DALE

DESPITE HOW I don’t want to leave Amber, my sister insists. I understand the agreement for her to attain Red Crow, and I am fine with it as long as she consents. I also know Serene is wanting to smooth me over and make me a formidable Dom for Juliet.

Though I should be offended, I was actually flattered. Only one thing about it makes me nervous—who Serene selected to lead my path to greatness—Sal.

Arriving home, I head out back and find Sal, finishing up the last bit of trim work. He is painting, drinking beer, and watching a baseball game. I stand in the door for a long while watching him. His shirtless body flexes and arches, showing off every muscle and ripple. The silver crucifix around his neck glistens and the various bracelets on his right arm all have meaning. What that meaning is? I don’t know, you would have to ask him. The black watch focuses the attention to his inked forearms and taut biceps. He has worked hard to get his body and it is enviable.

He has also worked hard to be the kind of Dom warranted enough to be called a Master. It is not a title easily thrown around especially round these parts. I temporarily swallow my pride and admit he might actually have something to teach me. It’s a hard, little pill to get down, but Amber’s got enough nectar to make it worth it.

And that is my focus—her.

I want to be a better man and Master for Amber.

I know she needs more structure, more discipline, more ritual. Beyond that, I am not sure where this is leading, but I go with it out of love and a continuous and vital need to please her.

“You gonna say something, Hoss, or should I leave you to keep staring?” The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk as his dark green eyes shoot to mine.

“You know I don’t like this idea, right?”

“I am very well aware, but it doesn’t change the fact you need some knowledge,” he says as I notice the thick Juliet binder, sitting on the table.

“Will there be a test in the morning, Sir?” I mock, grabbing a beer and plopping on the sofa.

Standing on the ladder, Sal touches up the crown molding with glossy black paint. “Make fun of it all you want, but you won’t survive one night, competing with a Dom like Jack.”

“Or you…” I tease.

Climbing down, he laughs, “I am not that good.”

“You work Amber well,” I notice.

“Amber is easy,” he replies, tapping the paint can shut. “She wants it.”

I chuckle and ask, “Don’t they all?”

“No, Hoss,” he informs, wiping his hands on a towel. His ripped and stained jeans fit snug on his body, showing off his fantastic ass. Even I am jealous of his ass. “They think they want it. That doesn’t mean they do.”

Feeling a bit uncertain, I query, “Does Iris?”

“Iris wants many things that people refuse to give her,” he mentions, stealing my beer and taking a swig, “Including me.”

Observing the young man, I understand his charm and lure. He approaches everything he does with a zestful energy that is infectious. “Why?”

“Because she is actually a bit difficult,” he says, polishing off the beer. “Iris is a challenge.”

“That’s why you want her!” I laugh, knowing this already. “But what do you mean by challenge?”

“She has pre-set notions of how things should go. You have to knock her off that game if you want to get in her head,” he says, grabbing us another couple of bottles from the fridge. The tap will be installed next week and we are both looking forward to it. “Or, alternately, be the hunk she is touching herself to at night.”

Cracking it open, I claim, “You.”

“You got it,” he says unimpressed as he grabs his dick and rolls his eyes. “I want her to see beyond the package.”

“So, you are abusing the system again and don’t really have her at all?”

“My pretty face has her attention and she listens to her cravings,” Sal confesses, his frustration with Iris apparent. “She needs immediate response and has zero patience.”

“She is a mess, isn’t she?” I say as we plop on the sofa. We both lift our feet onto the coffee table as Sal clicks off the lights.

“Yep, that she is…” he mutters as we both notice his phone lighting up.

The sound system is hooked up and the flat screen looks beautiful. “You gonna get it?”

“Nup…” he says, crossing his ankles. He is completely focused on the television.

“You are really pissed off, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” he warns, flexing his jaw.

“Can I ask what happened?”

He tosses me a glare that screams don’t mess with me, but I push because I care. “It doesn’t matter. She is fucking bound and determined to get herself harmed,” he growls, segueing quick. “How is Amber?”

“Aww, man… She is fucking awesome.”

“Good,” he congratulates as we both notice his phone vibrating on the table. “You wanna talk to her?”

“Sure, I’ll talk to her,” I say. “Do I have to play nice or can I be myself?”

Sal snickers, “Be yourself. Don’t go easy.”

“Hello, Iris,” I say as Sal carries on, laughing in the background. “How are you doing tonight?”

“I’m fine. Is he there?”

Sal’s lips tug and curl as I respond, “He’s unavailable at the moment.” Trying to keep my composure, I say, “Can I help you with something?”

