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Next to them sat a matching red leather collar, thick and sturdy, with a heavy silver D-ring at the front. My fingers brushed over the smooth leather. I pictured it fastened around Santiago’s throat, snug enough that he’d feel it with every swallow, every breath. A constant reminder of who was in control. I added it to the pile without hesitation.

Then I moved to the rope section. Not the cheap, abrasive nylon shit, but high-quality, unbleached cotton. Soft enough not to tear his pale skin on the first pass, but strong enough that he wouldn’t be able to twist an inch free no matter how hard he struggled against it.

A short riding crop with a wide leather tongue caught my eye near the register. I flexed it between my hands, feeling the rigid bite of the shaft. It was perfect for precision. Perfect for making him feel every individual strike while I forced him to look at me and see how beautiful he looked falling completely apart.

By the time I reached the counter, my arms were full. The guy behind the register raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word as he rang me up. I also picked up a BDSM rule guide from the rack. I may have always jerked off at those bondage videos, but Santiago wasn’t just any sub. I knew he was going to fight me every step of the way. I needed to know exactly how to handle his guarded nature without breaking him. I paid in cash. No receipt. No paper trail.

As I walked back out into the overcast afternoon light, the heavy plastic bag swinging at my side, my thoughts locked onto the dashboard clock.

Santiago would show up at the parking lot tonight. He’d try to convince himself it was just to tell me to fuck off, or to threaten me, or to claw back some semblance of control. But we both knew the truth.

He was going to come because he was desperate to be heard. And tonight, I was finally going to give him exactly what he needed.

9: 49 PM

I drove into the parking lot and took one of the spots in the otherwise empty parking lot. It was quiet, except for the distant bass from the University pub. I rolled the window all the way down taking the fresh air in. I didn’t know if Sig was going to show up. I checked the time on the LCD screen and a total of two minutes had passed. I huffed. “If he was coming, shouldn’t he have been here already?”

I exhaled. “Relax, just relax, he is coming, he has to.”

Finally a car’s headlights turn in this direction.

It wasn’t who I hoped to see, but dreaded to see, it was a campus security car.

When I rolled down the window at the guard's knock he said, “You can’t park here after hours. May I know your business.”

“I am on the football team, waiting to meet a friend for practice.”

“You should have checked with your coach's office first. The field is closed for maintenance, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

I opened my mouth to argue and then I saw a petit figure standing in the shadows of a tree near the entrance. I nodded and waved at the officer as I steered my car making a U-turn. I drove to Sig and opened my passenger door. He stared at me for what felt like forever before he jumped into the passenger seat.

I watched him checking his phone. “Expecting a call?” I asked, breaking the silence.

He smirked and raised his beautiful eyes to meet mine. “You’ll see.” As soon as those words left his lips, my car skidded, hitting something I couldn’t see. And then after a few jumps as I hit the breaks hard it stopped. “Fuck, are you okay?” I turned to Sig, but he swiftly lifted my phone from the car charger and jumped out of the truck.

And then I saw as he stood between two men, one of whom I remembered as his master from the club. I gritted my teeth.

“You seriously thought I’d submit to you?” Sig leaned into the door and spoke in his husky voice. “What do you know about BDSM, Brooks? Hell, have you ever even done a guy? Someone has to be really stupid or desperate to trust their life with you, Brute. Thanks for the video, it will make a nice addition to my collection.” He winked as he walked with those assholes.

I stepped out of the truck, boots hitting the pavement with a heavy crunch. Rage and raw hunger boiled under my skin as I stormed toward them. The so-called master and his buddy barely had time to react before I slammed my shoulder into the first one like I was clearing a hole on the field. He stumbled back hard. The second guy tried to swing. I chuckled, “amateur.” I shoved him aside too, sending both of them sprawling.

Sig’s eyes went wide with genuine fear the second I locked onto him. Perfect.

I fisted a hand in his hair, yanking his head back just enough to expose that pretty throat. His breath hitched audibly. Before he could spit out another smart-ass remark, I crushed my mouth to his.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was brutal, teeth clashing, my tongue forcing its way past his lips like I was claiming territory. I bit his lower lip hard enough to draw a sharp, broken sound from him, then sucked it between my teeth. Sig’s whole body jerked against mine. I felt the exact moment his cock twitched and started to swell against my thigh, a traitorous little thing, already leaking for the punishment he pretended to hate. His knees buckled for half a second before he caught himself, a low, involuntary whimper vibrating into my mouth.

I kept devouring him, punishing, owning, until his lips were swollen and slick. When I finally ripped my mouth away, a thin string of spit connected us for a beat before it broke.

Sig was panting, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed dark. His chest heaved under that hoodie, nipples visibly hard even through the fabric. Lower down, the front of his jeans was already tented obscenely. The sight made my own cock throb behind my zipper.

I chuckled, all his husky defiance and that cocky wink was gone. Now he looked wrecked, lips parted, trying to glare but failing miserably.

I slid my free hand down between us without warning and pressed my palm firmly over the hard bulge in his jeans, squeezing just enough to make his hips jerk forward involuntarily. His cock pulsed hot against my hand, twitching again as I rubbed the heel of my palm over the head through the denim.

“Stop this fucking kid’s play,” I growled against his ear, voice low and rough. I gave his dick another slow, possessive squeeze, feeling it jump and leak for me. “You don’t want these assholes dominating you, who are willing to play your servant for a few bucks. You want someone who can truly dominate you, own you, punish you.” I rubbed my thumb over the leaking head through the fabric of jeans.

“Umm.” He moaned.