Cas’s knuckles whitened where he gripped the table harder.
Jonah splayed a hand over the center of the boy’s back, and when the edge of the table bumped up against his dick, he shuddered at the pleasure that ricocheted through him. “Apologize.”
Cas made a choked sound Jonah suspected was supposed to be a laugh. “I can’t apologize for something I didn’t do.”
Jonah smacked him again, and then twice more. This time, Cas whimpered, the sound delicate and intoxicating at once. He smoothed his hand over Cas’s bottom, gentler now, the skin mesmerizingly hot. As he trailed his fingers lightly over the furrow of the boy’s ass, Cas’s hips tilted minutely. It was such a tiny movement, but the way Cas rocked forward like he was seeking friction against the table made Jonah hesitate. And then he caught the faint but unmistakable scent of arousal.
He knew he should leave. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. “You’ve never lied to me before.” He wasn’t actually certain of this, the more he thought about it.
“You lied to me all the time.”
Jonah slid his hand from Cas’s midback up to the nape of his neck and threaded his fingertips through the ends of his hair. “Apologize,” he insisted, even though he was long past caring whether or not Cas apologized.
This time, Cas didn’t even try to hide the roll of his hips against the table as he let out a breathless, strained, “Fuck you.”
9
Caspian
The words sounded desperate, even to Cas, but he was short circuiting. Jonah had always been the fatal flaw in his code, the bug that froze the part of his brain separating logic from emotion. Cas didn’t understand what had happened or how he’d found himself there, naked and rock hard, his trapped cock leaking onto the table, one of Jonah’s hands twisting his hair and the other teasing the tender skin of his abused ass.
Jonah chuckled, and the sound was a blessing and a curse. The low timbre of Jonah’s laugh raised the hair on his arms and made Cas’s chest feel like it might explode. Part of him wanted to cry. He’d spent seven years longing for Jonah’s touch, and now, Jonah was finally giving him what he craved and it meant nothing… Nothing to Jonah, anyway. A means to an end. A way to bend Cas to his will. Was this how Jonah made all his people talk? Cas hated the part of himself who didn’t care. The part that just didn’t want it to end.
“You won’t win this one, Caspian. You of all people know that, when I want something, I’m relentless.”
Cas wheezed out a laugh. “And you want me? I’m flattered.”
The resulting smack set his skin on fire, but it was nothing compared to the blaze catching in his blood. Jonah twisted the fist in Cas’s hair, tugging him up just enough for Cas to realize Jonah’s lips were inches from his ear. “I’m not the one naked and whimpering while he dry humps a massage table. Give me what I want, and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”
“What is it you think I want?” Cas spit out, his face hot.
Jonah’s fingers followed the crease of Cas’s ass, dipping lower to tease along his balls. “Relief? One little apology and this all ends. I’ll even let you come,” Jonah murmured in a low seductive voice Cas had never heard before. A teasing, smug tone that made Cas furious and horny at the same time.
It cemented Cas’s greatest fear. That Jonah had always known how much Cas wanted him, had loved him, and it meant so little that Jonah was willing to use it as a weapon against him. For what? An apology for destroying their old apartment? Why the fuck did Jonah even care about their old place? Why was Jonah there at all? Had Annie drugged him? Was this all some elaborate hallucination?
His breath caught as Jonah’s lips trailed along his shoulder. “Just say you’re sorry.”
Cas cried out as the next smack came, setting off sparks along his spine that ended at his balls. He rubbed himself against the table, moaning at the friction. He was already so close. Fuck. It had been far too long.
“Why are you doing this?” Cas mumbled, more to himself than to Jonah.
“Because maybe if I’d done this the last time you threw a temper tantrum, you’d have lived the life you were meant to live, instead of becoming a criminal like…” Jonah trailed off, voice soaked in regret.
Cas snorted. “Like you?”
Jonah seemed to catch himself. “What were you doing in Russia?”
Cas tried to push himself up and off the table, but Jonah gripped the nape of his neck, forcing him back down. Had Jonah seen how hard Cas was? He wasn’t sure he could take much more humiliation, but his cock throbbed, pre-cum oozing.
“Don’t,” Jonah growled.
The tone stopped Cas in his tracks. “Jonah…”
Cas couldn’t stop the long, low moan that left his lips as he rubbed himself against the table, hoping Jonah didn’t see how desperate and needy he was.
“What were you doing in Russia?”
“Working,” Cas gritted out, tears forming in his eyes as Jonah brought his hand down on his ass once, twice, three times, showing no mercy. That was Jonah, though. Merciless. Unrepentant. Hypocritical. Cas wished any of that made him want Jonah less, but it didn’t. Not even being held down and spanked like an errant child made Cas any less turned on, and knowing that Jonah could still get to him like this only pissed him off more.