“Tell him when you hang up the phone that I need back what he took…”

Feeling caught, I stutter, “Uhhh… ok. Can I ask what he took?”

“My heart.” She hangs up the phone, and I am at a loss for words.

“I didn’t take shit from her,” Sal argues.

“Yeah, you have, Sal. You have her heart.”

His body tenses, and I witness the change. He isn’t okay. In fact, he is falling fast as a cigarette dangles from his lips and he shoots up to grab the whiskey bottle from the bar. I’ve seen Sal at his worst and this isn’t far off. It scares me as he hands the bottle over. A few shots in, he meanders over to his jacket and pulls out another pack of smokes. On the table, he’s rolling one up and the air fills with the sweet scent. “Best thing in the world to use is the blank pages in the back of a Bible.”

“You know they make bongs and vapes for this shit now, right?”

Taking a hit, he tilts his head back and smirks deviantly, “Ain’t nothing like chillin with a green. Damn Kaci used all them damn fangled devices… Partake?”

He’s brought her name into it like a deep, dark hole we never go down unless he’s bad off. I have to wonder how much other shit the Kid has tried as I take the joint from him. It’s damn good weed.

Bastard don’t smoke street.

I don’t have to ask who is supplying, I already know—Cas, Kaci’s sister. Unfortunately, it seems as though Kaci left Cas and Sal both with a bit of an issue. Now is not the time to inquire about what he is or isn’t doing. He’s not acting like he’s addicted to anything—other than Iris—but that’s stronger than any narcotic.

I should know, I am a lovesick junkie, too.

I hate to bring her up and as he starts talking I realize I am not going to have to. “She fuckin got me on this shit,” he says, grinning like an idiot. “She didn’t want to get high alone. We tried that a couple times, and it never fared well.”

“She was a feisty one for sure,” I recall, trying not to go down into the rabbit hole with him. One of us has to be able to shovel the other one out. “She was such a cute little girl—all that red hair. I can remember this animal print bikini she had. I had just gotten home from the service and watched over her while they were getting baby Cassidy. I took her to the store, bought one of those plastic pools, and she fucking played from morning until past dark. Jumping and splashing, so much fucking energy – she loved living. She loved just being.”

With a low rumble, Sal whispers, “There will never be another one like her…”

“I know, man. I know,” I comfort, laying my hand on top of his. The solemn conversation brings tears to both our eyes. “She loved you so fucking much. You were her entire world and her greatest blessing.”

“I am never going to get over her…”

“Nope, you’re not. You will be heartbroken for the rest of your life.”

“It’s just existing. It’s not living. I mean sure every day I wake up and try and do as she would have done to honor her memory. That’s why I have so much energy because I know she would have wanted me to live. But underneath that outer shell, I am fuckin destroyed.”

“Do you regret it?”

“How could I?” Sal reflects, “I had her for a such a short time, just a little under eighteen months, yet I will suffer for the rest of my years.”

“You can’t give up…”

Sal gazes at me like every day that is an option, a reality, and a choice he makes every single day. Leaning closer, he collides his lips into mine. I am stoic and shocked. He’s fucked up and fragile, the last thing he needs is my rejection. I want to not be the bastard that is enjoying this moment, but fuck if my johnson isn’t acutely aware that Raniero’s hands press to my cheeks and his mouth savagely takes mine. He licks and sucks past my beard, his wine stained lips demanding everything. It takes nothing for me to supply his lust filled yearnings.

He is running from the past, chasing the sex and finding the high. I am just the lucky bastard to offer an escape. This isn’t a long-term calling card. This isn’t let’s have breakfast in bed. This is he needs to defuse the bomb. I soften the blows, encouraging his continuance. Grabbing his elbow, I pull his slight frame—compared to mine—into my lap. He never parts from the kiss as he straddles over my thighs.

His breathing heavy, I am at a loss for what to do with his sexual prowess. His fluidity amazes me. If he wants a—woman or man—he seduces with a focused aim, mesmerizing and enchanting as his target will not break free—because they will not want to. He is that good. He doesn’t want anything more than my surrender and in that there are no labels for this act. And the only one that matters is—Master.

Releasing the tension in my shoulders, I accept this new battlefield I have parachuted into. I could evade the issue and stealth away, but it isn’t really what I want. And it isn’t what my Dominant wants either. The strange awareness tingles with an energetic zip, surging through my veins. His hands drift to the back of my head as he commands, “Stop holding back. Get the fuck outta your head.”

