Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was one forty-six in the morning and Damien Thorn sat in his room, at his desk, in front of his laptop dealing with the fifth and final communication of the night, this one from Paul. It had been sent from one of Thorn’s private email servers…so private, that not even his uncle knew about it; one on a long list of things that went on at Thorn Industries that Richard was better off not knowing about. His phone began pinging and he shut off the notifications as his more public Thorn Industries email was sending out automatic replies that his work had been received by the various department heads and would be reviewed in the morning.

He wasn’t an intern, but he was finished with school for the year and Paul had asked if wanted to take on more responsibilities before September when he and Mark would be leaving for Yale. Agreeing to work “pro bono” at Thorn meant that he was opening himself to treble the workload that any intern would ever be responsible for, given, of course, by all the department heads who saw any future role he had at Thorn as nepotism at its best. He smirked in the darkness. Let them say what they want now. They’ll be working for me soon enough.

He looked over at his bed and the sleeping figure huddled under the covers.

Ramona Taylor. A few weeks ago, there had been an end of the school year party thrown by the graduating class of Davenport Preparatory, his and Mark’s school of choice once they had left Davidson. He knew it would be nothing special, but he had gone fully aware that he would be the centre of attention and Mark had wanted to go to say his farewells. Ramona, along with quite a few girls, had come up to him and gave him their contact information along with the understanding that they were up for nearly anything. Last night he had taken her up on her offer and she had not disappointed.

He sat back in the chair and his stomach rumbled. Dinner had been hours ago, and fucking Ramona had taken some energy out of him. He hadn’t bothered getting dressed, so he simply cinched the belt of the dressing gown he had thrown on and went downstairs.

“Lights.”

The kitchen immediately brightened. He grabbed a plate and a glass from the various cupboards. In the fridge, he grabbed the milk container, and poured himself a glass and then grabbed the Dijon mustard, salami, Swiss, rye bread, and made himself a sandwich. He cocked his eyebrow at the cookie jar that had been filled earlier that day and took out three homemade chocolate chip cookies, added them to the plate, and took a seat at the nook.

He took a bite of his sandwich and while he ate, he thought about Ramona. The sex had been vanilla, no…interesting activities so far. He wasn’t sure where things where things were going with her, or whether he wanted things to keep going with her. It’s not as though he wanted her. She was there, as all the women were, to service him and his needs. There was only one person for whom he pined, and Ramona was most definitely not them.

He dunked his cookie into the milk, took a bite, and smiled. “Apparently, the second quickest way to the Antichrist’s heart is with fresh baked chocolate chip cookies.”

He took his time with his meal, and when he was done, he left his plate and glass in the sink. He decided to take the longer route back, past Mark’s bedroom. Maybe his cousin was still awake, though it was doubtful; all that Davidson Military Academy brainwashing bullshit meant lights out at midnight at the latest for him.

His room was located in the second wing of the house, much smaller than the third wing, and at one time had been the servants’ quarters. He had used his…special talents to get Richard to agree with his request to move to the other side of the house. He wanted his privacy and sometimes, it could get loud in his room, though usually not on his part, and he had no intention of having others keep it down to a dull roar to appease Richard Thorn of all people.

He came up the stairs and turned left; the door was closed, but as he approached it, he could hear grunting and groaning. He stopped. He had shared a room with his cousin long enough to know when he was gratifying himself. He leaned against the wall and listened. The sound Mark was making was not loud enough for any human to hear. Luckily for him, he was no human.

“Uh, Damien, fuck, yes, harder, yes, Oh God...”

He shook his head. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Mark had gone back to being relatively silent, apart from the grunting and groaning.

Damien could feel his prick twitch. Should he go in? He wanted to. Oh Satan, how he wanted to. He’d give his cousin exactly what he wanted, right in his tight little ass. He’d ride him into next week until his legs buckled.

But Mark was not Ramona, nor anyone else, for that matter. He didn’t want his first time with the man he loved to be like this...in the dead of night, the pair of them more tired than awake. He wanted him in broad daylight, making love with the sun streaming into the room so that he could see every inch of his cousin’s beautiful body.

The food coupled with the late hour had made him drowsy, and he had been looking forward to his head hitting his pillow. However, now that he was standing here listening to Mark want him, he had other things on his mind.

He was there for five minutes longer when apparently, he decided that he wanted to finish. The sounds got louder until finally…

“I love you, Damien, please don’t stop. I love you, forever and always.”

There was a grunt and then a sigh from within and then…he had gotten out of bed and put something on his desk...what could it be? A smile sat on his face. His laptop. He had been watching something while he had been jerking off and Damien needed to know what it was.

If he were anyone else but him, he would have had to wait until Mark fell asleep or waited until tomorrow when he was out of the house. Instead, he thought himself into the computer, unlocked it and transferred every single one of his cousin’s files to his own computer.

He put his hand on the door. He didn’t say anything, not even in a whisper, but he thought it…I love you, Mark, always and forever. He waited for a few more seconds and then made his way back to his room. 

He opened his bedroom door and with a nod, sent his dog back out into the hallway: apparently, the sexual activity for the night was not yet done. He quickly went to the bathroom to floss and brush. Once he was done, he picked up his laptop, took a seat on the leather armchair, sideways, so that his legs now dangled over the side. There, on his desktop, were all the files he had retrieved. He quickly dispensed with the innocuous stuff, which left four files that required passwords to open. Oh, Mark. He shook his head.

File one contained love poetry in which he was the subject. There weren’t many, but there were enough. He briefly went through them. They were mostly awful, and if they had been written by anyone else, he would have laughed at and mocked whoever had written them. But in this case, he more than appreciated the sentiment.

The second file had pictures; once again, he was the subject. The third file...pictures of blond men in various types of bondage...tied up, handcuffs, being whipped, spanked and in some of them, there was a man with dark brown hair being the Dominant to the submissive man. The last file was a video. Bingo. He pressed play…

It was some kind of military scenario because there was a blond cadet folding his laundry in his room. Another cadet came in with a boy and the three of them were talking. The one boy left, and the brunet cadet shut and locked the door behind him, and the next thing he knew, the two young men were in each other’s arms.

They began by kissing...long, deep, passionate, their tongues in each other’s mouth. Brunet moved his mouth and kissed down Blond’s neck, nibbling his earlobe.

Brunet began unbuttoning Blond’s shirt and the scene faded so that the two cadets were now in their briefs making out in the bed, facing each other. Their legs were arranged so that their thighs were against the other’s cock, both of them were rotating and thrusting against the other’s thigh; each had their hands down the other’s briefs, and he could see by the looks on their faces, they were groaning.

Whatever erection Damien had been working on was now at full mast and he spit into his hand and began stroking himself. Not at the scene itself, but at the thought that this had been what Mark had been watching while he had been jerking off.

Brunet got off his partner and knelt on the bed, grabbed Blond’s legs, and put them against his chest. He reached down and pulled Blond’s briefs up his thighs, to his knees, to his calves and then the boy’s briefs were tossed to the floor. Brunet placed the Blond’s feet on the bed and then got on top of him again. They were speaking to each other, but because the sound wasn’t on, he couldn’t hear.

Brunet began kissing his way down Blond’s chest. Sucking his nipples...kissing, caressing, playfully teasing his way down until he was between Blond’s legs and once he got there, Brunet kissed Blond’s cock a few times and then nearly eight inches of Blond was in his mouth.

Blond’s back arched up and the scene continued with Brunet continuing to pleasure his partner...stroking, kissing, touching, caressing...loving Blond’s cock. He then put it back in his mouth with the clear intention of making his partner orgasm.

Up and down went Brunet’s head until Blond’s back arched up again and Brunet lifted up his head, Blond’s seed dribbling down his chin, a smile on his face. Brunet was now sitting, as was Blond, who leaned over and kissed his partner, getting some of his own semen in his mouth. Blond was now on all fours on the bed and Brunet, who was standing at the side of the bed, naked, put on a condom, grabbed bottle of lubricant, lubed up his cock and his partner’s ass and entered him, kissing his back, and caressing his thighs. He began thrusting and then reached around and began stroking his partner…

Damien stopped it and shut off the computer. He wanted Mark. Now. He let out a growl. But he would not give in. He did, however, need some relief and looked over at Ramona, who had slept through everything.

He removed his robe and went to the bed. She was on her side, but he rolled her over so that she was now on her stomach. He grabbed the bottle of lube that was sitting on his bedside table; this wasn't going to be the first time tonight that Ramona would be taking it up the ass. He straddled her and poured some lube into his hand and made sure he was lubricated, as was she. He didn’t particularly care for her pleasure or comfort, but he liked the feeling...besides, he’d be using it with Mark.

He guided himself into her and it was only because he was utilizing all the self-control he possessed that he did not to come right away. He began thrusting and he groaned, but quickly stifled himself. Normally, he made very little noise during sex. Some heavy breathing and a grunt when he came, but now...he wanted to throw his head back and cry out. Nothing to do with the girl, but he wanted inside Mark so badly he could taste it…to hear him screaming his name…to hear him say how much he wanted to be fucked...how much he loved him…that he was in love with him. He bit his lip to stop himself from making noise...he didn’t want Ramona to wake up and think she was doing that to him.

It was like his Father was giving him everything that he wanted; he grinned in the darkness. Maybe this was his reward for doing what he supposed to do, for being a good son and being obedient.

Damien could see his alarm clock; it was now three thirty in the morning and he was tired. He picked up the pace and closed his eyes…

Mark was on his back, his thighs resting on his chest, his legs over his shoulders and he was making love to Mark...Mark his cousin/brother/lover/soulmate. Mark was moaning, saying his name, reaching up and caressing his chest, pulling him down to kiss him, urging Damien with words, both loving and dirty.

Pretty Mark...beautiful Mark...Mark with the perfect blond hair that he wanted to grasp as he came inside of him. Thrusting, rocking, two bodies in perfect motion with each other.  

“Mark,” he couldn’t help it, his cousin’s name was on his lips, like a prayer to his Father.

“Come in me, beloved brother, flesh not of my flesh, but of my heart and soul. Come in me and give yourself to me. I love you, forever and always.”

Damien Thorn obeyed, and his orgasm blossomed, a beautiful thing that no longer wanted to be contained and demanded to be free…

I love you, Mark, always and forever.

When he opened his eyes, his hands were in Ramona’s hair and his face was buried in the back of her neck.

“Damien,” she muttered.

He pulled out of her. “Go to sleep.”

He rolled over onto his side, facing away from the girl in his bed. Never once had Mark displayed any interest in him. Never. All the times he had fantasized that he’d wake up in the morning with his cousin’s mouth wrapped around his cock...he shook his head. He had never felt anything from him apart from the normal familial sentiments. Then again, he had never, ever mentally pressed Mark. He never wanted to accidentally hurt him, or to have anything from his cousin to be forced or done under any kind of duress.

But things happened for a reason, and maybe waiting this long was good. At eighteen, he knew he could be a lover, and it wouldn’t just be about the sex.

He was horrible at honest seduction. People threw themselves at him and he decided whether he would have them. But Mark wasn’t people; Mark was family. Maybe not by blood, but by love.

He closed his eyes and hiked the covers to his chin. The whys and wherefores would be worked out later, but for right now, he glowed in the knowledge that Mark wanted him, and with a smile on his face, he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

His eyes snapped open. He looked over at the alarm clock; it was six forty-four. He sat up, stretched, and it came back to him…standing in the hallway listening to Mark. He had no idea how he was going to proceed with that, but at least it was the summer and he’d have some time to figure it out.

A sigh from beside him brought him back to the here and now and at least gave him something to focus on.

“Home time, Ramona.”

“Mmm,” she mumbled as she rolled over, taking the covers with her.

“No. No more sleeping. It’s time to get dressed and go.” He got out of bed, putting on a pair of dark grey jogging pants and a grey and white Thorn Industries t-shirt.

“I’m tired,” she whined.

“I don’t care. You have to go.” He pulled the blankets off her.

“Hey!” She sat up.

“Ramona.” He made sure the tone in his voice let her know that he wasn’t fucking around.

She stood. “Jesus, take a pill. I’m up.”

He was at her side, his left hand in her hair and he yanked back. “First and foremost, watch your fucking mouth. Next, do not tell me to take a pill and do not tell me what the fuck to do in my own fucking house. If I want you out, you will go, and you will thank me as you are walking out the door. If you ever want to see me again and for things to be...pleasant between us, you will do as you are told. Are we in agreement in this?”

“Yes, Damien. I’m sorry.”

“Good.”

He let go of her and watched as she picked up her clothes and got dressed. They made their way downstairs to the servant’s entrance; she put on her shoes.

“Will I see you later?”

“I don’t know…not today.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, but it’s been a slice, Ramona.”

She frowned. “A slice of what?”

He felt like picking up the first heavy object he could find and smashing in her skull. “It just means it was for fun. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Bye.” She blew him a kiss and she took off to her car.

He shook his head as he made his way to the kitchen; his fault, really, for fucking a seventeen-year-old. It was nearly seven and the house had been bustling since five-thirty getting breakfast ready for the family. He walked into the kitchen, a huge smile on his face.

“Morning, ladies.”

He was met with a chorus of good morning, Mr. Thorn. A few of the younger girls gave him winks and attempted, unsuccessfully, to keep the leering down to a minimum.

He went on through to the dining room. No one was there yet.

“What can I get you this morning, Damien?”

“Good morning, Agatha. Some of everything...twice; I am starving. I’ll start with some coffee.”

She nodded and left and seconds later, a familiar and shapely figure picked up the coffee pot and poured some of the hot, brown liquid into his cup. She wasn't a maid, nor the help in the strictest sense of the word.

“Good morning, Mr. Thorn.”

“How are you this morning, Nadja?”

She pouted. “Horrible. Rebecca and I couldn’t sleep at all last night. And after we couldn’t sleep, we had a discussion about when a certain Thorn would come and lecture us on proper behaviour.”

There was a pause as Agatha came in with a bowl of fruit salad. She disappeared back into the kitchen, and he fixed his coffee the way that he liked it, two creams, two sugars. “What sort of improper things have you been doing with Rebecca?”

“She didn’t wear panties to work yesterday and when she bent over, I could see her cunt and one thing lead to another…I couldn’t help myself, Mr. Thorn.” She bit her lower lip.

He took a drink. “It would appear that you and Rebecca could definitely use a refresher on how to conduct yourselves in my home. Be ready, Nadja, because the lesson could come at anytime.”

“I’ll pass it along, Mr. Thorn.”

He sat back as dishes full of food came to the table. Agatha returned with his plate piled high, and he tucked in, throwing a piece of bacon to his dog who had settled under the table near his Master’s feet.

