His face flames red, eyes wide, chest heaving—but the answer doesn’t change. “Yes, sir.”
Every word brands him deeper. Every question knots the leash tighter.
And Elias Mercer—cocky, reckless, feral—keeps saying yes.
His face is blazing red now, cheeks flushed, curls sticking to his forehead, chest heaving like everyyescosts him air. But he doesn’t stop. He hasn’t faltered once.
So I lean closer.
The rooftop chaos fades—Cole yelling curses, Shane balancing beer cans, Mats pretending he’s not watching. It’s just him and me. My mouth dips low, close enough that my breath stirs the hair at his temple.
One last question. Filthier. Crueler. The kind that would split him open if he answered wrong.
“If I told you to let me bend you over right here, where every single one of them could see what you’re good for…”
He jerks, whole body stiffening, breath catching like I just punched the air out of him. For a second—one fragile second—I think he might break, might stumble, might finally choke on that reckless mouth of his.
Then he swallows, eyes burning, lips parted—
“Yes, sir.”
The word is quiet. Shaky. Softer. But it’s still instant. Still absolute. Still obedient.
My jaw tightens. My chest burns. He doesn’t even know what he’s given me—how far down the leash he’s crawled. He’s not drunk enough to blame it on the booze. He knows exactly what he just said.
And God help him—so do I.
My restraint snaps one notch looser.
I lift my hand, slow, deliberate, and press two fingers under his chin. His breath hitches, eyes flying wide, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. Just stares up at me, waiting.
I tilt his head back, force him to hold my gaze.
“Good boy.”
The words cut low, curling into him like a brand.
His whole body shudders. A flush creeps down his throat, blooming hot across his chest. His mouth parts, no reckless words to cover the wreckage. Just silence. Silence and obedience, carved out of him clean.
I let it hang there for a beat longer, my fingers steady under his chin, the leash pulled tight. Then I release him, slow, deliberate, stepping back into the shadows of the rooftop chaos.
He stays frozen.
Cole’s still howling, Mats is leaning smug against the rail, Shane’s trying to hex the city skyline. Elias doesn’t move. Doesn’t follow. Just burns in place, vibrating with everything I’ve carved into him.
Cole shoves a drink into my line of sight like he’s offering tribute. I take it without hesitation, tip it back, and drain it in one pull. The whiskey burns down my throat, sharp and clean, nothing compared to the heat already crawling under my skin.
I lower the glass, glance at Cole. “Don’t let Mercer drink anymore tonight.”
Cole blinks, then grins wide. “Yes, Cap.”
That’s all. No questions. No pushback. Just obedience.
I set the cup down, cut through the noise, and leave the roof. The party rages on behind me, their voices echoing through the stairwell, laughter rolling over the night.
I don’t look back.
The door to my hotel room shuts behind me with a heavy click. Silence presses close, thick and still, a stark contrast to the chaos above.
