Page 46 of Integrated (Mistress & Master of Restraint #11)

“Ugh!” Whitt ass-plants onto the sofa across from us as soon as the last of his party guests leave. “And that is why I left the castle– they call it misery for a reason.”

“Pretty sure we all felt that way after we left,” Cort mutters wryly. “Just be happy you never attended a MdJ meeting at Meyers Manor– that was pretty much how every meeting was.”

“I think Daniel and Priscilla are the only ones who find no misery at the castle, because they are not drama magnets.” Knowing how Daniel operates, more passive than people realize, he allows drama to wash right off his back.

“It’s such a relief how I don’t have to get into this shit on an hour-to-hour basis anymore. I shut and lock the door, and no one is getting in. How Niel handles it is beyond me. It’s no wonder he isn’t hitting you up for pharmaceuticals yet.”

“Do you want help cleaning up?” Cort asks, and it’s so dang cute that Whitt and I share a laugh at his expense. Like Cort was actually going to help. Well, that’s not fair. The old Cort was spoiled. The new and improved version does light housework, but never a dish.

“A few of the guys are coming back in the morning to put everything to rights. No way am I lugging the sofas and chairs back downstairs tonight.” Sprawled limply in his seat, Whitt is beyond exhausted. “Benefit to having so many siblings and in-laws and cousins and nieces and nephews… and fuck it they don’t all get up at the crack of dawn to help. Damn, Boyd is a motherfucking douche.”

“Is it a good assumption that Boyd doesn’t help?” I’m not ashamed of the smirk twisting my lips at the expense of our party crasher.

Boyd walked out of here on his own accord, but he was wicked pissed at his wife’s uncle. If Devlin wasn’t six-foot-seven and well over three hundred pounds, there may have been a cage match.

“Shockingly, Boyd will show up first. He’s not a bad guy all the time,” Daniel stresses. “But when he gets bored, everyone is fair game. He had a thorn in his paw tonight over something– Gretchen can’t be easy to deal with, so close to delivery.”

“Have you ever noticed how Boyd and Faith are almost identical in personality? It’s easier to deal with it if it’s from a girl–” I jab an elbow into Cort’s side, effectively shutting him up. He blushes bright red and mutters, “Sorry,” underneath his breath.

“Go ahead– I started it.” Whitt gives us free reign to bash his siblings. “Truthfully, I don’t acknowledge my mother’s side of the family much. Faith and I get along okay, I guess. I’m closest to Fate obviously. As for Bianca–” Whitt growls the name. “Once you get past Boyd’s prickly side and ignore his attitude, he’s not so bad.”

“I tease him because I know how he operates.” I stress, swallowing bubbles of laughter. “We’ve had some fun together, Boyd and I.”

“I’m the poster child for ending up with unexpected family as an adult.” Cort points at himself. “All that anxiety is worth it.”

“It’s hard, flipping that switch in my brain, because subconsciously, the only siblings I have are Niel and Ella. Gwen should be near menopause, so I won’t experience any more existential crisis, as long as Regina doesn’t give Marcus or Dad another baby in the next few years. Ya never know with how batshit they’ve been acting.”

“Your Christmas card list must be hella long,” Cort murmurs wryly with a wink.

Wide-eyed, Whitt just laughs over the circus his life has turned out to be. “And they just keep breeding– two nieces and a nephew will be born back-to-back. That’s a lot of baby showers, and because I’m gay, they think I want to sit around and eat cake and look at onesies. I know you guys are dads– hell, your son is my nephew and your kids with Katya are my cousins. I raised Niel and the girls, I’m done. No fucking way am I breeding.”

“Ah, done at twenty-five– the joys of raising your kids while young.” Deliriously tired, Cort turns on the snark. “I’m not going to baby-fever your ass, since we all know I love a houseful of kids. But you’ll probably change your mind in a decade or two. It’s not like you and Dalton are running on a biological clock. But I will join you in saying that the day Gwen goes into menopause will be a cause of great celebration.”

Whitt’s snort ricochets around the loft. “Seriously, when does menopause happen?”

My ironic burst of laughter takes everyone by surprise. “I don’t think anyone needs to worry about Gwen further reproducing.” That secret I learned on New Year’s was a doozy.

“Ah– this conversation again.” Dalton swaggers back into the loft after escorting everyone outside. Rich or poor, there’s always another and another conversation as guests leave. It takes us another hour after saying goodbye when visiting the Ramirez house. “Whitt even managed to get Syn to ask their mother if she was still menstruating, which occurred during Brooke’s baby shower.”

