Page 5 of Bound By Her

Bryson knew Kaydon wasn’t planning to let Seth come. To Kaydon, this was punishment, discipline forlosing count. But to Bryson, Seth had earned something sweeter. He’d been such a good little killer.

And Kaydon had pushed him too far.

In the BDSM world, enforcing protocol was standard. Miss a count, and you paid for it. But in their triad, they were trying to build up Seth’s confidence, not hurt it. If Kaydon wanted people to be perfect, maybe it was time he learned what it felt like to be pushed toward perfection himself.

A subtle shift tightened Bryson’s jaw. His eyes darkened. The atmosphere changed.

Kaydon excelled at the art of giving head. Even while deep-throating, he could breathe through his nose and rarely needed to stop for air. Bryson honed in on the flair of Kaydon’s nostrils. Giving Seth a soft kiss on the forehead, he released him and moved toward Kaydon, who didn’t notice until it was too late. A firm grip on the back of his neck, followed by a pinching of his nostrils. Kaydon tried to resist beneath him. His body instinctively trying to take a breath. He was larger and stronger, but his current position paled in comparison to Bryson. Putting a knee in between Kaydon’s shoulder blades, Bryson secured his footing.

In a low voice, Bryson said, “Keep going. You don’t breathe until he comes.”

Kaydon stilled under the command but then started to work the length of Seth again.

Seth’s long eyelashes fluttered open during the commotion, locking eyes with Bryson.

Bryson chided, “You better come, Killer, or your brother’s gonna die sucking your dick.”

Kaydon, who loved a challenge with stakes, moaned into Seth. That pushed Seth over the edge. Bryson watched as he convulsed, screaming into the room.

Good boy.

Bryson waited for Seth to still before releasing Kaydon.

Kaydon fell to his side, coughing and gasping for air.

Leaning over, Bryson whispered into Seth’s ear, “You gonna be okay for a sec? Mommy and Daddy have a few things to discuss.”

Seth gave him a dopey smile and nodded. Bryson gave him a visual pat down. He would need some cuddly aftercare, but for now, he was in good condition.

Standing, he moved to tower over Kaydon, who was still catching his breath. Dealing with Seth differed from dealing with Kaydon, but Bryson had no issues topping him. The give and take was as much mental as it was physical.

Kaydon’s long sandy-brown hair was styled in its traditional half bun. Aiming for the center mass, Bryson tangled his fingers into the surprisingly soft locks. Clawing into Kaydon’s scalp, Bryson dragged him across the room. Kaydon, still catching his breath, scrambled to get his footing.

“What the fuck, man?” Kaydon growled, straightening until they stood toe to toe.

While just as tall, Bryson’s Romanian frame was lean, his figure feminine, while Kaydon’s biceps were as big as Bryson’s head. But this wasn’t about size or strength. It was a battle fought in the mind.

And a battle of wills was a fight Bryson always won. Not only because his life depended on it, but because he had a gift for it. Intuitively, he understood what made people tick and was able to use that against them.

As such, the colder tone conveyed through “pants off” was more palpable than audible. Unlike Seth, Kaydon needed him in full Dominant mode in order to submit, and even then, Kaydon loved to resist. Which was fine, because Bryson loved to push.

Kaydon stared back at him, his breathing still recovering, indecision in his eyes.

Try me.

Finally, Kaydon moved, his eyes never leaving Bryson’s as he pulled his belt and unzipped his shorts, allowing them to fall to the ground with a thud. Bryson waited.

Kaydon peeled down his black briefs and stepped out. Now it was impossible for him to hide his intense excitement. Not that Bryson needed the confirmation. He let his eyes rake over Kaydon’s body, stopping at all the right places.

In the Nine, each family had their own brand, and the Winters were represented by four alternating swords. Kaydon had all the required family tattoos on his skin, including the Winters’ brand just above his heart.

Bryson appreciated Kaydon’s body, the strength and power it housed, and damn, it turned him on to own that.

“Turn around,” Bryson said.

Kaydon obeyed. Bryson stepped in behind him, slow and deliberate. He dragged a finger along the back of Kaydon’s thigh, letting it rest just above the swell of his hip.

Kaydon was strong. He barked orders, cracked jokes, led like he was born to do it. But when someone took the reins,reallytook them, Kaydon gave in with a beautiful kind of desperation.

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