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"Here's how this works," he said, twirling the blindfold around his finger. "I'm going to take away your sight. And then I'm going to take you apart, piece by fucking piece, until you forget every boring, vanilla fuck you've ever had."

My mouth went instantly dry.

He stepped closer, the blindfold dangling from his fingers. "One more thing. Safe word is 'platypus'. Yell that, and everything stops immediately. No questions asked."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. "Platypus? Where did that come from?"

"What?" he shrugged, completely unapologetic.

"It's weird enough that you won't say it accidentally during sex, and have you seen those things?

Fucking unhinged animals. Mammals that lay eggs and have venomous ankle spurs?

That's nature's way of saying 'Fuck you.

I do what I want.' I respect the chaos."

Despite the intensity of the moment, I found myself laughing. The deadliest man I'd ever met had apparently given serious thought to the evolutionary rebelliousness of platypuses.

"Platypus it is," I agreed.

"You only use it if you mean it," he continued, moving even closer. "Otherwise, you take what I give you. And trust me, doc, you're going to fucking love it."

"Okay," I replied, with a shaky voice.

He chuckled, a low sound that dripped pure sin.

"Nervous, doc? Good. You should be." He reached up, tracing my lower lip with his thumb in a casual display of ownership.

"I've been dreaming of fucking you since the moment I saw you through my scope.

You have no idea the things I've imagined doing to you. "

The crude honesty should have jarred me, but after our conversation at the range, I understood its significance. This was Luka completely present, completely himself.

"Turn around," he commanded, and I complied without hesitation.

My pulse quickened, a pleasant shiver cascading down my spine as I presented my back to him. My skin prickled with awareness, hypersensitive to the air between us. Something in my chest loosened even as my breathing grew shallow.

I'd done some kinky stuff before—mostly light bondage here and there—but this felt different. More exciting. More meaningful. A warmth spread through me, pooling low in my belly, my cock leaking into my jeans as I waited for whatever he planned next.

His chest pressed against my back as he secured the blindfold. The silk settled over my eyes, cutting off my vision. My skin tingled, hyperaware of the air currents, of Luka's proximity, of my own thundering heartbeat.

"Too tight?" he asked, his breath scorching my ear.

"No."

"Good," he said, satisfaction rumbling in his voice. "Now, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to strip you down. And then I'm going to show you exactly why I've got a reputation for making people scream my name."

His hands spun me to face him. Though I couldn't see, his gaze burned against my skin, his breath fanned across my face. Then his mouth claimed mine, possessive yet reverent, tongue demanding entrance I eagerly granted.

"Trust me?" he murmured against my lips.

"Yes. "

He chuckled, the sound vibrating straight to my cock. "Good answer."

"Just don't forget," I added, unable to help myself, "that this chew toy bites back."

His laugh surprised me, genuine and warm. "There he is. I was worried I'd intimidated the smart-ass right out of you."

"Takes more than a blindfold and some bedroom voice to shut me up," I quipped. "Although I admit, the blindfold is a nice touch. Very supervillain chic."

He nipped at my lower lip, just hard enough to make me gasp. "Keep talking, doc. We'll see how mouthy you are when I'm done with you."

"Challenge accepted."

His hands moved to the buttons of my shirt, working them open. As each inch of skin met the air, his fingers followed, tracing patterns that caught my breath.

"You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you look right now," he said as I kicked off my jeans. "Standing here like a gift waiting to be unwrapped."

"Christmas came early this year," I quipped, my voice breathier than intended.

He snorted. "Speaking of coming early..."

"Hey! I resent that implication."

"Relax, doc." His finger traced the outline of my cock through my boxers. "I bet I could make you come just by talking to you."

"Probably," I admitted.

His hands moved to my hips, pulling my boxers down in one smooth motion.

His hands returned to my body, exploring. His touch ranged everywhere—skimming down my sides, kneading my thighs, cupping my ass possessively. Then, without warning, his hand wrapped around my cock, giving a slow, firm stroke from base to tip.

A gasp escaped me, hips bucking involuntarily into his grip. "Fuck, Luka."

His thumb circled the head, spreading the pre-cum that had gathered there. The slick glide of his next stroke drew a moan from deep in my chest. His other hand came up to grip my hair, tugging my head back to expose my throat.