I love you, forever and always/I love you, always and forever…how long had it been since they had said that to each other? He continued eating...

He had arrived with Richard, who had flown to D.C. to pick him up, at the Thorn Industries private airport. Both Ann and Mark had been there…he could still see Mark bouncing on the balls of his feet, barely able to contain his excitement.

“Damien, this is your cousin, Mark; Mark this is…

“Damien! I’m so happy you’re here!”

He even now could feel his little body stiffen up after Mark had thrown his arms around him like this was a big reunion and they were the best of friends who hadn’t seen each other in years…

Richard had then driven them into the city, all the while, Mark had talked non-stop…school and whether they’d be in the same class…what Richard did…trips they would take…sports and recreational activities that he liked to do…favourite toys…

“He had a long trip here and we wouldn’t want him to be extra tired from having to keep up with Motormouth Mark.”

Richard had given his son a smile in the rear-view mirror.

“Sorry, Damien…”

He must have given his cousin an awkward smile in return…

In the city, Richard had taken them to The Toy Attic, even now, the most expensive toy store in all of Chicago, and told him he could pick whatever he wanted. Out of panic, he had hurriedly cast his eyes around the place and eventually pointed to a good-sized, stuffed grey elephant.

“Do you want anything else?”

He remembered shaking his head in the negative; Richard had paid for it, and they had left…

At home, thankfully, they had forgone a tour of the house and grounds, they ate lunch, and was shown to his room, and Mark had given him a tour of his room. The had swam in the pool…had taken a curtailed view of the woods…and then there was dinner and finally he and Mark had been taken upstairs to get ready for bed. He could even now remember himself in the bed, Richard, Anne, and Mark, all telling him how happy they were that he was here.

He still, thirteen hours later, had not uttered a single word to any of them.

He had lain there in the dark. He had never been afraid of the dark; he hadn’t been then, but…he had never had the opportunity to fall asleep after spending the day with someone his own age and suddenly, the dark had seemed much bigger than it actually was and without thinking, he had thrown off the covers and had made his way to Mark.

“Don’t you like your room?”

Ann had asked, but he had said nothing in return and had stood in the doorway clutching onto the elephant.

“Wanna sleep with me, Damien?”

What his mouth had lacked in speed, his legs had made up for as his five-year-old self dashed across the room and jumped into bed next to his cousin.

“If you want, you can sleep with Mark. We’ll put another bed in here and if you feel like it, you can sleep here, or in your room.”

“Goodnight, Damien.”

Ann had kissed his forehead.

“Goodnight.”

He had been nearly inaudible and even now, he remembered Ann crying.

Mark had started giggling. “You talk funny. You have to teach me to talk like that.”

Richard had shut off the lights, closed the door and he and Ann left, but quick as lightning, Mark turned on the lamp on the nightstand.

He had sat up. “Don’t you like me?”

He had given his cousin a vigorous nod of his head.

“Then how come you don’t talk to me?”

He had shrugged.

“I hope you’re just shy, ‘cuz I like you. We can be like brothers, Damien. You’ll see, we’ll have lots and lots of fun. And maybe it’s okay you don’t talk...I say enough for both of us.”

He had giggled and Mark laughed and then he had shut the lamp off and they had fallen asleep…

They had spent many nights together, with him preferring to sleep with his cousin, and while it took a long time for him to open up to others, it took no time for him and Mark to gab away like they had known each other their whole lives. At night, when they were in bed, they’d talk about their day and how much fun it had been and how much more fun they’d have the next day.

In the darkness, they’d put their heads together, barely being able to keep their eyes open.

“I love you, Damien, forever and always.”

“I love you, Mark, always and forever.”

And they’d eventually fall asleep…

Damien looked down; someone had refilled his plate. He couldn’t deny his cousin’s moans and protestations, but he had to be certain that Mark wanted him in the flesh.

“What are you doing up so early?”

He looked up at his uncle...thinking of fucking your son into next week. “No reason. How about yourself?”

“Starving.”

Damien smirked behind the cup of coffee that he put up to his mouth. I bet. Sometimes he and Ann were loud enough to be heard.

“I received the email report; I didn’t mean for you to have everything done by today.”

“What can I say, I’m a go getter.”

“I hear good things about you from Paul…and others.”

“What others?” He was genuinely curious as to who else at Thorn was keeping an eye on him.

“Think I’m going to give away my hand? How else am I going to be the one who knows everything that happens.”

It was a good thing that Damien hadn’t been eating or drinking at that point because he would have choked. Are you sure about that? Sure you know what Paul and Ann get up to there? Or here, for that matter? 

“And there she is. Good morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning, my love.”

Damien watched as she kissed Richard’s cheek. She loved her husband, though that didn’t stop her from being intimate with Paul; and she genuinely loved her son…though that didn’t stop her from being a disciple of his.

“Where’s Mark?”

“Sleeping Beauty must still be sleeping. I’ll go and check on him.”

“Richard, did you tell him?”

“Tell him what? Oh, yes and no. Ann and I are going away to Spain for a few weeks.”

Damien sat there, and while he was unmoved on the outside, inside he was having to prevent himself from reaching over and kissing Richard full on his mouth; the timing could not have been more perfect for himself and Mark to have the whole place to themselves.

“When are you leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow. Though Ann and I were thinking of having a small dinner party tomorrow night…just us and a few more people.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Richard began going on about wherever they were going, but the words were going in one ear and out of the other. He’d be alone in the house with Mark…oh, Satan, the possibilities…

“I’ll go see what’s taking him so long.”

He excused himself from the table and went to see to Agatha putting together a breakfast plate for his cousin…

…666…  

Mark was in the shower, his head on his left forearm, which was against the shower wall, his right hand was between his legs, and he was now working off the erection that he had. He hadn’t been hard when he had gotten in there, but he had thought about Damien walking in on him last night while he had been jerking off, and, well, here he was again.

Damien. Why did his cousin have to be…well…Damien? Dark brown hair that reminded him of rich silk that he wanted to bury his face into. Eyes like the Caribbean, so deep and blue he wanted to drown there forever. Smoldering good looks, and most importantly enough smarts and confidence that he could give most of it away and still have more than enough leftover. It was no wonder that nearly every girl, and quite a few guys as well, wanted him. He smiled. He may not be popular or be anywhere near as good looking as his cousin was, but fuck it, he lived with him; let others be jealous of him for that.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the hot water against his back as he continued to stroke himself.

He knew he wasn’t gay; he liked girls, but he had no more clue about how to pursue them than he did his cousin. He had danced with girls, or gone on group dates, but never had asked anyone to go steady, or to go out somewhere one-on-one; he was too afraid that she’d tell him to fuck off. He disliked rejection, but there wasn’t just rejection to worry about with Damien. If he came clean to his cousin, there were a whole lot worse things that could happen besides Damien telling him to fuck off.

He was starving, so he picked up the pace and with a smirk, imagined what he would have liked to happen if his cousin had walked in on him last night. He was quiet, just in case anyone was out there.

He stepped out of the shower and wrapped one towel around his waist the other he used to dry his hair. He grabbed the towel off the rack and used it to clear the steam off his mirror.

There was something about Damien and he wasn’t the only one who saw it. One evening, they had been dining at the country club, along with Richard and Ann, and he and Damien were talking about some stupid shit, when he realized that his cousin was no longer answering him and then realized that he had locked eyes with someone across the room. He had followed Damien’s gaze and saw a stunning looking brunette woman sitting at the bar staring in their direction.

At first, he had thought that the woman was staring at Richard; but she smiled, and Damien had smiled back, and the woman got up and made her way to the restrooms. He had excused himself by saying that he needed to use the facilities.

He had been gobsmacked. The woman had to be in her thirties, and he watched as the two of them chatted outside the washrooms and she had handed something to him, more likely than not, contact information that he then put in the inside breast pocket of his jacket. She had touched his shoulder, leaned in, and whispered something, and then disappeared into the ladies’ room as Damien had made his way back to their table.

He had been fifteen years old at the time.

Mark closed his eyes. Cutesy girls liked him…girl’s little sisters liked him. “You’re cute, Mark,” they’d giggle and then scurry back to their cartoons and coloring books.

Meanwhile, Damien was in the kitchen fucking their mom…okay, maybe not, but the point was, Damien had a charisma and charm about him that attracted women; Mark had to fight off “advances” from six-year-olds. He threw the hair towel in the hamper and opened the door and nearly had a heart attack.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” He adjusted his towel to make sure it was secure around his waist…though part of him wanted to adjust it right onto this bedroom floor.

“Sorry. I brought you breakfast.”

Damien had pointed to the tray on his desk.

“Thanks!” He made his way there, sat and began eating. He watched Damien lay down on the bed, his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He smiled and continued eating; Damien was lying where he had been last night.

“Ann and Richard are going away.”

He turned around. “What do you mean?”

“They’re going away on vacation, leaving us poor slobs behind. There is going to be a dinner tomorrow night…just a few people.”

Damien was up on his left elbow looking at him as the sun was coming in through the open curtains, and a stream of light fell on the bed, landing across his cousin. He looked like a god, too precious for any mere mortal such as himself to ever hope to have.

“Fuck off.” He closed his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Damien sat up and Mark would have liked nothing more than to go over there, straddle Damien and kiss him. “I’m not telling you to fuck off...it’s nothing you’d understand.” He turned around and continued eating.

“Try me.”

Damien grabbed a chair and sat beside him...he even smelled unbelievable. “How is it that you get everything you want?”

He laughed. “I most certainly do not get everything I want. But I do get most of it.”

“How?”

“By knowing that I can get it; by knowing how to ask for it, or taking it; and most importantly, by knowing that I deserve to get it.”

“I see. It’s that simple for you, huh?”

“Yes, it is.”

Mark knew that his cousin wasn’t being facetious. “What do you do if you’re horrible at all of those things?”

“Practice, practice, practice. Is there something you desire, Mark?”

YOU

“I don’t know...maybe. Would you say that women, and maybe even men, like confidence?”

“Fuck yes. Confidence is sexy. Knowing what you want and not being afraid to ask for it…I have very little patience for people who pussyfoot around their own wants and needs. Paul Buher gets shit done because he knows he can get shit done...that’s sexy. The head of legal, Donna Brady, gets shit done, and she makes sure that it gets done”

Mark had finished eating and smirked at his cousin. “Let me guess, it’s sexy? You have patience with me.”

“Damn straight it is and what do you mean I have patience with you? You make yourself sound like you’re special needs or something.”

“No, but I don’t have a lot of confidence.”

“You must have had some confidence to get your girlfriends.”

“Girlfriends? Did you just move here? What girlfriends?”

“I don’t know...friends with benefits, then?”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend, or friends with benefits.” Mark could feel himself get flush.

“But...that’s not possible...how is that possible? I know lots of girls who are interested in you and you’re...attractive. You’ve gotten laid.”

But he could only turn back around and finish his orange juice. He could practically feel the silence from beside him…how could Damien Thorn ever want the likes of me?

“If you’re done eating, I’ll take your dishes down. Put on your trunks, I’ll put on mine and we’ll go swimming. A virgin. I never would have guessed.”

He handed Damien his dishes. “Don’t tell anyone about...you know.” But he was just standing there, staring at him. “What?” And after what seemed like ages, he answered.

“I think I finally understand...when the cats are away, Mark.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means what it means. I’ll meet you at the pool.”

Damien left with the tray full of his empty dishes and closed the door behind him. Mark breathed a sigh of relief when his cousin left the room. Where had all that come from? He swore he’d never mention any of that to his cousin. He had hoped to have sex before he and Damien went off the Yale, or that he’d get laid at some frosh mixer and then none of it would have mattered.

A swim sounded great, but there was a part of him that just wanted to jump back into bed and pull the covers over his head and not have to look at Damien after their conversation. But he wanted to spend time with his cousin, so he opened his drawer and took out a pair of blue swimming trunks, but he thought about what Damien had said about confidence. He put back the blue trunks and grabbed a red Speedo, dropped the towel, and put them on. He took a look at himself in the mirror.

“Yes, I’m confident; confident that I look like a complete, fucking idiot.”

He had them on, so he might as well keep them on, and he left to go to the pool.

He hoped that he could trust Damien with what he had told him. Sometimes, his cousin could be a prick, or think that blurting out things and being “honest” was the best way to handle a situation. However, Damien seemed to sense that this whole situation really bothered him, and he knew that when it came to important matters, he could implicitly trust his cousin.

A thought occurred to him, and he grinned and felt rather proud of himself: he’d suggest that while Ann and Richard were away, they could have a party.

They both worked with Paul; Mark did research, while Damien basically did everything else. Sometimes Damien would hand Paul Buher, Vice-President of Thorn Industries, a finished presentation, which would then be given in front of whatever department head needed the convincing and was basically given the go ahead with whatever project had been put forward.

At first, Mark didn’t think that he’d like it. He had already told his father that he had less than zero intentions of running Thorn, and that if he wanted to hand over the business to someone in the family, then that person was going to have to be Damien.

However, he had discovered that he had a knack for finding information. He smirked. Sometimes he could do a better job of it than Damien. There was a woman, Amanda, an intern only two years older than himself, that he liked. They had spoken. She was personable and down-to-earth, which is more than could be said for many of the people who somehow confused working for a Thorn with being one.

It was not an alone date, but he knew her, and he could use all the practice he could get talking the women, and he knew he wouldn’t have to do much arm twisting to get Damien to throw a party where he would basically be the center of attention.

Outside, he grabbed towels from the cabana and lay on his back on one of the loungers. Maybe with his parents gone, he’d work up the nerve to do something to Damien, but he doubted it. He smiled…there were so many interesting things that they could do in the pool. He shook his head…get a grip, Mark. The Speedo left little to the imagination and the last thing he wanted was to have to explain his hard-on, so he got control of himself and waited for his cousin to turn up…

...666…

Damien had brought Mark’s dishes downstairs and before he went to change into his swimsuit, he made his way to a room in the house. Nobody but Damien utilized the room because he had used his very special talents to make sure that everyone, including Ann, Richard, and Mark forgot the room was there.

It was located past his and Mark’s old rooms, which were across from the Master bedroom. Anyone who had been watching, would have seen a wall…until Damien began walking up the four stairs that led to an alcove with a door on the right.

He knew who and what he was; he needed no key to enter, though sometimes, he used the key to remind himself of exactly where he was going and why he was going there.

Inside, he closed the door, and he could immediately feel his Father and every tension and care that he had fell away and disappeared right through the ebony floors into nothingness. The Chapel, as he had always called it, was painted black from floor to ceiling and the matte floor caught as much of the brightness from the skylight as it was capable of. It had also been sanctified, which had required the blood and death of a human.

