Page 4 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)

“Hmm…” Yugo tilted his head, wondering if that was a joke.

The idea hardly amused him, but the memory of his former captive taking the lead in the bathroom two years ago, pushing him down to the floor and willingly kissing his body, flashed before his eyes.

It was one of the most cherished memories he had revisited during the long, cold nights, but however bright it had been, it faded with time.

Kuon’s request contradicted his goal to see everything up close, but curiosity won. “Alright…”

He rolled off the bed and strolled to the dark wooden dresser drawer to retrieve a black tie.

The mattress sagged under his knee as he returned to the bed and sat on the edge at Kuon’s side, one foot still on the floor and the other tucked under him.

He blindfolded himself. Colors died; so did the light.

Through the brief confusion, his other senses broke through.

He blinked, adjusting to the pressure of the tie over his eyes, then found Kuon’s hands and brought them to his own face.

“Happy now?” He dragged his tongue over the heel of the trapped palm, nibbled at its edge. “I can’t see a thing.”

“Uh-huh…” A whiff of warm air washed over the backs of Yugo’s hands.

Kuon’s fingers tentatively cupped his face, outlined his forehead, slid down to his eyes, but they didn’t stay on the blindfold for long.

Tracing Yugo’s features, he examined his cheekbones and nose, then lingered on the firm line of his mouth as if trying to see it.

Yugo held his breath as the feathery touch became ticklish.

For fuck’s sake, I want to see you… He already missed his sight, but instead of yanking the blindfold off, he ran his hands along Kuon’s arms, obedient to the rules.

Kuon didn’t resist when Yugo pressed on his shoulders to lay him down and ghosted his hands over the broad chest, counting every muscle groove, memorizing the imperfections of his skin. In the dark, the touch felt different, more intimate. His nerves lit up as his sensitivity spiked.

A bullet scar below Kuon’s right collarbone resembled a shallow crater. A thin raised line stretched from his right flank to his lower abdomen. A web-like scar rippled the skin on his left side, above the hip. They all felt horribly raw to his touch. Warm too.

Yugo loathed them all because their existence made the man beneath him feel unfamiliar.

He bit back a bitter smirk, realizing he had no idea how Kuon had earned most of his scars.

He’d never asked. In his heart, he kept denying their existence because each one could have robbed him of Kuon and the future they had together.

Each one was a striking demonstration of his stupidity.

I never should have let you go. I won’t make that mistake again…

Refusing to let regret and anger corrode his mind, he pushed his hands under Kuon’s hips, hooked his fingers into the waistband of his jeans, and peeled them off along with his underwear.

Kuon’s knees bent as he lifted his hips to help, brushing his thigh against Yugo’s forearm, sparking anticipation.

Yugo hummed as the game started growing on him, both exciting and annoying at once.

Kuon’s hips burned where the fabric had grazed his skin.

Those cold hands, so skilled at inflicting pleasure and pain, felt strangely clumsy as they explored his body.

They often paused to inspect tiny blemishes instead of concentrating on pleasure points.

That was distracting. He tried to relax and enjoy but couldn’t.

He hated to admit it, but Yugo’s violence, scent, and the musky taste of his cock had unleashed dark emotions in him, demanding release.

Dormant memories of this place, which he’d never wanted to remember, unraveled in his mind’s eye, dragging him into a semi-trance.

The wolf pelt lay sprawled across the floor in front of the hearth, its hollow paws outstretched and yellow eyes reflecting the flames.

Heavy curtains blocked most of the daylight, but they let in just enough to make the crystal drops of the chandelier flare with color and cast iridescent flecks on the dark hardwood floor.

The massive bed, where he had been humiliated countless times, loomed ominously, its metal chains coiled around the pillars.

Silent witnesses to his disgrace, the tall mirrors multiplied reflections of the silk-draped ‘altar’ of pain and pleasure.

His imagination reconstructed the room so vividly it was as if he’d never left and it had all happened yesterday.

He shook his head, but the image would not dissipate. Frustration flared. With a thoughtless action, Yugo had made him feel insignificant, powerless. Again.

Asshole… Fucking moron…

Kuon wanted to let the incident go, and he tried, but his anger bubbled up from deep within his core, as it often had in the past two years.

Black and corrosive, it spread, poisoning his being and demanding justice.

He rammed his canine tooth into his lower lip so hard that a coppery taste coated his tongue, but the pain failed to cleanse his mind.

Rougher than intended, Kuon pushed the man until Yugo was on his back and under him. With his knees bracketing Yugo’s hips, he rested his palms on his clavicles, pressing the man into the mattress.

“Wow… It’s rare for you to take the initiative. It’s fucking hot,” Yugo whispered with vivid admiration, and Kuon detected a movement under him. “I want to see you.”

“Remove the blindfold, and you’ll be finishing alone.”

Catching Yugo’s hands, Kuon forced them upward and pinned them to the pillow above his head. To distract his prey, Kuon leaned in and brushed his mouth across Yugo’s chin, feeling more than hearing the stubble rasp against his skin. “Didn’t you want to play?”

Yugo huffed, relaxing. His chin lifted, giving access to his neck. He only dropped his guard for a beat, but it was more than enough for Kuon to find the handcuffs and wrap the steel around Yugo’s wrists.

“What the fuck?” The man lunged forward, but Kuon pinned him to the bed, his forehead pressed against Yugo’s cheek as his weight bore down on his chest. One hand held Yugo’s wrists still, while the other fumbled for the carabiner and secured the handcuffs to the chain dangling above.

“What’s wrong? I thought you loved chains.” Kuon panted, yielding to the madness within. He leaned forward and planted a light kiss somewhere on Yugo’s face.

Having the Black Duke pinned beneath him, spread wide, was… thrilling.

“The game won’t last forever, hm? Continue, and when I’m free, I’ll make you regret your actions.” The warning was steeped in false amicability. Metal clanged as stone-hard muscles flexed under Kuon’s hands, straining the chain. “Be reasonable. Uncuff me. Now.”

Yugo was right, no denying it; yet Kuon disregarded his warning. This dark attraction, this unfamiliar, adrenaline-fueled temptation, intrigued him. He wanted to explore more. Maybe then he would understand the Black Duke? It was worth the risk.

“I could, but I don’t want to,” he confessed in the same tone, sinking deeper into the abyss of dark, unfamiliar elation.

He wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or just trying to teach Yugo a lesson, probably both.

“I want to know what it feels like to be you. More than that, I want you to know what it feels like to be me .” When the chains clanked again, he added, “I must remind you not to be violent. If you hit me, the stitches might not hold. If you don’t want me to lose my sight forever, stay still. ”

Despite Kuon’s actions, Yugo wasn’t worried yet.

Annoyed, yes, but not afraid. The BDSM bed wasn’t a death trap.

It was made for fun, not real torture. Unless he was sprawled out like a starfish, he reckoned he could unchain himself from almost any position, even blindfolded.

The tug on his restraints proved the chain wasn’t strained.

If he threw Kuon off himself and raised his hands just a little, he could probably reach the carabiner with his fingertips.

Yet, he stayed still. The tiny possibility that his lover might lose his balance and hit his head kept his back glued to the sheet.

Still, Kuon’s threat made his hackles rise.

Gritting his teeth, he pressed the blindfold up against his biceps to uncover one eye and looked at the amateur manipulator sitting on his hips.

His anger vanished.

Golden light from the night lamp glinted off the fresh cut on Kuon’s lower lip, bathing his skin in a warm bronze hue.

His fingers twitched as they sank into Yugo’s ribs, but Kuon’s bare ass sitting on his hips distracted from the pain.

His powerful back was curled, shoulders hunched forward until the bones stretched the skin, like an animal ready to charge.

Tight balls, dusted with dark hair, rested on the V of Yugo’s unfastened zipper.

The half-erect cock, foreskin rolled back, kissed the thick vein running up Yugo’s lower abdomen.

Fuck my life… His mouth went dry. He tried to swallow, but his tongue scraped against his palate, bringing no relief. Dying for a drop of moisture, he lifted up for a kiss, but the damn chain held him back, and Kuon couldn’t see his effort to meet him halfway.

Sultry breath burned his skin as Kuon’s hot mouth pressed against his chest and glided lower, kissing, licking, biting its way to the black triangle of his pubic hair.

Where Kuon paused to suck on his skin, pink spots bloomed.

They were so light, as if he wasn’t sure whether more intense stimulation and hickeys would be appreciated.

Kuon was cautious, and a deep scowl beneath the plastic shields only exacerbated the air of hesitation around him. A thought broke through the heat of pure lust. Seriously, who rapes like this?