"I love the way you say my name when you’re all horny," he growled, his mouth at my neck, teeth grazing my pulse point.

His hand maintained a maddeningly slow pace, building pleasure without letting me reach the edge. Just when I thought I might beg for more, he released me entirely, leaving me gasping.

"On the bed," he commanded. "Face down, ass up."

I fumbled blindly toward where I knew the bed waited, grateful when his hand on my arm guided me. I positioned myself as instructed, incredibly vulnerable, yet strangely empowered by my willing surrender.

The bed dipped as he joined me, his hands returning to my body, stroking from my shoulders down to the small of my back, then lower, gripping my ass firmly.

I registered him shifting, and then his mouth pressed against the nape of my neck, trailing kisses down my spine.

Each point of contact sent shockwaves of pleasure through me, my body arching into his touch.

I heard the snap of a cap opening, then the slick sound of liquid being poured. His slick fingers traced the cleft of my ass before circling my entrance teasingly.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he said, the tip of one finger pressing against me but not yet breaching. "How many nights I spent watching you through my scope, imagining you spread out for me just like this."

The admission, combined with the slight pressure of his finger, drew a desperate sound from me. My hips shifted, trying to press back against him, seeking more.

"Patience, doc," he chided, his free hand pressing down on the small of my back, holding me still. "We do this my way. Remember?"

"Yes," I gasped, forcing myself to stay still despite the desperate need building inside me.

"Good boy." The approval in his voice sent a rush of pleasure through me that almost embarrassed me with its intensity.

Finally, blessedly, he pressed one finger inside me, the intrusion careful but insistent. I moaned at the sensation, body tensing briefly before relaxing to accept him.

"That's it," he encouraged, working his finger deeper. "Take it. Take me."

He took his time, preparing me methodically but efficiently. One finger became two, then three, each addition stretching me further, sending sparks of pleasure radiating outward. By the time he deemed me ready, I writhed, begging shamelessly.

"Please, Luka," I gasped as his fingers found my prostate. "I need you. Now."

"I know exactly what you need," he replied, his voice rough with desire as he withdrew his fingers. I heard the rustle of clothing, then the distinctive sound of a zipper being lowered. My breath caught in anticipation.

"Turn over," he commanded. "I want to see your face when I blow your mind with my magic pierced dick."

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me even as I complied eagerly, rolling onto my back. "Magic pierced dick? "

"Hey, you're the one who called it a fidget toy," he retorted, his hands guiding my legs apart, positioning himself between them. "I'm upgrading the branding. Marketing is important, doc."

Though I couldn't see him, I registered the heat of his body hovering over mine, the brush of fabric against my skin telling me he remained partially clothed.

"Maybe we should get business cards made," I suggested, then gasped as I felt the blunt pressure of his cock against my entrance. The first hard ridge of metal made me lose my train of thought.

"You were saying?" He sounded smug.

"Shut up and fuck me."

"So bossy," he teased, but I heard the strain in his voice as he held himself back. "Ready?"

"Yes," I breathed. "God, yes."

He pushed in slowly, the first piercing breaching me with a strange, not unwelcome sensation. I groaned at the stretch, at the perfect fullness as he kept up his careful advance. Each metal ridge sparked a new point of pleasure as it entered me.

When he was fully seated inside me, he paused, giving me time to adjust.

"You feel fucking incredible," he murmured, voice tight with restraint. "Like you were custom made for my cock."

"Maybe your cock was custom made for me," I countered breathlessly. "Given all the... customization."

He laughed, the sound vibrating through both our bodies. "Fair point. Think of me as your personalized pleasure delivery system."

"Customer service is outstanding so far," I managed, then moaned as he shifted his hips slightly.

"Just wait for the full-service package," he promised .

His hips began to move, establishing a rhythm that hit every perfect spot inside me.

Each thrust dragged those metal bars against my prostate, creating sensations so intense I couldn't form coherent thoughts.

My vocabulary was reduced to single syllables and expletives, fingers clawing at the sheets.

His hand wrapped around my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual stimulation had me spiraling toward the edge embarrassingly quickly. My brain scrambled like static on an old TV, the signal of rational thought lost in overwhelming pleasure.

"Luka," I gasped, a warning that I neared the edge.