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

He took off Vars’s T-shirt, then opened first the buckle of his belt and the leather pants, his eyes fluttering shut when the familiar aroma of arousal mixed with leather hit him. It had become Jake’s personal aphrodisiac since he and Vars had started fucking. The boots were next, and he removed them with care, noticing that they could do with some polishing later. Maybe he could surprise Vars with shiny leather when he wanted to use them next?

“Good boy.”

The thrill those two words gave Jake wouldn’t stop being a surprise. Warm pleasure spread through Jake’s stomach until it reached his toes. He wanted to hug Vars, nuzzle his pec and bask in the glory of being acknowledged, but he obediently continued with undressing his… boyfriend? Master? Man? Trying to kill two birds with one stone, Jake leaned his head against Vars’s thigh as he was pulling the leather pants down along with the underwear. The bright light coming through the window was a reminder that this was not something to be ashamed of, that Jake was serving a man who deserved the recognition.

In this moment, almost naked and so calmly looking down at a kneeling Jake, Vars was every authority figure Jake had ever crushed on. The coach who made him come to training on weekend mornings. Chief Clover, who forced Jake into the back of the police car when he found him smoking behind the school. King, who took Jake’s virginity and then made him prepare food naked. He demanded respect, and Jake would be proud to be called Vars’s boy.

Vars contemplated Jake’s work in silence, but once they were both naked, he urged Jake to rise and led him back into the corridor. Every step toward the inconspicuous doorway that encapsulated Vars’s desires made Jake hotter. He didn’t dare say a word, and when Vars opened the room and walked him into the completely dark, windowless space, he barely resisted the urge to shut his eyes. Then the lights came on, and Jake stopped breathing altogether.

Brass-colored walls surrounded him from every side, textured with darker and lighter hues, as if this was a precious box that had been left unpolished for too long, reserved for dirty deeds that didn’t need to be shown to the world. Several full-length mirrors decorated the walls, and Jake exhaled in arousal when he saw their reflection in one of them. Vars’s big, masculine form was a looming presence behind his own back. He himself had a bright red flush running from his cheeks down his neck, to spread in the middle of his chest.

His heart rate increased, his body grew hotter, and he shuddered when both in the mirror and in real life Vars put his hands on Jake’s shoulders and kissed the side of his neck, rubbing the thick silvery beard along his sensitive skin.

It was only then that Jake took in all the things that had made him anxious about giving in to Vars’s fantasies. One of the walls served in its entirety as storage for various implements. Almost exclusively made of black leather, a collection of floggers, whips, and other equipment designed to torment hung tidily from hooks, while a long glass case with several shelves presented mean looking sex toys—everything from dildos and butt plugs to face masks made of leather and displayed on mannequin heads. In the corner stood a rack with all kinds of clothes, but Jake’s vision was getting too dark to take in details.

“Remember to breathe,” Vars reminded him.

Jake hadn’t even noticed when his inhales had become too shallow to sustain him, but the first deep intake of oxygen invigorated his brain despite the slight panic setting in his muscles. Another one of Vars’s kisses nipped on his neck, allowing Jake to relax, even if fear remained a constant presence at the back of his mind. Vars would take care of him. Even if there was pain to come, Jake could stop it with one word.

The small cage in the corner couldn’t scare Jake this time. There was nothing to be frightened of. He’d asked for this. He’d secretly wanted to try this all his life, and here he was, with a man who would guide him through the dangerous waters of submission and hold his head above the surface if he forgot how to reach safe shores. It didn’t matter if Jake went off course when Vars had the compass.

He took a deep breath and dared to have a closer look at the furniture when Vars gently led him inside, past a bench upholstered with leather. In the corner was a throne that would allow Vars a good view of his submissive trembling and twisting in any position offered by the bench, the cage, or even a giant X made of black wood, which had restraints hanging off it in a way that betrayed its purpose.