The lesson hidden in my blazing core.

His request seems so simple as I search for the answer, but I find nothing—the books burned and turned to ash scattered to forget. I cannot do it as his kisses leave me paralyzed and unable to move. In my mind, I panic as I hunt through empty shelves covered in dusty webs and dead debris.

There is nothing.

No agenda. No plan. No protocol for how I should feel or what I should do. I do not know this foreign tongue and I do not know how to surrender. I am a soldier and a fighter. I am an alpha dog. A warrior built for war, but this little fuck on my lap frightens me. His terror is not what he brings, but what I experience. The power of fear is not his, but mine.

I gulp down the horror as his teeth sink into my lip. Like a vampire, starving and gnawing until there is blood drawn. He sucks it up, salivating and relishing in its sweetness. He is hungry, driven, and unstoppable as the pain leeches into my soul like a numbing drug

It is good. So good.

Oh hell…

His ravishing consumption doesn’t stop as he works his way to my neck. His fingers fist and pull my ginger mane hard. More numbing hits so good as I mumble, “Don’t stop, please…”

He stops. Bastard.

“Sir,” he corrects.

A smirk forces its way up one side of my lip as I respectfully plead, “Don’t stop, please. Sir.”

The heavy narcotic of his torment seeps into my blood as I slowly lift my arms. I am not dead. He is not dead. We are both very much alive. I give and he takes. I know the mantra etched onto my soul. I know this dance we share, alive and beating, only in reverse. My hands grip the ass of his jeans. His muscular, hard muscle brims over my hands and feels so amazing as I squeeze his body in my fingers. “You have such a fantastic ass,” I mumble, drunk on his agony.

My pursuance for a solution signals, a quick chime answer in the form of a cheat sheet. His hands drift over my chest, ruffling my hair as he bites one nipple. I gasp at the piercing sensation turning into a solid burn. I never even knew I had such feeling in the pink circles, ignoring them. His eyes flash up to mine, dark emerald pools of sin. “We should pierce these.”

Holy hell.

“I just soaked my jeans.”

“You are okay, Hoss. Trust me. I am here with you. I have you.”

His assurance catapults my body and elevates my psyche. I am not alone here amongst the fragments of our past and the cinders of what we once were. His presence dazzles and delights as I follow his lead into the crepuscule athenaeum of my consciousness. His stark white smile captures my attention as he goes in for the other one.

“Don’t you dare blow your load.”

“Fuck, Nero…” I moan as my hands run through his hair.

I follow his advance to this remarkable world where the pieces no longer matter in the puzzle and there is only love. His startlingly beautiful frame lifts from my body as his hips pivot and roll. He pops the button on his jeans and brings my hand to his belly. The impact transports us to an island, surrounded by deep, uncharted waters. The dismay gives way to the panic as I fall back to the reality. I scurry about flinching and bolting until the sound of his low growl calms my instincts like another hit of a very good drug.

“Don’t lose the flow,” he warns, laying his hand a top mine and running it over his happy trail. I have wanted to touch his body for so long. Spending too many faps in the shower, I take a deep breath and do as he does. I am following his hand until he pulls back and I am left alone, petting this man I adore. I am bewildered by his perception and alarmed by own realization—he is me.

The slap to my cheek is hard, stinging with a hefty dose of dolor. Suddenly, I doubt my ability and fret disappointing his strategy. “Out of your head, boy.”

Blinking with gullible eyes, I mumble, “Yes, Sir.”

His washboard abs compel with a tautness so much like my own as I traverse south to his belly. I want to kiss his navel, dive my tongue inside and devour every inch of his perfectly statured body. His willingness to conform to my nervous inability is respectable, leaving an indebted bloom within. He brought us to this place with his winsome, garish ways.

His taut skin ripples under my graze as my mouth meets his dark fluff, tickling my lips. His hands clasp onto my shoulders, offering a buoy in the rough seas ahead. He senses my unease and reminds, “I have you.”

Things were so much easier when we were three. I could hide behind the girl, use her as a shield, an excuse, and a reprieve. But she is not here. Only he and I linger in this lost space as I conquer not only the source of my crush but take a spot beneath him at his knees. There is not one book missing, but two—how to be a bottom and how to love another man. The codes he pledges are an allegiance, bonding us with intimacy, and devout faith. I know why he prays for forgiveness now.

His sins beckon the fire as he baits the brimstone.

Raining on his savage, I repent into the beast.

