The Hunter (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (6 page)

“Of course I kne
w. I’ve known since moments after you did it. You were antsy as all hell, and then so was my father. Hell, I even understood it. What I can’t forgive is the shit you’ve said about me and Dexter. It was a onetime thing, and you’ve resented me ever since. Your guilt over the catalyst that began Marcus and your sexual relationship had held you in check for over ten years. But now you’re running around like a horny out-of-control teenager, just begging for my father to fuck you. It hurts to see you banter and play with my father. It’s like an endless cycle of foreplay that doesn’t move to fruition… but when it does, it will be explosive. And I’m jealous, deadly jealous. You should only feel that for
me
. Get Marcus the fuck out of your system, and then grow the hell up.”

Ezra
palms the back of my neck and pulls me to my feet. His grip is painfully hard and I know it will leave lasting bruises. He squeezes harder, causing a whimper to be torn from my throat.

“That hurts doesn’t it?
” Ezra growls with a scary calm that belies the fury radiating off of him as he squeezes my neck harder. “This pain is nowhere near as bad as the hurt I feel inside where no one can see it. I am gay and my partner denies that part of our life together. It would be different if you hadn’t been my lover since we could get an erection. You were my lover for years, but you always held a pivotal part of yourself back from me, now didn’t you?” Ezra twists the words, squeezing my neck harder, waiting for my response.

“Yes, Ezra,” I force out through the pain. I have to close my eyes because I’m so close to climaxing that I’m shaking. My knees are weak and the only reason I’m still standing is because of Ezra’s hold on me. Ezra dominating me while putting pressure on my throat always presses some kind of internal switch within me that I don’t understand. Ezra and I stand nose to nose, his hand gripping my throat as fury radiates off of him, and I stand here more aroused than I had been with Marcus in the woods.

“I understood why you denied me after what you lived through with Aaron and Ray. What I can’t forgive is that gay sexual contact isn’t an issue for you with Marcus. Which means it is about me… you have a problem with you and me being intimate together. I won’t hold it over your head if you are with Marc. But know that when Marcus tosses you back to me- your
ass
is mine.” I shiver from the threat, nearly coming. I know that Ezra isn’t threatening me- he is promising me what he will do if I’m with Marc, and he will do it whether I freely give it or not.

“We can do it as before, but I can’t bottom for you.” My voice is rou
gh from my suddenly dry mouth. I repeatedly lick my lips, and Ezra’s eyes glue to the action.

“Yeah, good luck with that. Marc is straight and he won’t bend over
, even for you. If you’ll bend over for him then you will for me. It’s nonnegotiable.” Ezra laughs and it’s sinister. I think he is looking forward to the prospect of me fighting him off. The bad things is, so am I.

I look in
to Ezra’s gray eyes and I’m thoroughly captivated, caught in his web of seductive control. Master Ez always has this effect on me. I hate being controlled. I abhor being told what to do, but when Ezra’s smooth voice rolls over me I melt for him. My fingers find the collar of Ezra’s shirt and I try to pull him to my mouth- he resists me and I groan in frustration.

“I want you,” I pitifully whine.

“I know,” Ezra purrs, a wicked grin spreading his lips, “and it’s about time you come to terms with that. I may not be here forever, and life is too fucking short to live in a constant state of misery.”

I pull Ezra
harder, and this time he doesn’t resist. Besides, he can never stop me physically. He might be pissed later, but I will force this kiss on him if I have to.

“I’ll make a deal with you and I’ll reward
you for it. Don’t ever kiss Marcus, and I will never deny you access to my mouth in any capacity. It was purely physical with Dexter and me. We were friends first, and we quickly satisfied our taste for each other- our curiosity. I know that is too late for you and Marc, there is too much history and real feelings. But save one thing that is just for me. Save something just for Katya, too.” Ezra’s resonating words flutter across my lips and I sigh loudly, knowing I will feel the sweet release of his kiss very soon.

“Yes, I’ll never kiss him
,” I weakly promise. “I don’t know what to save just for Kat,” I laugh. “I was completely jaded before she came around. And I’d like to be able to kiss my wife.” 

“Fine, just don’t kiss my father
,” Ezra exhaustedly sighs out. “There are things you and I can do that Kat can’t- don’t forget that.” His voice dips down, filled with longing and lust, emphasizing exactly what Ezra and I can do for each other that Katya never can- truly join as one in the most intimate of ways imaginable. Sex with a woman is sex or making love. For a man, allowing a man to enter your body is an intimate act built on a lifetime of trust… and it’s the trust that I have the most difficult time freely giving to Ezra.

