Ranger - Jericho's Boys #4 - ch. 16 (Patreon)

I've been staring at this chapter for three days and I can't figure out if its fucking garbage or not. Its mostly smut. No, that's not true. It's all smut. All 6000 words of it. I cannot guarantee its good smut or even adequate smut. I am still recovering from another stomach thing but I wanted to get this out to you guys. Unbeta'd/Unedited/Uneverything'd As always thanks to our Patreon overlords, I have to had the D word and just for safe measure the B one too. You'll see.

Aftercare in the next chapter and probably some straight talk about Seven's dad. This book is so fucking long. LOL. Hope it doesn't feel long though.

Seven

“Are you ever going to let me walk upstairs myself?” Seven asked between kisses, voice slightly breathless, legs still wrapped around Enzo’s waist.

“I didn’t know it was so important to you,” Enzo teased, biting Seven’s lower lip and tugging, before releasing it with a wet slap. “Worried I’m gonna drop you?”

Seven smiled, burying his face in Enzo’s neck momentarily, the smell of his cologne, sharp and woodsy, igniting something deep in his belly. “No, but I’m not weightless.”

“You’re not as big as you think you are, either,” Enzo said, voice low as he dipped his head to mouth at Seven’s throat.

“That’s mean,” Seven grumbled.

Enzo chuckled. “Why? I’m not little. Besides, I like that you’re smaller than me. It makes you easy to throw around.” Seven huffed, but held his tongue as Enzo kissed his nose, then his cheek, before pulling back, semingly reluctant as he released him to set his feet on the floor. “You sure you want to do this?”

Seven stumbled over the question, hesitating for a beat too long. When Enzo’s brows knitted together, Seven rolled his eyes, defenses up.

“I’m starting to think you don’t want to do this?” he countered, his tone sullen. “I thought you liked this kind of thing. You made a super huge deal out of it, tried to make me put it in writing that I would let you do this shit to me on the regular, enthusiastically, even.” When Enzo gave him a flat stare, Seven deflated, mumbling, “I’m just saying.”

Enzo snatched Seven’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “You’re so fucking mouthy,” he said, all traces of his affable b_yfriend—fiance?—disappearing in an instant. “It’s my job to take care of you. It’s my only job, especially in this room. And I don’t like that we haven’t taken the time to talk about limits, boundaries, aftercare. The important stuff. Because someone keeps dodging my attempts at a conversation.”

Seven huffed out a breath through his nose. He wasn’t dodging, not really. But once they had a talk, Enzo would see how much of a novice he truly was. Would he refuse to ever play with him like he wanted? But he didn’t say that.

He didn’t tell him that, though. “I’ve been a little busy with the whole my mom going to jail thing?”

Enzo snorted. “It’s cute that you think I can’t tell when you lie to me. It’s also cute that you think I won’t punish you for it.”

Seven arched a brow, shrugging a shoulder. “I fucking hope so cause so far, you’re all show, no go.”

Enzo smirked. “You’re testing my patience. I’m trying to take this slow because you’re new to this, but you’re not making it easy.”

“If we were any slower, moss would literally start to grow on us,” Seven whined. “Why not tell me what you have planned and I’ll tell you if I consent or not? Win-Win?” he asked.

Enzo blinked, clearly caught off guard, like that was something that hadn’t occurred to him. “I…I can do that. But it doesn’t negate a later conversation.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you, counselor. Loud and clear.”

Enzo smirked at him. “I’ve heard of people calling their doms a lot of things, but counselor is new, even for me.”

“I mean, Nico calls Mal Bunny,” Seven said with a shrug. “So it could be worse.”

Enzo blinked at him. “He…your kidding?”

Seven shook his head. “Nope. He never mentioned it?”

“Nope,” Enzo said. “Crazy.”

Seven waited patiently for him to start explaining what it is he wanted to do to him. When Enzo made no attempt to do so, Seven sighed in exasperation. “Well?”