I am so hungry. Starving for his flesh, I strike with a vicious tongue, swathing my mouth across what I crave. I take without holding back. Giving everything I have into the brawl, I ascend and collide with his monster. Ripping open his zipper, I recognize the beacon, shining bright in the contour of his skin. My hands grip around his cock—solid and easy—stroking rhythmically as he tapers my eager urge.

“Slower,” Sal directs with an ease, cascading the back of his hand over my cheek. “Enjoy this. Do not rush to the other side. The joy is in the journey, not in arriving at the destination.”

I marvel how smooth his instruction is. For all the doubt I collected—being older and a man—his evolution carries us both across the junction. He is strong enough, brave enough, and hopeful enough to do such without hindrance. It is freeing, elevating, and awakening.

My own body burgeons with a pure delight. The anticipation clicks up the rails like a roller coaster as I cannot wait to see where his direction takes us. Naive and unaware, I am so much younger than him. His experiences glistens and shines in the sun, a statue to be worshipped, revered, and adored. My own demons sanctify the blessing of his gift as my hand trembles through the stroking of his cock.

With his eyes fiery—sparking and igniting—he instructs, “Take your pants off.”

He backs away, removing his flesh from mine. The absence I feel is real, cinching my heartstrings as I cry inside for him to come back. I do not expect his gentleman demeanor to surface now of all times as he assists me in disrobing. Standing next to his confident frame, I stagger with the mathematics of us. His stealth to my tank, he is six inches shorter and at least thirty pounds lighter than I. My johnson is a trunk, his beast is an idyllic crown jewel. His adornments—the piercings—catch my eye with their brilliance as he saunters to the bed in an offset alcove of the dungeon. We fought over this.

“Why do I need a bed in my man cave?”

“First, Hoss… It is foremost a dungeon, and I guarandamntee you will get sick and tired of boning your bitch on equipment. You need a bed.”

Little piss ordered me a Cali king mattress online the next day. And now, I feel like an idiot as he crawls onto the black sheet. His olive skin invites with the punctuation of his precious blush erection. Nightstands on either side of the bed hold oversized lava lamps—one red and one blue. He insisted on the led lights surrounding the mirror panel inset into the ceiling, too. The heavy chains wait on either side of the headboard, but are tucked discreetly into the legs at the foot of the bed. He designed and decorated it all.

I never imagined we—Sal and I—would be the ones to christen the joint. In my wildest fantasies, he is with me, but this duet of an adventure remained hidden and kept to the recesses of cum stains on shower walls. He curls his finger and points at the bed as I reluctantly make my way over. Every minute that I have time to think is another second of faltering hesitation and disquieting ambiguity. The only anchor in the choppy waters is radiating like the devil as his temptation goads me to crossing the line.

Taking one stride after another, I step up into the alcove. “What comes after this?”

Lifting a brow, he flirts, “You mean after we cum…”

I nod.

“What happens here stays here.”

“I won’t lose ground outside?”

“No, Hoss. If anything, you gain fortitude in your ability…”

“And my future?”

“I am no fortune teller, but I would like to be a part of your life,” he says with a smirk. “You’re floundering. I will go.”

He springs up off the bed quick. In the half-second that passes, all the things that brought us here collect into a raging bonfire as the one thing that matters darts for his clothes. With my hand, I impact his body with enough force to push him back to the bed, bouncing.

I am a fucking alpha dog.

I take what I damn well want.

He is the teacher and I am the student. But passive, I am not. No one said having a collared, ginger-haired gargantuan on a leash would be easy. Crawling onto the bed, I loom over his body on all fours. He glances up with those fucking sexy as shit drunk bedroom eyes and I am sunk, craving more of his high. I want this guy. Whatever the fuck that means. I want his kinda crazy. With a smirk on his lips, he whispers, “Kiss me, again.”

I nibble and bite and toy with him as I loosen up. This is Raniero. He won’t bite. Well, maybe… But there is one thing I know for an absolute—he will not leave unless you pin him in a corner. In that moment, I know why he is so in love with Iris. She doesn’t just fight him. She counters his emotions and makes him face the past. Of course, my realization only makes me want him all that much more.

What ensues is a wrestling match between he and I. The only difference between now and the driveway is the bodily fluid at the end won’t be blood. He wiggles out from underneath and pops onto his feet with a cat-like agility. Raising his hand flat, he says, “Stay.”

The built-in cabinets on either side of the bed host a slew of gear. Half of the shit I don’t even know what it does, Sal ordered it all. I asked for two things—a beer tap and a spanking bench. He built the bench—a beautiful leather wrapped piece, big enough to hold two—and bought me a four-tap.