Ezra presses his lips to
mine and I cry out in relief. My fingers tighten on his collar so that he can’t get away until I’m ready. I deepen the kiss by slipping my tongue between his lips, darting in to steal a hint of his intoxicating taste. I instantly go light-headed when I take a hit off of his taste. Ezra groans into my mouth, and I smile in triumph against his lips. His painful grip on my neck loosens and massages the pain away he caused. It may take me a lifetime, but I will remove the pain I’ve placed in his soul, even if it’s the last thing I do.

“I love you
,” I whisper against my husband’s lips. “I love you so much that it hurts me.”

“I know
,” Ezra says without a hint of arrogance, pure surety. He tenderly cradles my face in the palms of his hands while gazing into my eyes. Ezra reverently breathes, “I love you, too… Are you coming to bed?” His eyes and voice are hopeful.

“No, not yet,” I pause when Ezra’s
face falls from disappointment. I tenderly caress his cheek. “I have to say goodnight to the kids first. I’ll meet you both up there.”

Ezra’s
face glows with pride and happiness. I’d love to think it’s because I’m joining him in our bed, but it’s the children. They are his pride and joy and it makes me love him all the more.

I kiss Ezra
one more time, and then rush for the staircase. I feel lighter and I’m not sure why. The guilt is released as I walk to the kids’ rooms- the guilt I’ve carried for nearly ten years.

Cortez Abernathy
: Present
-Chapter Seven-

“Congratulations,” Marc beams up at me from his seat at my desk. “I know how difficult your struggles have been
with writer’s block. What changed?”

“I did,” I mutter
beneath my breath, but Marcus has unnatural hearing. He secretly smiles to himself, pretending he didn’t hear me.

“What is your newest project? The inspiration?” Marc stands from his seat and walks around my desk. Feeling raw and exposed, I stare at his thick arms and long to feel them holding me. My wife left our confrontation to wash her lovers from her skin while my husband is seeking the company of our host. I need something. I need something that is just for me, even if it’s just a few stolen moment of pleasurable comfort.

“I don’t want to jinx it,” I cockily say, hiding my self-doubt. I smirk, covering the pain and longing that is throbbing inside my heart.

“C’mere,” Marc tenderly orders, but it’s more of an offer with his arms spread wide in invitation. I hesitate for a fraction of a second too long and Marc’s smile wanes, sliding into a disappointed grimace.

“I’m not five,” I flippantly grumble while rolling my eyes. “If you need a hug, go crawl into your fiancée’s bed.” The animosity isn’t shaded one damned bit in my voice.

“Ah,” Marc huffs. “It’s going to be one of those nights
, I see,” he knowingly states.

“And w
hat kind of night is that?” I all but growl, knowing damned well what kind of night Marc means. The kind where I lash out until he puts me in my place. The kind where he forces me to submit until I take what I need and crave.

“Hmm… this would be so much easier if you would
just talk to me and let me hold you instead of complicating it with tantrums and bitchiness. It’s all a disguise, Cortez, and it’s exhausting.” Marcus runs his fingers through his glossy ringlets out of sheer frustration- frustration I cause. I hunger to pull Marc’s head down to mine and kiss him senseless. I know from experience that those curls feel like silk against my fingertips.

“I have no idea what you’
re hinting at,” I say with a snarky smirk to taunt Marcus. Disrespectful? Yes. Involuntary on my part? Hell, yes. I can’t turn this off even if I tried- it’s my protection.

“This is how it’s going to be this evening. I don’t have the patience nor the inclination to put up with your defeatist attitude. My life is in crash and burn mode as well. You and I could be adults and discuss our problems, hold one another, and then seek mutual rele
ase. But bratty Cortez is going to throw a shit-fit until I make him take what he’s too cowardly to ask for. So let’s skip the first ten steps of our hellish routine… lock the door and kneel at my feet, my naughty boy.”

Sick of pretense myself, I do as Marcus bids.
I swagger across the room with glazed over eyes and a brilliant grin on my face- both are genuine. I kneel at Marc’s bare feet, and rest my cheek on his jean-clad thigh. I inhale his masculine scent and something tight loosens deep within my chest. Marc reaches down and tenderly caresses my hair. I sigh into his touch.

A gasp is torn from my mouth
when fingers surround my throat and squeeze. “Do you want to suck me off, my naughty boy?” Marc asks, and he truly is asking my permission. I must freely and willingly submit. Marcus will never force me, even though the hunger is beating to be released- his true nature.

