in nothing but a pair of sweats, the dim light from the hallway giving him a hint of a halo.

When he hasn’t looked up at my presence, I take a few steps into the room. “Lane? What are you doing in here?”

He still doesn’t look up as he answers, his voice sounding almost far away. “I was looking for a fresh notepad.”

My brow furrows. “They’re in the other drawer.”

“Oh. Right.”

Yet he still doesn’t move or look up.

Curious as to what’s captivated his attention so fully, I move across the room and around the desk. Standing beside him, I peer down into the drawer to see my sleek, silver pistol resting on top of a stack of folders.

I have several guns placed in random places around the condo just in case either one of our pasts ever come back to bite us in the ass. Again. I’ve never tried to hide them from Lane, and he’s seen all of them before. For some reason, this time seems to be affecting him more than the others.

Reaching up, I tuck a loose curl behind Lane’s ear. “Tell me what’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours.”

“Why haven’t you ever used it?”

I’m pretty sure I know what he means, but I need confirmation before having that conversation.

“I haven’t used this particular one…”

“No.” He shakes his head and finally turns to look at me. “Why haven’t you used it on me?”

I can’t help but grin as I arch a brow.

He lets out an adorable, nervous laugh. “I don’t mean that either. You’ve killed me enough, thanks.” He looks back down at the gun, chewing on his bottom lip. “I mean…we’ve played home invasion more times than I can count.”

The memories of those times have my cock twitching in my slacks. We haven’t had any intense play since our little kidnapping game in the lab last month. Not only because of Lane’s bad drop but because of everything that happened with Cason afterwards as well.

Things have been…chaotic.

“Don’t home invaders usually wield guns?” he asks thoughtfully.

Grabbing him by the arm, I turn him around so I can push him back against the side of the desk and get his eyes off the weapon and on me. “You can probably guess why I haven’t suggested it.”

It’s not that I’m against gun play. Hell, I’d probably fucking love it. But considering Lane nearly died after being shot three years ago, I haven’t brought up the idea both for him and for myself.

I know he has trauma from it. But so do I.

I almost fucking lost him.

“Isn’t there something about taking your power back through things like that?” he asks.

A small smile lifts my lips. “Well, aren’t you wise?”

He shrugs with a faint grin. “I’m an old soul. Besides, I’ve been stabbed by your knife, and you’ve had no problem with knife play.”

“Yes, but I didn’t nearly kill you.”

“It felt like you were ripping out my heart.”

Despite the grin still on his face, guilt fucking gnaws at my insides.

Three years is apparently not enough time for me to shake it. It probably doesn’t help that, while I apologized to Sean for killing him, I never exactly expressed to Lane how sorry I was for what I did to him. I thought I had more remorse for murdering the man who was like a second father to me, but after three years, the guilt for my actions toward Lane has only grown.

Lane and I might have improved on our communication over the years, but I’ve still never managed to let him know how much that time eats at me like a slow-consuming parasite.

When I start feeling guilty, I tend to show him my remorse in other ways because I’m too scared to use words.

I don’t fear much. Except anything that could make Lane truly see the devil he fell for.

Which might be one more reason I’ve never suggested this.

“Lane…”

“Stop.” He grabs onto the front of my shirt and peers up at me with an earnest spark in his eyes. “It’s in the past, and you know I’ve forgiven you. That I understand why you did it. But that’s my point, Harrison. Even after all that, I still trust you. I’d trust you with this too. If it’s something you’d want…”

Moving a hand into his hair, I give it a gentle tug before slamming my mouth to his. As my tongue pushes past his lips, I reach over and grab the gun out of the drawer. I let go of him without breaking the kiss so I can unload the clip and release the chamber. The bullets rain down onto the rug between us with quiet thuds as I continue to ravage his mouth, pressing into him so he can’t pull away.

It’s not until I place the barrel of the gun under his chin that I finally give him a chance to breathe. It comes out as a gasp as I use the gun to tilt his head back.

“Is this something you want?” I whisper in the short distance between us.

His eyelids flutter, growing heavy with arousal as he starts to pant from what I can only guess is a rush of adrenaline. He swallows hard and lets out a breathless, “Yes.”

It’s the sadist in me that craves to see that fear in his eyes, but it’s the other side of the coin that loves how much pleasure he gets out of it too.

“I could never aim a loaded gun at you, Lane,” I tell him as I move the gun lower, brushing it against his throat. As I press my body to his, subtly grinding against him, I feel his growing erection beneath his sweats. A wicked smirk stretches across my face. “But clearly it’s working anyway.”