Opening the uppers, he removes a flogger from one of the hooks on the inside of the door. He grins and asks, “You good, Hoss?”

“Yeah, I am just wondering if I need a safeword.”

“Do you want a safeword?” he cackles, smacking the flogger against his leg. “I mean if you think you need safeword, then you probably do.”

“It’s a head game.”

His brow flicks up fast as he smirks knowingly. “You have seen some shit, man. If you need a safeword for this…”

“I don’t need a safeword for the flogger, dumbass. I need one for you.”

The leather comes down on my thigh sending my senses soaring again. It is a wonder drug. He twirls his finger in the air and I roll over. “Get your hands up on the headboard. Don’t move.”

“Is this gonna sting…”

“I said don’t fucking move, dammit.”

The unexpected lash of a whip sends a shockwave to my soul. Crack. Again. Pop. Again. Snap. Again. I close my eyes as he is relentless. My devotion to Master Raniero increases to a saint-like level. I didn’t know I needed saving until I was kissed with a whip in his hand. I am in heaven, trapped within his hell.

The whip conducts all his loss and grief as his inflicts the welts to me. In the line connecting he and I, all we are is there. His terrible childhood and gut-wrenching rape…Kaci’s beautiful life and horrific death…Amber’s nightmarish childhood and torturous rape…And the life and death of the best man I never really knew—my own father—Holland Archer…

He is me. And I am him. Together we are whole.

I know why he fucking prays so goddamned much.

He lost the ground when Kaci took her last breath. My sister is a stand-in for what he cannot find. The harshness of her discipline pushes him to collapse because it is the only time he can feel, and Iris threatens to unravel the whole web, leaving his soul vulnerable and damaged.

We travel together through all the heartache—I will take your pain for you. He will take my pain for me. I will do this for you because I love you that much. He will do this for me because he loves me that much. The prayer continues in my mind as I hope on the other end of that biting bitch he is finding his forgiveness.

He renders my body to mush and my mind a mess as tears free flow down my cheeks and soak the pillow. I know what he has given to Amber. He grounds her hot current, keeping her breathing and offering salvation in his cord. Everything stops, and I bury my head face down unable to look at him.

Gripping the fabric tight in my hands, I bellow as loud as I can, “Jesus…Fuck!”

His knees hit the bed as his arms bring me the warmest kind of comfort I have ever felt. Sitting with his back against the headboard, he holds onto my soul as I let it all go. I am slobbering like a baby with drool running down my chin and snot pouring out of my nose. “I never knew what I was asking her to give up…”

“I know that, Hoss,” Sal confides, handing me a tissue from the drawer. “That is why you needed this.”

Wiping my face, I muster out, “How the hell have you managed to be without for so long…”

“The grace of an angel brought you to me just as I was starting to see my truth. You caught the growth spurt as I changed hands…”

“Kaci died though Sal, she was your Master,” I correct hastily, “Mistress, apologies…”

“Heh, sometimes she was harder than any Master,” he replies with a chuckle. “Kaci gave me the tools to move forward and one of those is you.”

Laying my hand on his thigh, I glance down, realizing his dick is pressed into my chest. “And how do you think she would feel about this?”

“She is up there smiling and asking me what the fuck took so long,” he says and we both laugh. “I don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow or hell, even next week, but I know right now…I have a hell of hard on for what you just gave me.”

“Is Amber…” I question, not really knowing what to ask.

“I love that girl more than you could possibly imagine, but I need to pass the tools onto the next guy—you. If that means you and I have to tango for a round, so be it.”

With my spirit unharnessed and tethered only by Sal, I embrace the flight, breathing a deep sigh. “What now?”

The center of his brows arch up as he asks, “You wanna?”

“I do, but I really gotta piss.”

“Only after me,” he teases, jumping up and darting for the bathroom. I coast up and stand in the doorway, watching him take a piss. God, I love that man.

He washes his hands and splashes water into hair before leaving. Alone with my thoughts, I glance at myself in the mirror. My eyes reddened and cheeks splotchy from crying hysterically. I turn and look at my back in the mirror, which leaves me feeling a bit like Amber. I know now why she does it. The crisscrosses serve as a reminder, a blue ribbon screaming, “I am loved.”

The thought brings a smile to my face as I click the light and grab a bottle of water before returning to my savior. Looking like a Roman god, he lays there stroking his dick to full throttle. I want to just stare at him for a while. Chubs can no longer be controlled. He is up and ready to fire as I crack the bottle open and hand it to him.

