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Jordan stumbled into the apartment with the stranger’s hand already down his pants. He slammed the door shut behind them, flicked the lock with a blindly groping hand, and let himself be slammed against the wall so hard the thud was audible. A groan was dragged from deep in his chest and his hips bucked with a delightful lack of restraint. Samuel traced his finger around the edge of his tumbler, eyes fixed on those twitching hips, until the newcomer thrust a thigh between Jordan’s and drew a desperate whine from him.
“That’s enough,” he said firmly, and enjoyed the way that Jordan’s eyes dragged to him with desperation written across his face in capital letters. His friend yelped and jumped away like he’d been scalded. “You’re late back. I was expecting you an hour ago.”
“Sorry, sir.” Jordan peered at him from under his lashes, in a way that made him want to tie him to the bed and torture him for the rest of the night, and with a sly smirk that said he knew it. “Traffic was bad?”
Samuel snorted. “Are you going to introduce me to your… friend?”
“Uh…” He looked between them. “This is…”
The stranger rolled his eyes. “Paul.”
“Paul. I knew that.” His gaze returned to Samuel, and he stretched up against the wall, revealing a flash of skin between his tight T-shirt and even tighter jeans. “Sir.”
Paul was obviously trying to work out what he’d just walked into, with the safe-but-weird option of ‘dad’ rapidly disappearing into the distance and ‘dom’ careening into the fore. He edged towards the door with a venomous look at Jordan. “Right. Well, I’m going to…”
“So soon?” Samuel asked. “I thought we were just getting started.” He got up at last and sauntered towards them, conscious of Jordan watching his every move. “Are you sure we can’t convince you to stay?”
He froze in place, one hand reaching for the door handle still, and his eyes darted from Samuel, still advancing on him, and Jordan stretched out against the wall. His heart was hammering, pulse thundering in his throat and drawing Samuel’s gaze when he lifted his chin in brave defiance. “What have I walked into, then?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
Sometimes that was enough to put them off, but Jordan rarely let him down. By accident, at least. He chose well, teased well, led them on so beautifully. When Samuel crooked a finger at him he stepped forwards, head tipping into Samuel’s caress and eyes fluttering closed.
Paul’s hand fell from the door handle. “Go on, then. He didn’t mention a dom.”
“Well, it’s not quite the right word.” He pulled Jordan against him, ran a hand down his front to feel his erection pressing against his zip, pressed a kiss against the frantic pulse in his throat. The way Paul’s eyes flickered down, he knew that the gesture had exposed that flicker of lace over the waist of Jordan’s jeans where they were clinging to his hips. He smiled. “I prefer to think of myself as his curator. Pretty thing, isn’t he?” He pushed his hand up under the T-shirt to reveal creamy flesh and muscles that twitched at his touch. “It’s the cheekbones, I just had to have him.”
Jordan arched against him and tangled his fingers with Samuel’s, dragging it down his chest to his fly. He knew better than to say anything, though; just let out a groan when Samuel dragged the zip down at a speed he knew would be absolute torment for him, revealing black lace and red satin. Paul’s eyes followed it all the way down and he licked his lips.
“Fucking gorgeous,” Paul murmured. “I’m surprised you let him out.”
“He always comes back. And sometimes brings a friend.” His thumb flicked at the button and he felt it burst open at last, Jordan’s erection straining against the satin that pushed through the gap. “I like to watch.”
Paul finally dragged his eyes away from Jordan’s underwear and met Samuel’s gaze. “You watch?”
“I like pretty things,” he said casually. Then he stepped away and gestured at Jordan with a twirl of his wrist. “Off, all of it.”
Paul was so willing that he stepped forwards to help, but Jordan got there before him. He almost ripped his T-shirt off, and by the time it landed at his feet he was already shoving his jeans down his thighs, revealing lace topped stockings held up by the black lace garter belt. There was nothing elegant about getting out of skinny jeans, but that just meant that Samuel got to admire his backside when he bent over, the red jewel of his butt plug snagging on the string of his thong. Paul shifted uncomfortably, eyes on Jordan’s face, and Samuel could only imagine the look he’d got from under those lashes.
“Coming, then?” he asked, and he indicated for Jordan to lead the way through to their bedroom.
