“What is she doing here?”

Gray froze in the middle of what he’d been doing to follow the maître d’s eyes toward one of the new waitresses. “Yara came in to work early to help set up. Any problems?”

“No, sir.” The young maître d’ cowered at his glare and raced away.

With a nod to Yara, who smiled brightly at him, Gray made a mental note to keep an eye on the way the staff interacted with his newest server. Given his experiences as a kid, he had a zero-tolerance policy for bullying, whatever the reason. Anyone who tested him would quickly find themselves out of a job.

When Yara Stout had interviewed with him for the job, Gray had been impressed with her personality and her CV. He’d offered the position, not fazed at all by the buttons on her jacket that proudly proclaimed her pronouns along with what he thought was a Trans flag. She’d gotten teary-eyed when he’d shrugged and welcomed her to the Ruck family, making him wonder how many restaurants had turned her away.

In all honesty, he admired her courage. After moving to Cardiff with her parents from Brazil to be closer to her mother’s family, her father had kicked her out of the house at sixteen. An aunt had taken her in and cared for her ever since, though now at twenty she’d sought a job that might pay better to help with the bills.

Good kid.

Wonder if she’d enjoy meeting Alice and Alex?

They like quiet people, and she’s like a mouse.

For much of the day after lunch, Scottie played sentinel in the kitchen. Gray often looked up in the midst of cooking to find him brooding in the corner. He wanted to unravel whatever spiral of thought had gotten him into such a morose state, but customers, unfortunately, had to be served first.

Dish after dish went out of the kitchen. The steady flow of servers in out and out appeared to trigger Scottie’s hair trigger. Gray had no intention of allowing him to lash out at his employees.

“Stupid little—” Scottie snarled at one of the staff who’d bumped into him accidentally.

Gray grabbed him by the shoulder to guide him away from the young server. “I know you’re angry and messed up in the head about your father, but don’t fall back on your habit of taking it out on those around you. Don’t make me punish you, kitten. On second thought, go ahead. I’d love to have you bent over a chair, bared for my pleasure.”

“Fucker.”

Gray forced him to turn around and shoved him toward the door at the opposite end of the kitchen. “Go hang out in my office for a bit to calm yourself.”

After finishing the last of the cleaning, Gray sent the employees home, locked up Ruck, and checked in on Scottie. He found him slouched on the two-seat sofa that rested against the wall across from his desk. From his furrowed brow, it didn’t appear the time alone had done anything to help.

“Want to talk about it?” Gray perched on the edge of his desk with his arms across his chest while he stared down at Scottie. “Is it just about your old man?”

“Mostly.” Scottie sat up and stretched his legs out in front of him. His shoes knocked against Gray’s. “Fuck. The bastard has always managed to cause issues for me.”

“What do you need?” Gray watched Scottie’s eyes drift to the bottle of whisky sitting on a nearby bookshelf. “Not going to drown yourself in booze, are you?”

Scottie shook his head slowly and purposefully forced his gaze to Gray. “It’s tempting, though.”

“What do you need, kitten?” Gray had no doubts a scene would do wonders for shaking Scottie from his mood, but wanted him to be the one to ask. “You’ll have to ask nicely.”

With the results of their medical tests coming in clean, Gray had found himself eagerly anticipating their next scene. How far can I push the kitten? Discovering a sub’s boundaries was always his favourite type of adventure. Is he really ready for a deeper exploration? Only one way to find out.

Scottie glowered at him while the silence stretched between them. “Fuck you.”

Gray canted his head to the side, allowing his gaze to drift slowly up and down Scottie’s body. He could see how close to the edge he was. “No, but maybe I’ll fuck you if you beg me to.”

“Not a chance,” Scottie scoffed.

Gray’s lips twisted into a wicked smile. “You’ve begged for me before, kitten. It was beautiful music to my ears.”

“Fuck off.”

The two words were far softer than Scottie usually voiced them. Gray couldn’t make the decision for his sub; the act of submission, in his opinion, happened each time they came together. He waited and watched patiently for the man slouched on the sofa to make up his mind.