Our hands touch—the same left hand he is using to toy with his cock—sending a chill up and down my spine. Setting the bottle down, I proceed to do something I thought I never would—I kneel to the floor––just like Amber has so many times before.

His cock is at eye level and he puts on a performance, teasing and taunting like he owns my johnson. He knows I am watching and every single thing he does is effecting me with a trickle-down theory. The same is true for Amber and I, she works it hardcore to build me up and make me want her more.

“Does this make me bi?”

He stops stroking—God fuck no—and rolls his eyes at me. “Does it matter what it makes you? Stop worrying about the labels. Live in a world where labels don’t exist. You want this D?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Come on then,” he welcomes, removing his hand and waving me on. “Take your time. Don’t be shy. Don’t do anything you don’t want. Explore. Enjoy me. Have fun.”

“I feel like I am going to a fucking amusement park,” I snarl proud, accepting his invitation to his whirlwind of enchantment.

“I can be…”

I can’t roll up as gracefully as she does. I guess not everyone is built for everything. Standing up, I plot my coarse, mapping the topography on his body of where I want to go first. His pouty lips seize my attention as my eyes skim over his chiseled muscles and magnificent definition all wrapped with ripe olive skin. His tuft of a trail snags my inspection before passing over to his hard, rigid cock. He is thick and veined with a delicious mushroom head. The glistening at the tip hooks into my essence, leaving me immobile and rendering me completely and utterly speechless.

I won’t remember anything from before.

Shooting my eyes back to his pretty mug, I simper and step closer. His hand reaches for me as I lay atop him slow. We are mouth to mouth and heart to heart as my dick rests at his marvelous tush. This is not the most extraordinary thing—that is held by none other than his throbbing dick snuggled underneath my belly. He is warm and smells earthly of sandalwood and musk. His fingertips trace over my wounds, reigniting the pain and giving me a hefty dose of his drug.

Yes, I know what you did—I will never forget.

And now, I am going to do something you will remember forever.

His chains splay in the wind, loose and unbound. Sal may be acting the role of Master, but his need for wicked a pain poses real in order to kick him out of misery. I question if we have fallen like dominoes here because of my calling his trigger. Maybe this is his subdrop. He seems to read my mind as he comforts, “I have you, Hoss.”

I kiss his lips achingly hard, nibbling and taking without regard to how he may punish me for such advances. His tongue licks my lips as his nose nuzzles my beard as I am savoring his biceps, forearms, and hands. He locks his fingers with mine as I work my way down. His navel distracts me once again. I dip my tongue inside as his hands grip and fondle my flesh, he is spoiling me with his tender thoughtfulness. He knows I am scared. Sucking his dick with Amber there is one thing, making love to him alone—quite another.

I nestle down between his enormous thighs—I hate this son-of-a-bitch for these leg muscles—as he flexes his cock at me. I smile at his comic relief. He is just as playful in bed as in life and I know why Amber is so smitten with this man. He is generous and kind and assured and forthright. “Suck it, D… Be my slut tonight.”

My dick throbs against the mattress as I grip his shaft and take him fully into my mouth. He is salty and sweet, beautiful and blessed. Licking along the vein, I say, “I have never sucked a pierced cock…”

His eyebrow jets up as he responds, “How many dicks have you sucked?”

I grin and laugh as I return to milking his rod. He likes it slow and steady, but I have watched him enough to know—near the end, he will buck wild, a stallion with vast wings.

“You should know something about me, D,” he whispers with an unexpected intimacy. He is talking to me like a lover. “Though I have said I don’t play catcher—the truth is—it is all I do. My dick has never been in anyone’s ass. I am kind of saving that for someone special.”

His stipulations mean nothing to me. I just want to fuck him. “Can I ask you… How many have you been with?”

“Aside from the…” he says, pausing.

“You don’t have to say it…” I offer, knowing what he means.

Slowly, he returns to a place of trust. “Including that, less than one hand.”

Quickly, I ask, “What about Jack?”

“We don’t play like this. He is my mentor and occasional Dominant.”

“Are you asking me if I will put my dick in your fantastic hot piece of ass?”

Caressing my face, he smirks. “I am asking if you want to and giving you permission if you do. Don’t feel you have to answer. Condoms and lube are in the drawer.”

In a calculated move, I swoop up and kiss his lips passionately. He is so fragile, so broken. I long to protect him much like I do Amber. Reaching in the drawer, I rip open the foil and drop it on his chest. Rolling the rubber over chubs, I take a fistful of lube, stroke up my shaft, and stick my finger into his tight hole. His face contorts.

