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The wolf in his foyer is rugged and strong. His shoulders are as wide as the doorway, his grizzled beard unshaven, his body thick enough that he’ll stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Jacaerys’ dad and give the former linebacker a run for his money.
“You’re perfect,” Jace purrs, welcoming him in. “I have your collar just this way.”
Cregan works his jaw, as though he wants to respond in a way he know won’t be accepted, but ends up nodding as he follows Jacaerys through the penthouse. “Thank you, sir.” The man’s voice is deep and throaty—gruff in a way that goes straight to the twink’s dick and nearly distracts him.
Nearly.
“If we’re going to pretend we’re madly in love, I don’t think ‘sir’ is the term to address me with,” Jace replies. “It’s too formal.”
“Won’t having your cock shoved down my throat in front of your friends send the same message?” Cregan shoots back.
Jace throws his head back with a laugh. “You’re not just my sub. You’re also the love of my life.”
“Do you collar all of the men you fall madly in love with?” Cregan’s question is brusque, like it’s slipped out without permission.
Jace grins, glancing over his shoulder at the wolf whose gaze is now glued to the floor, as if the dragonglass tile is a fascinating sight. His huge frame is hunched over a little, submissive even when he’s talking back…and Jace can’t deny that it’s an attractive sight. “Do you get punished every time that you agree to escort twinks to events?”
Cregan shudders. “Am I to be punished already?” His pants don’t reveal much, but there’s a little bulge already. He licks his lips, keeping his eyes down, and Jace nearly groans.
His own cock is swelling up, there’s no denying it. In fact, if he’s honest, he’s already wondering about their timing. Wondering if there’s enough room between now and when the car will arrive to slip a cage onto his pet for the evening before they leave. “I’m not sure,” he purrs, enjoying how responsive his new wolf is. “Do you know how to say you’re sorry?”
The man clears his throat. “Apologies—”
“Daddy,” Jacaerys supplies. “You can call me daddy.” He picks up two collars, then, and allows the man he’s hired to act as his boyfriend for the evening to choose.
“Is that Valyrian steel?” Cregan asks, his silver irises flashing with interest.
“Yes.”
Cregan licks his lips. “I’ve never worn Valyrian steel.”
“If you’re a good boy, I might let you keep it for longer than one night,” Jace murmurs, setting aside the other option and moving closer to where his escort is standing. “On your knees.”
Cregan was the top recommendation from the service Jacaerys contacted, and so it’s no surprise that despite his mouthy start, he drops down without further complaint. He tilts his head back, exposing his throat to Jace, and parts his lips, his breath quickening just a touch when Jacaerys drags his fingertip down the stubble.
“So sensitive,” he remarks.
The sound that escapes from between Cregan’s lips is something akin to a whimper. It’s soft. Bordering on desperation.
Makes Jace’s dick even harder.
Jacaerys wonders what a big guy like Cregan is doing working for an escort agency that specializes in kink…but he supposes they have time to learn one another. So he doesn’t ask. He merely unhinges the Valyrian steel collar, wraps the wolf’s neck, and locks it shut, tucking the key into the pocket of his couture silk pants. “You’re beautiful like this,” he murmurs, tilting Cregan’s jaw up. “I can’t wait to fuck your face.”
-
“And who is this?” A surly tone demands. “Your new plaything?”
“Your timing has always been shit.” Jace sighs with exasperation as Cregan gags, the warm heat of the man’s throat massaging the tip of the twink’s cockhead. But it feels good. Really good. Like he could spend himself down the back of Cregan’s throat and leave his cock on the soft bed of the wolf’s tongue while he recovers, so he’s not in any rush to give up the warm suction.
Instead, he strokes his fingertips down Cregan’s jaw and murmurs praise.
Moans a little.
Bucks up into Cregan’s throat until the tip of his cock gags the man.
Then he takes his sweet time in releasing his hold on the Valyrian steel. He’d been quite close to finding his second peak of the evening, but he supposes that will have to wait. Still, satisfaction pricks at his spine when the man doesn’t stop blowing Jacaerys, even when the twink removes his fingertips from the collar, because the woman at the service was right.
Cregan really is a well-trained wolf.
Tears trickle down the man’s cheeks and his hulking body starts to shake between Jace’s knobby knees; his lungs tangibly greedy for oxygen as the wolf denies himself the right.
It makes Jace wonder how far Cregan would go.
If he’d allow the twink to choke him out.
It’s certainly an idea to ponder.
But the other big man in the room, the one at their elbow, clears his throat with impatience.
So, Jace tangles his long fingers into Cregan’s dark hair. “Enough,” he murmurs, tugging on Cregan until the wolf releases the twink’s cock, keeping his mouth open like a good boy even as he drools onto the silk of Jace’s pants, tucked just beneath Jacaerys’ balls to expose only his package to the room—a contrast to Cregan’s completely naked body.
Cregan gazes up at Jace through glossy eyes, a line of spit connecting them still. He looks so gorgeous like this—fucked-out and used—that Jacaerys wants to finish right then and there. Wants to spray his load all over his pseudo-boyfriend’s face and claim the man like the territorial bastard that he is. Instead, he leans down and drags his tongue over Cregan’s swollen lower lip, lapping up his own pre-cum and pressing a filthy little kiss to the man’s spit-slicked mouth. “You’re so good for me,” he says, quietly.
“Thank you, daddy,” Cregan rasps—such a contrast to the snark from when they met a few hours prior.
Jace ignores the choking from beside them and kisses his new baby one more time. Cregan groans, leaning forward to try to take a little more than he should when they have an audience—but Jacaerys doesn’t punish him. He’d be cock-drunk, too, if he’d spent the past three hours with one shoved into the wet choke of his own throat while kinksters reveled around him. So instead, he presses the tip of his couture leather boot into the space between where Cregan’s thick, hairy ballsack is resting on the cool tile of the club’s floor and where his long, fat cock is jutting upwards…a gentle warning.
A whine slips out from between Cregan’s lips; a high, desperate sound.
Jacaerys breaks their kiss with a grin. “You’ll have to forgive me,” Jace apologizes to their guest. “He’s so greedy.”
“I can see that,” the man murmurs. “Are you going to introduce us?”
“Perhaps.” Jace lifts Cregan’s jaw up, and strokes his fingertips down the stubble lining the exposed throat of his pet. Gods, Cregan is huge. His neck his thick, his traps are massive, and his body is corded in muscles that put the former linebacker beside them to shame.
He’s responsive, too. Obedient, despite how he first presented himself, because when Jace tucks his fingers around the Valyrian steel again and tugs, Cregan stumbles forward easily, laying his head against Jace’s inner thigh—panting all the while, still looking sinfully delicious as drool drips from his meat and from his mouth. Truly, he’s the debauched image of living, breathing hedonistic desperation as his silver gaze flickers hungrily to Jace’s cock before finally looking up at the man standing above them.
Jace grins. “Baby, say hello to my father.”