Page 10 of A Mistake of Identity
“Pity.” Gabriel withdrew his fingers but kept the thong pulled aside. Ellis heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. “We’ll have to fix that. I prefer to feel everything when I take what’s mine.”
Ellis’ heart stuttered at the possessive tone, but the sound of the wrapper should have brought relief, not disappointment. The thin string cut into his hip where Gabriel held it aside, the sensation grounding him in reality. Condoms were non-negotiable, his one absolute rule that kept him safe and alive inthis profession. He’d learned that lesson early and hard on the streets.
So why was his gut clenching with want? Why did some reckless, dangerous part of him ache to feel Gabriel bare inside him, to be marked and claimed by his cum? Everything about his response to Gabriel went against years of careful rules, of walls built to keep him safe.
Ellis forced the feeling down. The possessive talk—they were just heat-of-the-moment words that would evaporate by morning. He knew better than to believe a client’s promises. They all made them. They all lied.
Gabriel
Gabriel thrust his full length into the tight, welcoming heat, groaning when he bottomed out. Beneath him, Ellis let out a moan muffled by the sheets. He ran his free hand up Ellis’ back before returning to grip his side, holding him in a bruising grasp. These marks would serve as the first of many reminders come morning. When he pulled out, he did so slowly, savoring the drag before slamming back in ruthlessly.
He thought back to Ellis in the car, how the man’s pulse had raced beneath Gabriel’s fingers, how his nervousness had made him stumble over that client’s list. His little bird had been almost shy then, trying to maintain his professional facade. But Gabriel had felt Ellis’ hardness pressed against his thigh when he’d pinned him to the leather seat, just like now, aroused without a single touch to his cock. His escort’s body had betrayed him twice now, responding to Gabriel’s dominance in ways no practiced professional should.
Ellis didn’t just accept rough treatment—he craved it. The evidence was there in every tremor, every desperate push back against Gabriel’s cock. And Gabriel had every intention of giving him exactly what he needed.
“So perfect for me,” Gabriel purred, tightening his grip until Ellis whimpered. “Taking everything I give you so beautifully.” He watched a shudder run through Ellis’ frame at the praise, noted how the boy’s cock dripped steadily ontohis thousand-thread-count sheets, staining the Egyptian cotton. Others might break under Gabriel’s ruthlessness, but not Ellis. No, Ellis took everything Gabriel gave him and asked for more, every barely-stifled moan that spoke of genuine need rather than practiced performance.
Gabriel had known from the moment Ellis had knelt so prettily that he wouldn’t be letting this one go. But now, feeling how Ellis matched his intensity, how he yielded without breaking, how he pushed back against every brutal thrust—now Gabriel was certain. This wasn’t just about owning Ellis’ contract anymore. He wanted everything: every genuine response, every crack in that careful mask, every desperate sound Ellis tried to swallow back. And soon, he would tear away that cheap lace—the last reminder of Ellis’ other life—and replace it with silk and fine fabrics worthy of what was his.
“Tell me how it feels, petit oiseau,” Gabriel commanded, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust. He needed to hear Ellis’ voice break with pleasure, needed more proof that his little bird was as unbreakable as he seemed.
Gabriel tightened his grip, slamming into Ellis with renewed force. Each thrust pulled fresh sounds from the man beneath him, desperate little noises that proved Gabriel right. He drew his hand away from the bruising grip and spanked his little bird’s flank, eliciting a low hiss. A red patch blossomed on Ellis’ skin.
“Perfect,” Gabriel growled, savoring how Ellis arched into the sting. He released Ellis’ neck, shifting to grip both hips in a punishing hold as he leaned back.
Keeping just the tip of his cock inside his little bird’s quivering hole, Gabriel seized the cheap lace in both hands. With one sharp motion, he tore the fabric from Ellis’ body, drawing a startled gasp as the string snapped against sensitive skin. Red lines marked where the thong had dug into those perfecthips before surrendering. He tossed the ruined scrap aside with disgust before bringing his palm down hard across Ellis’ now-bare ass.
Each strike painted his canvas in shades of red, marking what was his. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the room, punctuated by Ellis’ increasingly desperate gasps.
