Page 47 of After the Chase

"Then their eyes," I continue. "The eyes that looked at you with desire, I'd use a melon baller as it's surprisingly effective. Scoop them out carefully, making sure to sever the optic nerve cleanly. They'd still be alive, feeling everything, but they'd never see you again. Never be able to picture you in their mind."

"Jesus…" Chase's voice is rough, strained.

"Their tongue would be next. The tongue that might have imagined tasting you, speaking to you, saying your name. I'd use surgical scissors that cut through muscle and cartilage like its butter. Pull it out as far as it will extend and cut it off at the root. They'd choke on their own blood, but I'd keep them upright and keep them breathing through the pain."

Chase is fidgeting in his seat now, his breath is shallow and rapid and so fucking hot.

"Then I'd move to their genitals," I say, my tone never changing from that clinical detachment. "The part of them that dared to imagine being inside you, that dared to become aroused thinking about you. I'd use a scalpel and remove everything, the balls first, then the dick. Slowly. I would make sure they feel every single cut, every nerve ending screaming."

"Noah…" Chase's voice breaks.

"I'd keep them alive through all of it," I continue. "Use adrenaline injections if necessary, to keep them conscious and aware. I want them to understand exactly what happens when someone thinks about what's mine. When someone imagines touching you, tasting you, having you."

Chase is trembling now, I can see it in my peripheral vision.

"And only after all of that, after they've experienced hours of mutilation, after they've begged and screamed and prayed for death, only then would I kill them. Probably slit their throat and let them bleed out slowly while they contemplate their mistake. Or I may use my bat, it would depend."

The car is silent except for Chase's ragged breathing.

"Then I'd dispose of the body where it would never be found," I finish. "And no one would ever know what happened to them. They'd just…disappear like they never existed."

I glance at Chase. His pupils are fully dilated, his face flushed. His hands are clenched in his lap, and there's a visible bulge in his pants. Perfect.

"That's what I would do," I say quietly, "to anyone who dared to look at you the way I described. To anyone who fantasized about you and thought, even for a moment, that they could have what's mine."

Chase's breathing is so audible now that it's driving me nuts.

"So no," I continue, my voice dropping even lower. "I would never make you perform for them or see you that way. Because if I did, I'd have to kill every single man in that clubhouse, and while I'm capable of it, it would be…inconvenient."

"Oh god," Chase's voice is barely a whisper.

"You're hard," I say.

"Yes, I think I’m gonna cum if you keep talking," he says panting.

"Talking about how I’d hurt them?"

"Yes."

"By knowing how far I'd go for you."

"Yes…fuck…yes. What have you done to me? Those kinds of words should be a huge red flag.”

“No such thing as a red flag. You were destined to be here with me, Chase. There is no other explanation. You’re where you’re meant to be.

Chase rests his head back into the headrest and closes his eyes on a moan as he squeezes his dick in his pants.

Fuck this, Marcus will have to wait. I take the next exit, pulling into a dark parking structure. I drive to the top level where it is empty, and park in the corner farthest from the entrance.

"Get in the back," I tell him.

Chase scrambles over the center console, his movements clumsy with need. I follow by getting out of the car, and getting into the back with him, pulling the door shut behind me.

In the confined space, I can see every detail of his arousal from the flush spreading down his neck, the way his cock strains against his pants, the heat in his eyes.

"You liked hearing that," I say, my hand moving to his throat.

"Yes."