I never expected I’d be the type to enjoy this sort of torture. I didn’t think I would’ve fared well in an abduction scenario, but this was different. While Zeke had taken away my options, I knew I still had an out. Perhaps that was why I maintained my sanity, why I looked forward to whatever demented thing he had in store for me next.
I left the bathroom and headed to the guest room where I kept my things. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before padding on bare feet toward the hallway. I wanted to get started on breakfast. I knew it would be an hour before Zeke and Case came up from the gym, so I had some time. However, I wasn’t the sort to rush things when I went to work.
As I reached the stairs I heard someone groan. I paused just outside Zeke’s bedroom door.
“Who fucking owns you?” Zeke’s deep voice bellowed.
“You, Zeke,” Case cried out.
I took a step closer until I was in the doorway. Neither man saw me because they were facing away from the door. Zeke had Case bent over his bed, his cock shoved deep inside him.
“That’s right. I own you. Your body belongs to me and only me.”
Case grunted as Zeke fucked him roughly, slamming into him. It was hard to believe that we’d all been asleep not even ten minutes ago and now Zeke was brutally fucking Case as though he’d been storing up his energy for days.
“Who do you want plowing this ass, pretty boy?”
“You, Zeke. Only you.”
My heart tightened at Case’s words. They sounded desperate yet sincere. It caused a queasy feeling to ignite in my gut. Could that be true? Could Case be slipping out of my grasp already? We’d only been here a few days. Based on the way he’d curled up next to me, admitting he would sleep in a cage rather than a bed just so he could be near me, made me believe that wasn’t true.
“I own you, pretty boy,” Zeke growled.
The light spilling from the bathroom allowed me to make out both of them. Zeke’s hands curled over Case’s shoulders as he jerked him closer every time his hips thrust forward causing Case to grunt and moan. He did that with me, too. When I fucked Case, I could be as rough as I wanted and he was usually begging and pleading for me to come in his ass.
“You should be honored that I give you my cock, pretty boy. Grateful that I waste any of my time on you,” Zeke continued.
“I am, Zeke. Fuck. I want you to own me. Every part of me.”
That sickening feeling turned to dread as my heart lurched into my throat. It was one thing for Case to agree to those things when it was part of the game we were playing. Like the time in the basement. I had understood what Zeke was doing. The humiliation only made it hotter. But they didn’t know I was here. Case didn’t realize I was watching, listening. He was saying these things because he wanted to please Zeke. Not because humiliating me was going to get me off.
“By the time I’m done with you, I will own every part of you,” Zeke declared as he reached around Case and jerked him upright, Case’s back pressing up against Zeke’s chest. The Sadist’s hand wrapped around Case’s throat as he continued to fuck him, his hips jerking forward while Case pressed against him.
“Every fucking part of you,” Zeke reiterated. “You’ll be begging me for scraps. I’ll be the reason you wake up, the reason you breathe. I’ll fill your every thought.”
“Yes,” Case groaned. “Fuck, yes.”
“Tell me,” Zeke insisted. “Tell me who you fucking belong to.”
“You, Zeke. Only you.”
For a second, I thought I would vomit, but I choked it down as I tore my gaze away. I forced my legs to move, rushing down the stairs. I stumbled through the living room and right to the kitchen. I needed water. Hell, I needed air.
When Tank stared up at me from his position by the back door, I took that as a sign. I hurried to let him out, then walked out onto the back deck. The sun was just coming up, the morning breeze cool, a new day starting.
Yet here I was, wondering if maybe we could go back to yesterday.
Better yet, last week.
SIXTEEN
ZEKE
Wednesday, October 17
AFTER BREAKFAST, I INFORMED MY fuck toys we would be going to Indiana for the day. The pretty boy seemed pleased by this information, the cowboy not so much. However, they both dressed when I instructed, then joined me in my truck.
I had asked that they dressed appropriately for a business setting and I was rather impressed. Both were wearing slacks and dress shirts, ironed and immaculate. I figured since they worked for Trent Ramsey, they were accustomed to dressing the part when necessary and I wasn’t disappointed.
