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Rocco’s legs gave out under him, and he collapsed to his bed in the MC’s clubhouse with a rueful groan. He had not thought this through. He needed to be ready to leave for this stupid engagement announcement in twenty minutes, and Blaze wanted to talk to him beforehand.

The plug he’d left for Emilio had a hollow centre perfect for anchoring his air magic.

He’d been unable to resist weaving his power into the toy so that he could feel the ghost of the sensations coming from the plug on his achingly hard cock.

It would’ve been a bit like magical cock-warming if his puppy used it as intended.

He could feel the smooth, hot, tight skin of Emilio’s hole gripping his cock as it held the plug in place.

Emilio hadn’t just inserted the damn thing, though. He was fucking himself with it. And it felt amazing . Rocco’s hips jerked up into nothing but air as the zipper of his pants dug painfully into his swollen length.

Flinging his arm out to grab his phone, he gritted his teeth as he texted his fiancé.

Rocco:

Naughty puppy. I like it .

The phantom sensation of thrusting heat on his cock paused and then disappeared. Had he thrown the plug away somewhere? Just as well the connection only functioned when it was touching skin.

KNOT your puppy:

Creep. Did you put a camera in my house?

Rocco smirked. How long would Emilio spend searching for a camera that wasn’t there? He didn’t bother responding. He was already running late.

Buttoning up the jacket of the tuxedo he used to wear to Council functions with his family, he headed out the door, winding his way down the narrow stairs and corridors until he reached Blaze’s office.

“Nice monkey suit, Prez. What’s up?” he asked as he stepped inside.

Blaze glanced up from his computer and looked him over from head to toe. “At least you look the part.”

Rocco snorted and rolled his eyes. “Not my first rodeo. I was trotted out to something like this most weeks by my family before my hijinks got too awkward to hide.”

“There will be no hijinks tonight. We need Kyan and the vampires reassured your engagement isn’t a plot to take over the city, we need the Supernatural Council convinced the tensions aren’t going to out our kind to the humans, and we need the human politicians to keep turning a blind eye.

That means you need to look harmless and in love. ”

None of this was news to Rocco. He didn’t deal with the few humans who were aware of the presence of supernatural species in their city—like the Mayor and Chief of Police—but he knew the deal from his family’s work.

The Council pulled the strings of the human leadership to make sure whoever was in power would help them cover up any mishaps.

The explosion of magic on the outskirts of the city where Emilio’s father had died had been one of those times the humans had to step in to help smooth things over.

Rumour had it that Marco and Blaze had met with them for over four hours to convince them a war wasn’t about to break out.

It was his job to help sell the lie with this arranged marriage.

War might not be breaking out between the families yet, but it had already arrived with the shadowy D-2S terrorists, who somehow continued to evade their efforts to shut them down.

“I don’t know that I can pull off harmless. How about obsessed and too distracted to bother any pesky vampires or humans?” Rocco answered.

He wished he were joking. His obsession had only grown after Emilio stepped in to stop Brand marking him. It had been the first time someone had stepped in to help him since he came to the city.

Blaze sighed. “That will have to do. Don’t make me regret giving you a second chance. And don’t you dare approach Andy if he’s there. You’re damn lucky the Police Chief never heard what you were doing with his son.”

That was progress, at least. Blaze was saying ‘ with ’ his son, not ‘ to .’ Rocco had tried to explain it was all consensual and that he’d stopped his stalking as soon as they broke up.

He’d even shown screenshots from the texts where he’d negotiated their arrangement.

No one had given a fuck. They’d been too caught up in the fact that one of his gloves had been found outside Andy’s bedroom window.

The window of the Police Chief’s house. As if he’d ever be sloppy enough to leave such blatant evidence behind.

They’d all been too focussed on the potential ramifications of making an enemy of someone they relied on to operate safely in the city to care.

Someone had planted his glove there, and he was betting it was Brand. The question was, why? And how could he prove it when fire mages could burn any trace of their presence away with their power?

Per their contractual agreement, Rocco pulled into the parking space under Emilio’s apartment to collect him so they could walk into this party together.

