His eyes have widened a little as I talk but he nods. “Y-yes, Sir.”
“You afraid of me right now?”
He nods. “A little, Sir.”
“Good. I’m going to make sure you leave here scared shitless and wanting more.” I lean in and drop my voice to a whisper I know Liam cannot possibly hear from upstairs. “I promise you, I am going to fuck you up in ways you probably never dreamed possible. I’m certain he’s a far more creative sadist now than he was when you knew him, and I have my own tightly-twisted kinky streak to add to the mix. So buckle up, buttercup. Nothing worthwhile ever came easy, and neither will this.”
He swallows hard. “Yes, Sir.”
I stand and step back, motioning for him to rise. “Strip. Leave your clothes there, bring your phones, and follow me to the living room.” I don’t wait for him to comply. I want him scrambling to catch up and kept off-balance.
It’ll make it that much easier to mentally and emotionally put him where I want him.
From what I gleaned talking to Liam earlier, Ward is in a loveless marriage he was forced into by his father. An arranged marriage to a miserable woman.
A woman Ward claims he’s never even fucked.
Supposedly, his only sexual partner, ever—beyond his own hand—is Liam.
I can believe that, actually. Liam’s damned good. Not just in bed, but as a sadist and Master.
Until now, I mean.
Hey, everyone fucks up from time to time. Liam’s fuck-up happens to be a colossal one of epic proportions. Understandable, considering the emotional trauma he suffered losing Ward the way he did.
Sure, it’s easy to armchair quarterback this when you don’t have any skin in the game. It’s easy for someone to say Liam should’ve sucked it up and dealt with it and moved on.
But when it’syourheart perpetually jammed in a running shredder, it’s not such a simple matter.
Don’t underrate the healing power of closure. My mom didn’t have closure. My mom lost my father a piece at a time, first rapidly, then over years, until he took pieces of her with him when he died.
Maybe what I witnessed growing up made me the perfect ultimate partner for Liam. I understand loss and limbo and a tenacious, hopeful love that refuses to die quite well.
Too well, perhaps.
Ward quickly joins me in the living room. I take the phones from him and make him stand there while I circle him and study his body. His cock’s not hard right now but I suspect he’s a grower, not a shower, and he’s likely nervous as all get out. He’s taller than my five-ten, but he’s shorter than Liam’s six-five.
“Six-two?” I ask.
He nods. “Yes, Sir.”
His sandy brown hair has more grey than Liam’s dark brown hair. Liam is going grey at the temples, but Ward has grey sprinkled everywhere. Liam also has less body hair than Ward. I mean, Ward’s no furry bear, but he’s definitely not a bald twink, either.
And Liam and I both exercise on a regular basis, so we’re both fairly toned. Ward has a softer form approaching dad-bod status, but there’s nothing wrong with that and he’s still gorgeous.
I pause in front of him and splay my hand across his abs. “You don’t exercise at all, do you?” It’s weird touching another man besides Liam in such an intimate way.
I’d better get used to it.
“I used to, but then the Senate campaign happened.”
“Ah. Campaigns are a bitch on one’s diet. Starting tomorrow, you start exercising again. I don’t care if you hit the gym at work, or jog, or what you do. If you’re going to keep up with us, you need to stay in shape.” And I need another way to torture him when I can’t have him in front of me to stripe his ass with an implement.
I move to his back. His ass is adorable.
I can’t wait to put marks on it. “Bend over and grab your ankles.”
He does. I reach between his legs and trail a finger along the back of his heavy sac and over his taint. Liam said you’ve jerked off. You play with your own ass?”
