Page 22 of Trapped

Arsène moves up his mask a tiny bit to give himself more space to manoeuvre, then sticks out his tongue and licks at my crown, lapping up pre-cum with hooded eyes and a husky moan. Desire sizzles inside my body, thick and heavy. “We’ll learn as we go. Don’t we always? By becoming a brother in our brotherhood, you have the world at your feet. Want to become an artist? You can, because you’ll always have more than enough clients. By becoming mine, you’ll get whatever your heart desires. Want me to crawl after you, sedate you, then fuck you?” He flicks once more at my slit and I let out an uncontrolled groan that makes him smirk. “At your service,” he whispers. Then he places his entire mouth on my tip and suckles lightly, making my eyes roll back and my toes curl with pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” I gasp, searching for leverage with my hand. I find a pillar close enough and hold on for dear life as Arsène licks the underside of my cock, sliding his mouth all the way down. He captures one of my balls and suckles on it lightly while his other hand fondles the other one, making them heavy as arousal sizzles through the pit of my stomach. Then he pulls back, licking and sucking my shaft as he slowly, teasingly makes his way back to my glans. It’s oozing pre-cum once more, and when his tongue circles around the head, I let out a long and unhinged moan. His eyes open, and his gaze sparkles when he catches me watching, mouth agape, unable to hide my emotions. They are raw and bare, out there for him to snatch up and keep. The thought should scare me, should be enough for me to bark out some bullshit and bolt, but I can’t. My defenses have crumbled and this is all that’s left of me.

“Your mouth is so skilled,” I let out. He must have done this a thousand times.

Arsène pulls off my cock with a soft plop. “It’s because it comes naturally, you’ll see. And yes—” He slides his tongue over my shaft, while the fingers of his other hand reach between my legs and crawl toward my ass, “I have a lot of experience. But you have nothing to worry about. I chose you, remember? A choice I don’t take lightly. Besides, the brotherhood likes to fuck. And if you ever want to play with someone else, you can.” He suckles at my crown while his fingers grab the plug, sliding it deeper into my ass until it hits my prostate. He hums when I let out a hiss, followed by a moan, then picks up the sliding rhythm of the plug that matches his tongue and mouth. It feels fucking divine. Biting my lip, I try to contain myself, but the sounds of pleasure keep slipping through.

“As long as we play together, mon papillon,” Arsène adds. Keeping his mouth open for my tip to nestle on his tongue, he looks up at me. The plug mercilessly drives onto my g-spot, and I can already feel my body preparing for my climax, toes curling and balls drawing up. He doesn’t need to ask, I know what he wants. And it makes my body throb with the need to come. He plunges the plug another few times forward and then I erupt on a startled cry, body shaking and cock emptying inside Arsène’s mouth and on his tongue. I can hear him humming and slobbering around my glans through the buzzing in my ears, hear my own mewls and whines as I slowly come down from my high. When I open my eyes, I catch him licking my cock clean, the sight making me want to get hard again instantly, though that’s not going to happen. But fuck, he’s so gorgeous. The most popular guy at school, a member of the elite. And he’s on his knees for me, after having told me that he chose me.

Me. Robin Pinault, third son of Marie-Pierre Pinault, Directeur Général of the National Police.

Arsène wants me.

“Now then,” climbing back onto his feet, Arsène slides his mask back in place, then makes sure to reorganize my pants for a second time tonight. “Shall we go downstairs then? It’s past time and our brothers must be feral by now.”

The smile he sends my way is wicked and cruel, and like the prey I am to him, I feel my guard rising in trepidation. “Past time for what?”

He raises a brow. “Well, for your initiation, of course.”

“Initiation?” I echo, dully.

“You’re about to become part of our brotherhood, mon papillon. We talked about this?” He grabs my hand, and I feel his bodyguards rounding up behind us as we make our way downstairs. Cornering me.

“Where are we going?” I ask when we reach the basement. It’s quiet here, and damp. My heart rattles wildly in my chest.

Arsène squeezes my hand, then lets go, only to show me the palm of his hand. Two pills are displayed. “Time for another little game. Trust me?” He shoots me a wink.

No! My fingers linger as I take them in.

“Are they any different?”

“Yes. One is white, the other one is black.”

I snort and he snickers in return. “Yeah, I can see that. But are they—”

He clicks his tongue. “Just the colour.” When I slowly reach for the black one, he cocks his head. “Really? I would have sworn you to be more of a white-pill boy.”

“Fuck off.”

He lets out an obscene laugh, watching me swallow the black one down with a sip of the water Enzo hands out to me.

“Attaboy. Now, come, my butterfly. Let’s make those wings fly.”

8

ROBIN

Joy. Pure, effortless. It shines brightly, twisting my entire sight into glittery objects.

We’re walking a narrow corridor, through which Zin guides us, with Enzo at our backs. Portraits of important looking people from the past leave the walls, come flying to me in a creepy salute, and I reach out my hand in an attempt to grab hold of them, chuckling when I’m too slow and watch them flutter away, out of reach. Everything is glowing and glittery, and it’s so pretty. To my side, chairs screech forward by themselves, wanting to keep up with our little group. They can’t keep up. Nope, nooo…

“Too slow,” I hear myself mutter, then giggle at the echoing sound in my head. Arsène turns to face me, a slow, crooked smile on his face. His eyes seem so large, so dark, so beautifully shaped. He looks like an elf. And his arm… it’s still wrapped around my waist. “Too warm.” My hand touches down to his. “But your fingers feel good.”

He pinches my chin and I tip back my head, chortling. As far as my eyes can see, I see glitter. Oh, his arm is so nice against my nape. So strong. “It’s because you’re wearing all these clothes, papillon,” he muses, and my stomach flutters deliciously.

“All these…” I giggle once more. “Clothes. That’s a good one.”

“We’ll get rid of them in a moment, pretty boy. Patience, we’re nearly there.”

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