Page 9 of Satan
“Rurik and I will go get your milkshake and fries,” Malik said, pushing back from the table.
“We will?” Rurik asked, a smirk playing at his lips.
Malik shot him an annoyed look, and Rurik’s smile widened into a grin. He loved riling Malik up. “Yes, we are,” Malik snapped. “Because you’re buying me a burger while we’re out.”
Hyram sighed and pushed back from the table, Everyone else did, too, but because William didn’t move, I remained seated, even as Malachi and Nolan filed from the chapel after Rurik and Malik. “If this escalates, William, I’m sending you two to the mother charter, no matter how you fucking feel about it,” Hyram warned him. “I know you think you can handle this. Hell, maybe you can.” William just stared at him, not saying a word. “But you don’t have to anymore. We’re family. You’re no longer a one-person team, you got me? If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for your husband.”
With that, Hyram left the chapel, shutting the door behind him and leaving me and William alone. I sucked in a sharp breath when William suddenly jerked to his feet, then spun my chair around, slamming it against the table, his hands resting on the armrests and pinning me in place.
His eyes were narrowed, his lips set into an angry frown. “You think I can’t tell when you’re masking, baby?” he growled. My heart dropped to my feet.Fuck, I was in trouble. He pressed a hard kiss to my lips, then straightened. “Drop your pants and bend over the table.”
Shit.
7
William
Chet liked to mask to hide his emotions from me when he thought he would be too much for me to handle. I understood he wanted to protect me just as I protected him, but that wasn’t his job. All I wanted from him was his honesty, his love, and his willingness to submit to me. I wanted toownhim, and I knew I did.
It’d been a few months since he’d tried this bullshit—this whole masking thing I fuckingdetested. If he wanted to mask around others, that was fine. But trying to hide fromme? Nah. That shit wasn’t sliding.
He’d broken one of my rules, and he knew it. Sometimes, I let it slide, but usually only if he was masking over something miniscule that would disappear in a matter of hours. But this? This was too big. This involved his father, involved our lives.
Involved hisfearand hisworry. This wasn’t something that was going to go away with a little treat.
Masking was not okay. Not in this scenario.
Chet slowly rose from his seat, his expression bleak. Hehatedpunishments, and because I knew he hated them, I sparingly handed them out. Bratting? I let it slide. He wasn’t Chet if he wasn’t being a brat, and I wasn’t out to be a brat tamer, as some Doms liked to call themselves. If I wanted someone always docile and following my every single command without snark, I wouldn’t have made Chet mine. I would’ve avoided his bratty ass completely.
“Sir…” There was a slight hitch to his voice, and his fingers curled and uncurled, his anxiety levels rising.
I gripped the side of his neck, tugging him a little closer to me. “Color, baby,” I rumbled. I wouldnotproceed with his punishment if he said anything other than a solid green. Everything in our relationship, punishments included, were one-hundred percent consensual.
“Yellow,” he rasped.
I backed him up to the table, then gripped him beneath his thighs, lifting him onto the tabletop. Pushing his thighs apart, I stepped between them, then planted my hands on either side of his hips. His hands came up to grip my cut, his fingers curling into the leather. “Talk to me. Tell me the very first thing that comes to your mind.”
“Fear,” he blurted.
Baby…Fuck. Sometimes, he broke my goddamn heart—what was left of it anyway.
“Of what?” I asked, resting my forehead on his, knowing he needed the connection. He tugged on my leather, holding meclose. His vulnerability practically rolled off of him, damn near suffocating me, and it just made me want to protect him more. Chet was more than capable of taking care of himself. I knew that with every fiber of my being. But it didn’t stop my protective urges in the least.
“Losing you. Being too much.” He sighed, moving back a little to meet my eyes. “I don’t want to add more on your plate. It’s so full as it is. You’re already dealing with so much?—”
“Secrecy leads to broken relationships, baby,” I rumbled. “I know you’re trying to not lean on me so much, but Iwantyou to. Don’t you get that? You’re mypurpose, Chet. From the moment I rescued you from that shitty club, you’ve been the center of my universe.” A small smile tilted his lips despite the pinched look still lingering around the corners of his eyes. “I know every single time you mask around me, Chet.” He winced, his smile falling. “I only let it slide sometimes because it’s usually something that will sort itself on its own. But this?” I slid my fingers into his hair, tugging lightly on the strands. His pupils blew wide, his shoulders drooping, a soft look entering his eyes.There was my pretty little submissive. “Don’t hide from me about something as big as this, Chet. Understand?”
He nodded. “I understand, sir.”
I kissed him, the kiss quick and chaste. “Color?”
His grip on my cut loosened, and his hands dropped to his lap. “Green, sir.”
I stepped back. “Good boy.” He preened despite facing his punishment. “Drop your pants and bend over the table, baby.” He slid down, his boots thumping on the hardwood floor, then unfastened his jeans and lowered them to beneath his asscheeks. Blowing out a soft breath, he turned and bent over the table, laying his palms flat beside his head.
He was so fucking good for me.
I rubbed my palm over his perfect ass, admiring the firm muscle. Chet worked hard to train his glutes and keep his body honed to perfection. Working out was an anxiety reliever for him, and I encouraged it by keeping him fed with healthy, high protein foods. He mostly saw it as a punishment since he was a lover of junk food—might even love the unhealthy shit more than me—but I would do everything in my power to take care of Chet properly.
