Page 7 of Bound By Her

His body trembled beneath Bryson, his rage and arousal impossible to separate. Bryson spat on his cock, watching Kaydon twitch with raw tension.

“I’ll bind and gag you,” Bryson warned, voice low and cruel, “then go spend the rest of the night with your brother.”

Kaydon groaned, fists clenching. But he didn’t move to touch himself. He knew it wasn’t an empty threat; Bryson would do it. He’d done it before. The high of the win hitting him, Bryson moved faster.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

He toyed with Kaydon.

Harder, then slower.

Working him like prey. Kaydon writhed beneath him, hands clawing at the bedspread, mouth parted, gasping, eyes tight shut.

Bryson’s breath caught as his own edge neared. “Look at me.”

Kaydon opened his eyes.

Bryson smirked, wicked and sharp. “What do we say?”

Kaydon didn’t answer. Fury radiated off him.

“Being pushed doesn’t always feel good, does it?” Bryson murmured, dragging out another brutal stroke.

Kaydon’s voice cracked. “Seth’s fine. He’s fine. Ask him.”

But Bryson heard the doubt. It rang clear. The message was landing.

Kaydon was his Right Hand, and the pressure was relentless. Bryson understood. Kaydon expected the most from everyone, but even more from himself.

He grabbed Kaydon’s jaw, tilting it to him. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

Kaydon bit his lip, looking anywhere but at him. Finally, a whisper: “Please.”

Not the full answer. But it was enough.

Bryson nodded. “You can touch.”

Kaydon’s hand flew to his cock, pumping with desperate, methodical strokes.

Bryson pounded into him, faster now, breath ragged.

“Such a good little slut,” he said between thrusts. “Telling me what you need. Fuck, you’re perfect. A dirty, needy slut.”

Kaydon moaned, arching, semen spilling onto his stomach as he came, twitching and gasping beneath him.

Gripping his knees, Bryson gave one last series of deep, punishing thrusts, the sight of Kaydon undone pushing him over the edge. With a groan, Bryson spilled inside him, his orgasm detonating through every nerve.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing—ragged, raw, and real.

Collapsing beside Kaydon, Bryson allowed himself a few moments to breathe. His lungs burning, legs still shaky. After his heart rate began to settle, he forced himself upright and crossed the room to where Seth lay.

Scooping him up easily, Seth instinctively wrapped an arm around his neck, murmuring something unintelligible. Bryson carried him, placing him gently on the bed beside Kaydon. It was late, and they both needed rest.

For a brief second, he considered getting back to work. His father’s absence left a list of unfinished tasks in his lap. Responsibilities he couldn’t ignore for long. But one look at the way Seth curled into Kaydon, the rise and fall of their chests syncing like waves, and the decision was made.

Work could wait. It always could.

They’d bought a California king for this very reason. Technically, they didn’t live here. But whenever it was safe, this was home.

---