He would have stayed up here for hours, which he had done on many occasions, but for right now, he just sat with his back against the wall that was farthest away from the door and let the peace and tranquility of the room clear his mind. He would find a way through everything that had to do with Mark. He was used to getting his own way, pushing until he got what he wanted; but things with his cousin needed to be handled differently and he would have patience and take his time because he wanted Mark to give himself not from coercion, but because Mark was in love with him…the same way that he was in love with Mark.

“Thank you, Father, for my life and for making Yourself known to me. All is done for You, to bring about Your kingdom on Earth. I am nothing without You; I am merely the vessel through which You speak. I love you.” He smiled. “Thank you especially for giving me Mark. I hope I can bring him around to Our way of thinking.” And with that, Damien bowed his head, and after a minute, left the Chapel to go change.

Mark was a virgin...nope, he never expected that. He had never thought his cousin had dozens of girlfriends or had fucked his way through the state of Illinois. That wasn’t Mark’s style. But a virgin? Damien shook his head...he didn’t understand…or hadn’t understood just now.

Before the conversation he had just had, there were theories as to why Mark had not come to him with his “dilemma.” One was that they were male, and as stupid as that was to Damien, maybe that was a reason for Mark to not make a move. Not to mention that as far as Mark knew, they were related, a big taboo for most people. Mark was also more reserved and therefore might have had trouble expressing his romantic feelings, though he was more sensitive than Damien was. Then, the discovery of the BDSM pictures on Mark’s computer…perhaps he was trying to be submissive and hoped that Damien would be the dominant one and make the first move.

However, while some of those things might be factors, Damien now understood that Mark hadn’t said anything to him because as far as Mark Thorn was concerned, he was a homely, unconfident mess who was way, way out of Damien’s league. That had been the real shocker; that Mark didn’t see himself for the extremely handsome man that he was.

Lots of girls had come up to him to ask about him, and Damien had assumed that his cousin had made use of some of them; but now, he understood, that either on purpose or unconsciously, Mark had shut them down because he didn’t think that he couldn’t get anywhere with them.

He got undressed and as he stood there naked, a plan for Mark unfolded in his mind, like a sublime riddle that had been solved by Divine Intervention.

Damien smiled from ear to ear. “Thank you, Father.”

He went to his dresser drawer and pulled out a navy-blue Speedo; it would give Mark something to think about later. He put it on, admired himself in the mirror, smiled and left to join his cousin.

Chapter Text

Damien, dressed for the evening’s gathering, stood in front of the mirror in his walk-in closet, and adjusted the cuffs of his Egyptian cotton shirt. Like the suit, it was from Brooks Brothers, tailored, and fit him perfectly.

He had decided on grey as the colour for the evening and once he was finally satisfied with the length of cuff that was showing, he went to the drawer where he kept his jewelery, chose his favourite Blancpain timepiece and put it on.

He turned to look at himself in the mirror again and gave himself a sharklike grin. “I’d fuck me, but luckily I don’t have to.”

He made his way to the bedroom and to his desk where he grabbed two small notebooks, which he slipped into his right jacket pocket, and a retractable pen that he put in his inside breast pocket. He left his room, closed the door behind him, and made his way across the house to where Mark’s bedroom was, and once inside, closed the door behind him.

He had chosen what he was wearing because he knew that it would make him look stunning and would therefore stand out, and if Damien Thorn excelled at nothing else, which was in fact not the case, it was that when the occasion warranted it, he could outshine the sun.

However, as he stood there, and removed one of the notebooks and the pen, and began taking notes, part of tonight would be spent on an equally handy talent, which was disappearing into the woodwork so that even if he were standing directly behind someone and breathing down their neck, that person would have no idea he was there.

He went to Mark’s closet, looked inside, moved things on hangers, and took more notes. In the bedroom, Damien opened drawers and rummaged around and after frowning more than a few times, wrote more.

When he was done, he stood in the middle of the room, gave the place a final look, and with a self-satisfied smirk, left the room to go downstairs…

He found Paul in the living room, finishing off a canapé and enjoying a glass of champagne. Damien was used to crowds and attention, and liked it, but since he had created the Chapel, he was starting to see the benefits of having serious alone time, devoid of even the small group that now gathered in his home.

“Damien.”

He took the offered hand and shook it. “Paul.”

“How goes it?”

“Pretty well.” He also was now in possession of a canapé and a glass of champagne. “No complaints.” He waited until the server had moved away. “I saw the news report of the assassination. Such a shame.”

Paul let a smile very briefly lick the corners of his mouth. “Nothing like the coup that you got to witness firsthand, but it got the job done. I wouldn’t expect any serious changes for a year or so. It takes time, even with more than one of our people in charge.”

“I understand. It’s all good.”

“Have you worked out with Mark putting in the extra time at the office?”

“Haven’t yet, but with Ann and Richard leaving…”

“Just let me know.”

“I will. See you at dinner.” He gave Paul a slap on the back and watched as the older man left and made his way over to Richard and Ann.

The target of Damien’s observation for the evening entered the room and very shortly, Damien would simply think himself small, and would shove his very bright light under a very dark barrel. He also noticed a particular server and smiled as he waved her over; there was other business that needed attending to tonight.

“Good evening, Rebecca.”

“Good evening to you, Mr. Thorn.”

“How are you?”

“I’m excellent. And yourself?”

“Very well, but there is always room for improvement. Your sister told me that the pair of you had problems sleeping the other night.”

“Yes. We had a long…conversation about when a certain someone would give us a refresher on how to be morally upstanding citizens in his home.”

“The Antichrist has a morally upstanding home?” He took a sip of his champagne.

“Of course, one’s definition of moral and upstanding may vary from one individual to another.”

“She also told me told me you were working sans panties the other day.”

“And right now, also."

She was wearing tight black pants with a matching jacket and a white shirt, and a black bow tie. On her five-foot seven-inch frame, with her brown hair that hung down her back in a single plait, it looked spectacular. He reached out and discreetly ran his hand over her ass; he couldn’t feel so much as the string from a thong.

“I’d like to see you both in my room tonight. I’ll text you. And hands off each other and yourselves until then.”

“I’ll pass it along.”

She had given him a curt, business-like nod of her head, and she left to continue to circulate among the guests…

…666…  

The party had come to an end at eleven thirty, and Ann and Richard and retired to their room not long after that. It was now ten minutes after midnight, and Damien sat in the kitchen eating at the nook. He didn’t take the notebooks out now, that would be for later, but it had been foresight on his part apparently to have grabbed two of them because one had not been enough. He now smiled because he heard Mark’s voice, inquiring as to where he was. The kitchen door swung open, and a head came out from around it.

“There you are.”

“Where else would I be?” Damien put the piece of roast beef that was on his fork in his mouth.

Rather than sit in the banquette beside him, Mark pulled up a chair and sat across the table.

“I’m confused. Did you spend most of the night in here?”

“No. I was at the dinner party. All night long in fact.” The beef was now followed by a piece of perfectly garlic-roasted potato.

“Huh. Really?”

“Yes, really. I was watching you. You didn’t see me? My feelings are hurt.”

“You have feelings?”

“What a snarky bitch you are. But that’s okay. I still love you.”

“That looks like a good idea.”

Mark left to grab a plate, and returned, adding potatoes and roast beef, as he had done. He also watched as the help began cleaning up, which included gathering up the leftovers to throw out.

“Could you put the roast beef in a container of some kind?”

He got a nod, and the plate was taken away, and soon what had been on it was in a glass dish, covered and was now safe in the fridge.

“If Ann and Richard weren’t leaving tomorrow, I’d put my name on it. And that means hands off to you.” He leveled an accusatory index finger at his cousin.

“My, aren’t we possessive of the things we want.”

“Oh, you fucking bet I am.” His cousin was back with his nose in his phone. “Whatcha doin?”

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” He took a drink of the pinot noir that he had poured for himself; it was excellent.

“Stuff, stuff.”

“Slow down. You’re confusing me with all your technical jargon.”

“I need milk.”

Damien stopped him. “Allow me. Wouldn’t want you to be distracted from all your stuff.” He poured a glass of milk and returned to the table and sat. He put the glass down but didn’t let go of the glass.

“Thanks.”

Mark was still engrossed in whatever had his attention and reached out to take a drink…

“Can you let go, please?”

“Sorry.” Damien removed his hand. “So, do I ever get to find out what it is you’re doing?”

“Tomorrow.”

“But.” He pouted. “What if I want to find out now? We all know how impatient I am.”

“Too bad, so sad. Keep bothering me and you’ll find out when it’s too late.”

Mark took a drink of his milk and wasn’t paying attention. If had, he would have heard the low, throaty growl that had escaped his lips and had seen the look in his eyes that would have stripped his cousin naked were it possible. Damien felt his prick twitch.

He was enjoying watching Mark. Sometimes, he would watch Mark at work, where he would be equally engaged by whatever task Paul had assigned him. He wouldn’t mind sitting and watching until his cousin called it quits, but Nadja and Rebecca would be expecting a summons in the not-too-distant future, and he still had Ramona taste in his mouth; he needed some decent fucking to cleanse his palate as it were.

“Well, I’m going to call it a day.” He brought his plate and things to the sink. He then stood by the kitchen door that led out to the dining room.

“Carl was hanging out with me at dinner. Mind if he sleeps with me tonight?”

“Why would I mind?” Though Damien couldn’t help but be envious of his four-legged companion, snuggling in with Mark for the night. But it did help alleviate the guilt of making his dog sleep in the hall when sexcapades were in full swing.

“Are you getting up to see Ann and Richard off?

“Of course.” He was sincere in that. Not because he wanted to bid them a fond farewell; instead, he wanted to make sure they were indeed fucking off to wherever they were fucking off to.

“See you in the morning.”

“Be there or be square. And Mark.” Damien had caught his attention before his cousin resumed whatever he was doing. “We had a conversation the other day about how…confidence and assertiveness was attractive. What you’re doing right now? You might want to think about keeping it up. It’s going to get you more of what you want out of life.”

He left the kitchen before Mark could respond. He didn’t pass anyone on the way to his room, and once inside, he went to the bathroom and flossed and brushed his teeth when a thought stopped him cold.

I can read and feel emotions. I should have known a long time ago that Mark had a thing for me.

He came out into the bedroom and stared at the door and thought about what he had heard the other night.

What if Mark jerking off thinking about me was a fluke?

But that was a lot of poems and pictures for someone to possess who wasn’t fairly smitten by the subject of those poems and pictures. Not to mention one very huge coincidence to own a video wherein the subjects bore a unfuckingcanny resemblance to himself and to Mark.

Then how come he can hide himself from me?  

Even now, downstairs, clearly his cousin was excited, but it was noticeable to him because he had known Mark long enough to know when he was taken with something. He should have been able to feel a rise in excitement, like he had with Richard when he had spoken of his trip to Spain.

He frowned. Damien couldn’t remember the last time he had felt something from Mark, and he let out a gasp.

“Fuck.”

It had been a whisper, but its impact felt like he had been blindsided by a train. This just wasn’t about sex, or about making Mark realize he was more than what he was; this was about love…about being so in love with Mark that he, the Antichrist, had ceased to think of his cousin as being a separate entity apart from himself.

Anxiety was something, among many things, that did not sit well with him; it made him want to strip naked and take a shower to get rid of the feeling that now enveloped him.

What if I can’t get him? What if Mark rejects me? What if…  

He shook his head. This was not where he had seen the night headed, and Damien Thorn was the conductor of his train, not a mindless bloody passenger. He had asked the women to be on standby and that’s what was going to happen…he was going to fuck the pair of them into a very late night and expect them to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for Ann and Richard’s send off.

Most importantly, to doubt his abilities was to doubt his Father and that was sacrilege as far as Damien was concerned. Things with Mark would be worked out. He was Alexander the Great, Conqueror of Worlds, but sometimes it took the patience of sitting and working through a problem instead of using the most direct and blunt approach possible. He drew a steadying breath and on its exhale was once again the calm entity who had been admiring himself in the mirror moments ago.

“Good things come to Antichrists who wait.”

With a smile, he retrieved his phone from the desk and sent Rebecca a text; she would bring Nadja with her. He remained dressed in what he had been wearing at the dinner party and was leaning against the desk and he didn’t have to wait very long until there was a knock at the door.

Chapter Text

“Come.”

The door opened and both women stood in the hall. Rebecca entered his room first and waited until her sister followed her inside and then closed the door behind them.

“You survived the dinner party.”

Rebecca, like he, hadn’t changed out of what she had been wearing earlier. “It takes more than a social gathering to fell me. I hope you were treated well?”

“Impeccably as always. People know better than to be disrespectful to the help in your home.”

“We missed you at dinner, Nadja.”

“I missed being there.”

He took her hand and pulled her toward him, spinning her once so that her back was against his front. He gave her earlobe a tug with his teeth.

“May I?” Rebecca stepped forward and he held out one hand and then the other as she removed his watch and cufflinks and then left to put them away in the walk-in closet.

“How did your houseguest sleep the other night?” Nadja smirked.

“After I fucked her into exhaustion? She slept very well.”

“She was a little young for you.” She turned her head around to look at him.

“You were seventeen once, too.”

She snorted with laughter. “I was never seventeen even when I was seventeen.”

“I was seventeen once, not that long ago.”

“You were never seventeen.” She returned from replacing his jewellery. “Ever.”

It would have been impossible on sight alone to peg them as siblings. Rebecca Petersen. Tall, athletic build, long, medium-brown hair with blonde in it. She was a freelance translator and worked with Richard at Thorn, but it was only parttime. He had informed her that they needed help at the house, and she was guaranteed to be hired. She had agreed, so long as the arrangement included her sister. That had been four years ago.

Nadja. Medium height and curvier than Rebecca. Her hair, like his, was mahogany brown nearly black. It was cut at her chin and made her look much younger than her twenty-one years.

They, of course, hadn’t needed the job. While not as wealthy as the Thorns, they did far more than alright for themselves, financially speaking. It had been a ruse in order to get the both of them into the Thorns’ home in order to see to their God incarnate.

Damien reached around and undid the tie on Nadja’s Paisley, silk robe, letting it slip to the floor. Underneath she had on a pair of matching lace, navy blue bra and panties. His right arm was around her waist.

“I do believe there is some behaviour I have to correct...”

“I think you mean reward.” Nadja arched her back, not so subtly pressing her ass against Damien’s cock.

“My bad, and yes, how very true that moral behaviour and upstandingness is so dependent on the individual in question.” He lowered his right hand and it now rested just above her panties, his fingertips teasing along the top of them.

