Textual Confusion

6. Im doing this.

CHAPTER SIX

I'M DOING THIS.

Sasha

I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this.

Why wouldn’t I?

Do I need to remind you of all the things that could go wrong?

Nothing will go wrong. Besides, you’re the one who told me the best way to get over Trent was to get under someone else.

I meant a random hookup! Not whatever this is.

This is the only way I’ll ever be able to afford my own storefront.

First of all, no. You’re super talented and I firmly believe you’ll accomplish all your dreams one day without having to resort to selling your body.

Ew.

You liked it.

Secondly, I’d be all for this if I thought you actually wanted to do it. But you clearly have feelings for this asshole, for whatever reason, and there’s only one way this is gonna end.

In me owning my own bakery?

No, in heartbreak.

And you know what happens after this asshole breaks your heart?

Danny inevitably breaks his nose and gets fired. You and I are both going to be jobless soon. Before you know it, we’re all shacking up at the same homeless shelter, begging for pennies on the street.

Well, at least we’re all together in that scenario.

True.

Seriously, though… it’s not too late to back out.

I’m doing this.

Asher watched as Sasha started typing a response, erased it, and started typing again.

In that case, I expect all the gory details.

Call me when you get home. Or else.

Or else what?

Or else I’ll come over there and pry you from Big Daddy’s hands myself.

Asher winced at the thought of Markus and Sasha meeting. They both had strong personalities, and considering Sasha’s current opinion of the man, they were bound to butt heads. Quickly replying that he’d let her know when he got home, Asher silenced his phone and slipped it into his pocket.

Then he returned to what he’d been doing before Sasha had texted him: staring out the car window.

Despite being surrounded by water, mountains, and evergreen forests, the city of Seattle itself was actually rather ugly. Downtown, especially. Gray business fronts and skyscrapers packed the streets, giving it an industrial, almost aloof-type feel.

Asher loved it all the same.

Luckily, traffic wasn’t terrible for a Friday night, and it didn’t take as long as he’d thought it would for him to reach his destination. Before he knew it, Nigel – Markus’s personal driver – was parking in front of the high-rise where the CEO lived in his penthouse apartment.

That’s right. Markus had both a personal driver and a penthouse.

Once Nigel parked, Asher moved to open the door, but the other man beat him to it. Nigel certainly wasn’t what Asher had expected when Markus had told him he had a personal driver. Instead of an elderly British gentleman with a distinguished mustache, Nigel was young and burly with dark ebony skin, a clean-shaven face, and a snake tattoo that peeked out of the neckline of his shirt.

He was also the picture of politeness, hence opening the door for Asher. He even bowed after Asher got out of the car, treating him more like royalty than what he actually was: a glorified whore.

Not knowing how else to respond, Asher bowed back to the man. Which was apparently a weird thing to do, judging by Nigel’s bemused expression. Nonetheless, the man led him to the entrance of the building.

“Thank you for the ride,” Asher managed to say in what he hoped was a normal tone before hurrying through the double glass doors.

There were guards situated on either side of the doors, but Asher must have appeared about as threatening as he felt (or maybe Markus had let them know he was expecting company?) because neither of them so much as spared him a glance when he walked in.

He just wished the secretary sitting behind the desk in the spacious lobby had gotten the same memo.

Markus had instructed Asher to simply inform whoever was behind the desk that he was there to see him and that they’d give him a keycard for the elevator. For security and privacy purposes, the elevator only opened to the floor the keycard was programmed to have access to.

Asher had been impressed when the man had explained it, mostly because his landlord’s idea of promoting tenant safety was installing bolt locks on the doors.

“Hello. May I help you?”

Asher glanced at the woman’s name, which was pinned to her blouse on a gold-plated tag. “Hi, Natalie. I’m here to see Markus – Markus Kingston. He told me you’d give me a keycard for the elevator?”

Natalie had a pretty face, but it lost its allure when she scrunched her brow and pursed her gloss-covered lips at Asher. “Mr. Kingston doesn’t accept unauthorized visitors.”

Asher blinked. “Um, okay. I’m sure that’s true, but I am authorized. He told me to tell you-”

“Do I need to call security?”

Asher felt his face reddened when she interrupted him. “Maybe you can buzz his room to confirm-”

“Do you really think you’re the first person to pull this act? Hm?” Natalie asked, voice practically dripping with condescension. “Well, I have news for you, sweetie. You’re not that slick. The last visitor Mr. Kingston agreed to entertain was his mother – and that was well over a month ago.”

Asher could only stare. “Should you really be sharing private information about the building’s tenants like that? Especially since you’re convinced I’m some sort of… what? Gold digger? Stalker?”

Natalie crossed her arms. “Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?”

Asher took a deep breath in through his nose to calm himself. “No. Look, can you please just call him? Markus will be upset if you send me away without-”

“ Mr. Kingston doesn’t like to be disturbed,” she once again cut him off, voice clipped. “And the only thing he’ll be upset about is that some tramp was trying to trick me into letting him up to his penthouse.” She reached down under her desk and pressed a button, which immediately made a loud buzzing noise. “Security!”

Asher watched with wide eyes as the two burly men by the doors turned their attention on him for the first time. “Wait!” he begged Natalie as they rapidly approached. “Let me call him then.”

“Ma’am?” The guards had come to a stop beside Asher, clearly asking for her input.

Natalie pursed her lips in thought before finally shrugging. “Fine. Let him call Mr. Kingston.” She snorted derisively. “This ought to be good,” she added under her breath.