Gabriel scowled, still unsatisfied despite Ellis’ sharp cries, the expensive sheets twisted in his grip, the way he writhed between trying to escape the intensity while arching into each thrust. He craved deeper surrender - wanted his little bird bent over his knee, wanted to draw out those pleas for mercy until they transformed into desperate begging. But that would have to wait. That particular lesson deserved to be savored, perhaps as a forthcoming punishment. Gabriel slammed into him again, his hands forcing Ellis’ hips to cant at the precise angle that would brush the man’s prostate with each thrust.
Ellis’ responsiveness was intoxicating. Each moan, each tremor, each instinctive roll of his hips to meet Gabriel’s brutal pace proved this wasn’t the calculated performance of an experienced escort. His little bird’s genuine pleasure fed something primal in Gabriel’s chest, something that demanded more. He drove into Ellis relentlessly, forcing him to surrender more of his weight to the bed and into Gabriel’s steadying grip. Ellis’ balance faltered, leaving him practically suspended in Gabriel’s hands as pleasure blazed up Gabriel’s spine. He ground deep as his release claimed him, silently cursing the latex barrier that kept him from marking Ellis properly, from claiming him completely.
A desperate movement caught his attention as Ellis tried to slip a hand beneath himself.
“Please, sir,” Ellis moaned, voice breaking beautifully. “Please, please...”
Gabriel pinned the wandering hand to the bed, savoring the way Ellis’ whole body trembled at the denial. He leaned close to Ellis’ ear, letting his breath ghost over sensitive skin. “You’ll only come when I allow it.” His words drew a helpless whimper from Ellis as Gabriel traced the shell of his ear with his tongue, already planning all the ways he would make his little bird beg.
Gabriel pulled out, disposing of the condom in the trash can by the nightstand. Placing another condom within easy reach, he observed Ellis, who remained motionless where Gabriel had placed him, save for the fine tremors running through his frame. Such perfect obedience. Gabriel ran his hand up the man’s smooth, warm back, savoring the flex of lean muscles beneath his fingertips.
“Exquisite,” Gabriel murmured, his cock already stirring again at the sight. It should have been too soon—he hadn’t recovered this quickly since his university days. But something about Ellis stripped away years of careful control.
Gabriel seized Ellis and flipped him onto his back, dragging him to the center of the bed. Too impatient to do more than discard his shoes and suit jacket, he gripped Ellis’ thighs and splayed them wide against his hips. Ellis’ cock strained against his stomach, precum pooling on flushed skin as tremors wracked his frame. Yet his face was hidden behind his arm, his other hand twisting in the sheets, betraying the internal battle raging beneath his skin. Despite his obvious arousal, despite how his body melted beneath Gabriel’s touch, Ellis was still clinging to that professional distance.
But Gabriel had witnessed the truth in every response tonight—how Ellis surrendered not from years of practice, but from something deeper, something that longed to submit, to please, to belong. The thought made Gabriel’s blood burn hotter.
He needed to shatter that final barrier, to demolish the facade Ellis desperately maintained. He wanted to possess everyinch of this man, to have him sinking to his knees not because he was paid to, but because something in him craved it as deeply as Gabriel needed to command it. To own him so completely that Ellis would forget there was ever a time he hadn’t belonged to Gabriel.
“Uncover your face,” Gabriel ordered, his voice rough with need. Ellis hesitated, head turning away as that telling blush crept down his neck and chest. Gabriel watched the war play out as Ellis’ body instinctively curved toward him even as his mind struggled to maintain control. “Now.”
When Ellis finally lowered his arm and met his gaze, Gabriel saw that same conflict in his eyes: raw desire battling ingrained professionalism. His gaze caught on the bruise marring Ellis’ cheek—someone else’s mark, someone else’s claim. The sight made something dark twist in his chest. He slapped the unmarked cheek—just hard enough to sting, deliberately holding back, though he wanted nothing more than to paint over that other man’s bruise with his own claim.
But that wasn’t something you did with a stranger, not without proper negotiations and boundaries. For now, he would have to content himself with watching Ellis’ cock twitch against his stomach, a small whimper escaping those perfect lips that had nothing to do with practiced performance and everything to do with need.
“You will listen when I give you an order the first time. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Ellis breathed, the word barely a whisper.