“So many would have asked Nadja and I to leave when they found us in the wine cellar. That kindness has never been lost on us.”

“Richard certainly would have, but I’m not my uncle. Kick a pair of gorgeous women to the curb who were simply were expressing their…Satan-given right of exploring their sexual desires? Perish the thought. Not to mention, gorgeous sisters who have devoted their lives to me. That would have been an act of gross negligence on my part.” He slipped his hand inside her panties. Unlike her sister, she kept herself completely bare. She moaned as his hand parted her lips finding her already drenched.

“Let’s not get anywhere before Damien says so.” He gave her a pinch.

“She is so very impatient.”

“Mmm, terribly so.”

Nadja turned around and began undressing him, loosening his tie. “It takes one to know one.”

She passed the tie back to Rebecca.

“Are you saying I’m impatient? Such insolence. I may make you sit in the corner and not allow you to touch yourself while you watch me fuck your sister in every position imaginable.”

His jacket and shirt were passed to Rebecca, who had carefully laid them over the armchair.

“You wouldn’t do that, would you? Will the Antichrist show no mercy to his most devoted followers?”

She had pouted, and he couldn’t help but smile. She really did look much younger. So sweet and innocent compared to her sister’s stern countenance and exacting nature that sometimes made her look older than twenty-two.

“I’ve seen you in action. I might be the one begging for mercy.”

Deft fingers undid his belt, unbuttoned and unzippered his pants, picking them up off the floor and once again handing them to her sister. She removed his socks.

Nadja reached around and gave his bare ass a smack and then removed his briefs so that now he was completely naked.

Rebecca came behind her sister and rested her head on her shoulder. “I believed you said something about making her watch us…”

“Would we be so cruel?”

Rebecca hooked her fingers around the top of her sister’s panties and worked them down until they were around her feet, and then stepped out of them. She bent down and picked them up.

“My, I think I could ring them out.” She threw them onto the armchair.

“Enjoying the thought of fucking your sister and the Antichrist…keep it up and there really be no chance of you ever getting into the so-called god’s good graces.”

The bra now followed the panties, and he turned her around so that once again her back was against his front. He moved his hands up her stomach and cupped her ample breasts, making her sigh. She reached back and ran her hands through his hair.

He turned his attention to Rebecca. “Two of these things are not like the other…”

“I guess I am more than a little overdressed.” She looked down at herself.

“We demand entertainment. Strip.” Nadja clapped her hands twice.

“Since when does my little sister tell me what to do?”

“Since now, so hurry up.”

“She does have point. We demand entertainment.” He clapped his hands twice. “Strip.”

Using one of the posts, she swung herself up onto the bed and began a striptease…

Not only would it have been difficult to tell that they were related, it would have also been difficult to tell that the pair of them were skilled killers who had taken life more than once. He kissed Nadja’s neck and could feel the heat beneath her tanned skin. If the one on the bed was cold-blooded in her approach to ending life, the one in his arms was fire and gasoline…

It may have been thirteen years ago, but he still remembered Mrs. Baylock attempting to tear Robert Thorn apart…he could even now feel her ferocity, determination and love, and if he could somehow become one with his younger self, his little five-year-old hands would be helping her for daring to lay hands on him and more importantly, attempting to stop Satan and his plans. Damien had seen in person what Nadja Petersen could do with her bare hands. He kissed her neck again. The same energy that coursed through his nanny’s veins all those years ago raced through Nadja’s veins as well…

Rebecca was now naked and the pair of them gave her a round of applause as she got off the bed and made her way to a wardrobe that contained no clothing.

“It’s much appreciated.” She pulled out the harness for the strap-on and chose the length of the phallus. “What do you think?”

“Please no.”

“No?” Damien took hold of Nadja around the wrists; she was now pretending to break out of his grasp.

“I’m a good girl. A virgin. I’m saving myself…”

“Let’s see how much of a so-called good girl you are.” Along with the harness and phallus, Rebecca brought with her a small leather case, which, along with the phallus was tossed onto the bed. She quickly slipped on the harness, and came to where Damien was standing, a writhing Nadja in his grasp. Her legs were pressed together.

Rebecca roughly worked her right hand between her sister’s legs, moving until she was at the apex of her thighs. She was rougher still as fingers found their way into Nadja’s cunt.

“And?”

“See for yourself.”

Damien licked the wetness off of Rebecca’s fingers. “A good girl? Your sister stands naked before you and rather than chastise her immodesty, you are wet and ready.” His right hand held both wrists in place as his left reached up and yanked her head back by her hair. “The son of the Devil himself holds you in his hands and rather than beg the so-called god to forgive and save you, you are drenched like a street whore. I bet your thighs are just slick.”

“No.”

“Oh, yes. Onto the bed with you.”

Damien appreciated the ensuing struggle; if the sisters were nothing else, which was in fact not the case, they were up for nearly anything.

He sat back on his thighs while holding Nadja under her arms as she leaned against his chest. Rebecca knelt in front of them.

“Spread,” she ordered.

Instead, Nadja drew her legs up against herself and turned away from her sister, but it left her ass exposed. Damien had to hand it to her self-control for not coming right then and there.

Rebecca grabbed her face. “Whore. Slut. And whores and sluts need to be beaten.” She left and returned with a riding crop.

“Please, no!”

“All I heard was please.” Rebecca smirked.

“That’s what I heard. Our fine whore is practically begging for it.”

The riding crop came down with a resplendent crack on the swell of her exposed right hip.

“Was that a moan of enjoyment, Damien?”

“I most definitely think it was.”

“Spread your legs.”

“No…”

“I think sweet Nadja, unnecessarily, doth protest too much.”

The riding crop met bare flesh again and her back arched.

“Spread.”

“I can’t…”

“You defy me, Satan’s son? You defy your sister, your flesh and blood? Give in. Be the slut and whore you want to be. Like your sister.”

“Who is so much happier for it.”

“No more waiting.” He reached down and turned her so that her ass was on the bed and forcibly opened her legs. He could see in the glow of the desk lamp how slick she was.

“That pussy is just glistening. No need to be ashamed. I want to fuck you. The Antichrist wants to fuck you. Give in to your lusts and desires. Trust me when I say that you will be a better woman for it.” She reached out and perfectly polished nails traced along her lips, spreading them apart, vigorously rubbing, and applying various pressure, watching as her wetness sprang anew.

She moaned, lifting up her hips, but still stopped herself from completely giving in to what was being done to her.

“I bet, ma sœur, you taste better than all the sweets in the finest candy shop in the whole, wide world. Let’s find out.” Rebecca was now on all fours and kissed up Nadja’s calf until she reached the inside of her thigh.

“No…”

“I think your sister would agree with me that that was most definitely a ‘no’ that had way more than a hint of a ‘yes’ behind it.”

Rebecca spread Nadja’s legs apart even further and delved into her cunt, licking and savouring the wetness that slicked her sister’s thighs. She gently sucked the tiny jewel and smiled as Nadja’s hips rose up again, this time higher than the last. She reached between her legs, finding her own readiness and offered her hand to her sister.

She was up on her hands. “You taste so fucking fine. I could eat that peach of yours all day. Turnabout is fair play. Taste me.”

“I can’t…”

“But you want to.” Damien whispered in her ear and watched as her flesh goosepimple at his words. “Don’t you.”

“If you were anymore ready, Damien would have to buy a new bed.” She reached between her legs again, wetting her fingers and holding them out once again. “Taste me, sister. Taste my love for you. My love for my God; a God that willing and wholeheartedly fucks us until we scream with joy.”

“Taste her. Be the whore you want to be.”

A tentative tongue came out, licking and tasting. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she took the fingers into her mouth and sucked, moaning in sheer delight.

Rebecca held out her hand and Damien handed her the phallus and she attached it. She leaned forward, applying the lightest pressure to Nadja’s nethers, causing her to gasp and drive up her hips.

“Fuck…more…but…”

“I can give you more.” She spit onto her hand, rubbing it on the phallus, though the extra lubrication was most definitely not needed.

“But no decent man will have me.”

Damien ran his thumbs over her hardened nipples. “Why would you want a man who wouldn’t want a slut for a wife? An absolute whore who will fuck when and where she wants to. He doesn’t deserve her…doesn’t deserve you.”

“But my soul will be damned.”

A wicked smiled drew up the corners of Rebecca’s mouth. “Then, my darling sister, we will be damned together.”

Apparently Nadja could wait no longer and reached up and grabbed Rebecca pulling her down and their mouths met, teeth clashing together as need and desire forced her hand.

“So beautiful…” Damien stroked Nadja’s hair.

She shifted down and opened her legs as wide as she could and with one motion, Rebecca was inside of her, thrusting as Nadja’s legs were around her waist. Rebecca reached over, taking a nipple in her mouth, sucking, pulling, biting as her sister held her closer.

“Oh God…Please don’t stop…”

“Which God, little one?”

“The one true God. Fuck me, Damien. Make me yours.”

“Amen and all in good time. Blesséd be the child who finds their way to Satan’s bosom.”

“Amen, indeed. What a beautiful sister I have.”

“And very wise in her young age.”

Her face was buried in Rebecca’s neck, and they were murmuring things to each other…kisses and nuzzling that went from sweet and gentle to hard and fierce without direction from one to the other.

Nadja’s breathing came in ragged fits, and she was holding back the tidal wave that was just dying to be let loose. He smiled because he could feel it. It had risen up like the sun just before dawn, the light that kissed the horizon, pausing just before it crested.

Rebecca was up on both hands, grasping the bed for leverage as she fucked Nadja, relentless in her task, smiling as she knew her sister was reigning herself in and could do nothing but remember to breath so she didn’t pass out.

Rebecca lowered her head and kissed her. “You can come now.”

Her orgasm overpowered her she could do nothing but ride it out and drive herself upwards to meet her sister’s thrusting. She writhed against the pleasure, attempted to get all of it before it sunk back down.

“There she is.” She had not stopped thrusting. “What an absolute gorgeous girl I have. Satan would be lucky to have her.” She met her sister’s mouth with her own. “So much better. Nope. Hands off that pretty cunt of yours. On all fours like the good little whore you are. It’s Damien’s turn now.”

Nadja eagerly did what was asked of her.

“Are you a whore? Damien knelt behind her. He was hard. “Lest you sully such a proud word on repentant lips. If so, say it.”

She on her elbows, her ass in the air, her legs spread as far as she could. “I’m your whore.”

“Glad to hear it. And I also think as a way to thank your sister for fucking you so beautifully, I think that prick she has on could do with a good cleaning. What do you think?”

She lifted up Nadja’s chin. “Every drop of it, sister, or else I will make you sit in the corner and not let you touch yourself while I fuck Damien in every position imaginable.”

Rebecca sat back as Nadja’s tongue reached out and flicked the phallus.

“Very nice. I can feel you. You are so much happier right now. Good, pure, virginal, want, emptiness…you get to leave all of that behind. Just warmth and knowing that you are loved by my Father, who works his will in the world.”

“Amen.”

“That was sincere, Nadja, and I reward sincerity. I’m going to fuck you and enjoy every inch of your beautiful body.”

He took a hold of her hips and with one thrust was inside her cunt. He ran his right hand up her back, then down, his hands moving her ass and hips, all the while never stopping pounding into her.

“And if our whore can prevent herself from coming until I say so, she will find herself very occupied in all manner of Godly acts for most of the night.”

“Damien…” she groaned.

He watched as she reached out and began licking the phallus clean of her and then with a smirk, took the whole cock into her mouth.

“I think our slut is much more talented than she has been letting on.” Rebecca moved Nadja’s hair aside, so it didn’t end up in her mouth.

“She is so wet. Hard to stay inside of her.” He pulled back his left arm, his hand landing on the thickness of her hip, sending the sound through the room. “As if a good girl keeps her cunt shaved.”

“I think my prick has been cleaned as much as it’s going to get.” She stood up to remove everything and threw it onto the bed. “How is she doing?” She kissed her forehead.

“She’s struggling so very hard not to come. I’m very pleased with our little one.”

“As am I”

Unlike with Ramona, he could at least concentrate on what was going on and be present in the situation. He didn’t have to picture nailing the nazarene to a cross to be able to come.

He was warmed and made ready by the love and devotion they bore for him and for his Father. They genuinely sought to serve and both, especially Rebecca, had understood and accepted the decision that they had made to give their souls to Satan. He also had been more than surprised to find that the love they had for one another made him far more appreciative and…harder than he thought possible when he discovered that they were sisters.

But they were not Mark. His cock was buried in her to the hilt so to speak, and he was living a fantasy some men would sell their souls for, and he should know. They were fierce, beautiful, and each devoted to him and Satan in their own ways. There were things he felt for them that had no translation to human emotion, and he always did his best to convey his appreciation for what they did for him.

He ran his hand down her hip, and held his hand out for the riding crop, which Rebecca handed to him, and he let the leather land with a crack. She cried out.

“She is gorgeous. Shall we keep her?”

He smiled. “Oh, we are far from through. Our whore has the whole night ahead of her to prove her worth. That cunt and ass of hers are going to be very well ridden by the time we’re done with her. I’m going to come now, Nadja. You will wait for your turn, or there will be consequences.”

He drove himself into her, hard, fast, and without mercy, hanging onto her hips, as his orgasm swept through him, and he smiled as his pleasure crested and pulled away. There were better ways to spend an evening, but not many. He had not pulled out and kept thrusting into her.

“Now you, and not too loud. I don’t like company in my room that I didn’t invite.”

It took only moments until she came, and once again she could do nothing but chase after it until it disappeared back from where it came, burying her face into her arm to stifle herself.

Rebecca, who had sat beside Damien, reached down and gingerly lifted her sister up by her hair so that the pair of them were both sitting back: Damien on his thighs, her sister on him.

He was still inside of her, and he was bearing most of her weight as she was too drained to hold herself up. His and Rebecca’s hands were pressed against her cunt, rubbing against her clit. “To whom do you belong?” He bit her shoulder.

“Satan…” Her head lolled against him.

“Each and every time you say my Father’s name, you will say it with pride and surety. To whom else do you belong?”

She couldn’t answer as her orgasm came and subsided rather quickly, she put her arms around him.

“To whom else do you belong, Nadja?”

“Damien Thorn…”

“Well said. Like my Father’s name, my name on your lips will be uttered with pride and surety.”

She let their hands bear all of her weight as she struggled to have her moment of pleasure as a small orgasm waxed and waned. Both could tell that she had, at least for now, reached her limit.

“To whom else do you belong, whore?” Rebecca held a finger under Nadja’s chin.

“My sister.” Though she was no longer able to maintain the charade and giggled.