Enzo’s hand closed around Seven’s neck, not squeezing, just holding him studying his face. “Maybe I should let you be in control, bossy,” he mused. “Is that what you want? Huh? Decide maybe you want to take the lead?”

God, no. 

He couldn’t imagine anything he wanted less. He’d waited so long for this. But there was no way he would give Enzo the satisfaction of an easy victory. “If it gets you to fuck me faster, sure. Get on the bed,” Seven lied, pointing to the mattress. “I’ll figure it out as I go.”

Enzo’s other hand slid into the hair at the nape of his neck, tightening until Seven hissed, forcing his gaze upwards. “Now, we both know that’s not what you want. Don’t we, brat?”

“Then give me what I want, Da--y,” he said, defiantly. “Or I’ll assume you’ve changed your mind about wanting me as a sub.”

It was a little manipulative but Enzo had made a point of telling him how he saw right through him. They stared at each other for a solid minute before Enzo sighed, his hands loosening to cup Seven’s face, tipping it upwards to bring their lips together, tongue dipping inside to tease over his.

“Can I blindfold you?” he asked between kisses.

Seven’s breath hitched, nodding, before giving a whispered, “Yes.”

Enzo gave a groan that went straight to Seven’s cock. “Can I restrain you? You’ll look so fucking pretty all tied up for me.”

Seven whimpered into his mouth. “Yes.”

“Can I spank you with something other than my hand?” Enzo asked, his kisses growing filthier by the second.

Seven nodded with another reedy whine. “Yes, please.”

“Fuck, I want you so bad,” Enzo said, almost like he wasn’t aware he’d said it out loud. “No matter how many times we do this, I can’t fucking get enough.”

Seven’s hands bunched into Enzo’s hoodie, keeping him close like he might change his mind. “Me, too,” Seven promised.

Enzo’s next kiss was all heat, no patience, making Seven’s toes curl before he pulled back to ask, “What do you say if you want to slow down?”

Seven had to fight to keep his brain online. “Yellow,” he panted, reeling him back in, nothing sweet about the way they feasted off each other.

“And if you want to stop?”

“Red.”

“Fuck.” Enzo gripped his shoulders and took a step back once again. Seven whined when he couldn’t follow. Enzo didn’t release him. “If I think you’ve reached your limits and you don’t safeword, I’ll do it for you, and I’ll make sure the next punishment you receive will be so miserable, you’ll never lie to me again…about anything.”

Seven was already breathless and a little giddy. “You’ll punish me more severely for not telling you that your punishment is too severe?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips. “What kind of lawyer logic is that?”

“See, this is how I know you’re not experienced, smart mouth,” Enzo said, looking him in the eye. “Because you’ve yet to learn that there’s ways to punish someone without ever causing them physical pain. Without touching them at all, actually.” 

A shiver ran over Seven. “Like…what?” he asked, expression dubious.

Enzo shrugged. “Making you kneel in the corner. Making you write lines. Making you recite case law for hours on end. Making you stand in front of the mirror and tell me ten things you love about yourself.”

Seven’s mouth fell open at the last one, heat rushing through him until he was certain he would start sweating. “You wouldn’t dare,” he gasped.

“Wouldn’t I, though?” Enzo asked, his smirk borderline diabolical. “I would find that one especially effective.”

“Why’s that?” Seven mumbled.

Enzo tipped his chin up, looking him in the eye as he punched a hole in his chest. “Because I know how much you hate you and how much I love you.”

That was somehow both the sweetest and most sinister thing anyone had ever said to him.

Seven scoffed. “I-That’s-You can’t-” Finally, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll safeword. If you try to make me say nice things about myself, I’ll safeword so fast.”

Enzo shook his head like Seven was being ridiculous.

“Then I suggest you behave,” Enzo said. “Or we’ll spend the rest of the night in front of the mirror while I list off every single thing I love about you. In painstaking detail, while you sit in silence.”

That sounded like hell on Earth.

“What do I get if I behave?” Seven asked, turning his back on Enzo.

