I lock the office door. I unzip my pants and take myself in hand and I'm already hard. I've been hard since he stretched and that strip of skin appeared and my cock knows what it wants even if the rest of me is still pretending this is something I can control.
On the screen, Theo tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. I watch his mouth. I stroke myself slowly, my thumb pressing the underside on the upstroke. My breathing changes.
I think about the security room. His scent, sharp and clean, cutting through everything. His hands flat on the table, steady, while Viktor talked about ditches. His chin tilted up, defiant, even with fear rolling off him in waves.
I think about the slick. I could smell it on him through his pants. Through his fear, his body was wet for me and he hated it and I wanted to press my face between his thighs and taste what his body was offering even while his mouth was saying no.
My hand moves faster. The feed shows Theo typing, oblivious, and the fact that he doesn't know should make me stop. It doesn't. It makes something hot and dark coil tighter at the base of my spine.
He's mine. He's been mine for eight years. His body knows it even if his brain is still fighting.
I come hard, my free hand gripping the edge of the desk, my jaw locked shut. My hips jerk and the sound that escapes me is low and rough and his name.
I sit there for a minute. Breathing. The feed is still running. Theo is still typing.
I clean up. I go to the bathroom and wash my hands and look at myself in the mirror and I don't pretend.
I go back to the desk and pick up the phone.
"Viktor."
"I'm here."
"Move him into my suite."
Silence.
"You sure?" Viktor repeats.
"Yes. Get monitors and all the rest of the surveillance set up into the second bedroom. You can remove the bed to make space. Same setup as the conference room. Monitors, real-time access, archived footage."
I can practically hear Viktor thinking and trying to work out how to tell me this is a terrible idea.
"I want him where I can see him,” I continue. “If he's working for the Castellanos, I'll know sooner with him under my roof than two floors away."
"Dom."
"Do it tonight."
Three seconds of silence.
"Fine," he says. "Your building."
He hangs up. I close the feed. I sit in the quiet of my office and I can still smell Theo on my hands, underneath the soap. Or I'm imagining it. It doesn't matter. The scent is in my head now. It's not leaving.
My father's voice:The moment you start wanting things, you become the player, not the house.
I know. I don't care.
7. Theo
At six o'clock, Viktor unlocks the door. He walks in, stands by the door, and says, "You're done for the day. Turn off the laptop."
I look up from the screen. I've been in the dealer rotation schedules for three hours and I'm close to something. "I'm in the middle of—"
"Turn it off."
I turn it off. He holds the door. I walk through it. He leads me to the elevator and presses the button and stands with his hands clasped behind his back, staring straight ahead.