He lets out a shuddering breath as the gun travels down to his chest. “Yeah, well, considering I’ve been shot before…But the fear’s all in my head, isn’t it? It’s not like you’d make a mistake and not actually empty the gun.”

I use the barrel to trace small circles around the scar from his gunshot wound before moving it to the most prominent scar I gave him three years ago, the one over his birthmark that was also a gift from me from when I killed him in his past life.

I arch a brow as though to challenge him. “Or I could be lying?”

“No.” He shakes his head, his breaths coming quicker. “I trust you.”

“I know you do, angel.”

“Besides, if you accidentally shoot me, just find me again in the next life,” he says with a faint grin.

“I plan on doing that anyway, baby.”

But I’d never betray his trust. Not again. Even if I still occasionally feel like I don’t deserve it.

And there’s that annoying, useless guilt again that I refuse to give words to.

I can feel him growing harder against me, his mind far away from where mine is trying to take me. I place the gun on the desk and kiss him again, deepening it briefly before it’s my mouth that’s traveling down this time. I pepper kisses and light bites along the column of his throat as he starts moaning and thrusting against me, my own cock already hard and begging for attention too.

It’s going to have to wait.

Whether Lane has made the connection between these conversations that bring up the past and how I choose to give him pleasure afterward, I’m not sure. He’s smart, so he probably has.

Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to use words.

For now, I lower myself to the floor, pulling his sweats down past his hips on my way, his hard cock springing free with precum slicking the tip.

It’s my preferred method of groveling. On my knees with his cock in my mouth.

***

Present day.

“As much of a sick fuck as you are.”

Lane’s breathless words pull me back to the present, but I remain momentarily hypnotized by the way he’s rutting against my gun. I realize I’m fucking panting as badly as he is despite standing here doing nothing more than letting him grind against the barrel of the gun. Because…it’s so fucking hot.

With that thought, I’m reminded that Lane knew exactly what kind of devil he was getting into bed with.

I’ve never hidden my darkness from him. Hell, I once tried to use it to push him away. But if all of the pleasure he’s gained from it, the way he loses himself in it, the way he’s currently humping my gun, doesn’t prove that his darkness fits perfectly with mine, I don’t think anything else would.

“Clearly,” I say with a smirk as I enjoy watching him, loving it too much to stop him. “You could get off just like this, couldn’t you?”

His hips move a little faster, his thrusts turning desperate. “Yes,” he moans.

I really am tempted to let him.

“Too bad.” Forcing myself to take the gun away, I toss it back onto the bed as he whines. “I’ve got something that’ll feel even better.”

Before he can complain or attempt to fight me even with his hands tied behind his back, I lower his boxer briefs, sliding them down his legs as his hard cock slaps against his stomach. Red, shiny, so hard it looks painful. Already leaking precum that smears across his skin.

Leaning over him, I press my cock that’s been dying for some attention for the last several minutes against his, wrapping a hand around us both. Lane moans, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

I start to stroke us, staring down as the feel of him, the sight of him all tied up and mine, sends hot pleasure tingling down my spine.

“Maybe I should record this,” I tell him, smirking when his eyes open wide. “Send it to your husband so he can see what a desperate, needy whore you are for a stranger’s cock.”

He whimpers and shakes his head. “No. Please.”

“I’ll tell you what, Dr. Hart. I won’t. But you have to tell me how much you want it. Beg me for it.”

He writhes on the bed, thrusting up into my hand. “Please,” he says, the word coming out as a sob. “I want it. Want it so bad. Please, give me your cock.”

I’m beyond addicted to those moments where he’s somewhere in between trying hard to play the game and wanting to be fucked so badly that his resolve slips. I can tell by his eager thrusts and pleading that he’s struggling.

“Well, how can I say no to that?” I ask, giving him a wolfish grin.

With my hand that’s not still stroking us, I reach into my pocket and pull out the packet of lube I stashed there. Keeping my gaze fixed intently on his, I tear the packet with my teeth. For a few moments, I do nothing else. I keep moving my hand around our cocks, not hard or fast enough to make either of us come, just enough to feel good. Teasing him.

His panting grows heavier as he squirms. “Fuck, please,” he groans, fresh tears pooling in his eyes. “Need more. Please. Fuck me.”

“Sorry, baby. You just beg so beautifully.”