“Yes, Master,” I bashfully reply as I stare at his perfect toes.
I lick my lips in anticipation as Marcus slowly massages my throat, readying me for his oncoming assault.

“Why?” The curiosity in Marc’s voice throws me.

“Do you really not understand?” I mutter in shock. “I crave you- your taste, your scent, the way your cock slides down my throat. I hunger for the lingering taste of you on the back of my tongue for hours to come. That’s why… you needn’t worry about whether or not I want you,” I quietly speak words that I usually reserve for when I’m half-crazed out of my mind with lust.

“Is it just me, or do you also crave others?” Marcus prompts, squeezing my throat in warning. I’m not to deny him his answer.

“Feeling insecure, Marcus?” I laugh at the thought of the Master of our Universe ever feeling insecure.

“And if I am?” A black eyebrow pops in silent challenge. “Answer me. Do you crave others?”

“You know I do,” I mumble.

“Who?”
Marcus’ eyes blaze amber fire- he will not be denied any request tonight. Whether I submit or not, he will get what he wants, when he wants. Something is going on with him- weakening his control. I only wished it was me putting him off kilter. I’d rather enjoy his true nature being unleashed on me- fuck, I fantasize about it.

“Ezra,” I readily admit, and Marcus relaxes because I’m no longer pressing his domination button
with my defiance.

“Anyone else?” Marcus prompts while soothingly caressing my throat with his warm palm.

“Not really,” I admit with a shrug, and it’s the God’s honest truth. I’ve never said it out loud, but I’ve never wanted anyone besides them, not really.

“On a scale, who gives the best head? Ezra? Me? Roman?” I gasp when Marcus brings up our one and only time together. It was a drunken night and we were all feeling down on ourselves- all of us Regina’s victims. Roman and I found ourselves in a similar position as I now rest, both of us worshipping our master’s cock. Afterwards, Marcus sucked Roman off and I had the pleasure of Roman’s mouth. Later, Marcus sat out while I had to kneel at Roman’s feet. It was odd, and we never explored it again.

“There is no contest,” I grumble, thoroughly annoyed. “I don’t let Ezra suck me off unless it’s under duress,” I pointedly say, stressing that Marc’s fiancée is a traitorous bitch. All the blow jobs Ezra has given me were at Regina’s twisted request, or not so request, as in completely forced- like she held me down while Ezra sucked me off. “You’ve only gave me a two second suck to get me ready for Ezra, and Roman was inexperienced.”

“No, not who sucked you best
, since you have a phobia about reciprocation. Who did you enjoy giving head to the best?” The glitter in Marc’s eyes signals he’s up to something that has nothing to do with his failing insecurity. He’s backing me into a trap I’ll have to chew myself out of, all because I denied his gracious attempt at affection. Never, and I mean never, deny Marcus anything. Ezra and Marcus may not be blood related, but their personalities sometimes mirror one another. It’s a lifetime of rewards and punishment… a lifetime.

“Ezra,” I admit without hesitation. “Ezra will always get top billing in all things. But in this, you are about as close to p
erfection as it possibly gets. Roman is trailing the pack.”

“And your wife,” Marcus purrs, trap set so firmly around my balls that I’ll never be free with my manhood
still intact. “Where does our
sweet
Katya lie?” Marcus says sweet as if he means ruthless. “Do you enjoy the taste of Kat’s pussy? The silky feel of her juicy flesh versus the hard strength of a pulsating cock… Better than Roman or not?”

“Fuck,” I breathe. “Not,” I mouth, but the manipulative rat bastard read my lips. He joyously smiles, knocking me down to the level of his cocksucking bitch.

“Since I place Katya as the third best blowjob of my existence. That girl has the suction of a vacuum cleaner and the gag reflex of a porn star…” Marcus praises while joyfully laughing. I shiver from the sheer pleasure of the sound. “Regina is in second place. Two of my three are women… because I am straight. But you, my cocksucking friend, have no women in your top three, and one of the men was a bumbling idiot when it came to servicing a male… and that was after my instruction. Interesting… interesting.”

“Shut up,” I snarl, wanting to rise to my feet and put us on an even level, but knowing never to attempt. Lesson learned- multiple times and in a myriad of
creative fashions. Marcus is so
sweet
.

“Undress me,” Marcus’ order comes from left field, leaving me confused, just as he
had intended. “Completely. I’m in the mood to be naked.”

“Oh, God,” my voice quivers. Reward. We’re doing reward tonight. I truthfully answered him and he’s rewarding me. Marcus never explains his questions nor my answers. But both are always for my benefit. Later, when I least expect it, the solution will be revealed. It’s maddening.

