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Zazz was exactly where he wanted to be. Face-down, bruised and bloodied with his wrists tied up behind his back using the chain hanging from his neck. The taste of blood, both his own and his latest victims, was making him salivate, slobbering as his legs twitched.
"I don't have all day, mutt." Oh that edge of anger and fire in Zavok's voice was dizzying, pairing perfectly with the jolts of pain in his shoulders from having his arms pulled back further. Zazz barely registered the words themselves, too drunk on the sound and physical sensations alone. "Tighten those pathetic excuses for legs before I throw you out."
There was no use replying, not when his tongue refused to work where it was lolling out of his mouth, only to obey the orders. So Zazz re-crossed his ankles, squeezing his thighs together harder all the while trying to keep his balance on the tip of his talons. Zavok sure wasn't helping, if anything he made it harder by adjusting his grip on the chain and Zazz's wrists.
It made the throbbing, pulsing heat between his legs even worse, for both of them. Because Zavok's dick was pressed firmly against both Zazz's cock and cunt, both drooling just as badly as his mouth.
"You made a mess, dog." The rage. The zinging lust and danger was both a promise and a threat that made Zazz's vision swim. So it was good for him that Zavok was pushing his face into the desk, into the blood he'd smeared on the wood while trying to distract the Don. "Clean it up."
Oh yeah… Zazz was exactly where he wanted to be.