Releasing a relieved breath, Asher immediately pulled out his phone and called the number saved under his contacts. Markus had better answer.

Brrring. Brrring-

Thankfully, the man picked up before it could ring a third time.

“Asher?”

“Hey, Markus,” Asher greeted, looking pointedly at Natalie.

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Where are you? I thought you’d be here by now. I called Nigel and he said he dropped you off ten minutes ago.” A pause. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“What? No. I want to do this,” he assured, and despite his reservations, it was true. “It’s just, um… Natalie, the secretary, won’t let me in.”

A pause.

“What?” Markus deadpanned.

Asher quickly explained his predicament. There was another charged pause, and then…

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

Dial tone ringing in his ears, Asher hung up his phone. He glanced at the expectant Natalie and two guards.

“Well?”

“He said he’d be down in a minute.”

The woman scoffed then looked at the guards. “Take him away,” she ordered with a wave of her hand.

The shorter one hesitated, but the other wasted no time gripping Asher none-too-gently by the elbow. “Let go!” Asher protested, trying to yank his limb free, but the man’s hold on his arm didn’t budge.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he advised as he pulled Asher towards the glass doors.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait to see if Mr. Kingston shows up?” the other guard asked nervously.

“I’ve wasted enough time entertaining this slag. Throw him out, and if he tries to come back-”

The ding of the elevator arriving interrupted Natalie before she could finish telling them what to do with him. Relief filled Asher when he caught sight of Markus stepping out of the elevator.

Unlike the other times Asher had seen him, the man was dressed casually. Sweatpants were slung low on his hips and he was wearing a white t-shirt, the cuffs of which were straining to contain his impressive biceps. (Who knew plain cotton could look so good?)

Natalie and the guards looked flabbergasted by the sight. Whether it was because Markus had actually shown up or because it was rare to see him dressed down, Asher wasn’t sure. Of course, their stunned expressions soon morphed into horrified ones.

Because the man looked positively pissed. He emulated displeasure as he marched up to the guard that still held Asher by the elbow. “What’s going on here? Release him immediately.”

The guard let go of Asher’s arm like he’d been holding a hot skillet.

“Mr. Kingston!” Natalie exclaimed, wide-eyed as she glanced back and forth between the man and Asher. “I… it’s not…” she stammered, seemingly racking her brain for an excuse. It was obvious she couldn’t think of any, though, because… “You don’t actually know this man, do you?”

“Yes, I know him,” Markus all but spat at the woman. “This is Asher, but you may refer to him as Mr. Kodet. Is there a valid reason you failed to let him up to my penthouse and ordered the guards to throw him out?”

“I-I… it’s just that-”

It was honestly impressive she was able to speak at all with a glare like that directed towards her. But Markus didn’t give her a chance to finish. “I’ll take that as a no. Unless I explicitly state otherwise, Asher is to be given a visitor’s pass and let into my penthouse whenever he steps foot into this lobby. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir.” Natalie nodded so quickly someone might mistake her for a bobblehead doll. “I’ll be sure to make note of it-”

“You’d better. Because if this happens again, you’re fired.”

Natalie paled.

“As for you,” Markus said, rounding on the guards, “if you touch him without his permission again, your lack of job will be the last thing you have to worry about. Are we clear?”

They both gulped. “Crystal, Sir.”

“Wonderful,” Markus said, though there was clearly nothing wonderful at all about the situation. No one would know it, though, judging by the way the man's countenance immediately softened when he finally turned his gaze on Asher. “Ready?” he asked.

It was all Asher could do to nod and allow himself to be led to the elevator. The doors closed with the same ding they’d opened with, and Asher stared at their reflections in the shiny metal. At least until his eyes connected with Markus’s. Flushing, he immediately directed his eyes to the ground.

“I’m sorry about that,” the man offered gently, breaking the silence. “If I had known the staff would give you a hard time, I’d have just met you in the lobby myself.”

It was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, except that Markus’s soft spot was reserved only for him. Perhaps it should have been cause for concern, but Asher couldn’t help the way it made him feel so flattered – special, at least in Markus’s eyes.

“That’s okay,” he assured. “She was just doing her job.” Poorly, but still. “She seemed to think I didn’t have your permission to be here. Mentioned you don’t have visitors often. Is- is that true?”

He was blatantly fishing for information, but Markus didn’t call him out on it. Instead, he just nodded. “I suppose that’s true,” he affirmed.

“But what about… arrangements like this one that you’ve made in the past?”

Markus shrugged. “We met up elsewhere when I required their services. Usually at a hotel.”

“Oh.”

Asher desperately wanted to ask why he got the privilege of being invited to the man’s penthouse then, but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut.

It definitely wasn’t because Markus liked him, and he wasn’t about to let himself think otherwise. Like Asher told Sasha, he was going to keep a tight lid on his feelings. He wouldn’t be able to do that if he got his hopes up and started entertaining silly ideas about Markus harboring affections for him.

The elevator chimed and the doors opened to reveal Markus’s apartment.

“Oh, wow.”

The place was even more impressive than Asher had imagined. It was open concept, so Asher could see the entire living room and kitchen. He took in the shiny hardwood floors, cream-colored walls, and blindingly white furniture. The state-of-the-art, stainless steel kitchen appliances and granite countertops. There was also the biggest flat screen TV Asher had ever seen stationed above a sprawling electric fireplace.

But by far the most impressive part of the apartment were the huge floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched out along the back wall of the space, offering a breathtaking view of Elliot Bay. The setting sun reflected off the water, filling Asher’s vision with striking hues of yellows, pinks, and purples.