I slowly rise, and with shaking fingertips, I pull my master’s t-shirt from his chest. My mouth drops open and saliva rushes to assist my freshly dry mouth. Nothing, no one on this planet is as gorgeous as Marcus, not even Ezra. But then there is no comparison. The light and the dark. The ethereal and the exotic. But there is no contest on the ass. I would kill to possess Marc’s ass… in all ways.

“Shit,” I hiss, dro
pping Marc’s shirt as if it had burst into flame.

“Yes?” Marcus teasingly purrs. Amber eyes track every expression that flashes across my face.

“I know what you were getting at,” I grumble. “Fuck.”

“
Hmm…” the seductive timber of Marc’s voice almost re-drops me to my knees. “Care to share with the teacher?”

“Not really,” I mumble, refusing to share the thought with myself, let alone with the arrogant Master awaiting his pleasure.

“Oh, Cort,” Marcus heartily chuckles, causing me to clutch his chest to stay upright. That sound is pure ecstasy, a shot of hot lust to the groin. If my dick wasn’t already pulsating, Marc’s laugh would do it. Hell, I’m nearly coming from the joyous sound.

I busy myself by undressing Marcus, trying to ignore the hunger that coils in my mind and cock. Hunger for the comfort and connection, the emotion, and the knowledge that Marcus will give me anything I want within reason as long as I ask for it… and he may or may not make me beg before he give
s it to me. Which is exactly what I crave.

My knuckles graze Marc’s flesh and electrical sparks sh
oot along my neural-pathways. Marcus shivers beneath my touch, but I’ve never elicited the reaction in him that he elicits in me, and that was the whole point of Marc’s question and answer session.
What does Cortez Hunter want?
I’m pleading the fifth on that one.

I retake my favorite position at my master’s perfect feet. I rest my cheek on his bare thigh, the coarse hairs tickle my skin. I longingly stare at the proud, thick length that eagerly
juts out from between his hips. Usually Marcus points straight out, but tonight he is more excited than usual. His cock is tight to his belly, awaiting my mouth.

“Do you want to suck me?” Marcus tenderly asks, no trace of demand.

“Please,” I shamelessly beg, my fingers curling around my thigh, nails digging into the fabric of my pajama pants.

“Good,” Marcus growls in satisfaction. “Promise me something first,” he lures me into
yet another trap, but I gladly ensnare myself.

“Anything, Master,” I dutifully reply, licking my lips in anticipation as I gaze in wonder at
my prize. A drip of precum plops to my cheek and I whimper from hunger.

“No tasting that… yet,” Marcus warns. “You must get your husband away from my kids.”

“What?” I grunt, totally thrown by the direction of his request. “Spyder is Ezra’s sister.”

“No,” Marcus croons, fingers curling around my throat. “Regina is to be my wife. And all of this shit is driving me insane. Spyder is my only blooded child, but I see Ezra and Dalton as my own, just as Spyder needs them to be. When Regina and I marry, we become a
very large, complicated family. Ezra, Spyder, Dalton, Niel, and Ella will be siblings, with Whitt by default. Zane, Ava, Azriel, and Baby Ez will be our grandchildren. Having Ezra counseling and playing around with Whitt and Dalton is incestuous in my eyes. I need them as brothers, not lovers.”

“How?” I groan in agony. “Don’t you thi
nk I hate it as much as you? I’m a jealous bastard, after all.”

Amber flame pins me into immobility. I stare up at my master, awaiting his command. He holds my eyes as his palm soothingly slides up and down my throat, teasing me into submission. A gasp is torn from my throat when his fingers clench and press.

“Why do you love being choked?” Marcus asks out of curiosity while his fingers tighten to painful levels that have me on the edge of release. “Is it similar to being deep-throated?”

Marcus’ hold releases at once, the blood flowing to long-denied flesh. I sag against his thigh, hazing, slowly sliding into subspace. Marc wants me pliable and compliant, and he’s got me there.

“I don’t know,” I audibly swallow. “And yes, it’s why I love deep-throating so much. It’s similar. The fear, the blackness slowly closing in around the edges of my vision. The light-headedness and the rush of adrenaline as my body fights to survive. Yeah,” I grunt as my cock goes into hyper-drive, pumping out semen without an orgasm until the front of my pajama pants are saturated.

“You are the best cocksucker on this planet as far as I’m concerned. Not only do you excel, you are enthralled every second. Nothing is as bad as a blow job by a reluc
tant lover. You can feel how much you revel in the act. It’s intoxicating,” Marcus says in awe. His voice is deep and low and filled to the brim with lust.