“Jesus!” Cort hisses. “Another ruined party?”

“Nah. Gwen is like Fate in one regard and Boyd and Syn in another. Gwen went with the flow yet thought it was funny.” Dalton dims the lights, then puts on some soft music, setting the mood. He’s a man on a mission to get blown, and it has the pulse racing in my veins straight to my cock. “Being sarcastic, Gwen promised to send out announcements when her eggs finally dry up.”

“Speaking of eggs, have you guys seriously thought about having kids someday?” Baby-fever? Cort perpetually has it. He would have loved the invite to the baby showers. We’re not pushing our luck with the mother of our children– he’ll have to wait for grandkids in a decade or two.

“I cannot wait to meet Brooke– she’ll be a part of each of us.” Dalton dreamily murmurs to Whitt, and he has that baby-fever look in his eye.

“I give Dalton five years tops before there’s pitter patter of little feet in this loft.” Cort breathes into my ear, making sure they can’t overhear. “So much for Whitt not breeding.”

“Yeah, that’s perfect.” Whitt jumps in to avoid disaster. “My sister and your brother made a child, and that’s all the DNA intermingling our genetics are going to receive,” he warns. “No more Spyder egg conversations– Marcus would geld me.”

“It’s a long-standing offer from Spyder. You’ll eventually change your mind.” Dalton sounds beyond confident.

“There are too many Whittenhowers as it is. Niel has us covered, so no.” Whitt softly admonishes. “And if you ask my sister what you asked of your own…” he trails off. “I don’t want to fight.”

“I don’t want to fight either.” Dalton stands with his fists curled on his hips. “I didn’t ask it of them– they both offered. Sebastian and Binks said they were fine with it if I wanted to do it the old-fashioned way– it’s not like we haven’t had sex before. We could co-parent, like Katya and the Ezes.”

“Whoa…” Cort breathes, eyes gone wide with fright, because Whitt is hella jealous of Bianca.

Shell-shocked, Whitt is rendered speechless.

“It doesn’t have to be now– I just need to know there’s a possibility of someday, even twenty years from now. Jesus, we’re only twenty-five. It’s a bit early for such a monumental decision, don’t you think? No kids ever? It’s the same reason you refuse to marry me. What if we change our minds in ten years? We’re not old enough to know for sure.” Dalton mocks Whitt, but his French accent is too thick to sound accurate. “Let’s wait and see where it leads is all you ever say. I’m sick to death of waiting!”

“Maybe we better go?” Cortez breathes into my ear, while tightening his grip on my hand. Having heard this same argument almost daily for months on end, I don’t budge.

“Stay!” Whitt calls out. “It’s because Ez is with us, so we slip into this bullshit, because he’s been counseling us on this for months. It’s the same conversation three times per week. It just comes out. Sorry.”

What Whitt doesn’t realize is how I hear it from both of them, separately and together. That is three sessions, three times per week. I could just about scream when they come in as a couple. I actually make Dalton talk about his grandfather, just so I don’t have to listen to him whine. But when Whitt comes in alone and bitches about Dalton’s whining, it makes me rethink my profession. I have no other direction to take Whitt, with no violent painful past to cover up the huge relationship roadblock in their paths. I hit upon mommy and daddy issues for my sanity’s sake.

“Sorry.” Dalton turns shamefaced. “We have two issues– Whitt won’t marry me, even though he asked, and he doesn’t want kids. Normally it’s okay, but with your wedding tomorrow and all these babies ready to be born…”

“Whitt.” Cort sets his sights on the man in question. “I’m not going to be tactful like Ezra is during a session. You’re eight years younger than me– learn from all of my mistakes. Don’t run! Get your fucking head out of your ass, or you will live a life of regret. Just say you’ll marry Dalton and give him a kid to call his own– it doesn’t have to be now, but you better fucking mean it if you say it.”

“I…” Open-mouthed, Whitt just stares at Cortez, because he’s acting uncharacteristically dominant. “I do want to marry Dalton. I would right this second if I had an answer on the kid thing.” Turning to Dalton, Whitt professes, “Can I just say how I want to marry you, that I can’t wait to be your husband, but I’m unsure about kids? Can I just say I’ll promise to think about it?”

“Just so it’s not a no,” Dalton softly murmurs, emotions hitting him hard. “I need to know you’re at least willing to hear me out in the future.”