“What do you think?”

Asher jerked away from the windows he was all but pressing his face against, unsure when he’d even approached them. “It’s very…” beautiful, intimidating, immaculate “…clean,” Asher decided on eventually, because he was the opposite of articulate when he was nervous.

Markus snorted. “I’ll be sure to let Gabriella know you think so.”

Asher blinked. “Gabriella?”

“The maid,” Markus clarified.

Of course. Why wouldn’t Markus have a maid? He owned a penthouse and had a personal driver on his payroll.

Not to mention a whore , the self-depreciating voice in Asher’s head pointed out.

“Wine?” Markus asked, pulling him out of thoughts as he grabbed a bottle from the wine rack in his kitchen.

Asher was tempted to agree. The option to use alcohol as a crutch and loosen his nerves was appealing to say the least. But Asher didn’t want his judgement impaired more than it already was, so he shook his head. (After all, it was clear that logical thinking wasn’t exactly his strong suit when it came to saying no to handsome men.)

“Just water, please, if you have any.”

“Of course,” Markus agreed, pulling a fancy glass water bottle out of the fridge. It probably cost more than what Asher made in an hour at work and he held it carefully with both of his hands, fearing he might drop and break it. “Thank you.”

Markus sat on the couch in front of the fireplace and patted on the seat beside him, clearly expecting Asher to sit.

Asher stiffly obeyed the nonverbal order.

“Are you hungry?” Markus asked, gesturing to the charcuterie board set out on the coffee table. Asher hadn’t noticed the platter of meats, cheeses, crackers, and fruits until then, and it honestly looked delicious. Especially the sliced ham and sugar-crusted grapes.

It really was a shame that Asher’s stomach was too cramped with nerves to eat. “No, thanks.”

Markus frowned. “Do you not like cheese? I can order something else,” he offered.

Asher frowned. “Are there really people out there who don’t like cheese?”

“I don’t know. I imagine lactose intolerant people aren’t big fans.”

What the fuck were they doing?

“Shouldn’t we just get straight to, you know… it ?” Asher blurted, unsure how they’d wound up discussing dairy allergies of all things.

“Straight to what?”

There was no way Markus didn’t know what Asher was referring to, but apparently, he was going to make him say it. “The sex,” he managed to grit out.

Markus raised his eyebrows. “Sex isn’t the only way to be intimate with someone,” he pointed out.

“I wasn’t aware you were paying me for intimacy.”

Asher felt like an asshole as soon as the words came out of his mouth, the feeling only worsening when Markus visibly stiffened. He wasn’t sure what came over him. (Not true at all, Asher was perfectly aware why he’d said it; it was a defense mechanism to protect himself from his own feelings being revealed.)

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be sorry,” Markus offered after a tense beat. “You’re right. I’m not paying you to sit and taste test cheeses with me, but I’m not about to have sex with someone radiating discomfort either.”

Asher winced. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, well aware he sounded like a broken record at this point. “It’s just… I’ve never done this before.”

It wasn’t until he saw the raw concern flash in Markus’s eyes that Asher realized how that sounded. “I mean, I’ve had sex before, obviously! I’m not a virgin,” he hastily clarified. “I’ve just never done it under these particular circumstances.”

He’d never been paid for sex is what he meant. Asher found himself nervously picking at his cuticles as he practically burn a hole into the floor with how intently he gazed at it.

“Asher,” Markus called, prompting him to tentatively make eye contact. “I understand. That’s why I think it’s important we talk about what both of us expect to happen tonight before doing anything.”

To be honest, Asher had never actually talked in depth about sex with any of his partners in the past. (Not that there had been many.) It was always something that just happened naturally. Even Trent, whom Asher had been with for years, had never asked Asher what he expected out of sex, or what he liked and disliked. Not that Asher had ever asked him either. He always just went with the flow, eager to please as always.

In hindsight, that was probably why the sex between them had always been so mediocre – at least, on Asher’s side of things. A few times, he hadn’t even got off. (Trent never seemed interested in helping him out after reaching his own orgasm, so Asher had never pressed.)

“We’ve talked about how I like to be in control during sex,” Markus continued despite Asher’s lack of response. “And I’m assuming you had a chance to look over the papers I emailed you?”

Asher nodded. Markus had filled out the same form about hard and soft limits as Asher had in the restaurant.

“Did you have any questions regarding anything?”

Thankfully, the man didn’t seem to have any extreme kinks beyond the control thing. (Although the way he had underlined orgasm control and multiple orgasms had been intimidating.)

Disregarding the papers, there was one thing that worried Asher a bit, though.

“Do you expect me to call you Daddy?”

The question tumbled out of his mouth before Asher had a chance to censor himself, but as embarrassing as it was to ask, it was an honest concern. Markus had seemed to enjoy it while they were sexting, but saying it out loud was a totally different animal, and Asher wasn’t sure it was something he could do.

“You can call me whatever you want tonight, but I won’t deny that I’d like for you to eventually be comfortable calling me Daddy, or Sir, if that’s easier for you. It’s something we can work towards, though, okay?”

Asher nodded.

“Anything else?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay. If you think of anything, don’t be afraid to ask, okay?”

“Okay,” Asher agreed shyly.

“There’s a few questions I have for you as well. Do you know what safe words are?”

Asher wasn’t an idiot. Of course he knew what safe words were, even if he’d never used them before. He nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. Have you heard of the color system?”

“You mean like green means go and red means stop?”

“Exactly like that. We’re still getting to know each other and our likes and dislikes, so I’ll be checking in periodically and asking you for your color. Green means you’re enjoying things and I’m free to keep doing whatever it is I’m doing, yellow means you’re okay, but starting to get a little nervous, and red means stop, full out. If you ever say red, I’ll cease what I’m doing immediately, and we’ll check in with each other, talk about what went wrong and see if we can redirect, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I can’t understate how important it is that you’re honest with me when I ask you for your color. Don’t hesitate to say red if you’re uncomfortable. Do you think you can do that for me?”

“I… I think so.”

Markus raised eyebrows. “Not good enough.”

Asher flushed. “Yes, I’ll tell you to stop if I’m overwhelmed or I don’t like what you’re doing.”

“Good boy,” the man praised.

Asher reddened even further.

“Now that that’s out of the way, I need to know what exactly you expect to happen tonight.”

This conversation just kept getting more and more embarrassing. “Uh… I expect us to have sex?”

Markus was amused by his respond judging by the quirk of his lips. “What kind of sex? Oral? Anal? Just hands?” he pressed.

Asher’s face was burning so fiercely at this point he wondered vaguely if someone ought to call the fire department. He cleared his throat. “Whatever kind of sex you want.”

Markus’s eyes darkened. “Haven’t I warned you about the dangers of giving blanket consent?”

Asher took a deep breath in through his nose. “I trust you to take care of me. To stop if I say so. To… to make me feel good.”

It was true. Asher fully expected this to be one of the best sexual experiences of his life. He knew his body was in good hands. (It was just his heart he worried after.)

“You have no idea what it does to me to hear you say that.”

Asher had some idea, judging by the hungry look in Markus’s eyes – or even more telling, the obvious bulge in the front of his sweat pants that Asher was trying very hard not to look at.

“I’m going to tell you what I want, and you tell me if it sounds like something you’d like to try, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, voice barely audible.

“What I want to do is take you to my bedroom and eat you out.” A zing of desire shot through Asher at the thought. It’d been a long time since anyone, including his ex, had used his mouth on him down there. “I’m going to take you apart with my tongue and fingers until you’re shaking, begging to cum. But you only get to when I say so, okay?”

It was ridiculous that he could get so turned on from words alone. Asher fought the urge to squirm. It was obvious Markus expected an answer, but his tongue felt like it was glued to his mouth, so he forced himself to nod instead.

“Words, Asher. Consent is important, remember? What do you think, baby? Can I eat you out?”

Asher licked his lips. “Yes, please,” he agreed shyly.

“So sweet and polite for me,” Markus cooed, angling into Asher’ space until there were mere inches between them. Up close, Asher could see the faintest hint of freckles dotted across the man’s nose. “You have no idea how endearing that is, but I plan on turning you into a vulgar thing tonight. You’ll be crying out for my cock like you need it to survive by the time I’m through with you.” His eyes zeroed in on Asher’s lips. “But first, I’m going to kiss you – fuck your mouth with my tongue until you’re breathless, okay? Will you be a good boy and take it for me?”

Knowing Markus expected an actual answer, Asher forced himself to speak past the raw desire the man’s filthy words stirred in him. “Yes.”

“Open your mouth.”

Asher obeyed, and Markus was on him immediately.

A low moan escaped at the way the man plundered his mouth. The way he kiss Asher was both soft and hard, sweet and positively dominating all at the same time. He licked at the roof of Asher’s mouth and sucked on his tongue like he wanted to devour him.

The squeal Asher let out when Markus abruptly pulled him into his lap, thighs forced to splay over the man’s hips, was swallowed down by the mouth moving against his own. Asher could feel something hard poking into his belly, and his own erection twitched in response to the proof of the man’s obvious attraction towards him.

When Markus finally pulled away to let Asher catch his breath, there was a little string of saliva connecting their mouths, but instead of being grossed out, Asher’s insides burned hot at the sight of it.

“Can I spit in your mouth, sweetheart?”

Asher had never been asked something like that before, and if he ever had been, he was sure he would have said no… but in his dazed state, he didn’t think he could deny the man in front of him anything. He started to nod, remembering at the last second to use his words instead. “Okay.”

Then he was opening his mouth again, accepting the wad of salvia the man spat directly into his mouth. It should have been disgusting – humiliating, even. But Asher couldn’t find the way Markus’s tongue entered his mouth, pushing his own spit as far down Asher’s throat as he could anything but erotic. It was all Asher could do to mindlessly grind his own erection against Markus’s hard cock as he continued to kiss him.

He wanted to see it so badly – touch it. Markus’s cock. He had imagined it so many times, hot and heavy in his hand, his mouth, his ass – pulsating with the same need Asher felt rising inside him.

Fuck it. He couldn’t take it anymore. Asher needed to feel it – now.

Asher removed his hands from Markus’s shoulders, which he’d been helplessly clutching since being pulled into the man’s lap, allowing them to trail down Markus’s chest until he reached the drawstring of his sweat pants. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to wedge more than his fingertips past the waistband, the feel of coarse pubic hair making him moan low in the back of his throat, before Markus had him by the wrists, gently pulling his hands away.

Asher whined in protest, but Markus didn’t relent.

“Na-ah. You don’t get my cock until you’ve earned it.” The only consolation was how growly Markus’s voice sounded, evidence he was as turned on as Asher was. “I’m going to take you to my bedroom now.”

That was all the only warning Asher got before the man was gripping him under his thighs and lifting him like he weighed nothing. Asher reflexively wrapped his arms around Markus’s neck as the man walked them out of the living room, using his hip to push open a door that apparently led to his bedroom.

Asher half expected the man to toss him onto the bed like a caveman, but instead, he carefully set him on the floor, not releasing the hold he had on him until he was safely on his feet.

Asher glanced around, observing his surroundings. Markus’s bedroom was as impressive as the rest of his apartment. Most of the space was taken up by a giant bed, covered in soft-looking maroon sheets and a plethora of pillows. There was also a plush, cream-colored rug and another electric fireplace. Like the living area, the back wall was covered in floor-to-ceiling windows, and Asher was once again dazzled by the view it offered.

“Strip.”

Asher jerked his gaze away from the windows, redirecting it back on Markus. The raw authority in the man’s voice, along with the dark look in his eyes, gave him no choice but to obey the command. He pulled his sweater up over his head first. Despite how warm and cozy Markus’s apartment was, he shivered a bit as his bare skin was exposed, his nipples immediately pebbling. Asher peeled off his socks next before unbuttoning his jeans and kicking them off to the side.

Which left him in nothing but his underwear. (He’d toyed with the idea of wearing the same pink panties he’d adorned when he’d sent that first picture to Markus, but had chickened out at the last minute and decided to go with plain white briefs instead.) His dick strained against the front as he played with the elastic waistband. Refusing to look at Markus, he took a deep breath in through his nose before yanking them down in one fell swoop.

It wasn’t until he was fully naked that he dared to glance up at the man.

Like usual, the first thing Asher noticed was his eyes – the raw hunger in Markus’s dark gaze as they roamed freely over Asher’s naked body, taking in his pink nipples, toned thighs, and finally his cock, rock hard where it strained against his stomach, so eager that a little bead of precum had escaped the slit.

The second thing Asher noticed was that Markus was still dressed, the glaring power imbalance making Asher feel extra vulnerable.

He couldn’t stop himself from giving in to the instinctual urge to cover himself.

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to do.

In two long strides, Markus quickly closed the space between them and took Asher by the wrists, forcing his hands to the side. “Don’t ever hide from me,” he ordered, voice a stern rumble. “You shouldn’t ever be embarrassed by your body. It’s beautiful, and it’s mine to look at. Understand?”

Asher swallowed thickly. “Okay.”

“Color?”

“Green,” Asher croaked when he realized what Markus was asking.

He was rewarded with a kiss pressed to his temple, a shockingly soft gesture considering the scene. “Good. Now, climb onto the bed and get on your hands and knees.”

Asher probably would have been embarrassed by how fast he scrambled to oblige the man if it wasn’t for how goddamn turned on he was.

“Spread your legs for me.”

Shame all but smothered by the arousal he felt, Asher obeyed, thighs straining as he spread them apart. He could feel his butt cheeks parting, and he knew the man had spotted the tiny pucker of his hole when he heard a ragged inhale somewhere behind him.

“Like this?” he asked.

“Just like that,” Markus assured, voice thick with desire. “You’ve got the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen.” Asher’s breath caught in his throat when warm hands suddenly palmed the globes of his ass, kneading the soft flesh. The man wasn’t content to play with the fat of his cheeks for long, however, because soon enough he was pulling them apart, and Asher could feel the heat of Markus’s gaze on his hole.

His belly swam with nerves, frazzled to have the most intimate part of him so thoroughly examined. “Fuck, baby. What a cute little hole you have. I don’t think I’ve seen anything prettier in my life.”

Something inside Asher preened at the compliment, weak for the praise Markus so easily offered. He still tensed, though, when a finger was suddenly right there , touching the pink pucker of his hole. Markus used his free hand to rub soothingly up and down Asher’s thigh until he relaxed again. But still, he didn’t push the finger in. It just sat there on Asher’s hole, massaging the little, wrinkled ring of muscle until he started to squirm.

“Quit teasing,” Asher demanded, knowing he sounded like a brat. But he couldn’t help it. He didn’t even care that Markus hadn’t even gotten any lube yet. He wanted the man’s fingers in him – now .

“Is that an order?”

Markus sounded stern in a way he hadn’t before, even when he’d been commanding Asher to strip and get on his bed. If Asher wasn’t so focused on the finger toying with his hole, perhaps he would have noticed and realized he’d fucked up.

But he didn’t. “I- no. It’s just… I need it,” he whined.

“The only thing you need is to listen to your Daddy. You’ll get my fingers when I decide you get them.” Markus took his hands off him, immediately causing Asher to cry out in protest. But the man wasn’t swayed. “I think you need a reminder of who’s in charge here.”

“I’m sorry-” Asher started, willing to say just about anything to get the man’s hands back on him, but he was cut off before he could even begin. The edge of the mattress bending under Markus’s weight was the only warning he got before there was a hot, wet mouth on his ass.

Asher gasped.

It wasn’t a tentative lick or the careful prodding of a tongue, which is what Asher had experienced the handful of times his ex had done this to him in the past. No. Markus devoured him whole, gobbling up the pucker of his asshole, sucking it into his mouth and slurping at it until Asher was shaking.

Markus released the ring of muscle with a wet pop before Asher felt the broad stoke of the man’s tongue lick up his entire ass crack, all the way from his perineum to his tail bone. Markus spread Asher’s cheeks apart with his hands before returning his attention to his hole, lathering it with saliva. When he deemed it wet enough, he wormed his tongue inside, lapping at the soft velvet of Asher’s inner walls.

If this was Markus’s idea of discipline, he could punish him any time he pleased.

It was all Asher could do to white-knuckle the sheets, hanging on for dear life as his asshole got eaten out like it was someone’s – Markus’s – last meal.

Asher choked back a whimper when the man’s tongue came in contact with that little bundle of nerves inside him he knew to be his prostate, his cock twitching eagerly.

Balancing his weight on one elbow, Asher reached down so he could wrap his hand around his poor, weeping erection and give it the attention it deserved. Except, before he could even touch it, Markus’s hand was wrapped around his wrist, pressing his hand back down into the mattress.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” Markus asked from above him, where he’d suddenly caged him with his own body. His stubble rubbed against the back of Asher’s neck, causing goosebumps to erupt.

“No,” Asher sniffled pathetically, hardly recognizing his own voice. “I-I just n-need it,” he stuttered.

“You don’t seem to understand. I’m the only one who knows what you need. Not you, and certainly not those limp-dicked, pathetic pussies you’ve been with in the past,” he snarled. “All you need is to be a good boy and let me finish eating you out. You’re not getting a hand on your cock or fingers in your ass until you cum on my tongue. Got it?”

Asher shivered at thought. He’d never come from just someone’s mouth on him before, and the prospect of it seemed daunting.

“I can’t,” he whined.

“You can, and you will,” Markus growled against Asher’s neck. “Color?” demanded gruffly.

“G-green,” Asher hiccuped.

A moment later, Markus was back to eating his ass, even rougher and more desperate than before as he gorged himself on Asher’s tender insides. “You taste so sweet, like fucking candy. I could eat you out all day. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? My little pillow princess, lying there, cheeks spread, ready to be devoured any time I wanted.”

Who the fuck wouldn’t like that?

A smack to the side of his thigh – light, but jolting – made Asher realize the man expected an answer.

“I- yes,” he admitted shamefully, voice shaky, “I’d l-like that.”

Markus hummed his approval, before his tongue once again found his prostate, lavishing attention on the little bundle of nerves and mercilessly abusing it with his tongue until Asher was shaking, falling apart where he knelt on the bed.

In hindsight, it’d been foolish to worry about not being able to cum without any other stimulation, because moments later, Asher found his entire body tensing as the pleasure building inside him became too much, and he felt like he was literally about to burst. “I- I’m going to cum,” Asher warned.

“Cum then,” Markus growled against his hole. “Show Daddy how much you like his tongue in your ass.”

So Asher did.

He cried out and came all over himself, streaks of white splattering against his stomach and the sheets in little spurts until his cock was completely spent.

The orgasm did little to lift the fog that had descended upon his brain, however, and he felt distinctly wobbly afterwards. In fact, Asher probably would have collapsed into his own mess if Markus hadn’t grabbed him and carefully arranged him against the pillows at the top of the bed afterward.

Asher only blanked out for a few seconds as he fought to recover from one of the most intense orgasms of his life, but when he came back to himself, it was to realize Markus was hovering over him, in the process of tearing his shirt off over his head.

Frickin’ finally.

A shirtless Markus was truly a work of art, his musclebound torso even more impressive in person than it’d been in the pictures he’d sent. The man was positively ripped, the light dusting of hair on his chest doing nothing to hide the perky brown buds of his nipples. And the tattoos crawling up his thick arms and sprawling across his torso… Asher wanted nothing more than to run his fingers – and tongue – all over the intricate ink.

Asher didn’t have much time to admire the tattoos, however, because Markus’s sweatpants soon followed his shirt to the floor, and he had to swallow the drool that pooled in his mouth as the crown jewel was finally revealed.

Markus’s cock.

Asher had pictured it in his head many times, but nothing he’d imagined compared to reality. Asher was right. It was huge – monstrous, really – bigger than any other cock he had seen before. And it was angry looking. The bulbous head was nearly purple where it jutted proudly against the man’s stomach, and Asher could see Markus’s massive sack drawn tight beneath the veiny shaft, all of it surrounded by a thick patch of dark pubic hair.

Asher couldn’t help it. No thoughts were going through his head as he reached out to touch. All he knew was that he need Markus’s cock in his hand, like, yesterday. Shockingly, the man didn’t try to stop him. He only tensed when Asher first made contact with his erection, otherwise waiting patiently as Asher explored.

Asher ran his fingers lightly up and down the shaft, rubbing his thumb against the veiny underside. When he pressed it against the weeping slit, however, the man caught his hand.

“You keep doing that, and this will be over embarrassingly quick,” Markus said, sounding strained.

Not so patient, after all, then.

“I don’t mind.”

“I do. I want to be inside of you when I spill my load.”

Fuck, that sounded good.

“Yes,” Asher agreed brainlessly, despite the fact he hadn’t been asked a question. “Please. That.”

“Gotta get you ready first, okay?” Markus said, reaching to the side to open the top drawer of his night stand before returning to his position of hovering over Asher. He had a bottle of lube in his hand. “Gotta open you up so you can take my cock. Hook your hands up under your knees and spread your legs.”

Despite the intimacy of the position, Asher didn’t need to be told twice. His insides swirled with anticipation as he held himself open, waiting as patiently as he could as Markus drenched his fingers with lube.

A shudder ran through Asher as he watched the man carefully circle his exposed hole. Knowing what tonight likely entailed, Asher had taken the liberty of prepping himself in the shower before Nigel had picked him up to bring him to Markus’s penthouse. Because of that, his body gave way easily when the man sunk the first finger in. The second one, too.

Unlike the brutal way he’d fucked him with his tongue, Markus was careful – gentle, even – as he stretched Asher open with his fingers. It wasn’t until he introduced a third that Asher felt any discomfort at all, and even that quickly passed when the man expertly pressed them against his prostate.

Asher was already fully hard again, despite having just had an orgasm less than ten minutes earlier, and he was a sweating, moaning mess as he watched Markus open him up. “Look at how well you take my fingers, sucking me in so good. I can only imagine how you’re going to feel on my cock.”

“Please,” Asher whined, desperate to have the man’s cock inside him.

“My cock’s bigger than my fingers, baby. I don’t know if you can take it.”

“I-I can take it,” Asher promised, desperate to please the man for reasons he was too sexed out to examine too closely.

“You’ll have to ask nicely.”

“P-please, can I have your cock?”

“Hm, I don’t know…” Markus trailed off, cruelly twisting his fingers and sending a thrill of pleasure shooting up Asher’s spine.

Asher cried out, unable to think past the cloud of desire rapidly overtaking his inhibitions. “Please, Daddy!” he wailed. “I need you to full me up.”

Markus stiffened. “Fuck.”

The curse that escaped his mouth was jagged, and full of the same raw desire Asher could feel burning inside him.

When the man pulled out his fingers, Asher nearly wept. But moments later, Markus was digging through the nightstand and ripping a condom wrapper open with his teeth, and Asher understood his intentions.

Eager to move things along, Asher pushed himself up and prepared to get on all fours again, but Markus’s hands on his hips stopped him. “No, like this,” he all but growled. “I want to see the look on your face when I stuff you full of my cock for the first time.”

“O-okay,” Asher managed to push out past his suddenly dry mouth.

Markus hovered over him as he lined his cock up against his hole, which was already a little puffy from being so thoroughly finger-fucked. Asher couldn’t stop the way he tensed when the head of the man’s erection slipped past the ring of muscle, a whimper escaping as the sheer girth of Markus’s cock stretched him wider than he’d ever been stretched before.

“Okay, sweetheart?” Markus asked through gritted teeth. “Do we need to stop?”

That was the last thing Asher wanted. He’d literally bawl like a baby if Markus didn’t finish what he’d started and shove his cock fully inside him. Perhaps it was the fear that the man would pull out that led Asher to do what he did next. Hooking his legs around Markus’s waist, he used what strength he had to pull himself up, and in one shift motion, Asher impaled himself on the man’s cock.

Markus cussed up a storm above him, and the hands on Asher’s hips clutched at him so tightly, they were bound to leave bruises.

But Asher heard and felt none of it. A small jolt of pain had shot up his spine at his hasty decision to skewer himself on Markus’s dick, but beneath that minuscule discomfort, there was this weird buzzing in his brain – his entire body, really. A sense of satisfaction – of wholeness – the likes of which he’d never felt before. It was almost as if a puzzle piece Asher hadn’t even known was missing had slotted into place. (Cock, apparently, was all in needed in his life to feel complete. Markus’s cock, specifically.)

It made him almost dizzy with pleasure.

Fingers suddenly gripping his jaw brought Asher back into the moment. “Fucking brat,” Markus scolded, scowling, but the effect was ruined by his breathlessness and way the man carefully scanned Asher for any sign of discomfort “You’re lucky you didn’t hurt yourself.” A pause. “But if you’re really that desperate for my cock, I’ll fucking give it to you.”

That was the only warning Asher got before the man suddenly pulled out and rammed back inside him. Asher cried out, unable to do anything but lay there and take it as the man forced his legs open, fucking into Asher like he was trying to carve a place for himself inside him.

Markus set a relentless pace, and Asher shoved his fingers into his mouth in an effort to prevent embarrassingly loud moans from escaping – an attempt to preserve what was left of his dignity. But, of course, Markus wouldn’t let him have even that. He yanked Asher’s hand away from his mouth. “Don’t hide those pretty noises from me,” he scolded. “Let Daddy hear the vulgar sounds his pretty baby makes when he’s being fucked stupid.”

The man tugged harshly on one of Asher’s nipples at the same time he rammed into his prostate, and Asher wailed.

“Tell me how good my cock feels,” Markus demanded in his gravelly voice.

“It’s g-good, sooo good,” Asher replied, words slurred.

“You’ve never been fucked properly before me, have you?”

Asher shook his head.

“Words,” Markus demanded.

“N-never,” he choked out.

“That’s right. None of those cunts you let have you before me knew how to take care of you. Only I can give you what you really want – what you need .”

“O-only you,” Asher agreed dumbly.

“Only who?” Markus pressed, and Asher knew immediately what he wanted. “Say it.”

“Only… only you, Daddy!”

Markus crashed their mouths together. There was nothing elegant or pretty about the way their teeth clashed, Markus’s tongue invading Asher’s mouth until he could taste him in the back of his throat. When he finally let up so Asher could breath, it was only to attack his neck, sucking bruises onto Asher’s shoulders and neck, even his jaw.

The man discovered the sensitive spot behind his ear at the same time a particularly ruthless thrust connected with his prostate.

Asher released a half-gasp/half-cry, and Markus made sure to adjust the angle of his hips so that he continued hitting Asher right there with every jab of his cock. The little bundle of nervous inside of him was already overstimulated from his first orgasm, and when a hand suddenly wrapped itself around his dick, a calloused thumb pressing into his slit, it was too much.

Asher’s orgasm hit him without warning, and he shouted as he came, eyes rolling into the back of his head as more cum spurted from his cock, creating a sticky mess between them.

Shortly after, Markus’s thrusts grew erratic, and he groaned low in his throat, his entire body shuddering as he, too, came, emptying his load into the condom.

Asher was illogically jealous of the elastic barrier between them, an errant thought of how lovely the hot splash of Markus’s cum would feel inside him running through his brain.

But that thought left as quickly as it came.

Thinking was too daunting a task when he got this way – floaty, dazed, and utterly blissed out after having an orgasm torn from him.

And it’d happened twice in less than a half hour.

Asher didn’t know the last time he’d had back-to-back orgasms like this. Probably not since he was a horny teenager discovering porn for the first time.

Asher could only hope that Markus would let him recover a bit before kicking him out because he wasn’t fully convinced he could even walk at this point.

Turns out Asher didn’t have to worry about walking, though.

He whimpered when Markus pulled out of him a few minutes later, his hole insanely sensitive from the brutal fucking it’d just taken. But it was what the man did next that threw Asher for a loop. Because a moment later, arms were curled around him and he was airborne.

Asher clung instinctively to Markus’s neck. “What-?”

“Sorry, darling, but you’re filthy. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Markus carried him to the master bathroom, and the space was as fancy as Asher had come to expect at this point. Gorgeous marble floors. A double vanity with raised sinks. A shower and a bathtub. A huge, jacuzzi bathtub that Markus began to fill with water after setting Asher carefully down on the toilet seat.

Unfortunately, Asher wasn’t in any state of mind to appreciate any of the amenities. He was too flabbergasted over what was happening. “What- what are you doing?”

Markus shot an incredulous look over his shoulder. “Cleaning you up.” With that, he picked Asher up and lowered the both of them into the tub, setting Asher between his legs. It fit them both comfortably.

As the warm, sudsy water filled the tub, Asher desperately fought the urge to relax, to sink into the man seated behind him. If he did, he was afraid he might lose himself in the moment and start thinking that this thing with Markus was more than what it was – an arrangement, not a relationship.

Which is why when Markus brought a damp washcloth to his shoulders in an attempt to wash him, Asher tried to take it from him.

“I can do it myself,” he assured.

Markus bent his neck to make eye contact. “I know you can, but I want to.”

Who could possibly argue with that?

Despite his best efforts not to let his guard down, Asher couldn’t help but lean his back into the man’s chest as he gently, but thoroughly cleaned him with the washcloth, even massaging shampoo into his hair before carefully rinsing it out.

He felt like putty in the man’s hands by the time Markus leaned over him to unplug the drain, watching numbly as water whirled down the metal slots.

“Can you stand?” Markus asked.

Asher nodded and stood from the tub, allowing Markus to get out first. The man dried himself off and tied a towel around his waist before grabbing another towel and holding it out for Asher to step into.

It had to have been made of literal clouds. That was the only logical reason for it to have been as soft as it was as Asher huddled inside it. Regardless, a shiver ran through him as his feet shuffled against the cold marble floor.

“Let’s get you dressed before you catch a chill,” Markus suggested.

There it was.

Asher swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “Okay,” he mumbled.

Asher followed Markus like a baby duckling back into the bedroom, stopping to gather his clothes from the floor even as Markus continued to make his way to the armoire on the other side of the room.

The man frowned and turned around when he realized Asher hadn’t followed him. His frown intensified when saw that Asher was trying to pull the sweater he’d been wearing earlier over his head. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

Asher blinked. “You said that it’s time to get dressed.”

“I was going to offer you one of my t-shirts. You can’t sleep in a sweater and jeans.”

Asher stiffened. “You… you want me to stay?”

“Of course I want you to stay.” Markus furrowed his brow. “Unless you don’t want to?”

If Asher was smart, he’d take the out the man was giving him and leave. After all, even if Markus was offering to let him spend the night, it didn’t mean anything. And staying was just an invitation for his brain to invent feelings.

Asher glanced at the bed. He had to admit, it looked inviting. He’d never slept on a king-sized bed before. Plus, he reasoned, it was already late. Would it really hurt to stay over? They’d probably just sleep on opposite sides of the bed. Heck, maybe Markus even had a guest room he was planning on offering Asher. Or the couch.

He’d slept on Danny and Sasha’s couch plenty of times. No big deal.

“I’ll stay.”

But it turned out Markus didn’t mean the couch or another bedroom. He meant his bed, which was made obvious when after stripping it of its soiled sheets and grabbing fresh blankets, he gestured for Asher to join him.

Asher didn’t protest and slipped under the covers.

He expected it to be an awkward affair. He figured they’d leave a respectable space between them and face opposite walls before eventually falling asleep. He was wrong – again.

While Asher turned to face the nearest wall, Markus didn’t hesitate to curl a protective arm around his belly and tug him backwards into a snug embrace.

Asher stiffened at the unexpected action, unused to being held like this. Even when he’d been with his ex, Trent would only even cuddle with him for a few minutes at a time (usually when Asher was feeling particularly needy after sex) before complaining that he was too hot and sweaty, and abandoning him to scroll through his phone or watch TV, leaving Asher to his own, lonely devices.

But Markus never left Asher alone. He stayed spooning him, gently thumbing his belly button before his hand eventually fell still. The steady rise and fall of the man’s chest against Asher’s back and the warm breath on his neck telltale signs that the man behind him had fallen asleep.

Asher didn’t think he’d ever felt so safe and cared for in his entire life.

It’s not real , it’s not real, it’s not real, Asher reminded himself, repeating the words in a mantra, hoping that would help them get through his thick skull. It was his last thought before the warmth and comfort of Markus’s embrace became too much, and he was pulled under the Sandman’s spell.