“You better believe it. And asking you to treat my name with pride and surety is pointless. Just try to do what I tell you every once and a while.”

Damien carefully let her go, and she collapsed against Rebecca, who caressed her sister’s face.

“I did good?” She sighed with utter contentment, stretching like a cat.

“My perfect girl always does good. I love you.” She held onto her sister, tenderly kissing her.

“I love you more.” She returned the kiss but gave her sister’s lip a bite.

Damien kept a small fridge behind his desk…water, soda, juice, ice, some fruit sliced up and cheese. Nothing alcoholic. He made it a point to never drink in his room alone. He returned to the bed with a bottle of water that he opened and handed to Rebecca, who handed it to Nadja.

“Drink and don’t give me back talk.”

She sucked back the water, finishing it in one go, drawing in breath between each gulp.

Damien took the empty bottle from her. “Better?”

“Mmmm…”

“I’d say that’s a yes. While I’m not your sister, you did very good. We can wait for…”

“I’m twenty-one not fifty-one.” She sat up. “And thank-you.” She kissed his cheek.

“Does big sister want a turn?”

“What do you think?”

She honestly did remind him so much of himself. Not that Rebecca couldn’t roleplay or use her imagination, but some quiet time was needed after all of that.

They sat in front of each other and without being asked, Nadja had brought over the small leather case and handed it to Damien.

Inside was a knife, which he pulled out. The handle was ebony, as black as the floors of the Chapel he walked daily. He unfolded it: the stainless-steel of the blade glinted brightly in the light.

She smiled and he could feel her. She would let him kill her if necessary, and that devotion moved through him, warmed him and sent blood to the part of his anatomy that could show her his gratitude much more pleasurably than his words. He reached out and touched her face.

“Damien…” she leaned into his hand, kissing it.

He watched as Nadja took up her spot kneeling up tall behind her sister.

He was hard and she eased herself onto him, kissing his forehead as she made herself comfortable. Her mouth found the heat of his neck and she kissed him.

He asked neither she nor Nadja to say the words; those words were for show. Their devotion was written on their hearts, minds, souls and devoutly delivered in their actions.

He bent down and took her left nipple in his mouth, kissing, sucking, biting as hard as he dared without breaking skin. He could feel her left hand in his hair while he held onto her right. His mouth found her neck, felt the heat that ran beneath her skin, the red inside screaming at him to be set free.

She handed him the knife and she kissed the cool metal as he held it up. She tilted her head toward the right, giving him easier access to the top of her left shoulder. They were moving against each other, and while she was an expert at controlling her pleasure, she gasped and felt her cunt throb as the blade sang across her skin and sent a rivulet down toward her left breast.

His index finger came out and swiped through the red and offered it up to her. “You first.”

She closed her eyes as the familiar tang of copper hit her tongue and she and smiled as Damien took his finger and smeared more blood over her lips.

Nadja lowered her head to meet her sister’s reaching up and their mouths met, and a moan escaped the younger’s lips.

Damien put his mouth where he had cut and licked up the blood that still trickled out of the first wound and he continued to lick until the blood thickened to the point that it did not flow as freely. Her hands grasped his hair.

“Now who’s the impatient one?” There was a smile on his lips as he had asked the question.

“Bite your tongue.”

Another flicked of the blade sent fresh blood streaming, once again down her left breast. He nodded at Nadja, who lowered her mouth onto the blood, lapping at it like a kitten lapping up cream, and once again hers and Rebecca’s mouths met. A third flick and another flow of blood headed toward her breast.

While he had indulged in nearly every sexual act there was…had given in to every wanton desire that had crossed his mind, there were, as of yet, only two things he did not do: kiss anyone on the mouth or allow anyone to cut and taste him. Those things were reserved for Mark and Mark alone, and while the sisters might not know the why of those two things, they knew better than to push him to try to change his mind.

The scent of blood was heady, and Rebecca lay her head on Damien’s shoulder, the whole time, never stopping moving against him.

He took her left nipple into his mouth, only now it was slick with blood.

“You taste so fucking good, Rebecca. To whom do you belong?” He had whispered the words in her ear.

“To Satan…to you.” She kissed his neck and murmured the words against his skin. “I’m your whore always.”

“Glad to hear it.”

She had lifted her head and the pair of them were now looking at each other.

“Such a shame to end this…” he smiled.

“I’m always keen to pick it up at a later date. Besides, if this one behind me gets too bored waiting, who knows what mischief she’ll get into.”

“Ah, yes. I almost forgot that our whore must prove herself worthy lest we kick her out onto the streets.” He reached out and kissed her forehead. “After you.”

Rebecca pressed herself harder against him, tightly holding on. She moaned as he got his right hand between her leg, his fingers moving over her cunt, expertly pressing against her tiny bump. And then…

“Damien!”

Her hands grasped his hair as she did not stop moving and she found herself quickly coming again as his fingers had not stopped what they were doing between her legs.

“Fuck…” she moaned, her lips pressed against his shoulder.

“Your sister is not the only one whose cunt and ass will be well ridden tonight.”

“I hope not.” She sighed as the last of her pleasure dissipated. “Now you, Mr. Thorn.”

He slammed his hips into hers, holding her tightly to him as he came, spilling himself into her, moving against her until his pleasure, at least temporarily, was gone. He suddenly felt his ear being nibbled and realized that Nadja had moved behind him.

“I like watching you fuck my sister.”

He laughed. “I like you watching me fuck your sister.”

“See what I mean? Mischief.”

“I want more.”

“Such an eager whore we have.” He turned to her. “You’re going to suck my cock.”

“I don’t know how.” She bit her lip.

“Well, then your sister and I will show you. And? If you do a very good job, unlike the phallus you practically swallowed, you get something better than candy at the end of it all.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Damien sat on the edge of the bed and spread his legs open. “Kneel like the good slut you are.”

She quickly scrambled off the bed and slowly got down on her knees between his legs.

“Like this?”

“It could be better.”

Rebecca got out of the bed, stood in front of him, straddle his knee and sat. He smiled as she moved against him. He could feel her wetness and with the dried blood on her breast…he could devour her where she stood.

“Much better.

She leaned forward and bit his earlobe. “It’s about showing Damien how much you want to suck his cock. How wet it gets you. How turned on you are.”

She practically slithered her way down to the floor; the pair of them now between his legs.

“I might not only need a new bed, but a new carpet. An excellent whore, like your sister, Nadja, knows it’s not just about putting your mouth over my cock and starting, though there is nothing wrong with tasting me.”

With a smirk, Rebecca took his prick in her hand, and she lowered her head and he felt himself inside of her mouth. Her head moved down and up once. She moved out of the way while Nadja repeated the action.

“Like that?” Nadja leaned forward and kissed his prick.

“Fuck. What did I do to deserve such utter whores at my feet?”

“Perhaps the better question is what didn’t you do?” Rebecca looked up at him.

“Quite right.”

“Hold out your hand.” Rebecca demanded of her sister and then spit it in. “Now you.” She watched as Nadja added her own spit and the pair of them took turns sliding their hands up and down the shaft of his cock, all the while the older explaining to the younger what was going on.

He had been wrong earlier when he had thought there were better ways to spend an evening but not many. Right now, he could think of only two…fucking Mark and butchering the nazarene. He also suddenly felt like seeing Richard and Ann off wasn’t that important as he first thought, but he had promised Mark that he would be there, so that’s what would happen.

His hand was in Rebecca’s hair, moving it aside and watching as she showed Nadja how to tease him; the absolute delicious things that would happen once Richard and Ann left. The thought of Mark in the mix was enough to make him come right now.

Take your time. You have miles to go before you get to sleep…

…666…

It was almost quarter to four when the trio called it quits. They quickly changed the sheets, and then they were in the shower, rinsing off blood and whatever bodily fluids needed rinsing off. Neither one of the women washed their hair, but Damien never felt right in the shower unless he washed his, though his hair was easier to dry. He would be taking another shower when he got up and he would get his hair the way he wanted it.

Nadja slept on the left and Damien sat beside her on the bed.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She touched his face.

“Yes, you will.” He put his hand over hers.

“I love you.”

“I appreciate everything you do, Nadja. You rest and I will see you downstairs.” He kissed her forehead.

Rebecca was in the middle of the bed and turned to her sister. “And one complaint about you getting up two and a half hours from now…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Their mouths met and Rebecca pulled away first, also laying a kiss on her sister’s forehead.

“See if you can get him to talk.”

“I will. Night.”

“Good night.” She went over on her side and pulled the blankets up over her shoulder.

“Talk about what?” He slipped into bed next to Rebecca.

“There is something up. So, spill.” She rolled over onto her left side and propped herself up on her elbow.

“Now?”

“Better make it quick or someone is going to be saying goodbye to Ann and Richard on no sleep.”

“There are going to be some changes while they are gone.”

“Oh.”

“Not like that. In fact, you and Nadja are going to be the only ones here. Agatha and Brigette are going to be getting a very well-deserved, six-week paid vacation. My stomach will be sadder for it, but my prick will be beside itself with joy.”

“Neither one of us cook.”

“The cleaning service will come, and I think I can handle some meals. I do so enjoy being waited on hand and foot, but there is delivery, and I do intend to take in some of the city’s finest dining establishments.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with, oh, I don’t know, completely out of the blue, Mark, would it?”

He could feel himself practically blanch. “Please tell me it isn’t that obvious.”

“No. But, you forget.” She lifted her left hand spread open her index and middle fingers, revealing a very tiny swirl of three sixes nestled around each other. “It’s my duty to watch out for you, so I do. The past two days, you’ve been extra attentive of him, and there is a smile on your face that I’ve never seen you have, and I’ve known you for over three years. The Antichrist in love. I’m glad. I don’t suppose you…”

“I am in full-fledged denial about any and all conversations that will be had after he and I fuck each other senseless more times than I can count.”

“I do hope that Nadja and I will be involved somehow. It would be just terrible to have to watch you bend Mark over the dining room table and fuck him raw and just watch. Though we will all abided by your wishes, off course.”

“Trust me when I say, there are plans afoot.”

This time it was her turn to pout. “You are no fair.”

“I’m the Antichrist. I don’t do fair.”

“Lucky Mark.”

“Lucky?”

“He gets your heart and soul…though I am quite happy with your prick.” She reached over and put her hand on his face.

“Glad to hear it.”

“I love you.”

She went to remove her hand, but he stayed it. “I appreciate more than I can say with words both you and Nadja. I hope you know it.”

“And you show it.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Always. Whatever you need from us, just ask. I am also assuming that we are keeping mum on the fact that Nadja and I are sisters?”

“I will. I’ll see you downstairs, and yes. I wanna ease him into all of this.”

“Understood.”

Damien watched as she lay on her back, pulled the blankets up, closed her eyes. He smiled.

“Sometimes I’m eighteen-years-old.”

She smiled. “Sometimes.” Though she now opened her eyes and looked at him. “If I am kept up with you and Mark playing videogames and watching movies until all hours…”

“We’ll be quiet. Promise.” He crossed his heart.

She closed her eyes again. Sometimes he waited until they were both asleep until he nodded off, but there were only a couple of hours before he had to be up, so he rolled over onto his left side and faced the window. It was still dark outside, but already, there were birds chirping in the distance, which normally irritated the fuck out of him. Instead, he closed his eyes and thought about life for the next three weeks. Better than visions of sugarplums danced in his head and not long after that, he was out.

Chapter Text

It was six forty-five in the morning when the family sat and had what would be their last breakfast together for the next six weeks. Everything was already in the van since the Thorns weren’t taking very much, considering that they owned the houses they would be staying at, and Ann had already had her shopping excursions organized in both Italy and France.

Eventually, after breakfast, they ended up in the foyer where Richard handed each of the boys a bank card.

“That’s for the house fund. Any shopping you need to do, make sure it comes out of that. I’ve also deposited some money into your personal accounts. Now, you’re both going to be alone here. You’re okay with that?”

Mark let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, we’re fine with that. I am going away to school in September, where Damien and I will be alone. By ourselves. With no babysitter.”

“I can get Paul to come and check on you if…”

“If you send Paul Buher over here to check up on us, I will literally die of embarrassment.”

“Just making sure. If you either of you need…”

He didn’t seem to notice that Mark was ready to lose his shit over the micromanaging and coddling.

“It’s all good. I already have the house numbers in my phone, and that already includes both your numbers for your phones. I also have the numbers to the local police in Madrid. If anything does happen, I will let Paul know.”

“Richard, the van is ready.”

“I guess we’re off. Mark.”

“You two have fun.”

“I’ll miss you and you call me anytime, day or night, even just to talk, if you need to. Okay?”

Richard hugged his son.

“I will.”

“Damien. You don’t have to go into the office everyday.”

Richard gave him a brief hug and patted him on the back.

“I won’t.” I’ll be having far too much fun debauching your son.

“Oh, my boys. I’ll miss you both so much!”

Ann grabbed them and squeezed them in a tight hug.

“Breathing is becoming an issue, mother…”

She kissed both of their cheeks. “The numbers are by the phone in the family room. Call if you need anything.”

“We will. Though…the sting of being left by ourselves might be made better if they pair you came home with lots of presents…just saying.” 

“Don’t give her ideas, Mark. I’m already going to need another plane just to bring back everything she’s planned on buying.”

Outside, the day was shaping up to be a scorcher. Not surprising seeing how the first week of July was ending. More hugs and kisses were exchanged, and Damien and Mark watched as the driver held the door open for Ann and went round to the other side and opened the door for Richard. He then closed it and got into the driver’s seat. No doubt with prompting from Ann, the driver honked the horn several times and the younger Thorns waved as the van made its way down the long driveway, out onto the side road, turned right onto the main road, then disappeared.

Damien smirked. If he had his way, and he usually did, Richard would not recognize his own son when he returned.

“I’m getting tired of him treating me like a fucking child.”

“I’m getting tired of him treating you like a fucking child. So.” He turned to Mark. “We’re two men with the house to ourselves. What do we do first?”

Mark didn’t reply, but Damien followed his cousin to the kitchen and to the fridge. Mark opened the door, took out a beer and handed it to him. He then grabbed one for himself; they both cracked open their bottles.

“Here’s to being on our own.”

He clinked his bottle against Mark’s. “I’ll drink to that.”

“I say, we make complete wastrels of ourselves today. Unless the erudite and sophisticated Damien Thorn has other plans that are more…erudite and sophisticated.”

He took another drink from his bottle, nearly finishing the bottle in one go, and belched Mark’s name. “Let’s go make the day our bitch.”

He and Mark spent the day gloriously doing nothing…tv, movies, swimming in the pool, wasting time on social media apps, making obnoxious comments on their friends’ YouTube channels. If there was a way to kill brain cells with completely unintellectual pursuits, they did it.

They had also gorged themselves on junk food and take-out from Chan’s and DiPietro’s, with enough Chinese and pizza to sink the Titanic.

He and Mark were downstairs in the games room, finishing up a session of Call of Duty: Vanguard with some friends, though they had opted out of moving onto Mortal Kombat 12, so they said good night to the others.

Damien took of his headphones. “Do I now get to find out what the fuck you were so taken with yesterday?”

“How do you feel about a party? And you had better feel good about it, because we’re having one whether you like it or not.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I think I might be experiencing premature dementia in my young age. Did Mark Thorn of all people suggest a party? Will there be girls at this party, Mark?”

“Fuck you.”

He laughed and deflected a pack of Red Vines that came flying at him. “Mark Thorn throwing a party. I might have to check the weather and see if Hell has indeed frozen over. Have you picked a date yet?

“No, but everyone I’ve asked to come is free for the next week. Is there anyone you want…”

Damien shook his head. “This is your party; you invite whoever you want. I make friends and influence people wherever I go, so I will just have to cope with whoever shows up. My birthday was last month. I don’t need to be the belle of the ball all time. Speaking of belle…did Mark invite someone special?” He batted his eyes at him.

“In fact, I did, but who she is, you will find out at the party.”

He frowned. “You’re no fun.”

It was nearly one in the morning when the pair of them cleaned up the kitchen. He had eaten roast beef sandwiches for lunch today, and breakfast fare for tomorrow would consist of leftover Chinese.

“I’m going to finish down here. Why don’t you head up to bed.” Damien had transferred the food into glass bowls and ditched what was left of the pizza.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good Night. Night, Carl.”

Damien’s dog lifted his head, issued a seemingly conciliatory woof and went back to resting his head on his paws while he lounged under the table.

“Don’t sound so disappointed you’re not sleeping with him.”

He reached down to give his dog a scratch behind the ear and finished putting the food away. He washed out containers and put whatever belonged in the garbage in there and put what was left into the recycling. Once he was done, he closed down the kitchen and with his dog in tow, made his way to his room.

The day had been spent with Mark, so he hadn’t had the chance to make a scheduled for how things would run short staffed, though he had let Agatha and Brigette know of their paid time off when they were leaving. He had no more sat down at his desk when there was a knock at the door; he answered it with a smile.

“Evening.” He stepped aside as Rebecca came in.

“Evening, to you.”

“Not there ever needs to be a reason, but to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

She sat behind the desk. “Business actually. Wasn’t sure if you needed help, but…” She signed out of his cloud drive and signed into her own.

He pulled up the other chair and sat and quickly understood what he was seeing, a schedule for cleaning and keeping the house organized. There was also a revised grocery list for food to be ordered. “Rebecca, you didn’t have to do that…”

“I know. You were busy with Mark all day today, which is good, so I didn’t think that you would much of a chance.”

“It is very much appreciated.”

“I also came up with a new email for all four of us to use. What you see here is about ninety percent of it. I’ll work on the rest tomorrow. What’s with the grin?”

“You need to figure in a party.”

“What kind of party are we talking about? Shall I book the cleaning crew now?”

“That wasn’t me; that was Mark.”

“Really.”

“That’s what I said. I think he pretty much has it under control. He hasn’t picked a day yet, which I am assuming means it isn’t going to be tomorrow. Now what’s with your grin?”

She sat back in the chair. “Actually, that might be a good way for Mark and I and Nadja to start talking. Approach him with the planning since she and I are handling everything that needs to be ordered for the house.”

“Did Richard give you a house…”

“Yes.”

“How’s your shoulder?”

“It hurts, but we both know I don’t mind. Did you tell Mark about the reduction in staff?”

“Not yet.” He was quiet. “It was nice to spend the day with him doing completely fuck all.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but…”

“You, me, and Nadja will sit and have a talk.”

She felt herself grow warm. “Go on…”

“I told you there were plans afoot. He’s a shy boy. I’m hoping to break him of that shyness, among other things, while Ann and Richard are away.” Damien took Rebecca’s hand and pulled her to him so that she got off the chair she was in and straddled him. “Once again, I appreciate all of your help.”

“Always glad to…lend a hand as it were. Anything we do now will have to be quick. Nadja has laid claims on me.”

“I want my women content. Go take care of her.” He pulled down the material of the robe at her left shoulder, exposing the gauze that covered the marks he had made with the knife and kissed it. “You have a good night and pass along my gratitude to her.”

“I will…in more ways than one. Night.” She kissed his cheek and got up, and left his room, closing the door behind herself.

Eventually he flossed and brushed and got into bed. He sent a thought to his dog and the next thing he felt was the weight of a one hundred-and forty-pound Rottweiler jump up onto the bed. He came sniffing up from the end of the bed to the pillows beside him. He flopped down and let out a sigh.

“Perhaps I need to find someone for you to copulate with. That’s going to be a lot of you being put out of rooms and left out of things. I am also grateful for what you do for me.” He gave the dog some skritches behind the ear.

Damien settled in and smiled. “Sleep well, Mark because it starts tomorrow.”

And with that thought, he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Mark opened his eyes and reached out to his bedside table for his phone; it was eight-thirty. A little later than he was used to waking up, but he was enjoying taking it easy. In mere weeks, the pair of them would be at Yale, and he doubted that there would be much chance for sleeping in.

He smiled to himself and stretched out in his bed. He had come close to breaking down and telling his cousin about the party sooner than he had planned; Damien being petulant and pouty was apparently a weakness, and while his cousin had been talking, he had wanted nothing more than to lean over and bit his lip.

He sat up. With the exception of the party, he had no idea how he and Damien were going to pass their time together. He had to, however, stop fantasizing because it would do nothing but leave him frustrated.

He got out of bed and threw on a pair of dark green track pants that had Davidson Military Academy down the right leg and a white t-shirt and headed downstairs but stopped; there was no overwhelming scent of bacon and sausage. He continued down the stairs and made his way to the kitchen where he found it empty.

He shook his head and went to walk-in the pantry and found the cereals. He was in a Lucky Charms mood, so decided on that. In the cupboard, he grabbed a bowl.

“Ah. Mark Thorn. Just the person I was looking for.”

He nearly dropped the bowl on the floor, but quickly recovered himself, slamming it onto the counter to prevent it from falling.

“Oh, hey, Rebecca.” He turned and gave her what he could only guess was an awkward smile.

Agatha and Brigette were older, maternal types and radiated about as much sexual energy as a bowl of rice pudding. Rebecca however…

She usually wore her long hair in a bun, and more than once he had wanted to pull out the very decorative pins and sticks that held her hair up and watch it cascade down her shoulders like a dark waterfall. Today, she wore it as she had last night, a long braid that hung down her back.

Statuesque. The word perfectly suited her. In fact, when he had learned the word, he had immediately thought of her. Dominatrix was another word that when he learned it, it had made him think of her. Like Damien, she had sternness about her that had probably existed since childhood.

Neither she nor Nadja were the help, so she didn't wear a uniform. She usually wore an pantsuit, but now she was causally dressed in what was obviously an expensive pair of capris and an actual Lacoste polo shirt.

“How are you this morning?”

“Well, thank you. And you?”

“Very well. I hear you’re having a party.”

 “Damien told you?”

“Yes, and since I will be helping you get what you need, I thought we could have a chat.”

“Rebecca, have you seen…well, well, well, Mark Thorn. Fancy meeting you here.”

He gulped down a hey and turned to pretend to see to his bowl of cereal but steadied himself before he turned around again. “Good morning, Nadja.”

She pouted. “So formal.”

Since he had known her, he had resisted calling her Tinker Bell, because that’s who she reminded him of, though her hair was a luminous dark brown instead of blonde. She also had the personality to match, and he had seen her nearly lose her temper on more than one occasion. She had more curves than the Disney fairy, and it wasn’t the animated version who had made her way into more than a few of his masturbatory fantasies.

Like her sister, she usually wore a pantsuit, but today, she wore hip hugging khaki shorts that just covered her ass cheeks and very tight, light grey Thorn Industries t-shirt with cap sleeves. 

God help me.  

“Have either of you seen Damien?”

“You rang?”

Damien came into the kitchen and headed straight to the fridge, taking out the leftover Chinese food from last night. He spooned most of it onto a plate, put the plate in the microwave, set the timer and pressed start.

“Want some?”

“No thanks. Where’s Agatha?”

“Until Richard and Ann get back, the lovely and talented Rebecca and Nadja will be the only ones staying at the house. The cleaning company will come on certain days and we can have delivery and I thought we could hit some fine dining establishments. Also thought we could try our hand at some cooking.”

“Why?”

“You’ll have to be a little more specific.”

“Why no Agatha and Brigette?”

“Because I don’t want more people in the house than absolutely necessary.”

He watched as Damien got his plate out of the microwave.

“Grab your cereal and sit at the table.”

Everything seemed off, but he did as Damien asked, and grabbed his bowl, the milk, and a spoon, and sat. Rebecca turned to him.

“Do you have a plan for the party and some kind of schedule?”

“In my room.”

“Would you be able to go get that?”

“Now?”

“You want a party fairly soon. Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Food needs to be ordered and people need to be hired to cook. And depending on the kind of party you want, you’ll need people to serve. So, the quicker we get all that figured out, the easier it is. Unless you want to do all that yourself. I also sent an email to you this morning. That is the email address I’d like to use while your parents are away.”

“Give me a sec.”

He took off to his room. Something very weird was going on, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. His cousin loved being waited on, so the fact that there were going to be fewer people here, not to mention that Damien Thorn of all people had suggested that the pair of them try their hand at cooking…

He grabbed what he had printed out, and his phone, and came back downstairs to the kitchen and handed the paper to Rebecca.

“Thank you.”

Mark ate his cereal as Rebecca looked over what he had written.

“A BBQ is very do able. When were you planning on having it?”

“Most of the people I’ve invited are very flexible. Is the day after tomorrow too soon?”

“You have twenty-two people you’ve invited; that should be fine. Any vegetarians? Or anyone with allergies?”

He frowned. “I didn’t think about. Not sure.”

“Find out ASAP and let me know. Also, there is alcohol on this list. That means underaged drinking. You might want to think about putting a limit on what is available, especially if the pool is going to be used.”

Mark suddenly felt very underprepared for the party, but Rebecca gave him a reassuring smile.

“You wrote down a lot, which is good. Let me handle everything and you just worry about who shows up.”

He checked his email and sure enough there was a new address he didn’t recognize.

“You have until midnight to get back to me. After that, it becomes your responsibility to deal with those who can’t eat what is available.” She stood. “We’ll let you two boys alone, though we will see you both later.”

“Try not to miss us too much until then.”

He watched as Nadja winked at him and then the pair of them left. He turned to Damien, who wore a smirk.

“And we will be seeing them later. Feel like heading outside?”

“Sure.”

They put on their shoes and once outside, all the sporting equipment was kept in large sheds, Mark found the badminton net and other paraphernalia, soccer ball, and a football. He had asked his father multiple times, but so far Richard refused to rip up a part of the back lawn to put in a basketball court.

Mark didn’t expect to beat Damien, his cousin was too good at any sport to lose to him, but he liked keeping Damien on his feet. Most of the time he didn’t intend to win; he intended to make things as difficult as possible for his cousin.

Soccer had followed badminton, and now, they were throwing the football back and forth, getting farther away from each with each throw.

“Heads up!”

Mark turned his attention skyward as Damien had thrown the ball up rather than across to him. He shuffled, took steps to the right and never took his eye off the ball. He had to admit that Damien had one hell of a throwing arm.

He smiled as he caught the ball and then…there was something that seemed to move spectacularly fast and no more did Mark focus on what it was then Damien tackled him, slammed him into the ground, and pinned his arms above his head.

“You dropped the ball, Mark.”

“That’s because someone did his best impression of a fucking Mack truck.”

The next thing he knew, Damien was straddling him. Oh God...think of horrible things happening to your father...heart attack...car accident...Richard getting mugged and stabbed on the way home...anything to not let yourself get hard.

He looked up at Damien’s face: the smile on the Mona Lisa was less mysterious.

“What if the other team had taken possession of the ball, Mark, all because of your one little mistake?”

“But luckily that didn’t happen.” He was torn; part of him wanted Damien to get off him and the other part of him was thinking…please, please just kiss me already. Now. I don’t care who sees...rip my clothes off and fuck me if you want…

“If I were in a different frame of mind right now, I might have to punish you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means what it means.”

Damien silently held him there, pinning his arms over his head, staring into his eyes…staring straight into his soul. Those blue eyes that called to him, siren-like, drown here, Mark, you will die, but you will die happy…soon thinking about his father getting ganged raped by serial killers wasn’t going to do the trick. Thankfully, Damien got off him, and stood up. He held out his right hand and Mark took it, and he was pulled up.

“Here’s a tip: don’t let go of the ball.”

“Thank you, Vince Lombardi.”

“How about we hit the pool and then do lunch?”

Mark smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

After swimming and then drying off, in the kitchen, they made sandwiches, and warmed up soup. While the soup was still heating up, Damien had found a cookbook and they both eventually sat at the table and began their meal.

“I say we make dinner tomorrow.”

“Something easy.”

“Mark, Mark, Mark. When are you going to reach up instead of going for the low hanging fruit? My vote is for my favourite meal.”

“Beef Wellington. You, who have near zero cooking experience, want to try one of the hardest dishes there is to make.”

“It’s beef; it’s wellington. How hard can it be? What’s so funny?”

He still wore the smirk. “Why don’t we each make something. You make your favourite dish; I’ll make mine.” He opened the cookbook and his finger landed on a picture of chicken cacciatore, his most absolute favourite meal. “We will ask Rebecca and Nadja to try our dishes.”

“What are the stakes?”

“Bragging rights, of course. Maybe one of those certificates you can print out. We can hang it on the fridge.”

“I’m in.”

Mark turned the cookbook to him and, and after he skimmed the ingredients, had a look through the pantry and fridge; mostly everything he needed seemed to be there, with the exception of black olives and fresh chicken.

“I am going to change and then head to the store. Need anything?”

“I’m fine.”

“It really is a hard dish to make.”

“I’ll read what I need and have things delivered. Oh, make sure you dress for dinner tonight. I was thinking of Thai?”

“Sounds good.”

“Have fun shopping.”

He left Damien at the kitchen table eating and went upstairs to change. After, he went to the garage to get one of the cars and took off to the city…

…666…

Back at home, Mark unloaded all the groceries. He had decided on roasted vegetables as the accompanying side dish, and something for dessert. It really wasn’t supposed to be a proper dinner, he figured that both of their dishes would be washouts and they’d be eating pizza, but he really wanted to prove to Damien that he could do something better than his cousin.

While he had been out, he had left messages about the party, and upstairs, he found that thankfully those who hadn’t texted back had emailed; he then passed that info on to to Rebecca.

He stripped down and, in the bathroom, turned on the shower.

He still really had no clue what was going on. Maybe they could talk about it over dinner. He smiled. Maybe Damien asking that they put on their Sunday best was an overture to a wonderful romantic evening that would end with the pair of them fucking each other all night long.

One can only hope.

Once he was done in the shower, he towelled off, including his hair, which he combed out and would let air dry. In his room, he went to his closet and took out a suit, and after getting everything else he needed to be dressed for the evening, stood in front of his mirror, and fixed his tie.

“Not bad.”

He left his room, and downstairs he found his cousin in the formal dining room.

“Hey.”

“Perfect timing. The food should be here soon. And if it interests you, I ordered everything needed to make the Beef Wellington.”

“I bet you were surprised to learn there was no…actual…wellington…” He took note of the two extra place settings. “Why is the table set for four?”

“We will be joined tonight by Rebecca and Nadja.”

“Why?”

“I want them here; that’s why.”

“So…what’s the deal with them?”

“What do you think the deal is.”

“You’re dating them.”

“Try again.”

“You fuck them.”

“And they are beyond delicious, and they are both very skilled. They are a good part of the reason that I moved my bedroom across the house. We can be loud.”

“We?”

“We. As in all three of us at the same time.”

“Is there someone else?”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know. Someone else who is more your…they’re the help.”

A smile grew across Damien’s mouth.

“What?”

“How very inegalitarian of you, Mark. I didn’t know you were that much of a snob. That’s okay. In fact, it kind of makes me happy. At least you’re discerning about some things.

“If it makes you feel any better, and so you don’t think that I’m slumming it…Rebecca has a doctorate in translation and speaks, fluently…French, German, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Polish, Hungarian, Danish, and Dutch…there might be some I’m leaving out.

“Nadja has a master’s degree in, and this should interest you, history, your favourite subject. Ancient Athenian and Spartan history to be precise. Just like you. The pair of you should get on like a house on fire. The only reason that she hasn’t gone on to get her PhD is that the pair of them came to work here. Oh, and on top of all of that, their total worth is about one hundred and twenty million dollars. I’ve gone out with girls who weren’t worth that much.”

“I don’t understand then. Why are they here?”

“Would you believe it if I told you that they are here because of me?”

He had no idea how to answer that, but he was literally saved by the bell.

“I’ll get the food.”

In the kitchen, he was surprised to find that Damien had put together hors d'oeuvres and canapés. He heard laughter and realized it was Rebecca and Nadja.

“Good evening, Mark.”

To say that they looked spectacular would have been a vast understatement. Both wore short black dresses, and while Rebecca looked gorgeous, her dress was stunning but tasteful, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Nadja.

The material clung onto her like she had been born in it. It pushed up her already ample breasts even higher, and the three inch heals she had on made her ass look even more curvaceous than it already was. If were a different person, he would have fucked her on the spot.

“Told you we’d see you again.”

She brushed past him, and he could almost feel the blood move from most other places in his body to his cock.

He watched the pair of them interact, and while Damien said that he wasn’t dating them, it was clear that Rebecca and Nadja were dating each other. His cousin just happened to be the lucky bastard who was invited to their party.

He cleared his throat. “Good evening. You both look positively stunning.”

“Thank you. I’m glad that party wise everything is sorted out. Your job is to make sure everyone has a good time.”

“I can do that.”

“I can’t believe Damien made this. Here.”

Nadja had popped a canapé into Rebecca’s mouth, and she leaned over and kissed her girlfriend.

“That tastes even better.”

“Look at me coming in at just the right time.”

He put the bags on the counter.

“Have you tried one yet, Mark?”

“No.”

“Open wide.”

He did as Nadja asked, and she put the hors d'oeuvres into his mouth. And he was fairly sure that her thumb had brushed along his lip…

“These really are quite good.”

Damien picked one up and ate it.

“See? Quite good so says Rebecca.”

“Hors d'oeuvres and canapés aren’t Beef Wellington.”

Since Damien had gone through the hassle of setting up everything in the formal dining room, he began looking for serving bowls and dishes for the food.

“What’s this?” Rebecca took a drink of wine.

Mark stopped what he was doing. “Damien suggested we cook a meal tomorrow. I decided to make it a competition…Beef Wellington verses chicken cacciatore.”

Rebecca turned to look at Damien. “You are going to prepare Beef Wellington?”

“Oh, it’s all very easy, according to him. Did you know it has only two ingredients? Beef and wellington. Any luck having the ‘wellington’ delivered?” He felt a rush of pride as Rebecca had laughed at his joke.

“Please tell us that we get to be a part of this somehow.” Nadja leaned against the counter, a glass of the pinot noir in her hand.

“Actually, it was my idea for the pair of you to be the determiners of the competition, winner wise. I will also be the one in charge of ordering pizza if the food tanks.”

“Have more faith in yourself than that, Mark, and you can count us in.” Rebecca lifted her glass. She then turned to Damien. “And no cheating.”

“Me? Cheat? Never.”

“Uh huh.”  

The brought the dishes full of food to the dining room and dinner got under way…

“So, Mark. You must be excited to be starting Yale in a few months.” Nadja sat back with her glass of wine.

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t sound like a yes.”

“It’s a lot of…of well…a lot, so I’m worried about the workload. Worried about fitting in.”

“You’re smart. It is hard work, but I’ve seen you deal with school here. You’re organized, you are responsible, and whether you realize it, you generally keep a level head. Maintain those things, and I don’t see a problem. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you took on more work.

“As for fitting in…I’m going to assume you mean socializing with people and having friends, and not changing yourself to make you more palatable to others, because you don’t need to do that. Just be you and you’ll do just fine.”

He was stunned into silence for a moment. He was certain his own parents wouldn’t have been able to make those observations about him.

“Thank you.”

She gave him a smile that melted his insides.

“Just telling the truth.”

The meal was quite good, though as everything progressed, it became clear that three of the four people sitting at the table had a very definite idea of where the evening was heading, as Nadja and Rebecca began flirting with each other, kissing, while busy hands disappeared under the table.

“They are exquisite, aren’t they.”

“I’d agree with that.” He took a drink of the club soda and lime that he had been sticking to all night. He realized something and his head turned toward Damien, who was appreciatively watching the two women. “You’re eighteen. Like you just turned eighteen.”

“Very good. Next year I’ll be nineteen.”

“Rebecca is in her twenties .”

Twenty-two. She will be twenty-three next month“.”

“How long…”

“Since they came to work here.”

He sat back in his chair. “You were fourteen when they started here.” He took another drink, very much now wishing he was drinking alcohol; it would have made it easier to deal with the fact that Damien had been fucking these two women while he had finished playing Little League less than two years earlier.

“Ladies, how about we clean up?”

The three of them got up, and he joined them, and picked up the dishes and as Nadja walked past him, he couldn’t help but wonder what she was wearing under the dress…

In the kitchen, whatever was left over was thrown out, and all the dishes were rinsed and put in the dishwasher, and the washer started.

The two women were in the middle of the room and Nadja pulled Rebecca to her, nearly devouring her on the spot. Damien came behind Rebecca, and two pairs of hands disappeared under her dress, and the next thing Mark knew, Damien was working Rebecca's black panties down her thighs, to her calves, and then once they were off, into his pocket they went.

Mark watched him grab a bottle of wine off the counter.

“Well, I think I’m calling it a night. See you tomorrow, Mark.”

“Of course.”

“Oh. A warning? Your parents are not here, so there is no reason for me to have my bedroom door closed; if you want me, you know where to find me.”

“Night, Mark.”

Nadja blew him a kiss, and then all three of them left and he followed them out to the foyer and watched as they went up the stairs. There was a walkway that led to the other side of the house, and it looked out over the entrance of the house. Nadja must have said something because the next thing Mark knew, Damien had her by her wrists, and turned her toward the railing so that she was facing out. She put her arms up; he reached down, grabbed the hem of her dress and in one motion, it was over her head, and he had handed it to Rebecca.

Mark then had his answer. Not only was she not wearing a thong, but she also hadn’t been wearing a bra.

He had seen naked girls in magazines and movies, but none of it had prepared him for the gorgeousness of a naked Nadja.

He leaned her forward, her hands on the railing while Damien’s hands roamed her body. She spread her legs, and with one hand on her hip, he reached up between her legs, and even from where he stood, he could tell that his fingers were inside of her. Rebecca put her fingers on Nadja’s chin, and she turned and kissed Rebecca.

For a brief moment, it seemed that Damien was going to fuck her right then and there. But instead, he removed his hand from between her legs, led her across the walkway, and then the three of them disappeared.

He hadn’t been drinking, so he would have sworn that while Damien had been inside of her, Nadja had been looking right at him.

He went back and shut off the kitchen lights and made his way up the stairs and to his room. He should be turned on beyond the ability to think; he should be out of mind with lustful and wanton thoughts; he should be hard as a fucking rock.

He did believe in closing his bedroom door, and as he did, he heard Nadja groaning and moaning and uttering other sundry noises that indicated that she was enjoying herself immensely.

But he couldn’t help but be confused by everything that was going on.

Would you believe it if I told you that they are here because of me?  

“Yes. Yes, I would.”

He now also felt like an utter piece of shit for calling out Damien for supposedly “dating” below his station, and not because it turned out that Damien had, in fact, reached very high up, and he realized something as he heard a scrape at his bedroom door. He opened it and there was Carl, who trotted in and jumped up onto the bed like he owned the place.

“Come in.”

He closed the door and stripped to get into his pajamas. He was egalitarian. He always had been. He was always the first one to say something when he was out with friends, and they would hassle the waitstaff. It was also illogical to have accused Damien of being with women “beneath” him when neither his mother nor Ann had been anywhere near as wealthy as the Thorns, or Rebecca and Nadja were.

No. The realization was that he was jealous of the women, absolutely seething green with envy. Nearly out of his mind with it because they were with Damien right now doing things to him that Mark would have sold his soul to be doing to him.

He got into bed and Carl, seemingly sensing his off mood, wined and put his head against his arm.

“We both got dumped, huh?”

He chuffed and shuffled around until he seemingly found a position that was comfortable, and he felt the dog relax.

Mark should have his hand crazy glued to his cock right now, jerking off until he basically collapsed with utter exhaustion. Except…

It felt like he didn’t belong here in his own house. Like he was being pushed out of the place where he had lived for nineteen years, the entirety of his life. He suddenly felt an urge to call his parents and ask if it was okay to fly to Madrid to join them because this house, for right now, did not feel like his home.

But it had been a long day, and it was fucking ridiculous to feel as if he had been kicked out of his own house. He also had a party to execute, and he would make sure it came off without a goddamn hitch.

He rolled over, hiked the covers to his chin, and knew that it might be a while until whatever ate at him left him the fuck alone so he could sleep.

Chapter Text

Mark stood by the window and looked out across the front lawn. Today was the BBQ, and he knew that he should be far more pumped than he was given that, so far, everything had come off without a hitch. The back grounds were ready…lights, a sound system with a DJ, fridges filled with non-alcoholic drinks, and the pool would be used until ten whether the party end then or not. The cabanas had been filled with towels and spare bathing suits. Everything had been scheduled to go until one in the morning, and at that time, there would be a small fireworks display.

He did allow himself a small smile. While Damien had managed to put together an edible Beef Wellington, his chicken cacciatore and accompanying roasted vegetables had been phenomenal. He had paired the meal with the perfect wine and had after remembering what Rebecca had told him about having more faith in himself, and even made a chocolate cake with homemade frosting. With the exception of the cake, which he and Damien had demolished at breakfast this morning, there had been nothing left of his meal. And yes, he had gone online, found a blank certificate template and had filled it in to reflect his accomplishment. The crowning achievement had been making Damien put it up on the fridge.

However, yesterday had been mostly filled with the same events as the previous night. He had gone to Damien’s room to talk to him, which as it had turned out he had gone to Thorn, and he had heard Rebecca and Nadja having sex, the door to the room clearly open. He hadn’t gone and watched them, though he had been more than tempted to, but he had listened for a while, and unlike the previous night, he had eventually gone to his own room and jerked off until he thought he’d lose use of his arm.

But the weirder part had been Damien. Every time he turned around, there was his cousin, basically attempting to occupy the same bit of space with him, nearly standing on top of him. Or, on more than one occasion, Mark had reached for something…the remote, a glass, his phone, and had found Damien’s hand on top of his.

As he had begun preparing dinner, he had cut his finger when he had stupidly put his hand in the sink full of soapy dish water. He had paper towel over the injured digit when Damien had come in…

“What happened?”

“Cut myself.”

“Is it serious?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Let me see.”

Damien had carefully unwrapped the paper towel from around his finger and had look at it.

“Even if it were serious, I’m not going anywhere until our meals are over.”

“I admire the dedication.”

While Damien had retrieved the kitchen first-aid kit, he had stuck his finger under some running water to wash off the dried blood. His cousin had returned and unwrapped two Band-Aids. Mark dried off his finger and Damien had quickly applied them to the wound.

“However, if you had cut yourself deep enough to require stitches, we’d be at the ER right now. How’s it feel?”

“Still stings.”

He had been about to make a joke about the Band Aid being the prize in the chicken cacciatore, when he had watched Damien pick up the injured finger, held it to mouth, and kiss it.

“All better.”

His cousin had then vacated the kitchen, leaving him standing there not knowing what the fuck to make out of what had just happened…

He exhaled and turned from the window. He was already dressed…swim trunks and a T-shirt, though he would leave a pair of shorts and briefs downstairs to change into after the pool was no longer in use.

The party was supposed to start at five and it was three-thirty. He figured he and Damien could eat something since the food wasn’t supposed to be served until seven. There would be plenty to eat, but that was a lot of teenaged boys turning up, so there would be pizza for later for whoever stuck around for the fire works. He made his way across the house to Damien’s room, where he found the door slightly ajar.

“I hope you’re…”

But he stopped because Damien was buck fucking naked, in his bed, his cock in his hand, working it like he did it for a living. From his angle, he couldn’t see anything of his cousin’s prick because his laptop was in the way, but it was obvious that he was gratifying himself.

He stepped back out into the hall, shut the door and closed his eyes. It was only an hour and a half until the BBQ, so there was no time to discuss what the hell was going on, but the conversation was clearly going to have to happen soon before Mark lost his mind. Eventually, Damien was finished.

“Come in.”

He did as he was asked.

“Hey and you’re still naked.”

“Rebecca and Nadja filmed themselves yesterday, and well, one thing led to another. Yes, I am. I don’t think I have anything that you haven’t seen before.”

“I thought we could eat before it all starts. I didn’t eat lunch.”

He watched as Damien did what he had done, which was throw on a T-shirt and trunks and grabbed briefs and shorts for later.

Downstairs, they made sandwiches, grabbed drinks, and sat at the kitchen table.

“I saw the email list for the guests who will shortly be arriving.”

“Okay…”

“So, I know it’s Amanda that you invited.”

“Surprise.”

“What are your intentions with her?”

He shook his head. “No intentions. I like her; I enjoy talking to her.”

“She’s your date.”

“Not really, though I’m not not interested in her.”

“Is the intent then to make her your girlfriend?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Huh.”

His cousin ate, but he knew Damien long enough to know when he was being diplomatic, which was seldom to almost never.

“Spit it out. You can say anything.”

“When one doubts one’s abilities, one…”

“For fuck’s sake, stop saying one.”

“You doubt yourself, Mark. All day, everyday. You have zero faith in your abilities, when there is evidence to the contrary that you can do better. You showed what you can do by winning the cooking bet we had, and I tried my best. You went above what was agreed on and it showed. Rebecca didn’t want to say anything, but chicken cacciatore happens to be one of her favourite dishes and she was genuinely impressed by your efforts.

“You invited Amanda tonight because she’s safe. She interns at Thorn, so she is going to be careful about overstepping and making more out of the invite than what it is…unless you already laid out the plan and let her know that in no uncertain terms that her presence tonight was purely platonic, which I can tell by the look on your face is precisely what you did.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“And that’s fine. You maybe want practice talking to women where nothing is expected to happen? Okay. That’s your choice and I respect that.”

“I sense a but.”

“You’re the Mona Lisa, Mark…the Crown Jewels…a Stradivarius…a bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild, yet you price yourself like you’re an item in the quick sale bin at the grocery store. While I have heard you literally apologize for your presence, you much more apologize for, well, you by the choices you make, and you of all people don’t have to do that.”

He sat there not knowing what to say.

“Get what you want out of tonight, but know that you can do much, much better. Okay, enough of this serious bullshit.” Damien lifted his can of Coke, “Here’s to making tonight’s party a brilliant success.”

“I’ll drink to that.” He hit his can of cola with Damien’s and took a drink.

After they finished eating, they took a final tour to make sure that everything was copacetic and that the people who had been hired to cook knew what was expected of them. There was no one who would be serving, so everyone would help themselves to sides and drinks to go with their burgers, ribs, and chicken.

He and Damien would be supervising the drinking, there was a limit of three drinks per person, so it wasn’t like he could just kick back and relax which was fine, and as he took it all in, he let himself feel proud and smiled. Rebecca had helped, but most of this had been him. He felt a sense of responsibility and would make sure that everyone had a good time. He would also get as much as he wanted out of his time with Amanda, even if it was just getting comfortable talking to her.

He walked to one of the fridges, grabbed a Canada Dry, opened it, and took a drink. There really was nothing left to do now until people started showing up…

…666…

“Are you sure you don’t want another?” Mark pointed down to Amanda’s beer.

“The limit is three drinks per person.”

He laughed. “Apart from the guys at the BBQ, you’re the only official adult here, so that doesn’t apply to you.”

“It’s okay.”

“How about more food?” He started to get up from his chair.

“Mark, I’m good. It looks like Damien is having fun playing gestapo and keeping an eye on things. Sit. Relax. Enjoy.”

He lowered his shoulders and exhaled.  

“You were saying about school…” she took a drink of her glass of beer.

“I’m not sure what I want to study.”

“Do I dare ask the question?”

Mark frowned. “Which question is that?”

“What your plans are in regard to working at Thorn.”

“Ah. Didn't realize it was the ‘question.’”

“People are curious. You’re nineteen and depending on how long you’re at school, that’s four years and then you’re back.”

“I have no intention of running the company; I told my father that many times. I’m his son, so he’d prefer it go to me, but…”

He looked over at Damien, who while he was making sure things ran smoothly, had also amassed a small crowd of mainly women who were hanging on his every word and flirting with him so violently, it was surprising that the batting of eyelashes wasn’t causing a hurricane.

“I think most suspect that. You manage people quite well. Ever thought of human resources? You can follow Damien into Yale’s business program. Get your MBA.”

“I never thought of myself as being good at managing people.”

“Huh. What would you say that you’re good at?”

“I’m okay at finding information.” He sat back and took a drink of his own beer. “I assumed I’d do something with history.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Mark Thorn, but you are very good at both managing people and finding information.”

She looked over at Damien and then turned back to him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Does Damien ever make you feel bad about yourself? And it’s just a question; I’m not accusing anyone of anything.”

“No. Why?”

She shrugged. “You seem to doubt yourself. A lot. I was wondering if Mr. Fantastic over there has anything to do with that

He vehemently shook his head. “If anything, he’s always told me that I undersell myself.”

“He’d be right.”

“Tonight…I asked you to come because…we talk at work, we get along…”

“Was this supposed to be a date?”

“I would have liked it to be, but…” he shrugged.

“What stopped you?”

“I think I assume once someone gets within ten feet of Damien, anyone else is chopped liver.”

“You’d be wrong about that. Are most people attracted to him? You bet. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that they actually want to be part of his circle. In the dictionary, under the term high maintenance, it says, ‘see Damien Thorn,’ but that’s not my thing.”

Mark laughed. “Oh, he’s the high maintenance king, alright.”

“You’re a great guy. Most women see that. Not to mention very attractive and hot. You should hear what gets said about you when you leave a room. It would make you blush.” She winked at him.

He could feel himself get warm and his cheeks flush.

“Under different circumstances, I’d have been more than happy for this to have been a date and to take things further.”

He thankfully hadn’t been drinking at the time because he was certain that he would have choked to death on a mouthful of beer.

“Oh? And what circumstances would those be?” He tried not to let himself sound hopeful, but he was certain he had failed.

“You’re serious about making sure no one overdoes when it comes to the drinking and keeping an eye on everyone. I’d prefer to not drag you from that. Though, to be honest, I’m actually kind of surprised Damien is taking it as seriously as he is…not to mention, there’s me being an intern at your company. Mostly? You seem to think you deserve some kind of pity fuck, and you don’t. Anyone here would be more than lucky to have you, and know, I’m not just saying that because I’m trying to score points when it comes to Thorn.”

“I appreciate that and thank you.”

“I could do with a burger and some salad.”

“I’m in.” He got up and offered his arm to her and she took it.

…666…

To say that the night had gone well was an understatement. Everyone stayed until one and had applauded the fireworks. In fact, people milled around, not wanting to leave, but eventually, cabs were called, or friends were contacted so they could come and pick up their people.

Mark had spent most of his time with Amanda, but had left her, though she had found someone to talk to, so he didn't feel too badly about leaving her, to mingle with his friends, all of whom congratulated him on the party.

He escorted her through the house to the foyer when she had asked to use the powder room. Damien was still outside getting contact info from people.

“Well, he did say he could win friends and influence people wherever he went, so…” he muttered to himself as he waited for Amanda to finish up, which she did.

“You called someone?”

“A cab. It’s on its way.”

“I know it was maybe not the kind of party…”

“See? There you go underselling yourself…”

“Funny, that’s what I told him. Amanda.”

“Damien. Kudos on the party. I do believe a good time was had by all.”

“It was pretty much all Mark, so the congrats go to him, though I do believe he was going to apologize for it being full of hormonal teenagers.”

“Mark, I’m twenty-one, not forty. It was great and I enjoyed myself. Do you have your phone?”

“Hang on.”

He ran off to the kitchen and came back with it and gave it to her since she held out her hand to him.

“I’m going to put my contact info in here, Mark. You are only allowed to contact me once you realize that you have so much to offer and do not need a pity fuck.”

“I’ll take getting directly to the point for one hundred, Alex,” Damien chimed in.

“It was a wonderful party. You should be proud of yourself for all of it. I’m glad you asked me, and I hope you’ll be around the office…”

“I should be.”

Her phone buzzed.

“That’s my cab. Good night, Mark.” She kissed his cheek. “You call me when you know you deserve more than that.”

“Good night, Amanda.” He held the front door open for her

“Night, Damien.”

“Safe home.”

She had given each of them a nod and then made her way to her cab, got in and moments later, she was gone.

“And that as they say is that. How do you feel?”

“Pretty good. I say we toast our victory.” He looked over as this cousin.

Damien led the way to the kitchen and to the fridge where he grabbed two bottles of beer. He grabbed one for each of them, opened them and handed one to him.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Mark lifted his bottle and drank.

From the kitchen window, the trucks to clean up the BBQ and remove the lights and sound system had arrived and an hour later, it was if nothing had happened.

Damien yawned.

“Well, I’m off to bed. Day after next, I’m going to head into the office.”

“I’ll come with.”

“I’ll call that a plan. What are you doing?”

“Head into the kitchen and gloat?”

“You deserve it.”

He turned to leave when…

“Mark?”

When he turned around, Damien was inches away from him, nearly standing on top of him...again.

“Yes?”

“I never finished watching the video that Rebecca and Nadja sent. You’re more than welcome to join me.”

Amanda could have offered to fuck him in the pool in front of absolutely everyone, and it would have been less strange than what his cousin had just suggested.

“I think I’m good.”

“Suit yourself.”

With that, Damien made his way up the stairs, headed to his room, and was gone.

Mark changed his mind about going out to the kitchen and went out to the pool and lay back in the one of the loungers.

Maybe he could talk to Damien tomorrow about what was going on, but for now…he smiled. The party had been a magnificent success and Amanda was interested in him.

“Not a bad way for a day to end if I do say so myself.”

He crossed his arms behind his head and let the day come to a close.

…666…  

He had spent the morning in the city. His parents had called, and they had spoken to both him and Damien to not only ask how things were going, but to inform them that they had ran into some friends and would be spending another week abroad. They had left the contact info for the house in Spain and after Mark and his parents had exchanged the usual protestations of love, he had hung up and had driven himself into the city to do some shopping.

He was in the kitchen putting the food in the fridge. He had liked cooking and was now going to attempt the impossible and make his own Beef Wellington. He had just unpacked everything when his phone buzzed with a text; it was Damien.

Where are you?

Kitchen. Why?

Come up to my room. Come at once if convenient; if inconvenient come all the same.

On my way.  

He wondered if now would be a good time to have a talk, though they were going to the office tomorrow and perhaps Damien had wanted to see him about that. The door was closed, and when he opened it was like he had opened the door that led to a porn set.

Damien stood beside the bed so that he was facing out toward the door. On all fours, on the bed, legs spread open wide was Nadja getting fucked like her life depended on it. Damien held her at her hips, and whether she knew Mark was standing there watching, he had no idea. Every thought he had was slipping away and all there was was the sound of skin on skin, Damien’s heavy breathing and Nadja’s grunting as she held onto the bed as if it was the only thing stopping her from flying off.

But his cousin knew he was there. He gave him a sly smirk and he went back to concentrating on Nadja.

“I sent the text. You’re a hard nut to crack, Mark Thorn.”

Rebecca sat on the chair, her legs splayed over its sides, her right hand between her legs fucking herself as she watched the pair on the bed; her left hand languidly resting above her head and over the top of the chair. But as Mark listened, he knew it wasn’t her hand but a vibrator that she was using to do the deed as it were.

“A lesser man would have broken when Damien bent the lovely Nadja over the railing and nearly fisted her right then and there. Give me a minute.”

She had slipped the vibrator inside of herself, and moved her feet, planting them firmly on the floor, and thrust up her hips as if she were fucking someone; yet as urgent as her actions were, she was seemingly holding back, preventing herself from coming just yet, enjoying the absolute pleasure she was deriving from what she was doing.

She grasped the back of the chair, turning her knuckles white, her legs shook with her efforts and her breath came in laboured fits.

Seemingly ready to be done, her hips shot up and she cried out, her orgasm making her body shudder with her release, and she held it, getting every ounce of delight she could before she relaxed and slowly lowered herself.

She stretched luxuriously and through half-closed eyes, she watched him as she removed the vibrator, licked it clean and left it on the chair, which was covered with a towel.

She got up and came towards him. Even without seeing between her legs, he could tell her thighs were slick with her own wetness.

“You are a delicious piece of candy. Do you know that? The things I would absolutely love to do to you. I’d love to bend you over railing and fist you. Would you like that?”

She had reached out and ran a red, daggered nail across his lips; her scent and wetness now on him.

“However, we aren’t allowed to interfere with you until Damien has you first, and since all this started, Nadja has called dibs on you. So, I guess that means I wait. Magnificent, aren’t they?”

She was behind him, her arms around his waist, her chin on his shoulder and he could feel her warm breath at his neck, and for a moment he truly thought that she was about to sink fangs into him, as if she were a vampire, and Mark Thorn would not have cared in the least.

Nadja had come, but Damien locked eyes with him and whatever blood he still had in his brain allowed his mind to function and he realized that he hadn’t been losing his mind; Damien had been seducing him since the very moment his parents had left the house.

No. Before then…

Damien had heard him. Some how, some way, that night that he had jerked off in bed thinking about his cousin, he had been outside his bedroom door listening. The conversation in this room the next morning…

And there stood Damien, stripping him naked where he stood; eating him alive with his eyes; burning himself into his soul.

He watched as Damien drove himself in Nadja with the ferocity of a demon and Rebecca and had gone over to the bed, put her hand between her girlfriend’s legs and helped her come, but it was Damien’s orgasm which Mark could not ignore, as he threw his head back and uttered a guttural howl and came.

“Damien…”

Nadja sat up, sighed and leaned into him.

“That’s my name, and feel free to wear it out.”

He kissed her neck.

“I want to taste you; I want to taste…”

“Careful what you ask for, carida, we have a visitor.”

She took notice of him now.

“Mark…”

He had never had anyone purr his name before, and if it were possible for her to have slithered off the bed and come gliding over to him as if her feet never touched the floor, then that’s what she did.

“He’s mine first remember, so let’s keep our hands to ourself.”

“Pretty Mark Thorn. The things I’ve done to myself while I’ve thought about you. At the dinner party, I wanted you to take me. To fuck me right on the table. I was so wet talking to you. I could have just devoured you on the spot.”

A nail equally as sharp and deadly as Rebecca’s traced down his nose, landing on his lips with a soft tap. Her nails were black, glossy, and he watched as it traced along his mouth. He could have drowned in the blackness and been the happier for it.

“Damien gets you first. