Page 171 of Discordant Cultivation

A little while longer. Implying you intend to share it eventually. Which means it’s not shameful or dangerous—just something you’re not ready to give me yet.

The thought was intoxicating. Vale had access to every aspect of Kieran’s existence, but here was something still held back, some corner of creativity or emotion that Kieran protected with desperate determination, even as his cock twitched in Vale’s grip, growing harder with each teasing stroke.

I want to know. God, I need to know what’s in your head that you won’t let me see.

“What is it?” Vale asked. “Another song? Poetry? Something about us?”

He wanted it to be about desire, about Kieran’s need for him. He wanted those missing pages to contain more beautiful confessions like the intimacy song. He released his hold on Kieran’s hair and spit on his fingers.

“Keep your head on the floor,” he muttered, continuing to stroke Kieran’s cock as he pressed one saliva-slicked finger to Kieran’s hole.

Kieran gasped at the intrusion and arched, his bound hand squeezing into fists as Vale pressed further inside him, curling his finger to make Kieran moan.

It’s narcissistic and selfish, but I can’t help wanting to be the center of whatever you’re creating in private.

His touches became more insistent with soft, rhythmic strokes along Kieran’s shaft, milking beads of precum that dripped onto the ground. He needed to remind Kieran exactly who held all the power. He thrust a second finger deep inside him, hooking to rub relentlessly against his prostate until Kieran’s moans turned ragged. “Tell me what you’re working on.”

“I c-can’t,” Kieran sobbed, tears soaking the blindfold, his voice thick and wet, body clenching around Vale’s invading fingers. “Not yet. P-please, Vale. I need—I need this one thing to b-be mine for just a little l-longer.”

The concept should have irritated him, it should have triggered the need to eliminate any space where Kieran existed independently. But instead, Vale’s arousal spiked at the contradiction—Kieran begging to keep secrets even while bound, blindfolded, and completely at his mercy, his hole fluttering around Vale’s fingers as they pumped in and out with deliberate slowness, building that inescapable pressure.

You’re still fighting for tiny scraps of autonomy. Still protecting something you consider sacred from my access. And somehow that makes me want you even more.

Vale’s mouth found heated skin, tongue tracing over the marks he’d left with measured strikes—the raised welts on Kieran’s ass warm under his lips. Kieran jerked at the contact, a sharp gasp escaping him. Vale alternated between soft licks, laving the tender skin with broad, wet strokes, and harsh bites that sank into the meat of his ass, drawing a fresh cry as his teeth broke skin just enough to bruise. All the while, his fingers continued their assault inside, thrusting deeper, curling to massage that swollen bundle of nerves.

“Tell me what’s in those pages,” Vale murmured against his reddened flesh, releasing Kieran’s cock midstroke and gripping his balls, rolling them gently at first, then squeezing with just enough force to border on pain, feeling them tighten in his palm. “What are you protecting so desperately?”

“It’s n-not ready,” Kieran whined, whole body trembling. “I just n-need more time. Please, I’ll d-do anything if you’ll just drop it.”

Such a dangerous word to offer someone who already owns everything.

“Anything?” Vale’s tongue dragged slowly across sensitive skin, lapping at the crease where thigh met groin, tasting the musky essence of Kieran’s arousal there. “What could you possibly offer that I don’t already take whenever I want?”

Kieran’s breath came in desperate pants as Vale’s touches grew more invasive, designed to overwhelm thought with sensation—now three fingers buried deep, stretching him wide, thrusting in a punishing rhythm that slapped wetly against his ass while Vale’s other hand jerked him off in tandem, twisting at the head on each upstroke. “I’ll—I’ll do the h-hood sessions again. Without asking you to st-stop. Or—or you can record me,f-film whatever you want for your private collection. I’ll l-let you—”

“I can already do all of that whenever I want,” Vale interrupted, his teeth finding the junction of Kieran’s thigh with enough pressure to make him let out a sharp yelp that echoed off the walls as Vale bit down, sucking a dark hickey into the skin while his fingers crooked inside, pressing hard against his prostate. “Keep trying.”

“More endurance l-lessons,” Kieran offered frantically, words tumbling over each other, his hips rocking back onto Vale’s fingers, chasing the building ecstasy. “I’ll d-do them whenever you w-want, however l-long you want. Or—or I’ll p-perform it at the concert. Make it p-public instead of k-keeping it private—”

“What is it?” Vale asked, his voice deceptively soft, though his thumb still circled Kieran’s cockhead lazily, smearing the slickness.

Kieran started crying, not the controlled sobs of correction but genuine tears of desperation, his body still impaled on Vale’s fingers, trembling with unspent need. “P-please. Please don’t make me tell you. It’s supposed to b-be—” His voice broke. “It’s a g-gift.”

Vale’s fingers slipped free with a wet pop, leaving Kieran gasping at the sudden emptiness, his hole twitching and slick, begging to be filled again. “I’m going to let you keep your secret,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble as he positioned himself behind Kieran, yanking his hips up into place. “But not because you’ve earned it through suffering. Because you’re right—some things should be given freely.”

Vale freed his own cock, the thick length slapping hot against Kieran’s ass. This wasn’t how their lessons usually ended. Vale didn’t relent. Vale didn’t respect boundaries. Vale took what he wanted and reshaped whatever resistance remained until it looked like willing surrender.

But this is different. You were making something for me. Something real. And I don’t even know what it is. But your body... that’s mine to take right now.

“Finish your song,” Vale continued, his voice carrying an unfamiliar gentleness even as he lined up and thrust in hard, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. Kieran cried out as Vale set a punishing pace. “Make it perfect. And when you’re ready to share it—mmm—I’ll be listening.”

Vale gripped Kieran’s bound hands, using them as leverage to pull him back onto each thrust, the rope digging into skin as he drove deeper, the slap of flesh on flesh echoing through the room.

“T-too hard—!” Kieran gasped. “V-Vale, s-stop—”

“No.” His free hand tangled in Kieran’s hair, yanking his head back to expose the line of his throat. “That’s it, beautiful boy,” Vale growled, leaning down to kiss the sweaty skin of Kieran’s shoulder, lips soft against the heated flesh before his teeth grazed into a gentle bite. “You can take it.”

He slid both hands around to Kieran’s neck and squeezed as Kieran tried to protest again, biting down on his own lip to stave off his orgasm.