Revived (The Dungeon Black Duology 2)

Goddamn it. He shouldn’t want that kind of shit at all, regardless of how perfectly they fit. Hell, in all honesty, what he craved with Sean was totally different anyway. Had nothing to do with being Dom and sub… and everything to do with being lovers. Fingers entwined, bodies flush under the sheets, grinning and kissing and… being happy.

Happy?

Seriously? Was he fucking losing it?

He knew better than to entertain such asinine thoughts. Because to do so, especially with the likes of Sean, was playing with fucking fire. Something Max had known on some level all along, but somehow managed to rationalize away. His talk with Chaz only bolstered the lie. The lie that Max could have himself some harmless fun until the time came for Sean to move on.

But fuck, after this last freaking session together, that game plan no longer felt plausible. Unsettled, he mulled over the last sixty minutes. He’d gone in with the intention of finding Sean’s weakness, then exploiting it until he’d shaken his foundation. Put doubt in the kid’s mind, make him question if he really wanted this, with the negatives outweighing the positives.

But that shit never happened. Not even close. And Max suspected it was his own goddamn fault. The way he’d eased Sean’s restlessness every time he started to freak. Kissing away his anxieties and trepidations. Which Max shouldn’t have done. He just hadn’t been able to help it. His boy had needed him, so he’d been there for him. The most instinctive reaction he’d ever experienced, and one that brought very effective results.

Because, yeah, once he’d helped Sean to find his bearings, there was no deterring the kid after that. Sean was in it to win it, and next thing Max knew, he himself was having the time of his life, forgetting his objective entirely.

In fact, truth be told, when he climaxed at the end, he was pretty effing sure he hit top space. Something he’d heard other Dominants talk about, but a phenomenon Max had never experienced himself. A state of mind like subspace, where much like a sub, a Dom’s head goes orbital, too. At the time, he’d just kind of gone with the flow, let the current just carry him away.

But now, looking back, he couldn’t help wondering the whys. Why such a thing finally up and transpired when Max had been domming for years. If he was going to experience such a thing at all, wouldn’t he have done so by now? He thought about the men who’d spoken of the occurrence. None had been Dom’s for hire like Max. It’d been with their personal subs or slaves. With individuals they were connected to. Romantically. Which honestly, Max supposed made sense. Sex and orgasms were always better when experienced with a person one cared about. Even Max knew that, despite the fact that it’d been over a decade since he’d fucked someone he’d actually loved.

So then why did it suddenly happen to him now? Was he way more emotionally attached to Sean than he realized? Oh, Jesus. What if Chaz’s initial suspicions were right. What if Max was getting sucked into this shit, too? What he’d feared from the beginning, then convinced himself wasn’t the case. That the cause of this effect Sean had on him was based on something else. Something precarious, dangerously addicting, under the façade of a stupid flawless fit.

Max bit back a curse as he stomped down the stairs. Son of a motherfucker, that better not be the case. That all this time his feelings had been steadily growing. Just like Sean’s so obviously were. Hell, Sean had all but gotten on his knees tonight, imploring Max to give them a shot. A shot at something more than client and provider. And truth be told, that prospect had been far too enticing. It’d also been revolting as fuck.

Good God, Max was one messed-up head case and more.

But shit, when Sean peered up at him with those big midnight blues, after such an incredible sexual experience between them? When Max had made Sean lose his ever-loving mind, and Sean had made Max nearly lose his, too? He’d felt so connected to the kid. At least for a little while. Until the memories won out and hurtled him back to the past. Back to Kevin. Back to hell. Yeah. No, thanks. I’ll pass.

Not that he wouldn’t have come to the same conclusion after Sean flat-out fucking told him to be brave.

He bristled at the memory as he shoved into his playroom, utterly fucking appalled. What the fuck did Sean know about brave. He knew bold. He knew brash. But he didn’t know brave. But Max did. Had been practicing that shit for ages. When his dad went away, when his mom needed his support, then when Kevin lacked the courage and Max provided it. For both of them. He’d been brave for both of them. But that hadn’t been enough. And it wouldn’t be now, either.