Having some mercy on him, I let go of our cocks in order to slick my fingers with lube. With his ass at the edge of the bed, I hook one arm under his knee to push his leg back. With one finger, I trace his rim with slow circles, pressing against his hole but not pushing inside.

“Please,” he begs one more time.

I thrust two fingers inside him without warning, causing him to cry out.

“Fuuuck.”

“So fucking tight and warm.” I start fucking him with my fingers as I watch him throw his head back, his neck and chest flushed a brilliant red. “Gonna fucking ruin this ass.”

Muttered moans and curses fly out of his mouth as I fuck him harder and faster as though I plan on wrecking his ass with just my fingers. I add a third and fuck him deeper, hitting his prostate. He sobs as precum drips from his cock like a leaking faucet.

“Please. Fuck. Need more.”

“You need my cock, baby?”

“Yes. Please. Need—oh fuuuck.” His lips part in a silent cry as I nail his prostate again. “Need it. Need your cock.”

“Only because you’re being such a good boy and begging for it.”

Pulling my fingers out of him, I use the remaining lube to slick my cock and press the head against his hole, immediately pushing forward and sinking into his tight heat. I groan as I bottom out, the noise nearly drowning out Lane’s loud moan.

“I knew this ass would be like fucking heaven.”

I pull back slowly, making sure he feels every inch of my cock. Once it’s only the head inside him, I slam my hips forward with a force that has him sliding up the bed. I grab him under both knees and haul him back on my cock, bending his legs toward his chest as I lean over him and fuck him with every ounce of feral, possessive need I own.

“Do you think I can fuck the memories of your husband out of you?” I ask through my panting breaths.

He shakes his head weakly and whimpers, “Never.”

There’s a determination along with a softness in his eyes as he gazes up at me that has a genuine smile trying to take over my face.

“Do you think he’ll know I was here? Taking you? Using you? Making you beg for my cock?”

When all he can do is moan and shake his head again, I let go of one of his legs. Reaching down with my fingers that are still a little slick with lube, I tease his rim that’s stretched around my cock. Slowly, I add a finger alongside it, stretching his hole even more.

He lets out another cry as he squirms on the bed, and his cock leaks more precum.

“Does he make you feel as full as I do?” I ask as I start to work in a second finger.

The next noise that comes out of him is something between a moan and a scream. “No! Please. Please. It’s too much. I can’t.”

With one arm still hooked under his knee, I lean forward further so I can wrap my hand around his throat. His cock jerks against my stomach. “Does it look like I give a fuck if it’s too much?”

More tears spring to his eyes as he whines. “No.”

“That’s fucking right. I don’t. I’ll use you however the fuck I want. Maybe I should use my gun instead of my fingers. Fuck you with my cock and my gun at the same time.”

His wet eyes widen, and real fear flashes in their depths. “No, no, no. Please. I’ll be good. I swear, I’ll be good.”

As intrigued as I am by the idea—and more than willing to try—I have a feeling he might use his safe word if I carried through with the threat. And I’m not interested in pushing him quite that far.

 “I know you will.” I release his throat and rub my hand harshly down his chest to his stomach. “You’ll shut the fuck up and take what I give you, won’t you?”

He sobs, “Yes, sir.”

I groan because, fuck, I love that. He doesn’t call me that often. Only when he’s not supposed to know my name. Or when he’s being a little shit and using it sarcastically. I much prefer him using it like this.

“Good boy.”

Lane moans while I continue fucking him senseless, thrusting into him deep and hard. I leave my fingers where they are, deciding not to torture him with a third.

“Fuuuck.” More curses and moans and unintelligible noises slip from his mouth. “Fuck. Gonna…gonna come.”

Quickly pulling my fingers out of him, I wrap my hand tightly around the base of his cock. “Don’t you fucking dare. You’re mine tonight, Dr. Hart. That includes your fucking pleasure. You get to come when I give you permission.”

He whines long and low, squirming and grimacing. I can practically feel all his pain and pleasure bleeding from him. I know his arms and shoulders have to be killing him from being tied beneath him, but he’s floating despite it. Or because of it, the pain only intensifying his pleasure. His cock throbs in my hand, desperate and aching to come.

“I thought you were beautiful before,” I tell him, speaking through my breaths that become increasingly heavier. “But now? Fucking wrecked like this? You’re fucking sinful, baby.”

“Please,” he cries, more tears streaming down the sides of his face. “Please, please. Wanna come. Need to come.”

But I don’t let him. Not until I’m right there with him. Not until I fuck him a little longer, a little harder until he’s a sobbing, writhing, pleading mess. His head rolls weakly on the bed, his eyes wet and glazed over as he stares up at me like I’m a god deciding his fate.

“Please, please, please.”

My balls draw tight, and pleasure zaps along the base of my spine. I loosen my hold on his dick and stroke him.

“Go ahead, baby. Need to feel you come on my cock.”

His body almost immediately spasms as the force of his orgasm takes over. Warm ropes of cum shoot out of him up to his neck. His ass clenches around my cock, hurtling me over the edge to my own release. After I finish working him through his orgasm, I grab onto his hips with a bruising grip. With one last thrust, I fill him up, pumping my cum deep inside him.

“Harrison, please,” Lane whimpers, wincing against what I assume is the pain he’s feeling in his arms now that his pleasure is fading.

“One second, angel. Gotta clean you up.”

Not only because I refuse to leave him to go get a towel from the bathroom after everything I just did to him, but because this is one of my favorite parts.

As soon as my soft cock slips out of him, I drop to my knees and push his legs up with my hands on the backs of his thighs. I groan at the sight of his hole, pink and abused and dripping with my cum.

“Fuck. Absolutely sinful.”

Lane moans the moment my tongue is on him, his pain forgotten as pleasure consumes him once more. I lap up my cum, swirling my tongue around his rim before pushing it inside him to collect every last drop.

Once I’m finished with his hole, I sweep my tongue up his balls, over his soft cock, and up his abdomen, wiping him clean of his own cum too. Hovering over him, I kiss him deeply, his mouth opening for the offering of our combined release.

“Don’t we taste amazing together?”

Lane’s eyelids flutter as he whispers, “Always.”

Moving back, I help him sit up enough so I can reach behind him and remove the tie binding his wrists. When he’s on his back again, I use the tie to clean off any cum I missed before crawling onto the bed, pulling Lane with me until we’re nestled against the pillows.

With my arm around him, he curls naked against my side while I use my free hand to tuck my dick back into pants. I don’t bother to do them back up or take them off, more concerned with giving Lane what he needs right now.

“Harrison?” he asks softly, as though he’s unsure.

I can’t help but grin as I wrap both arms around him. “It’s me, angel. I’ve got you.”

He sniffles, his face buried in my shirt. “I’m sorry.”

My brow furrows. “For what?”

“I didn’t want to. He made me.”

Did I finally break his brain?

I try to pull him away so I can see his face, but he snuggles deeper into me and fucking giggles.

“You little shit,” I mutter as I relax.

“That was kind of fun.”

“Only kind of?” I ask with a smirk.

“Okay, a lot of fun.” He turns his head, resting his cheek against my chest. “We should do that again sometime.”

I smile because I’m definitely not against that. “We can do anything you want.”

“Maybe not fucking me with your gun.”

I chuckle as I start rubbing his shoulder. He moans and sinks deeper into my side. “Did we finally find one of your limits?”

“I think so. That didn’t sound like fun.”

“Noted, baby. Even sick fucks like us can have limits.”

He hums in agreement and goes quiet while I continue rubbing his shoulder, hoping it’s offering some relief from the position he was stuck in for so long. After a few minutes, I switch to the other shoulder.

Just when I think he might’ve fallen asleep, he sits up and throws a leg over me to straddle my waist, moving slowly with exhaustion.

He places his hands against my chest and stares so deep into my eyes that I fear he may fall through. Living with him inside me wouldn’t be the worst thing.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.” I reach up and take his face between my hands, brushing my thumbs along the tear tracks staining his cheeks. I give him a smile that’s filled with all the warmth in my heart. “Are you going to get emotional on me now?”

“Maybe.” His hands curl as he grips the fabric of my shirt. “One lifetime will never be enough with you, Harrison.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’ll have more than one.”

He makes a noise like he couldn’t agree more and leans forward to bring his mouth to mine. I can still taste the both of us as our tongues touch and tangle.

Without breaking the kiss, I roll us onto our sides. One of Lane’s legs stays wrapped around my waist as my arms wrap around him. I deepen the kiss only briefly before finally pulling away.

“Get some sleep,” I tell him as our heads hit the pillow. “I’m going to make love to you in the morning.”

He sighs contentedly and nuzzles against my neck. “Maybe I’ll make love to you instead.”

Closing my eyes, I smile. “I’m okay with that too.”

I don’t know what our future lifetimes hold, what it’ll be like when we’re no longer Lane and Harrison. I don’t like to think about it.

But I’m sure as hell going to enjoy the life we have now.