“You ordered extra large…” I note, blinking up.

“And you are wasting no time at getting in my ass.”

“It’s a good ass, Nero. Why would I not want in that?” I ask rhetorically with a smile. “Who taught you to like this?”

“Who do you think?” he laughs as his fingers run through his hair. It’s slick and damp and sexy. “She had this fucking turquoise dildo she had custom made. Bitch loved to peg me.”

Nudging his entrance, I whisper, “Are you sure?”

“Hoss, just fuck me already.”

“Yes, Sir!” I bark and plunge into his hot hollow. His sack rests against my cock and his erection pounds against my skin, he feels divine. He accommodates my size as I lower my arms around his shoulders. “I can’t believe we are doing this…”

“You can stop,” he moans, thrusting upwards to meet me. “But the thing is, Hoss…on the other side of this, there is a sacred place—a sanctuary where everything blooms in splendor. This is never about the act; this is about the bond, the trust.”

All of the humor dissolves as we follow the path until we realize we are exactly where we are meant to be. He is my friend, my brother, my partner, my Dominant, and a million other things all rolled into one—Sal Raniero.

The feeling is so amazing and I acknowledge I have been doing it so very wrong. It was never meant to be tap that and done. Every interaction is a chance to spark an everlasting connection with another soul. And fuck, I am glad I didn’t miss this one.

Before we go getting all emotional and sappy over this thing between us, he slaps my ass hard. It feels good—his ass and his hand on mine. “Fuck me, Hoss. Don’t pansy. You think Kaci was ever gentle? I am tough.”

The look he gives booms a genuine laughter from my body. I kick back on my knees and pound into him, taking exactly what I want. My johnson is so far beyond hard as the little shit takes to riding me like his own personal sex toy. It’s hot. He’s hot. And I am hot—sweat drips off of me as I breathe and reach between our bodies to stroke his skin. I am not going to be the only one getting off tonight.

My hips thump, fucking his ass like I do my girl’s puss. It is good. So good. We are good. My fist pumps his rod hard as I gaze down I notice the splattering of pre-cum, I swipe my finger in the shit and lick my finger like it’s the best damn thing ever. “You gonna come, Raniero?”

He gives me the duh look and moans, “Fuck yes…”

Rocking our way across the sky, we land upon a cloud as my movements shift to a more intense stride. “I am going to fucking blow my load, boy…”

“Oh, I know you are…so do it.”

And that was all it took, his simple request. Trembling uncontrollably, I have his dick gripped with one hand and his hand with the other. I am shooting deep and long as he cums, grunting and spewing all over his belly. “Trust.”

Panting, I beam a wide smile at him. “I fucking love you, you prick.”

“I know, D. And I love you,” he whispers, petting my arms. “Now get down there and lick my jizz.”

“You’re such a fucker,” I marvel, blushing with my newfound skills in tow.

“Meh…Maybe just a hell of a professor.”

I am changed, blessed, and anointed by his holy cum. And tethered like a puppet held in the hands of a Master. And through it all, her spirit presided over us, guiding and encouraging—Amber and Kaci.

He is an asshole and my Master.

The devil made me his bastard.

* * *

AMBER

Waking up in Serene’s bedroom, I quickly notice Nico disappeared and left the door cracked. I haven’t been out of the room in several days. I throw on some yoga pants and loose sweater, before I head downstairs to see where everyone is. Finding a muffin on the counter, I smile at the note from Dale.

“We are next door. Please come.”

Stepping out into the sunlight, the heat feels good on my injured skin. I make it to the edge of the property as I see the feisty girl of Sal’s affections headed straight for me. Her expression imparts a serious determination. Approaching her with as much conviction, I fear we may bump heads as I mumble, “This girl is a fucking Dom in the making.”

“Hi,” I welcome, rubbing her arm.

She flips off her sunglasses and hands them to me. Her bruises are fresh. “What the fuck happened?”

“It isn’t important, but you need to get over there and calm down your man. Serene is gone. Jack is in Austin.”

“Where is Sal?”

“I don’t know…”

Despite my aching body, I sprint to the house. I don’t have to ask where they are. Guns ablazin, I yell through the house, “Dale Lee, stop!”

I dart down to the dungeon to see my father, laying in a table chair—beaten and bloody—and Dale standing over the top of him. “What the fuck is going on?”

“It is Revenge Day, sweetheart,” he warns, popping his face again and again. I cringe and look away. He pulls him up in the chair. “Why don’t you go ahead and share your little tidbit of information with your beautiful daughter?”

