As easily as that, the light bounced back into the lion’s expression.Luther nodded to himself as he strode across the room and started rifling through a wardrobe.
He returned in less than a minute, victory in his eyes and several ties in his hands.
Marrick nodded his approval, happy to endorse anything that showed they were at least willing to try.
His clothes quickly disappeared.Within minutes, Marrick lay on the bed, face down, with his hands extended up toward the bed frame.Luther quickly tied his right hand in place.It should have been a tighter binding; he’d have liked it to have been a stronger knot, too.Marrick kept those facts to himself.The simple fact they were willing to tie him up was glorious—they’d have years to work on the details.
The breath caught in his throat.They’d havedaysto work on the details.Maybe even weeks.Months at the outside.That’s what he’d meant.Days…
“You’ve healed.”
Marrick happily jumped on the distraction.“What?”
“The lines that man left on your back have healed.”
Marrick looked over his shoulder.That was hardly surprising.Huntley had barely had a chance to flick the whip against his skin before Luther had descended on him and chaos ensued.
“You can put some new marks there, if you like,” Marrick offered.
Without warning, he found himself unceremoniously flipped over onto his back.The fabric tightened around his wrist very nicely as he was tugged several inches down the bed in the process.
“You think either of us would ever do that to you?”Blaine demanded.
Marrick looked up at him.The lion looked so thoroughly disgusted by the idea, Marrick couldn’t bring himself to hold his gaze.
He had nothing to be ashamed of.He’d worked his way through all that bull a long time ago.He’d be damned if he’d apologise for his kinks—or blush over them.
But he still couldn’t find it in himself to lift his gaze.In some way that he was only then starting to understand, this was important.If some guy in a club looked down on masochists that was fine; Marrick had been there, done that.He’d shrugged, walked away and hooked up with another dom right around the corner, too.
If Luther and Blaine hated that part of him…
Marrick swallowed.Unwilling to look down a moment longer, he turned his attention to his bound wrist.He kept his focus fixed on that point until Luther’s fingers settled on his cheek and turned him to face him.Their eyes met.
“We would never hurt you.”
Marrick took a deep breath and let it out.Feel the fear and do it anyway.He’d lived by the motto for years.It was the habit of doing that more than anything else that finally pushed the words out of his mouth.“Not even if I ask you to?”
Confusion flooded Luther’s eyes.He looked to Blaine for help.Marrick followed his gaze.Blaine was frowning at him, but the anger had gone.
“A pet shouldn’t ask his master to do something like that,” Blaine whispered.They were the gentlest words Marrick ever heard the lion utter, and Marrick would have given him anything if he’d just have taken them back.
“Then, maybe I’m not the pet you want.”Marrick looked pointedly at his wrist.“You can untie me now.”It wasn’t as if there was much use in keeping the restraint in place, if that was how they really felt.
Blaine reached out as if to untie him, but halfway through the movement, he seemed to change his mind.Ignoring the length of fabric still wrapped around Marrick’s right wrist, the lion placed his palm flat on the centre of Marrick’s chest.
As he stared down at Blaine’s hand, Marrick saw the lion’s nails morph into claws.Real claws—just like a domestic cat’s but lion-sized.They extended just enough far for the sharp tips to catch at Marrick’s skin.
Marrick held his breath.He was pretty sure both lions did the same, as everything seemed to hang in the balance around them.As he watched, Blaine slowly started to move, dragging his fingertips down Marrick’s chest, his claws leaving barely visible scratches in their wake.
Helpless to do anything else, Marrick arched against the mattress, pressing his skin up against each point of contact.His lungs burned as he continued to hold his breath, but pure relief swept through him like a torrent.
Hand resting on Marrick’s stomach now, Blaine somehow formed his claws back into nails that were indistinguishable from a human’s.Marrick couldn’t look away from those nails, not even to properly inspect the marks Blaine had left further up his body.
Finally, Marrick remembered to breathe, but he still couldn’t pull his attention away from Blaine’s harmless looking fingernails, not until a movement caught his eye.He watched as Luther reached out and gently caressed the light scratches that decorated Marrick’s chest.
“You like being marked that way?”Luther asked.
Marrick nodded.“By you, too?”he asked, not quite able to hide the hope in his voice.It was just a scratch.Part of him understood that.It wasn’t as if they’d suddenly declared that they’d happily whip every inch of skin off his body.But that didn’t matter.