“Twit,” I hiss into Cortez ear. “You just cost me like three-grand in therapy sessions a month.”

“I do a better job at your job than you do, shyster.” Cort relentlessly teases me, and then he does something that shocks the hell out of me. Moving fluidly, Cort sits astride my lap, then quickly kisses me. “I love you. I’m so fucking over the moon that we’re past all the shit they’re fighting about. It makes me realize how right we are for each other. Thank you for agreeing to be my husband.”

Reaching up to cup Cort’s face, I whisper so it doesn’t carry. “I want nothing more.” I pull his face down to mine, then let our lips mingle, just brushing against one another. The kiss may not be fierce or passionate, but it feels better than anything.

“Ahem?” A throat clearing has my eyes flicking open. Standing behind Cortez is a wary Dalton. “Sorry, I was being a bitch as usual,” he grumbles while looking over his shoulder. “Whitt loves telling me that anyhow. Um…”

“I do not.” Whitt walks over to stand next to Dalton. “No pressure, but we wanted to know if you were ready for your wedding present, because it looked like you were going to start without us.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Whitt looks down at Cortez and me. “I guess it’s more like you’re giving us a gift, if you actually think about it.”

Uncomfortable and unsure, they share a look, causing Cortez and me to do the same. The air in the loft heats, becomes stifling and suffocating with promise. I don’t say a word as I hold Cortez’s unflinching gaze. I don’t dare react, because I’m more interested in Cort’s thoughts and reactions.

My kink is analysis and determining the actions of those around me, then pushing their limits. I like to sit back and observe. I liken it to stirring up a hornet’s nest when there are a dozen people within its range, where I’m close enough to watch but far enough away not to get stung…

Undoubtedly, this tête-à-tête could sting me.

Leaning back on the sofa, I may look relaxed but inside I’m a ball of anxiety. None of us are acting as usual. Whitt is unsure, when being shy is so unlike him. Dalton is no longer insecure, instead going after what he wants, and he’s pushing hard for it. Then there is Cortez, wearing a serious look of determination. All three of them are innocent in this type of negotiation, making it intoxicating to witness.

“Here’s the deal.” Cort begins, shocking the piss out of me. He gets right down to business. He may be wearing a fierce blush, but he’s not wavering with his decision like I thought he would be. “We’ll suck you guys off, but it’s on one condition.”

Shocked senseless, I breathe, “What?” into Cort’s ear. “Shouldn’t I get a choice?”

“Six months ago, you were playing with them on a daily basis. I can pretty much guess what you’d want. It’s not like they haven’t already screwed you.” Cort challenges me while smirking. My blush is answer enough. “I’m willing to take Dalton on while Ezra plays with Whitt, but I just can’t do Whitt. Sorry.”

“Okay,” Whitt drawls out, sounding crestfallen. Eyelashes droop to hide those vibrant blue eyes– if a man can pout and still look manly, Whitt accomplishes it. Enough so that Cortez is blinking, no doubt rethinking his decision.

“Maybe if I’m really into it, I won’t see you as the kid I used to pick on, Pretty Boy. If I’m into it, I’ll um… see what it’s like to take you both on. But I’ll make the first move, okay?” Cortez stammers, definitely rethinking his decision.

“Okay,” Whitt replies, eyes flicking toward Dalton. I don’t need to know their special couple’s language, because it’s obvious he’s ordering his partner to make sure Cort gets into it.

All I can do is release uncomfortable laughter and sit back and let Cort do whatever. I’m good with anything. It’s like I’m involved but not. I’m actually more intrigued with their negotiations than the prospect of playing. Shifting on the sofa to make some room in my pants, because my cock is getting strangled, I put my arm along the sofa back, then fiddle with the ends of Cort’s hair… not a care in the world.

Bullshit.

“So that’s the plan, but Whitt has to make a promise, or my mouth is closed for business,” Cort warns. “In the next few years, one of you is going to make you both a father. If this is an issue for Dalton right now, then it’s only going to get stronger– the need to be a parent isn’t something you can will away. You’re just scared, and I understand it. Whitt, I watched you father Niel and the girls, so I know you want this as much as Dalton. That’s the deal– admit it or no cocksuckage.”

“I don’t want to win by default.” Dalton whines as he yanks Whitt toward the kitchen, where they continue their private conversation without us overhearing.