They both watched the exaggerated sway of his hips, accentuated by the line of his suspenders. Or at least he assumed Paul was watching. He wasn’t about to look away for long enough to find out.
The bedroom was dominated by a vast four-poster bed that he’d had for a couple of centuries, and moved from one lair to another. He’d got the rings and brackets set at convenient heights decades ago and didn’t see the point going to all that trouble again. Best of all, it shared no walls or floors with neighbours, and he’d had soundproofing installed just in case, then tested it out quite thoroughly. Jordan’s throat had been raw for days after.
Samuel caught hold of Jordan’s chin and dragged him round to meet his gaze. There was a flash of a brilliant smile before he sank under Samuel’s control utterly, pliant in his grasp.
“What the hell?” Paul demanded. “Was that hypnosis?”
“Sort of.” He stroked his fingers down Jordan’s cheek and enjoyed the way he swayed towards him. “What would you do with him now?” He turned to Paul and smiled. “Really. You could do anything at all. And he’d enjoy it.”
Paul stared at the vacant expression on Jordan’s face, but his gaze flickered away down his lean chest to his straining erection again. “Anything?”
“I won’t let you hurt him. Not in ways he doesn’t like.” He trailed a finger along Jordan’s bottom lip and withdrew it quickly, watching Jordan sway on the spot in pursuit of the contact. “So, what would you do?”
He gave the question the consideration it deserved. Some men needed only the slightest encouragement to indulge in long-held fantasies, whilst others were all at sea and instead took instruction beautifully. The ones in the middle, who paused to admire and decide, were Samuel’s favourites. He settled down into one of the wingback chairs, pouring himself a drink as he watched Paul trace patterns over Jordan’s chest with his nails and stalk around him.
Paul was still fully dressed, if a little rumpled, and his erection was an angry line in jeans so tight they looked sprayed on. He shot Samuel a curious look, then dragged his fingertips down Jordan’s arm and tugged his hand to his own fly. Jordan required little encouragement. His fingers fumbled with the button and zip, and when Paul pressed on his shoulder he dropped to his knees and leaned in eagerly, lips pressed to straining cotton until, with a whine, he finally got it free.
It was such a pretty picture that Samuel wanted to frame it. Had framed it in the past. It hung on the wall in his study, just artistic enough to make people look twice. Jordan was always beautiful, but there was something about him when he was enthralled, on his knees in just a scrap of red satin and black lace, consumed by bliss as his plush lips strained around a stranger’s erection, and especially when the man he was pleasuring was fully aware and fully dressed, just his dick exposed for Jordan’s enjoyment. He should get a second thrall, then he could watch them all the time.
Paul tangled his fingers in Jordan’s hair, scratching through the fuzz of his undercut before he tugged hard and Jordan’s eyelashes fluttered. His hips worked gently, minute thrusts into Jordan’s hot, welcoming mouth. It was slow and luxuriant, easing into the situation, and the only sounds in the room were Paul’s breathing and the wet, sloppy noises of Jordan’s enjoyment, moans cut off by the slick slide of a dick stretching his jaw out. It would ache in the morning, and he’d whine until Samuel did something about it, probably bent him over something and edged him until he forgot about it.
He wasn’t skilled under thrall, just eager. Not a braincell in that pretty head. Sometimes enthusiasm was enough, but not often. Not this time. Paul was petting at the back of his head like he was a cat, still watching the slide of his dick in and out of his mouth, but eventually he pulled Jordan off and wiped at the corner of his mouth with his thumb, then dragged him to the bed with the hand still tangled in his hair. Jordan went willingly, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed. His dick was still hard and angry, and he whined when Paul tucked it back into his thong and squeezed hard, rubbing the damp satin over it with a rough twist. “Will he come?” he asked.
“Not until I tell him to.” Samuel was half surprised that Paul had even remembered he was there. It was so nice to find someone who got off on being watched. He sipped at his drink and watched Paul strip. He wasn’t one of these gym bunnies, all muscle and bleach, but he wasn’t too self-conscious about it. Once his clothes were dropped in a pile at the foot of the bed he climbed in and dragged Jordan with him, until he was stretched out among the pillows with Jordan straddling his hips and rocking gently already, muscles bunching under the pale skin that stretched between stockings and garters.