“Are you trying to negotiate with me, right now?” Enzo asked, his amusement obvious.

“I am a law student,” Seven reminded.

Hands gripped his hips, dragging Seven back against him, letting him feel how hard he was as he wrapped his arms around his waist tightly, crushing him against him. Seven hated how much he wanted to melt into it. Somehow Enzo’s arms had become his safe space. And it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“If you behave, you get the previously aforementioned spanking you were begging for and—eventually—my dick,” he purred in his ear. “And if you’re a good b_y, I’ll take the blindfold off so you can watch me fuck you stupid. Though I have a feeling by then, that will be a non-issue.”

Seven’s gaze darted to the floor to ceiling mirror in the corner. Fuck. He’d forgotten about that. Would he look pretty with Enzo buried inside him? Seven tried not to let insecurity creep in and rob him of what he knew would be hot if he let go. It was nothing Enzo hadn’t seen before. Well, twice before. Had they only had sex twice? Seven wanted to know what they looked like together more than he worried that he’d feel too seen.

“Promise?” Seven finally asked, a little breathless.

Enzo tugged Seven’s earlobe with his teeth. “I don’t know. Do you promise to behave?”

“What…exactly does behaving entail…specifically?” Seven hedged.

Would behaving get him what he wanted? Or would Enzo think he didn’t need corrective measures?

“You really were meant to be a lawyer, baby. Never let anyone tell you otherwise,” Enzo said with a smile in his voice.

Seven shrugged. “I like to be clear on the terms and conditions.”

Enzo huffed out a breath against his neck, his hands sliding up under Seven’s shirt to tease his thumbs over the hardened peaks of his nipples. “Doing as your told.”

Seven moaned, leaning back against Enzo, pleasure tugging at something deep inside each time Enzo pinched the tender flesh between his fingers.

His hand slid into Seven’s pants, palming his erection, letting him rut against his hand for only a moment before saying,“I asked you a question.”

Seven wanted to stomp his foot and whine when Enzo’s hand disappeared. It wasn’t fair. Enzo wasn’t fighting fair. “Fine,” Seven grumped.

He gave an indignant squeak as Enzo slapped his ass, shocking him more than causing him pain. “Is that how you talk to me?”

Seven turned in his arms, looking up at him from beneath his lashes. “No, Da--y,” he said, biting his lip, hoping it read as contrition.

“Then try again, you little brat. You’re going to do as you’re told. Isn’t that right?”

Seven was already throbbing. “Yes, Da--y.”

Enzo dropped a chaste kiss on his pouting mouth. “Good b_y. Was that so hard?”

Harder than he would ever know.

Enzo rubbed their noses together, the sweet gesture disarming Seven. When he stepped back, Seven stumbled forward, making Enzo chuckle. Seven fought the urge to glare.

Enzo took a seat on the bed, leaning back on his palms. “Take off your clothes, fold them neatly on the chair, then come back to me. Do it slowly. I want to see all of you.”

Seven swallowed dryly, then turned his back. His skin prickled, weirdly shy.

His breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection. The mirror placement allowed Enzo a full 360 view of him.

It’s not like Enzo hasn’t seen you naked before. 

But this was different. More formal. More…exposed. Like stripping in front of an audience of one. It was the intentionality of it. He was stripping for Enzo’s benefit, for his pleasure because looking at Seven like this made Enzo happy.

He forced himself to move slowly, but refused to make a show of himself. Once he was done, he came back to stand between Enzo’s open legs. He expected him to touch him, but instead he swept his gaze over him, drinking him in until he started squirming under the scrutiny.

Just when Seven couldn’t take anymore, Enzo stood, stepping around him, leaving him standing there as he walked to his dresser, searching for something in the bottom drawer. A moment later he was pressing against his back, slipping something over Seven’s head. A blindfold. A thick, black, velvet blindfold that blocked all light. Seven’s hands spasmed at his sides as the world went dark, not even shadows playing behind his eyelids.

“Pretty,” Enzo murmured, stroking his cheek.

Seven’s insides were shaking. Neither the porn he’d watched nor his frank discussions with Nico had prepared him for…this. Whatever this was Enzo was doing. Seven didn’t want this…soft domming. It was supposed to hurt. It was supposed to make him forget everything.

He wanted it to hurt.

He was going to hurt him, right?

“I can hear your wheels turning from here, baby,” Enzo said, fingertips skating over his upper arms. “Not quite what you had in mind? Getting scared?”

“I’m not scared,” Seven mumbled, sounding petulant to his own ears.

He’d asked for this. So why did it feel like he was standing on the edge of a cliff with Enzo gently coaxing him closer, whispering sweet nothings while nudging him toward the fall?

“That’s good,” he said, lips brushing Seven’s jaw. “On the bed, brat baby. Hands and knees.”

Seven willed his limbs to comply, but he had no idea what to expect now that Enzo wasn’t playing by the rules as Seven expected. He stumbled, knee knocking into the mattress. Enzo didn’t right him or help him, just let him struggle, crawling up onto the bed, horribly overexposed without his clothes or his vision.

He jumped as Enzo’s fingertips dragged up his inner thigh, ears burning at Enzo’s soft chuckle.

“Legs open, pretty b_y.”

Seven frowned. Nico said when Mal punished him, his voice would grow cold, distant, devoid of emotion. But Enzo’s voice was nothing like that. His silky tone was confusing, enticing, like the devil whispering in his ear. Sexy and a little condescending.

Without his sight, Seven had no idea what to expect or when. Every other sense was heightened and it didn’t matter at all. He was still in the dark.

He widened his legs until it seemed lewd, tongue licking out to dart over his lower lip. “Like this?”

“Did I give you permission to speak?” Enzo asked softly, lips warm where they skimmed over his ass cheek, making Seven jump.

“No, Da--y.”

“Then hush.”

It was on the tip of Seven’s tongue to say ‘yes, Da--y’ but he knew that would only compound his troubles.

“Chest against the mattress,” he instructed.

Seven sank down, his ass in the air. Yeah, no. It was so much worse when he couldn’t see Enzo’s expression, when he couldn’t tell if he was doing well. If he was pleased with him.

Enzo’s fingers danced along Seven’s spine. “Arms down, hands by your knees.”

Seven frowned behind the blindfold, straightening his arms on either side until he was in the world’s dirtiest version of child pose. He waited for the next command, but was met with silence. He listened as Enzo moved around the room. He flinched as a drawer opened and closed, extra loud in the velvety darkness surrounding him. His breaths came faster as metal clinked against metal.

Something landed beside his leg, too rough to be skin, too warm to be steel. He bit down on his lip when Enzo tsked, forced to keep his head turned to the side.

“We need to work on your posture, baby. Hips up.” Seven’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as he did as Enzo instructed. But it wasn’t enough, something dragged across Seven’s belly, tapping it twice like a teacher correcting a dancer’s form. “Uh-uh. Arch your back. A little more. That’s much better.” Seven was about to tell him to go to hell when Enzo said, “Now hold it for me, sweet b_y.”

Seven melted.

No matter what he thought about himself, Enzo thought he was pretty, somehow Enzo thought he was perfect. Nico said he felt hottest when he and Mal played like this and he understood now. Seven never thought of himself as ugly, not really. But he was human. He had his insecurities like everyone else. And he was so…exposed.

Every inch of his pose felt purposeful, held open, held still, held captive to Enzo’s gaze. His thighs were shaking, skin prickling with awareness. He jolted as Enzo wrapped something buttery soft but sturdy—structured—just above his knees, first one, then the other.

Seven tried to squeeze his knees together, testing the give. There was none. Something was holding his legs open. A spreader bar of some kind. Seven bit down on his lip to muffle the fearful sound clawing up his throat. Enzo ignored Seven’s mewling, wrapping that same soft material around his wrists, binding them to his knees, forcing him to stay how he wanted him.

Something skimmed along Seven’s inner thigh, between his ass cheeks, then disappeared. Once more his brain tried to guess what it was. It wasn’t skin or metal, leather maybe, like the cuffs. It was thin but hard, like a piece of bamboo or a cane. There was no way Enzo would start with a cane…right?

Oh, God.

That would hurt.

“Are you shaking already?” Enzo marveled. “I’ve barely touched you.”

“That’s the problem,” Seven muttered under his breath.

He barely had time to acknowledge something slicing through the air, before Fire stole his breath, making him hiss in a pain too sharp to describe. Was that a…riding crop? He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat.

“What was that, smart mouth?” Enzo asked. Seven clamped his lips shut with a whimper. “That’s what I thought.”

Enzo didn’t spank him again. Not yet. Instead, he seemed to revel in Seven’s torment, dragging the leather loop of the crop along Seven’s skin…between his legs, behind his balls, along his leaking cock.

“You’re already making such a mess all over our bed,” Enzo marveled, giving another disappointed tsk. “Gonna have to invest in rubber sheets if you keep leaking all over the place like this.”

Seven whined with embarrassment. He’d never thought he’d be into degredation, but when Enzo teased like this, he only grew harder…and wetter.

“Oh, don’t be shy,” Enzo said. “I know you can’t help it. Besides, you’re so beautiful like this. Just like I pictured. Like art.”

Seven blushed at the compliment. He preferred the taunting. The sweet stuff made him feel too raw, like an exposed nerve. His shoulders were already starting to ache from the awkward position, but he was ready for more, whatever that entailed.

“Since this is your very first time playing like this, lets start with ten, hmm?”

Ten? Was he serious? Ten was nothing. Nico’s maintenance spankings were no less than twenty-five on a bad day. Did he think Seven couldn’t take twenty? Was he humoring him? Did he not want to do this with him?

“You think I can only take ten?” he blurted, immediately wanting to suck the words back in.

The sharp crack of the crop echoed, the sensation slicing through all his bravado, dragging a strangled cry from him. Enzo’s hand followed, soothing over his heated flesh. Seven hated how much he loved Enzo’s soft touches.

“Do you not trust me?” Enzo asked, his fingertips tracing over the welt the crop had left behind.

Him not trust Enzo? It was Enzo who didn’t think Seven was strong enough or brave enough or tough enough for…whatever it was he wanted of him.

“I-I let you tie me up. How can you ask me that?” Seven said, perspiration clinging to his skin like the pain the crop left behind.

“Because you keep questioning me. If you trust me, relax and let me give you what you’ve been begging for,” Enzo said. “Now count.”

Count?

“T-two,” he managed, voice a bit strangled.

“That was one, sweetheart,” Enzo said in that soft, mocking tone. “Are you already so gone, that you can’t count?”

“You hit me b-before,” Seven said, head spinning, indignant.

Enzo’s soft chuckle was as sexy as it was infuriating. “That was a reminder.”

“That’s n-not fair,” Seven said through gritted teeth.

This time Enzo’s laugh was borderline malevolent. “What on earth made you think this was about fairness, baby? In here, you belong to me. Remember? This is what you’ve been begging for. What did you call it? A reset? I’m trying to give you what you asked for. You’re the one who was mad I was only giving you ten. Consider the earlier one a gift.”

Seven squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold, concentrating on the softness below his cheek—the texture of the sheets, the faint scent of Enzo’s cologne lingering in the linen, grounding him—instead of the ache already growing in his limbs. “You’re just teasing me.”

He bit back a moan as Enzo’s hand closed around his cock, rubbing his finger around the wetness at the tip. “And you’re already dripping for me. What does that say about you, hmm?”

Seven couldn’t stop the desperate moan or the way he tried to fuck into Enzo’s tightened fist.

Then it was gone, dragging a sad sound from him.

The next blow landed just below the curve of his bottom, right in the crease, stealing any thoughts of Enzo’s hand on his aching cock.

He wheezed at the searing pain. “Two,” he choked out.

The crop slicing through the air made for a sinister whisper, the crack gunshot loud as it connected with his sweaty skin. The sound he made was both embarrassing and pitiful. Something between a yelp and a whimper but he couldn’t help it, somehow it was worse on wet skin. He blinked back tears as his heart bounded against his ribs. “Th-Three.”

He waited for the next blow, but instead, the bed dipped, Enzo soothing his palm across Seven’s forehead, sweeping his hair from his damp skin. “Color, baby?” he asked, his real voice bleeding through the sugary sweet one that had Seven’s emotions turned up to a thousand.

He couldn’t stop the trembling. It had to be adrenaline. Or fear. Or arousal. Or all three, braided tight in his bloodstream. “Green.”

He jumped when Enzo’s fingers gently played over the wounded flesh of his bottom. “You’re doing so well for me. I wish you could see how you look right now, three strokes in and already so ruined. My pretty baby.”

Seven wanted to curl himself up in Enzo’s words like a soft blanket. But there was no time.

The next two slaps came back to back, criss-crossing each other, dragging a desperate sob from him. The sting of his humiliation was almost worse than the one across his backside. Enzo was right. There was no way he’d have taken more than ten. He was fighting for his life, vulnerable, leather biting into his skin. Enzo could do anything he wanted to him.

“Forgetting something, baby?” Enzo asked, thumb dragging from Seven’s rim to behind his balls.

Forgetting? Forgetting what? He couldn’t think, his thoughts were a plastic bag caught by the wind, constantly just out of reach.

Enzo made another disappointed sound. “Do we need to start over?”

Counting. He was supposed to be counting.

“Four. Five,” Seven corrected quickly, everything coming into stark relief at the idea of starting over.

“That’s my good b_y.”

The burn lingered, spreading warmth like ink bleeding through paper but Enzo’s praise burned brighter. It cut through the pain and the noise. It made it all worth it.

“You’re doing so well for me. Only five more.”

Five?

God, how had it only been five?

Well, six really, but apparently, Enzo wasn’t counting the first one, though Seven felt each one of them etched into his swollen flesh like a tattoo.

Another sob threatened to escape but he caught himself, panting through it, trying to pretend it was just breath, just the rhythm, not emotion, not something he couldn’t handle.

He flinched, anticipating the next blow, teeth bared, not in defiance but desperation. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of him.

“Breathe,” Enzo soothed, guiding him with a hand between his taut shoulder blades. “Just breathe, baby. In through your nose…hold it…out through your mouth. Good. That’s good. We’re already halfway there. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Seven choked on the emotion clogging his chest at Enzo’s words, trying to quell the way his insides shook, as the salt-sweet scent of sweat and anticipation clung to the air like smoke. Enzo’s hand disappeared, his weight shifting.

Seven whined, a moment before another blow landed, setting fire to his already stinging skin. It was like death by a thousand cuts. Surely, his skin had been flayed open. Surely, that was blood running down his thighs and not perspiration.

Every subsequent slap of the crop had him drifting further and further from himself, his awareness melting like candle wax until there was nothing but the knife-sharp pain of Enzo’s punishment and the soft crooning praise that had tears flowing into the sheets below.

By the time he managed a slurred, “Nine,” His thoughts were as wispy as spiderwebs, thin, fragile strands breaking apart with every slap, every praise, every soft drag of Enzo’s hand.

It took him longer than it should for him to realize the annoying keening sounds were coming from him, but he couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to. It was like he had lost all control of his body. He would have laughed if he was able. He’d handed total control to Enzo and he was giving him everything he’d demanded of him.

“One more, sweet b_y and we’re all done. Color?” Enzo asked.

“Green…” he mumbled, then sniffled.

If he’d expected mercy on the last blow, he was mistaken. The final strike came low on his thighs, wrenching another high-pitched cry from him.

“T-Ten,” he managed, then said it again, in case he hadn’t heard him, or it wasn’t clear. “Ten.”

He couldn’t handle another one. 

The riding crop clattered to the floor. What happened now? Would Enzo still fuck him? Had he passed the test? Was Seven in too much of a state to bother? His answer came in the form of large hands wrapping around his spread thighs, Enzo’s flattened tongue dragging over Seven’s rim, pulling a strangled cry from him.

“Fuck, you taste amazing,” Enzo muttered, spearing his tongue against him. “I’ve been dying to do this since we started. Every time I’d spank you, you’d clench up right here and all I wanted to do was eat you alive. It was so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot, baby.”

Seven whimpered, but couldn’t form words, lost in the delicious wet heat of Enzo’s mouth and the throbbing pain left behind by his punishment. How was he so good at this? He worked his mouth like he planned to make a meal out of him, biting softly around the edges, before attempting to fuck his tongue inside. When he breached him just the slightest bit, he groaned like Seven was some delicacy he planned to savor. 

“You did so well, baby,” Enzo praised, head dipping lower to drag over the seam of his balls. “You look so pretty. Your skin was made for this. I can’t wait for you to see how beautiful you are.”

Seven tried to laugh, but it came out as another dry catch of a sob. There was no way he looked anything but a mess. Tears the blindfold hadn’t absorbed were hot on his cheeks. His nose was running, drool drying on his chin. He was covered in sweat and snot, his thighs still shaking.

But he wasn’t going to argue. Not when Enzo’s clevor tongue had his eyes rolling behind his lids, a dizzing euphoria making him feel high. Was this sub-space?  Nico had talked about it. Seven had thought he’d experienced it his first night with Enzo but it was nothing like this. He felt delirious, removed from his body, but somehow still ignited by every touch.

“Did I d’good?” he asked, wishing he could wipe his face.

“So good, baby,” Enzo said, sounding as wrecked as Seven felt. “You ready for your reward now?”

Seven was nodding before he finished his question. “Yes, please. Please.”

Enzo’s two slick thick fingers replaced his tongue, massaging over his sensitive rim until both pressed in, dragging another strangled sound from him. It was too much, the burn intense as Enzo forced his way inside. 

“Relax, baby. You’re gonna break my fingers,” Enzo said, folding over him to drag his lips along his spine. “Fuck, you’re so hot inside. Can’t wait to see how you look when I’m splitting you open on my cock.” 

Seven whined, trying to fuck himself on Enzo’s fingers even as he forced himself to relax. When Enzo pulled out and started teasing a third finger against his hole, Seven made a noise of complaint. 

“Jus’ fuck me, please,” he slurred. “Wan’ it to hurt a little. Want you to make me take it.” 

“Jesus. You really are perfect.” 

Seven groaned as his wrists were suddenly freed, his shoulders screaming in protest. He tried to hold himself up, but his arms wouldn’t cooperate.

“Just lay there, baby. I got you. Let Da--y do the work.”

“‘kay,” he said, a million miles away. 

Enzo tossed the restraints onto the floor, taking their place between Seven’s thighs, sliding an arm beneath him and dragging him into a sitting position, his back to Enzo’s chest. Seven’s head lolled back onto Enzo’s shoulder. 

At some point in the proceedings, Enzo had lost his clothes. The course hair on his thighs and the sweat on their bodies made the welts on his ass sting like he was sitting in lemon juice. He whined, but didn’t ask him to move or stop. 

Enzo latched his mouth onto Seven’s throat, hand working between them, the squelch of lube telling him he was slicking up his cock. A moment later it was pressing against Seven’s entrance, feeling far too big. Enzo’s arm was an iron bar around his waist, holding him still as he breached him. 

Seven hissed in pain, instinctively jolting away from it. Enzo’s teeth sank into Seven’s neck in a hard bite that felt like a warning, before growling, “Hold still.”

Seven let his body go limp as Enzo pressed into him one achingly slow inch at a time, hissing like Seven was burning him from the inside. 

“Wanna see. Wanna watch. You said I could watch,” Seven babbled. “You said if I was good, I could watch.”

“You’re awfully demanding, baby,” Enzo said, thrusting up as he slammed Seven down. 

His startled cry was loud in the large room, tears escaping only to be absorbed by the velvet mask. “You’re so big,” he mumbled. “Too big. “s’unecessary.”

Seven gasped as Enzo pulled the mask free, tossing it wildly. Seven blinked until his eyes adjusted and the mirror came into focus, too sharp, too honest. He looked wrecked. Hair damp and sticking to his forehead, jaw slack, eyes glassy. Enzo loomed behind him, massive and calm, hands molded to Seven’s hips like he was sculpted just to fit there.

It was obscene. It was beautiful.

And worst of all, it looked like they were made for each other, like they were always meant to fit this way. 

Enzo held Seven in place, lazily fucking into him. Seven could only stare, riveted at the sight of them. Enzo looked so much bigger like this, felt so much bigger inside as he took him into his body over and over. Seven had never had anyone use him like this, but there was no other way, his limbs were useless, tingling and numb as the blood rushed back where it belonged.

Enzo seemed to prefer him this way, pliant and pliable, boneless in his lap. Like a pretty doll he could position however he pleased. His pretty little human-shaped fleshlight. 

And the terrifying thing was that Seven didn’t feel humiliated.

He felt…wanted.

Like every bruise had been etched with care, like every sound dragged from his throat was proof of how good he could be if he let go.

“God, you made to be wrecked like this,” Enzo said. “Look at you. You’re gonna think about this, about me, using you, owning you, every single time you sit down for the rest of the week.” 

“Hope so. Wan’ that. Wanna feel you all the time,” Seven said, without thought. 

“You always take my cock so well. Look at you. Look at us. Look how fucking hot we are together. You’re such a good b_y. So good for me. So pretty. So tight around me. I could fuck you like this forever.”

“Do you mean it?” Seven blurted, without thinking, a whisper, almost subconscious.

Enzo didn’t miss a beat. Just kissed his temple and whispered, “I’ve never meant anything more. Look at how fucking gorgeous you are.”

He forced his gaze to the reflection and saw everything he didn’t want to believe. That Enzo could love him even when he was crying, even when he looked puffy or bloated or ugly. That maybe he didn’t have to break himself into pieces to be loved. 

Seven bit back another sob as Enzo watched them, his eyes never leaving their reflection in the glass. One hand slid up to tease at Seven’s nipple, while the other—finally—closed around his neglected cock, stroking him with purpose. Seven moaned, eyes rolling, trying to fuck up into Enzo’s fist, then down onto his cock.

His head tipped back, mouth parted, tears springing to his lashes, not from pain, but from…everything. The way Enzo touched him, soothed him, fucked him, saw him…loved him.

Enzo’s mouth was all over him, teeth scraping his shoulder, lips mouthing at the column of his neck as he drove into him at a frantic pace.

“So fucking wet,” he grunted, using the leaking fluids to ease the glide of his hand. “I can feel how close you are but don’t you dare come until I say.”

Seven made a sad sound in the back of his throat. “I can’t—I can’t—don’t stop. Please. Want to feel you come inside before I do. Please, Da--y,” he panted.

“You beg so sweetly when you’re close to getting what you want, but the rest of the time you’re such a brat,” Enzo said through gritted teeth, driving up into him while Seven continued to babble nonsense at him. 

“Wanna come. Please,” he begged, immediately proving his point. “So close. Please, Da--y.”

Enzo released something akin to a snarl, hips stuttering as he found his release, jerking Seven as he filled him up, grinding against him like he was marking him from the inside out. “Now you can come.”

The words lit up his nerves like tinder, flaring fast, hot…uncontrollable, like a house fire in a glass room. He shattered against Enzo’s hand, pulse stuttering, tears leaking unchecked as his body gave in, drowning in the pleasure overtaking him. 

Seven collapsed into Enzo’s arms, boneless, weightless. He didn’t realize he was still crying until Enzo started wiping at his tears with the side of his hand.

“You’re okay, baby. You did so well. I got you.”