“You want a job?” is directed at Cort, because my tongue is tied when it comes to sex.

Heart thudding in my chest, I’m dying to see what Cortez will do next. The man intrigues the hell out of me on a daily basis.

“I could use you on those old biddies who bitch about their worthless grandkids. You could set them straight. Just don’t offer them sexual favors in return. Hell, you could mediate for Marcus.”

Smiling brilliantly, Cort knows a compliment when he hears one. “That’s why Jacki loves me so much. Nobody gets Pa and Julio to behave like I do. Honestly, I just had this same conversation with Julio and Cory this morning for Jacki. Neither of them want kids, but I just had to try for Jacki. But those dumbasses in the kitchen do want to be fathers, that’s the difference.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Whispering in Cort’s ear, I draw him closer to me.

I never want to push Cort away for a few minutes of excitement. It’s just as exciting in our own bed. My hunger for this has absolutely nothing to do with myself and everything to do with Cortez, because I simply want to know how he’ll react to the stimuli. I want to see his face light up with arousal and anticipation. I long to hear the hungry sounds he makes as he swallows a monster cock whole.

Shuddering, I close my eyes against the images invading my mind. For a lifetime, I’ve only seen Cortez with women. Never once have I seen Cortez in his true element, where he unleashes his nature.

I understand Marc’s fear over all of us getting together, because if this goes haywire with hurt feelings, it will tear our budding family apart. But the one thing Cortez seeks more than anything else is trust.

We trust Whitt and Dalton.

We can achieve true intimacy with a friend, and it will mean more than a ten-minute quickie on the floor of Restraint’s dungeon. Cortez did casual sex with women and hated it– even a simple blowjob with Whitt will be more intimate than the sex was with dozens of faceless encounters. This is why Cortez is leery of engaging with Whitt, because he’s always wanted our Pretty Boy, to the point it scares him.

“Okay.” Whitt says as they both come to a standstill in front of us, blue and green eyes shine with unadulterated lust and excitement. Their skin is flushed a delicious pink, both softly panting from parted lips. For some reason, I find it unbelievably hilarious. Falling back on the sofa, I let the hysterical laughter flow.

“You look so fucking eager, Whitt,” I drawl out in between bouts of laughter. “You’re both as hard as diamonds.” Pointing out their bulging crotches, Chinos and boxers mean we can see the entire outline of Whitt’s cock. He’s pitching a tent worthy of a foursome sleepover.

Skinny jeans versus Dalton’s cock? That beast is victorious. The jeans are slowly unzipping themselves against the strain, which seems to draw all eyes. It’s impossible to look away, really. I squint, just making out a bit of flesh.

Fuck, Dalton is going commando.

They both ignore me while homing in on Cortez, because they know he’s the one in charge of the negotiations.

Whitt speaks like he’s ordering a coffee, not making a life-altering decision. “I agreed to give Dalton a kid within five years– the biological father will determine the donor. We good?”

“Damn,” is muttered in awe. “After countless therapy sessions… you must really want Cortez’s mouth wrapped around your dick, don’t you?”

“Ez, I’ve had a hard-on for you bastards since I could get one,” Whitt deadpans. “I knew I was gay the instant I saw Cort bending you over the sofa arm at Shadow Haven. I wanted to grow up to be you. I’ll do whatever I need to do to reenact that scene with you guys, only I get a starring role. Tonight’s just an appetizer for the future– I don’t even care that Marcus said he’d tear my dick off. It’d be worth it.”

“Yeah.” Dalton softly chuckles, flashing Whitt a loaded look. “Funny thing is, Marcus was worried about me being the bad influence. I only agreed not to get fucked tonight– I didn’t agree in the long term.”

“Marcus threatened you?” Disbelief and incredulity color my tone of voice.

“When doesn’t he?” Whitt sputters like I’m nuts for not realizing this sooner. “We got a deal or not?”

“Just remember I said I wasn’t sure about touching you.” Cort reiterates, obviously wavering after Whitt’s confession. It’s already apparent Cort is going to give in, especially with the way his exquisiteness is testing the tensile strength of linen trousers.

Undeterred, Whitt purrs to a stunned Cortez. “Here’s our counteroffer, stud. We’ll both become genetic fathers if you promise to just try. You can even play with Dalton first, but I want you to suck my cock for at least ten seconds.”

“Ummm… okay.” Suddenly hit with an inconvenient case of shyness, Cort hides his blushing face against my shoulder.