He believed, as a Dominant, that waiting to be asked was a critical start to foreplay, but also a signal of consent. His job was to stretch a submissive’s limits without betraying their trust. The real power lay in Scottie’s hands; one “no” and the party ended immediately.

“I can’t—” Scottie shut his mouth so sharply it had to hurt.

Gray enjoyed greatly the obvious internal struggle going on in front of him. “Yes, you can. Find the words like a good boy.”

A visible shudder went through Scottie. Gray’s dick hardened at the sight of clear evidence of his words affecting the man. He shifted slightly on the desk to make the bulge evident.

Scottie’s eyes almost instantly dropped down to his crotch. “Fuck.”

“Ask nicely, kitten,” Gray reiterated. He dropped his hand to his cock to casually stroke himself through his trousers. “You remember how.”

And he did.

After a minute or two of continued internal debate, Scottie slid off the sofa to the floor. His jaw clenched tightly enough that Gray wanted to massage his own in sympathetic pain. His sub’s hand stretched out toward him before dropping back to his side.

“Good boy. You always wait for permission before touching.” Gray feathered his fingers across Scottie’s furrowed brow. “Ready to ask?”

Scottie opened and closed his mouth several times. He seemed frozen in place for a full minute. “Can I touch you, sir?”

Gray caught Scottie by the neck to press him forcefully into his cloth-covered cock. He watched as the tension slipped out of his submissive in his finally taking the step. “I’m proud of you.”

Seeing as they weren’t at his home in his well-equipped play den, Gray opted to improvise the scene. Hell, I might use the damn office more often if it smells sweetly of Scottie’s surrender. He continued to rub his lover’s face against his trousers until his hunger to get the man naked and stretched over the desk grew too strong to deny.

Getting to his feet, Gray yanked Scottie up and immediately shoved him face first onto the desk. It took no time at all to get both their trousers and briefs around their ankles. He pumped two of his fingers into Scottie’s mouth, moistening them before moving down to roughly thrust them into his other favourite orifice—more for the tease than to prepare him.

The bare arse staring at him proved impossible to resist. A quick glance around the room helped him identify the perfect implement. Why thank you, Francis, for including a wooden ruler amongst all the shit you purchased for the office. Pressing Scottie’s head down with a firm warning not to move, Gray dragged the edge of his improvised tool along the inside of his thigh up to the crease of his arse.

Careful not to overdo it, Gray heated Scottie’s cheeks with precision born from years of practice. He made certain to gently caress the pinkened skin in between swats. By the time he was satisfied, Scottie had begun to practically hump the hard surface of the desk.

With one last swat and a command not to move again, Gray slicked his cock up and pressed in. He enjoyed the sharp intake of Scottie’s breath. Intermingling swats to his sub’s behind with hard thrusts, he drew out his enjoyment as long as possible, making sure to tightly wrap his fingers around Scottie’s hard, leaking shaft to keep him from achieving climax.

“Your relief only comes when I say it does, kitten,” Gray growled out the words before one final surge forward; he ruthlessly filled Scottie to the brim with his pleasure. “Fuck.”

“Sir?” Scottie bit the word out through heavy panting. “Please?”

Gray dragged his fingers down the taut muscles of Scottie’s back. “Jack off on the desk.”

“The fuck?”

“Be a good kitten. Not sure your ass can handle another punishment.” Gray flicked one cheek lightly. “I want to watch you do it.”

“Fucker.” Scottie hissed when Gray swatted him again. “Yes, sir.”

Pulling up his own clothes, Gray reclined on the sofa to watch the show. Scottie’s gaze locked on his Dominant’s while his fingers wrapped firmly around his cock and stroked quickly. It didn’t take much for him to climax across the desk.

“Lick it clean, kitten. Now.” Gray leaned forward to run his fingers along the still slightly pinked cheeks when Scottie bent over with muttered cursing. He breathed a quiet sigh as he noticed his submissive’s tense shoulders had relaxed. The scene had worked the magic he’d hoped. “Good boy.”