On Your Knees, Prospect (Kings of Hell MC 3)

Vars’s gaze froze into twin pools of ice. “I don’t need a fucking collar to have you lick my boots.”

The truth behind those words drilled into Jake like a jackhammer. Hadn’t he fantasized about that in the deep hours of the night? Hadn’t he thought of much more intense scenarios in the two sexual encounters they’d had?

“That’s what you think of me?” Jake was heaving, and the moment his throat convulsed again from the alien presence inside, he dropped to pick up what was left of the bag full of melting ice cubes. Their damp cold provided relief as soon as he touched the plastic to his neck.

“I’m almost forty. I’ve been doing this for a long time. I know what you want. And I know that you want to do the things I want you to do,” Vars said calmly, stepping closer to Jake, like a hunter approaching his prey.

Jake filled his mouth with the pathetically small pieces of ice as he eyed Vars suspiciously. “How can you possibly know what I want?” He stood his ground even though his whole being screamed for him to either submit or flee. Because fighting didn’t feel like an option.

“Because I still remember that you held your hands on that car even when you slipped. Because you thanked me every time I pushed inside you. Because I see how you look at me, Jake,” Vars said softly, slowly putting his hand on Jake’s nape and holding him in place. “And I want nothing more than to accept your submission, boy.”

“What would you do with it?” Jake whispered, daring to look up into Vars’s eyes despite the heat climbing up his throat now that he was out of ice cubes.

Vars squeezed Jake’s nape tighter and rubbed his forehead against Jake’s. Even in the vast room with high ceilings, the world closed around them, leaving them in their own bubble full of hot air that smelled of leather.

“I would take care of you.”

Jake stared at him, both stunned and frightened. He had no idea how he felt about that and let out a wary chuckle. “I’m not a baby. I can fend for myself.”

He had done so for a good few years now. Yet his whole being wanted to stay where he was until Vars’s arms tightened around him. Was this how people felt about their partners? He’d craved kisses from Knight, but with neither him nor King did he ever want to cuddle. This was different.

Vars didn’t laugh, didn’t try to undermine Jake’s words or mock him. Instead, he rubbed their foreheads together once more, this time nuzzling Jake’s nose with his as their gazes remained unbroken. “I know. You’re worthy of that patch, Jake. This isn’t about whether you’re capable or not. Just imagine how it would be if you could sleep in my bed. I’d give you the opportunity to serve me, and I would give you all the praise you need.”

Jake stared, imagining a world in which a man like Vars was the only one to give him orders. He would get up early to make sure Vars’s boots were ready and then suck him off to start the day well. He’d be ordered to kneel by Vars’s feet when away from his patch duties, and to be always ready and anticipating Vars’s needs, whether it was about drawing a bath for his master, or doing his groceries. Every task, Jake would perform knowing that there was purpose to it. He would only be able to get off if he was allowed, and when Vars watched TV, Jake would serve as his footstool.

Blazing fire exploded deep in Jake’s rib cage.

He stepped back abruptly, just in time to avoid torching Vars’s face with the inferno coming out of his mouth. It licked the statue’s paw instead, turning it coal-black.

Vars stumbled, and only a sudden twist of his body kept him on his feet. Wide-eyed, he studied Jake with his hands in front of his face, as if they could somehow protect him from the fire.

“Jake? You there?”

Fighting another fire-blowing spasm inside his body, Jake turned away from him, but it was useless when every cough brought painful tears to his eyes and yet more fire. He couldn’t stop it anymore. With a cry of anguish, he coughed up sparks into the air, as if there were a flint inside him. Jake turned to look the gargoyle in the skull-like face, but all it gave him was a grin full of mocking.

“Water, we need water,” Vars hissed. His gaze briefly met Jake’s, but Jake could barely see his face with the dark tears once again filling his eyes. Fighting for breath, he folded in two before sliding to his knees as the pulsing, thick substance poured out of him.

By the nearest window, Vars was struggling with the handle. He was now a dark shape against the pale background, and rushed into the corner.