Just a Bit Captivated, page 8
“I’m waiting,” Zain said evenly.
Was that triumph in his expression? The asshole was trying to freak him out. Fuck that.
Aiden turned, walked to the bed, and did as he was told, ignoring the voice at the back of his mind that was screaming at him to stop and walk out of this room while he still could.
“Now what?” he said defiantly, his voice shaking only a little. There were mirrors in the headboard. He could see his own wide-eyed face in them. Aiden dropped his gaze and stared at the bedspread. White. It was white.
The silence was starting to make him nervous. When was Zain finally going to admit that he was bluffing? That repressed, closeted dick would never actually fuck him.
At long last, he felt some movement behind him. He could hear a drawer open and close.
There was the sound of something tearing, and then a slick sound, as if… as if something slick was rubbed into flesh.
Aiden swallowed, his pulse thundering in his ears. Was Zain actually…?
He attempted to look over his shoulder, but a firm hand pressed against his nape and held his head down. The pressure wasn’t forceful, but firm and commanding, and Aiden despised the way his body immediately went pliant, as if trained to obey its master. Its owner.
“Stay still,” Zain said from behind him.
“What—what are you doing?” Aiden whispered.
“Doing exactly as you suggested.” Something blunt and slick pushed against Aiden’s asshole. “Making use of your hole.” Zain leaned his weight forward, his hand flexing on Aiden’s nape as something—Zain’s cock, holy shit—slowly, very slowly, inched into him.
Aiden gasped, his eyes widening in stunned disbelief. Zain seemed to have used an abundance of lube, so it didn’t really hurt, but the stretch was definitely uncomfortable given Zain’s size and the lack of prep.
Oh god, he had a cock in him. He had Zain’s cock in him.
Aiden breathed deeply and did his best to relax until he finally felt Zain’s clothed hips press against his ass. He was fully in, holy shit. Zain’s cock felt like a giant rod lodged into his ass. Aiden wondered why gay men did this all the time. How was this supposed to feel good? All it felt was uncomfortably full, like he wanted to take a shit.
“This is definitely not gay,” Aiden said with a laugh. “You’re the straightest man to ever straight.”
The grip on his nape tightened in warning, and Aiden shivered, hating himself a little for how much he enjoyed the bossy, grounding weight of it.
“You will shut up and take it,” Zain said nicely into his ear, his voice a little raspy as he pressed Aiden harder into the bed with his weight. “Like the good little hole you wanted to be.”
“Fuck you—” Aiden’s words turned into a startled moan when Zain shifted his hips, his cock rubbing right against his prostate.
“You were saying?” Zain ground out, pulling his cock out and slowly thrusting back into him.
“Congrats, you found my prostate—” Aiden moaned again as Zain gave another vicious stab against his sweet spot. “I still hate you. Asshole.”
“Do you ever shut up?” Zain said, biting his earlobe.
Aiden grinned dazedly. “Never, babe.”
Zain bit his earlobe again, his stubble scratching the side of Aiden’s face and sending a shiver over his skin.
Aiden turned his head, mouthing the corner of Zain’s lips desperately, wanting.
But Zain didn’t kiss him. He was breathing hard against his cheek, his thrusts becoming faster, his grip on Aiden’s nape unforgiving. Christ, it had no right to feel this good, not with this man. Aiden tried to appear unaffected, but he couldn’t seem to stop his hips from moving to meet Zain’s thrusts, chasing that delicious feeling of fullness. What had seemed uncomfortable a few minutes ago now felt like an itch that needed to be scratched, and he couldn’t get enough. His mind felt fuzzy, all other thoughts wiped clean other than the cock moving in him and the need to have his hole well and truly filled.
Before long, his state deteriorated to the point that Aiden found himself whimpering at every thrust, his overheated body pliant on the bed, unable to do anything but soak up the sensation of being dicked within an inch of his life.
God, was this how cock-sluts were created? Because he sure felt like one now. He felt like he would fucking cry if Zain stopped. He needed this, he needed this, he needed this—
And then the bastard pulled out. “Say it again,” he demanded, his breath hot against Aiden’s neck.
Aiden whined, disoriented and so damn empty it took him a moment to comprehend the words. “Say what?”
“Say that I own you,” Zain rasped out.
“Are you fucking serious? Move.”
Zain bit his neck, shooting a sensation of pain-pleasure straight to Aiden’s crotch. “Say it. Or I won’t give you my cock.”
Aiden shivered. “You own me, you self-centered dick. Now move, damn you. I wanna come.”
“Watch your tone. And you will come only if I let you.”
God. How did this horrible, infuriating man push every button he hadn’t even known he had?
“Please,” Aiden whispered, his voice small, raw, and terrifyingly honest. “Please, Zain.”
The man behind him went very still. He appeared to have stopped breathing altogether.
Then Zain gripped his hip hard and slammed back into him. Moaning, Aiden clutched the bedspread in his hands and held on as Zain’s cock hammered into him at an unrelenting pace, again and again and again.
Christ. So good. He’d never felt such a high. There was something about being fucked, about being used, submitting to this man’s strength and dominance, that felt so deliciously wrong and so hot. He was making sounds that didn’t sound manly in the least, broken moans and whines that he hadn’t even known he was capable of.
It took Aiden less than a minute of that to come, spilling his release all over Zain’s bed, pleasure making him see white.
He lay there in a pool of his own come, dazed, fucked-out and blissed-out, like a sex doll for Zain to use. And use him he did, for what felt like hours until he finally came, too.
Zain didn’t spill into him—he was wearing a condom—but Aiden could feel his orgasm almost as acutely as his own. He felt Zain shudder and shake, a low growl leaving his throat, barely audible but raw, before he fell on top of Aiden, breathing hard, still mostly clothed.
Aiden forced his eyes open and breathed, too, trying to regain a semblance of control. His body felt weak like a kitten’s, unable—unwilling—to move. He felt at peace exactly where he was: under Zain, with Zain’s cock still inside him.
Oh god.
Had he really allowed Zain to do it?
He had.
While Aiden would have liked to deny it, he couldn’t even pretend in his mind that Zain had forced him. Aiden had known that if he had said no and walked out, Zain would have let him. But he hadn’t.
What now?
How was he supposed to act now that he’d willingly—and enthusiastically—had full-on penetrative sex with the man who had bought him? Bought him for his little brother.
Zain pulled out of him, and Aiden hissed, aching in places he never had in his life.
Slowly, he turned onto his back and sat up.
Zain looked up from fixing his fly.
Their eyes met.
Later, Aiden would try to convince himself that it was a deliberate plan he’d come up with to manipulate Zain. But that would be a lie.
The truth was, his body moved before he could stop it. He got to his feet, he stepped forward, his arms wrapped around Zain’s neck, and…
And Aiden kissed him.
It was a gentle, chaste kiss, but it made Aiden shiver almost violently with the need to deepen it. He didn’t, keeping the contact of their lips barely there. Oh god.
Zain’s body was absolutely rigid against him. For a long moment, he didn’t move.
Then his hand came up and wrapped around Aiden’s throat. “What do you think you’re doing?” Zain said, his breath brushing against Aiden’s lips.
Aiden lifted his gaze to his eyes and smiled. “It was a kiss. I had fun. Let’s do it again sometime.”
Zain stared at him.
Aiden’s smile widened. God, there was nothing he enjoyed more than befuddling and frustrating this man. “What? No one ever kissed you after sex before?”
“You’re unbelievable.”
Grinning, Aiden patted him on the cheek. “What, did you seriously expect me to be freaking out over this? I did tell you that I wanted you, remember? I’m an honest guy.”
Zain bored his eyes into him. “I distinctly remember you telling me that you hated me.”
Aiden nodded. “I do,” he said amiably. “I do hate you. But it’s just sex. Sex means nothing. I can hate you and happily let you fuck me every day.”
Zain’s expression became tight. “I have no intention of fucking you again. This was—I did this to teach you a lesson. I’m not gay.”
And yet Zain still wasn’t pushing his very naked body away.
“Sure,” Aiden said agreeably, nuzzling the firm line of Zain’s jaw. Inhaling his scent greedily, Aiden murmured into Zain’s ear, “You sure taught me one. You taught me that I’m your thing. That you own me. That I’m yours to use.”
Zain’s spent dick twitched against his hip.
The hand around Aiden’s throat squeezed, the pressure almost painful, before Zain all but shoved Aiden away.
“Get out.”
Swallowing, Aiden opened his mouth but closed it when he saw Zain’s frosty expression.
“Fine,” Aiden said with a put-upon sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.” He darted forward and pecked him on the cheek, smiling sweetly when Zain fixed him with a cold glare. “Good night, babe!”
Grabbing his clothes from the floor, he headed out of the room, whistling cheerfully.
Once the door shut after him, Aiden chuckled before dissolving into helpless laughter, though truth be told, there was nothing remotely amusing about the situation.
He was half-infatuated with a closeted, cold-hearted man who refused to even admit that he wanted him.
“It’s just a silly little crush,” Aiden muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
Just a silly crush.
It was.
If it wasn’t, he was fucked.
Chapter Twelve
After some thought, Aiden decided that there wasn’t any point in moping about something he couldn’t change. So, he had a bit of a crush. So what?
Aiden wasn’t a stranger to crushes. His teenage years weren’t so long ago that he’d forgotten all the embarrassing, unsuitable crushes he’d had, starting from his mom’s best friend and ending with his brother’s very hot ex-wife. In hindsight, there was a clear pattern with his worst crushes: he always seemed to gravitate toward the forbidden. Luckily, his crushes had always been fleeting, and he had no reason to think that it would be any different this time.
His thing for Zain wasn’t the end of the world. He just had to wait until it inevitably passed, as all his inappropriate crushes had in the past. Nothing to worry about.
So Aiden was in a pretty good mood when he entered the dining room the next morning.
But his mood took a hit the moment he saw Zain.
He’d thought he was prepared to deal with his silly crush.
He wasn’t.
Even looking at Zain was disorienting, Aiden’s emotions contradictory and confusing.
Zain was seated at the head of the table, mouthwateringly handsome as usual. His black hair looked soft and gorgeous, a striking contrast to the white thobe that hugged his wide shoulders and fit arms. Zain was sipping his tea, his eyes fixed on the paperwork in front of him, his fingers absently stroking his chin.
Aiden still felt the same burning dislike and resentment when he looked at him. This man was still his captor. He was still the same arrogant dick he’d come to hate. Aiden hadn’t suddenly started liking him just because they’d had sex.
He just wanted to kiss him.
The thought—the desire—made him sigh inwardly. For fuck’s sake.
“Good morning!” he said, trying to ignore the horrible butterflies that were fluttering all over his stomach.
The asshole ignored him.
Aiden felt the familiar desire to introduce his fist to Zain’s mouth. Unfortunately, his desire to put his mouth on that mouth was far stronger.
“Back home it’s not very polite not to say anything when people tell you good morning,” Aiden said, walking closer. “Are things different here?”
When Zain finally deigned to look at him, his gaze was unreadable. He looked about as approachable as a stone gargoyle.
Aiden still wanted to kiss him. He wanted to touch him. God, this man was such an unfeeling, problematic mess, but Aiden itched to touch him. He wanted to slide his fingers under Zain’s impeccable white cuff and trace the veins and muscles of his wrist, feel his pulse beat under his thumb. He wanted to feel him up. Badly.
Aiden closed his eyes for a moment, exasperated with himself.
Maybe indulging this stupid crush would cure him of it. Overexposure was a thing, right?
“Are you going to stand there all morning?” Zain said. “Sit down.”
Aiden sat down.
In Zain’s lap.
“Hi,” he said, cradling Zain’s face with his hands and giving him a beaming smile. He knew his smiles annoyed Zain for some reason. The dick seemed to like making everyone miserable, so Aiden was determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing him scared and sad.
A muscle by Zain’s left eye twitched. “Remove your butt from my lap,” he said, in a suspiciously conversational voice.
Aiden might have been more intimidated if he hadn’t known what this man felt like inside of him. That knowledge was surprisingly emboldening.
“No thanks,” Aiden said. “I’m pretty comfy here.”
Zain attempted to dump him off his lap as he had the previous evening, but Aiden was prepared this time around. He twined his arms around Zain’s shoulders and clung to him like a baby koala, burying his face in Zain’s neck, as he resisted the attempts to dislodge him.
“Let go of me,” Zain finally ground out when he seemed to realize the futility of it.
Aiden pressed his cheek against Zain’s stubbled throat, trying not to breathe deeply. Jesus, how did this dick always smell so good?
“Don’t want to,” he said honestly before lifting his head. When Zain pinned him with an icy glare, Aiden gave him his sweetest smile. “It’s your own fault. You smell too good. Is this your aftershave? That would be weird because you look like you haven’t shaved in days. Your stubble is closer to a beard, which definitely didn’t used to be my thing—I always thought it was lazy, but you rearranged my worldview and apparently now I like it and it’s so ridiculous I want to bitch-slap myself—”
Zain kissed him.
Aiden’s brain short-circuited.
Zain’s mouth. Zain’s mouth was on his mouth. Zain was kissing him—if that even could be called a kiss. It felt more like an assault, aggressive and bruising, almost hateful. Zain crushed his lips, sucking hard and biting them, and then his tongue was practically in Aiden’s throat, as if he was attempting to choke Aiden with it, punish him for making him want him.
It was beyond overwhelming, it shouldn’t have felt good—it was objectively a horrible, selfish kiss, with no care for Aiden’s pleasure—but perversely, that only turned Aiden on. The force of Zain’s lust, the lack of control and finesse he displayed was more arousing than any soft, sensual kisses would have been. He even loved the feeling of helplessness, the punishing grip Zain had on his chin. He wanted to be crushed by this man, wanted to choke on his tongue and on his cock, and swallow every drop of his come, wanted this man to fuck him into unconsciousness, until Aiden was nothing but a vessel for his cock.
Christ, his own thoughts and wants creeped him out, but he couldn’t stop wanting that. Couldn’t stop wanting him. Wanting seemed like such an inadequate word for this all-consuming hunger, the desire to swallow, to devour, to consume.
He moaned in protest when Zain wrenched his mouth away. No!
“More,” Aiden said, kissing Zain’s jaw desperately. “Let’s fuck—please, please. I wanna fuck.” Wanna fuck sounded a lot less embarrassing than saying I want you inside me, which was what he really wanted. God, just thinking about the way Zain had felt inside him, huge and overwhelming, made his hole twitch and squeeze around nothing, eager to experience it again.
A strong hand gripped his chin hard and forced him to look at the other man.
Zain’s pupils were so blown his eyes seemed black as they roamed over Aiden’s face. “You have no shame, do you?”
Aiden kissed him wetly, needily. “What should I be ashamed of?” he said breathlessly. “It’s just sex. I’m not a homophobic dick like you. I can admit that I loved being fucked—being fucked by you.” Slipping his hand between them, he greedily palmed the massive erection tenting Zain’s pants. So thick. “You loved it, too. Your cock doesn’t lie.”
Zain gave him such a cold look Aiden would never have guessed that he was sporting an erection had he not been groping it.
“My cock likes a hole to fuck,” Zain said with deliberate crudeness. “I was horny, and you were easy and there. A convenient wet hole and nothing more.”
Aiden shivered, his crotch aching. Shit, he was discovering new—and rather mortifying—kinks he hadn’t known he had.
“Am I supposed to be offended?” Aiden said, stroking Zain’s erection. “Are you saying you’d stick your cock into just anyone? Should I fetch one of your employees for you?”
Silence was the only response he got.
Aiden smiled, feeling a rush of giddy triumph. Zain wanted him. Him. He might deny it all he wanted, but his body didn’t lie.
The sound of the door opening made his smile freeze.
Turning his head, Aiden saw one of the servants—Damir, if he remembered correctly—standing in the doorway with his mouth open and his eyes confused and wide.
