Page 85 of Shadow Waltz
His answer was a whimper, a gasp, a helpless rutting into my grip.
Troy knelt behind him, spreading Ash’s knees wider, his own cock pressing against Ash’s bound thighs. “He wants it,” Troy growled, one hand stroking himself, the other sliding possessively over Ash’s hip.
I smirked, twisting my grip just enough to make Ash gasp. “You want us both to watch you fall apart?”
He nodded, desperate, hips thrusting in the air. “Please, Luka—please, let me?—”
“Not yet,” I hissed, letting go and stepping back, wiping the slick from my hand across Ash’s lips. “You’ll come when I say, and not a second before.”
Troy leaned in, licking the salt from Ash’s mouth, the chain rattling as Ash tried to pull away, humiliated and desperate. Troy’s other hand wrapped around Ash’s cock, stroking him—slow, firm, relentless, bringing him to the very brink and then stopping, edging him mercilessly.
Ash was panting, tears streaming, his cock throbbing, so close to release he was shaking.
“Look at Troy,” I commanded, forcing Ash’s chin up. “Look at what you do to him. You see how hard he is? That’s all for you. That’s what happens when you obey.”
Troy groaned, precum dripping from his cock onto Ash’s bare thigh. “He’s so fucking pretty like this, boss. Let me—please, let me?—”
“Not yet,” I said, voice a razor, enjoying the agony in both their faces. “We’re going to make him beg for it. Make him prove he knows who owns him.”
I let my fingers play with Ash’s nipples, pinching, twisting, making him cry out. Troy pumped Ash’s cock, stopping just as he was about to come, denying him again and again. Ash sobbed,hips thrusting uselessly, chains clanking, spit and tears running down his chin.
“Say it,” I demanded, leaning in close. “Say who you belong to.”
“You—I belong to you, Luka,” Ash sobbed, voice cracked and raw.
My grip tightened in Ash’s hair, tangling my fingers at the nape of his neck, forcing his head up so he had no choice but to meet my eyes. “Louder,” I demanded, my tone velvet-wrapped steel. “Let Troy hear it.”
He tried, poor thing, but all that escaped him was a broken whimper—eyes glassy with need and shame, mouth already glistening. I pressed my thumb against his lips, forcing them open, and spat—slow, deliberate—straight into his waiting mouth. The spit slid down his chin, and I used my thumb to smear it across his skin, painting him with my claim.
“Don’t swallow,” I whispered, leaning in so only he could hear. “Hold it for me.”
Behind him, I watched as Troy’s rough hands yanked Ash’s hips wider, spreading him, knees trembling. Ash’s cock stood flushed and desperate, leaking and angry, a perfect pearl trembling at the tip. Troy pressed the head of his cock against Ash’s entrance, hot and throbbing, teasing, circling, until Ash arched, helpless and eager, driven by instinct and need. I watched Troy spit, the sound vulgar, saliva dripping down Ash’s ass to slick the way. I didn’t flinch. I wanted Ash marked by both of us—claimed and ruined.
I didn’t move. I watched, still immaculate in my suit, belt pressing tight across my own cock, refusing to free myself. “Open up for him,” I ordered, voice low. Ash did, whimpering around the mess in his mouth as Troy pushed inside, slow and steady, making Ash feel every inch. He was shaking—mybeautiful boy, stretched and gasping, held between the two men who owned him.
Troy’s rhythm was relentless, each thrust grinding and deep, filling Ash until he quivered in his bonds, body drawn taut and trembling. Every snap of Troy’s hips forced more spit and drool from Ash’s lips, strings of it mixing with mine and streaking down his chest.
I gripped his jaw, forcing his mouth open wider, and spat again—my saliva landing on his tongue, dripping over his cock, his chin, his chest. He was a mess, and all of it belonged to me.
Troy’s thrusts grew harder, sweat beading on his brow as his hand wrapped tight around Ash’s cock, stroking. “You want to come?” Troy panted, voice rough in Ash’s ear. “You think you deserve it?”
Ash tried to nod, tried to beg, but my grip on his jaw held him still, silencing him. I leaned in, pressing my lips to his ear, letting my words vibrate straight through his bones. “You don’t get to come. Not tonight.”
Troy’s fist pumped Ash mercilessly—tight, relentless, milking every drop of slick but never enough, always letting go just before the edge, leaving Ash aching, shaking, spit pooling in his mouth and streaming down his chest. Every muscle in his body begged for release, cock throbbing, leaking onto the expensive carpet, but there was never enough friction, never enough mercy.
Troy’s rhythm stuttered, his voice breaking. “Fuck—he’s so tight like this, boss.” He tangled his fingers in Ash’s hair, yanking his head back so he had to look at me, his eyes blown wide, ruined and desperate.
“Let him taste you,” I ordered, voice soft but absolute.
Troy pulled out, spit-slick cock sliding up, smearing over Ash’s lips. I grabbed Ash’s chin, forcing his mouth open, and Troy thrust in, burying himself deep, making Ash choke andsputter around the thickness, drool and spit dripping down his chin in a filthy, shaming mess.
“Good boy,” I praised, voice deadly soft, thumb stroking his spit-soaked cheek. “Show me how hungry you are. Show me you know who owns you.”
He gagged, swallowed, took every inch Troy gave, face flushed, cock straining uselessly against the chain, leaking helplessly. Troy fucked his mouth, hips snapping, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the suite.
But even as Troy used him, my hand stayed clamped at the base of Ash’s cock, squeezing hard, cutting off any hope of relief. No matter how close he got, I denied him, pressing my thumb into that sensitive spot just behind the head until pleasure twisted into exquisite agony.
Troy came first, hips jerking, spilling down Ash’s throat with a guttural groan. I watched as Ash swallowed, spit and come mixing, forced to show us both his obedience, his hunger. My suit stayed immaculate, cock trapped behind tailored wool, arousal visible only in the ruthless glint in my eyes and the possessive set of my jaw.