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Cal cried out as his hole was battered, the stretch and burn caused by Aodhan’s thick girth making his hands clench hard enough his knuckles felt like they would pop out of their sockets.

His wrists were bound above him, leather straps digging into his tender flesh, and the sound of chains clinking as he was rocked forward, forced to hang there while he was used, threatened to drive him half mad.

He’d take the cock over the awful sex toy that had been forced inside of him these past days—maybe even weeks—though. Just the thought of the anal hook had him clenching around that intruding member, causing the man at his back to moan his name and pick up the pace.

This torture had been happening on a loop ever since he’d foolishly goaded Aodhan.

He’d allowed stubbornness and fear to get the best of him, and it’d been a mistake.

A really, really bad one, because now his entire body trembled and ached.

Tears streamed down his face, most of them soaked up by the blindfold that had been tied around his face at some point.

Neither of his psychopathic captors had attempted to start a meaningful conversation with him since.

If Aodhan was there, he was either fucking Calix or prepping him for the hook.

Titus only made his presence known when he was helping Cal to the bathroom, which was an attached room of some kind, or treating his overused body with sun cream.

Sometimes he’d hold a straw up to Calix’s dry lips and allow him some water. There’d been no food—Not that he’d asked for any. He hardly had an appetite.

This couldn’t continue. He wouldn’t last, and for all he knew, they really would keep this up until he died and simply cut their losses.

Find someone else to take his place.

That thought shouldn’t bother him, but the tightness in his chest was too strong to ignore.

Too much had gone into tricking him here for it to be for something as simple as passing the time. He hadn’t been unlucky and stumbled into their trap. He’d been chosen. Led here for some reason.

But why?

Titus had been in the process of telling him, he was certain. If only he’d been open to hearing it…But he’d been afraid. Both of himself and of whatever the director had been about to divulge. Now, all he got was Aodhan at his back, mindlessly fucking him without explanation or warning.

Was this it? Was that the big reveal? Had they captured him so he could be used as their fuck toy?

Not that Titus had touched him so far.

It was either Aodhan’s cock or the anal hook with the bulbous tip inside of his body. Calix never got a reprieve, was always stuffed full of one thing or the other, as though the chance of him closing up and not remaining open for the next time Aodhan got horny was too inconvenient for the doctor.

The blindfold around his face kept him from seeing his surroundings, but Calix recognized the familiar scent of Aodhan, could place the sound of his footsteps whenever he entered and exited the room.

In the beginning, he’d attempted to get the doctor to speak, but he’d been shushed every time, and once Aodhan’s patience had worn thin, his aggression had grown.

Even now, Cal’s abused hole ached from the way the hook had been practically torn out of his body without preparation or proper lubrication. The doctor had spit on him a moment before spearing through him with his cock, but even that hadn’t been enough at first.

The pain, something he usually begged for, hadn’t been welcome this time, made sharper and less pleasant by the fact Calix had no clue what the hell was really going on.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he missed the old Aodhan. Missed the way the doctor had laughed with him and made him hurt for both of their pleasure instead of merely his own.

Cal had been used before, had been whittled down to nothing more than an object to fuck. It wasn’t being forced to take it that he enjoyed. He liked the possessiveness. Liked being wanted.

There was no passion in this, only Aodhan getting off. Sure, he made sure Calix came every time too, but all that was doing was making it harder. Making it more confusing.

Because Cal was starting to crave those moments where Aodhan pressed in close and nipped at his neck and wrapped his hand around Cal’s dick to pump him to completion. They were the most intimate parts, short and fleeting.

They made him want for something he shouldn’t…But his resolve was quickly crumbling and turning to dust.

How many times had he been fucked already?

Dangling from the ceiling like this? The weight was only taken off his arms when he stood on his tiptoes, or at times like these, when Aodhan took him and held him up with a strong grip on his hips.

As soon as the doctor finished, he’d pull out, replace the hook, and leave Cal struggling to maintain balance all over again.

He didn’t even get enough time to recover from the orgasms; his exhausted body pushed so far past its limits it was a wonder he hadn’t already passed out.

Hell, maybe he had and he just didn’t remember.

He couldn’t do it again. Couldn’t be left here like that. There had to be something specific the other man wanted from him, some reaction, or some plea. Which meant he needed to switch tactics before he got himself killed.

Cal had already tried curses and insults. Threats. Frenzied, panic-filled accusations. After the first couple of times being screwed on Aodhan’s cock like some blowup doll, he’d even begged a little. But none of that had worked.

His mind could barely hold more than a few thoughts before fracturing. The mixture of pain, pleasure, and fear gripped him too tightly for rational thinking to take root. And it was only going to get worse the more worn down he became.

There had to be something he was missing.

Something obvious.

The doctor had lured him here, to his home, but he’d waited until the end of the case to do it. Even though he could have easily invited Calix over before then, when the two of them were hooking up on the sly.

Why? Had he merely waited to avoid the chance of anyone coming to look for Cal?

He’d quit the I.P.F. after the case had wrapped, but they’d been expecting him to return to his base to turn in his blaster and clear out his desk and apartment.

He should have arrived days ago, and yet the doctor hadn’t mentioned anything about anyone looking for him.

“Aodhan,” Calix desperately tried again, his hoarse voice barely audible over the sounds of the clanking metal and the rutting man behind him. “Stop.”

“Going to lie again and say you don’t like it?” The doctor snorted and the reached around to cruelly flick Cal’s weeping dick. “This says otherwise, baby. So does the mess you’ve already made on the floor.”

Did that mean no one had bothered to clean up the spunk on the ground? How was that his fault? It wasn’t like he’d asked to come fifty million times!

“Damn it,” Calix cursed and felt his resolve completely vanish. “If I hadn’t liked you, I never would have come here in the first place.”

Aodhan instantly stilled.

“I was going to leave. But I had to see you first. I was hoping…Good Light. I was hoping we could stay in touch. I wanted to keep seeing you. I didn’t want this to be over.”

The doctor seemed to process his words before he twisted Calix’s nipple hard enough to make him gasp.

“That’s all past tense, Detective,” Aodhan said.

“I liked the guy who gave a shit about me and wanted me,” Cal stated. “Not the one who’s been using me like his own personal fleshlight.”

“Fleshlights don’t come too.”

“Aodhan. Are you really going to stay angry? I just told you what you wanted.”

“I’m not so easily satisfied.”

This wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Titus was right. Aodhan operated on instinct, not reasoning, which meant he wouldn’t let up until he wanted to.

Or…

Until someone else made him.

“Titus.” Cal was always too exhausted and embarrassed to talk to the older man whenever he helped him. That was most likely another mistake. But…what were the odds that the director was also in the room, watching? “Mercy.”

Aodhan let out a frustrated growl, but he didn’t start fucking into him again, remaining still with his cock buried all the way to the hilt as time seemed to freeze around them.

Calix held his breath, unsure what to do next or whether or not he’d done the right thing at all. But one thing was clear, even if nothing else was. Aodhan wasn’t in charge here.

Titus Mercer was.

A million and one questions raced through his mind, but Cal bit down on his tongue, forcing himself to remain silent until he was given a clue. Speaking out of turn now might set him back to square one, and he really didn’t want that.

“Well?” Aodhan finally broke first. “Are you begging or not, Detective? Want someone to save you from the big bad devil at your back?”

It was either the doctor’s way of leading him where he needed to go, or he was fucking with him in the wrong direction to be an asshole. Unfortunately, Cal was out of time and couldn’t waste precious seconds trying to suss out which way Aodhan was trying to play this.

“Yes,” Calix licked his dry lips, wincing at the cracked sound of his voice. “Yes, I am. I’m begging.”

“For what?” Aodhan asked.

“…Mercy.” That’s what the doctor had called him, Cal was sure of it. And not just about that, Aodhan had spoken to Titus with care and maybe even something deeper. Something that could be considered akin to love.

If it hadn’t come from a complete and total psycho.

Which was what Aodhan was. Only a psychopath would trick someone into falling for them, only to betray them like this.

And all while they had another lover on the side.

Or, that probably wasn’t accurate.

Judging by what Titus had told Calix, he was the sidepiece, not the director.