Most attendees of the annual winter ball would be going the limo and driver route, but the venue had valet parking as well, and he wasn’t interested in letting anyone else take the wheel.

“Oh, fuck no. I’m not riding bitch, you asshole,” Emilio said as soon as he stepped outside and saw him waiting on his bike.

Rocco tugged his helmet off his head and paused to take in the picture his fiancé made in a satin-finished, deep purple tux with black trim that, much like the bike Rocco was straddling, perfectly matched the colour of his power.

He was so distracted, he was off the bike and getting right up in the shifter’s space before he could even think.

Leaning forward, he rubbed his thumb over Emilio’s carotid with one hand while he pulled the shifter close to trace his teeth up the shell of his ear. Emilio’s body shuddered against him at the blatant scent marking, and they both groaned.

“Stop that,” the shifter growled, not making any move to pull away despite the fact he was far stronger than a human could ever be.

“You’re not wearing my gift,” Rocco said, biting down harder on his neck.

“This one?” Emilio asked, putting a hand in his pocket.

Rocco slammed the shifter back against the nearest wall as a phantom warm grip wrapped tight around his cock, stroking it. A pained groan slipped free as his hips jerked forward to grind against the smug shifter.

“How’d you figure it out?” Rocco asked, moaning again as the too-soft magical touch ghosted over his most sensitive skin. He was so getting Emilio back for this. Not right now, though. Blaze would kill him if they were late.

“It wasn’t hard. It stinks of your magic, and there was no way you could’ve seen what I was doing with it earlier.”

“Swept the apartment for bugs, did you? Find any?” Rocco asked, panting a little as he nuzzled into the spot under Emilio’s ear where his eavesdropping magic was still doing its thing.

“Fuck you. We need to go. I’m driving,” Emilio said, heading toward a Maserati MC20 parked nearby.

“Seems a bit flashy for you,” Rocco noted, crowding the shifter against the door before he could open it. “And if you’re making me travel on four wheels, I’m definitely driving.”

Emilio smirked before grabbing his wrist and twisting it up behind his back, manoeuvring him around the car and into the passenger seat so fast he would’ve had to use his power to stop him.

It was kind of hot. He’d been wondering if his fiancé was a secret submissive with the way he’d responded to Rocco’s games, but there was nothing submissive about the firm way he was manhandled into the car.

Rocco’s cock, still hard from Emilio’s earlier teasing, throbbed, and he shifted in his seat as he leaked pre-cum onto the expensive fabric of his suit. He really should’ve worn underwear.

“We need to make an entrance. I’m borrowing it.”

That explanation fit better with what Rocco had discovered about the secretive shifter and his work in the shadows. A flashy car was no use when you were tailing someone to torture them.

“Wait,” Rocco said, placing a hand on the shifter’s as he put the car in gear.

“What? We don’t have time for your bullshit games. ”

Rocco reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. “Engagement rings.”

This one wasn’t in the contract. It was all him.

The MC wasn’t much for marriage, but his folks were traditional this way at heart.

He’d never hear the end of it from his mama if he didn’t pretend like he’d proposed on bended knee with a ring.

He sure as fuck couldn’t tell her it was a business arrangement.

He’d never put her in the position of having to hide something like that from the Council.

Emilio swore under his breath. “Whatever. Hand it over.”

Much like the car, Rocco had known he had to go flashy.

They needed to attract all the attention they could get.

Turning to face Emilio, he flipped open the box and pulled out matching black titanium bands, each with a huge, tension-set black diamond in its centre.

They were dark enough not to give them away when they were stalking prey at night, but under the flashing lights of the red carpet they were heading to, the stark contrast with Emilio’s tanned skin would draw every eye.

Emilio stopped him before he could slide it on his finger, scowling as he took in the inscription in flowing purple script inside the band— Good puppy .

“Fuck my life. If you wrote Master in yours, I’m going to choke you on the damn thing.”

Rocco grinned, showing the blank inside of his band before pushing the ring onto Emilio’s finger. “I’d rather choke on something else.”

“I’m taking yours to get inscribed, too,” Emilio said, pulling out on the street.

“Oh yeah? With what?”

“Bossy asshole.”