His breath was unsteady now, with Jordan rocking and grinding against him, his dick thrusting into the gap between thigh and groin and his hands gripping tight to Jordan’s arse to urge him on. Jordan’s hands were flat on his chest, fingers flexing as the pressure on his dick from the position or the nudge of the plug against his prostate jolted through him. The string of the thong would be rubbing against his perineum too. No wonder he was grinding down so hard, and Paul was just going along for the ride. His hips rolled without rhythm or finesse, seeking release Samuel wasn’t about to give him. Paul’s hands slipped on sweat-slick skin and he groped at Jordan’s cheeks, and whatever he did made Jordan shudder and curse.
Paul did it again and again until Jordan was a shivering mess, barely able to hold himself up on shaking arms, then surged up and flipped them over. He reached behind himself, head tipped back and panting at the ceiling, and then shifted, lined himself up, and sank down so, so slowly onto Jordan’s straining dick. Jordan’s hands tangled in the bedding, fingers gripping and flexing, and his head tossed from side to side, mouth open to draw in gasping breaths. Utterly gorgeous.
He drained the last of his drink and pushed himself up from the chair, so he could stroll around the room behind Paul and get a different view. Jordan’s thighs strained as he thrust up, knees fallen apart, and every so often the movement revealed the flash of silver and ruby of the plug still nestled inside him. His dick was an angry red where it disappeared into Paul’s stretched hole over and over again.
Samuel did appreciate a man who knew what he wanted. He crawled up the bed behind them and pressed his fingers against Jordan’s perineum, which made him buck and sob. Paul looked back over his shoulder and managed a grin. “Joining us?”
“I never refuse an invitation like that.” He smirked at the back of Paul’s neck and trailed a finger from his hairline down to the pulse in his throat, then leaned in and followed it with his lips. The fingers of his other hand closed around Paul’s arm as he plastered himself against his back. Sweat-slicked skin slipped against him, and he trailed his tongue over his shoulder and back to his rapid pulse, just below the skin. Paul didn’t resist when Samuel caught his hand and brought it up to his lips, just rocked against Jordan and bucked when Samuel’s other hand wrapped around his straining erection. He grunted, letting his head fall back on Samuel’s shoulder, and Samuel really never could refuse an invitation like that.
He sank his fangs into Paul’s neck and twisted his wrist at the same time, holding fast as he convulsed with the pleasure crashing over him. Paul’s hammering heart pushed the toxin through his body before he could fight it, and his initial struggles subsided into limp compliance. Samuel needed to hold him up with one arm braced over his chest, so that he could bring his wrist to his lips and sink a fang into the artery. When he offered it to Jordan he latched on happily, hips thrusting as he drank.
“So utterly fucking perfect,” Samuel murmured, brushing hair from his forehead. He trailed his tongue up Paul’s throat again and smiled against his skin. “Care to join us, my love?”
The fog of thrall faded from his eyes and Jordan groaned, hips thrusting harder than ever. He grabbed at Paul’s hips with his free hand, grinding up over and over until Samuel took pity on him, pressing down on his perineum again and he threw his head back against the pillow, coming hard into the pliant body above him. He smiled when Samuel wiped at his cheek and chased his fingers to kiss them.
“Have fun?” Samuel asked.
Jordan hummed happily, still foggy with the thrall daze and the orgasmic lethargy. He lapped at Paul’s wrist and eyed him speculatively. “How long do we have?”
“I can keep him under as long as you want, darling.”
They shifted Paul out of the way so that Samuel could stretch out and go back to petting at Jordan, who tilted his neck obligingly to give him access. He moaned when Samuel’s fangs sank into his skin, one hand reaching up to hold him in place and his other returning to his own dick.
“You taste so good when you’ve been fucked,” Samuel murmured.
“Feel good too.” His eyes were going glassy again, but he stayed loose-limbed and affectionate. “Can we keep him?”
Samuel scowled, but when Jordan looked at him like that… “You’re a brat.”
“You love it.”
“I love you.” He resumed stroking his fingers through his hair. “What happens when someone realises he’s missing?”
Jordan snuggled down against him, slinging one leg over his hips even though Samuel was still dressed and there were matters that needed dealing with. “Hope they send a cute police officer? You’ll deal with it.”
If Samuel had had a pulse, it would have been racing. But he didn’t, so he rolled his eyes and bit down into Jordan’s shoulder again.