“Go get me a medical kit,” I whisper to Iris. “You need to be done, Dale.”

Blood gushes over his wrinkled face. I never realized how truly old the man was until now. All those hours in the car and I couldn’t look until now. She brings a small kit and a box of tissues that I take to him. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, I blot the red with tissue after tissue. I gaze up at Dale and say, “This is really bad.”

“Go on, Dad. Why don’t you tell her before I do it for you…?”

Breathing heavily, Pock looks to Iris. “May I have a bottle of water, please?”

“Well, since he won’t tell you, I will. I was doing some interrogation to clarify some of his issues with Cesario and his clan…”

Stumbling down the steps, Iris lands on her feet and smiles with an embarrassment. She hands Pock the water, interrupting the story. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine, Iris,” I say, holding the tissue on the man who donated his sperm for me. In the interest of needing Pock to actually talk to me, I choke out, “Talk to me, Dad. Please.”

“It was years ago, before you were born. I wasn’t married at the time. And if anyone tells you I was, you tell them to go double check the marriage records because I know when and who I married,” he says, taking a sip of the water. “I was dating a girl named Sarah Holden. She was young and blonde with these beautiful blue eyes. She had run away from Austin and ended up with Rampage, but she never really wanted to be one of us. We just kind of picked her up one night cause she needed someplace to sleep. Her parents were Bible beaters and strict disciplinarians,” he says, taking a sip of water. “One thing led to another.”

“Take your time,” I say, casting my gaze over to Dale who looks like he is ready to kill him.

“Well, she got pregnant and like any young girl—got scared. So, she headed back to Texas. We didn’t chase after her because I didn’t really care, she was just another piece. About the same time, one of the rival bitches ended up pregnant as well. I had been giving it to her as well.”

“So, you had two women pregnant at the same time?”

“Yeah,” Pock says, trying to smile. “I was young and dumb back then. I’d just have it. I had money and power, and the girls wanted that.”

“The first one was Jimmy…” I guess, knowing I am right. “He was really yours, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, he was. Jimmy was my boy,” he recalls, tearing up. “But the other one—her parents sent her to a halfway house, and one of the nurses there sold the baby off to the first offer that came in.”

“Me.”

He nods.

“Jimmy didn’t show up at your door to see his mom,” he says with a pained expression. “He showed up to see you.”

“So, they lied to me about switching the babies,” I determine, unsurprised. The woman who pretended to be my mom was always fucked up and twisted on something. “Was Evie yours?”

“Nah, she’s running around town, causing up a skirmish saying she is, but there is no way that fucking cunt belongs to me,” he says with a distinct clarity. “Jimmy was handsome and you are beautiful, my daughter. Evie was an ugly little thing, always was.”

“You didn’t protect me last week. You didn’t protect me thirty-three years ago,” I whisper, feeling the tears come to my eyes and standing up to walk away once and for all. “What was her name? My real mom, I mean.”

“She was Sarah Holden back then, but she has married since then—her name is Sarah Olsman.”

“Thank you.” Walking out, I nod and say, “D, do your thing.”

Iris grabs my elbow and helps me to the bottom of the staircase when I hear Dale’s phone go off with Sal’s ringtone. Waiting, I spin back to look at him when I notice the shocked stare of horror.

“What happened?”

He warns, “Go upstairs.”

“What happened?” I demand, clutching onto Iris as we hurry up the stairs.

“Get your ass upstairs, now!”

Dale locks the door to the dungeon and heads up behind us. With a haste in his tone, he barks, “You are not staying here, Iris. Go pack your things. This is on me.”

“What happened?”

Handing the phone to me, I play the video, showing the massive explosion of the Rampage compound. Clouds of fire soar through the air as the building erupts. I close the video and notice the message from Sal, “Tell Amber for me. I blew it.”

Realizing I am not the only one struggling to keep my guns from blazing, I whisper, “Jesus, this war is really happening.”

Nodding towards Iris without saying her name, D worries, “That girl is in so much damn danger now. I cannot let anything happen to her, and she cannot stay here. We are taking her with us,” he whispers to me as his fingers quickly push buttons on the work phone.

“Raniero just hit fucking bottom with the worst damn subdrop ever, lighting the fuse and blowing up the damn compound. I don’t know, it’s only going to get worse. I am taking Iris with me. Aimee and Rach are coming here to watch over Pock. Prepare for retaliation bombs.”

“D, are we going to be okay?”

“Yes, we are going to The Church.”

The Church isn’t invincible.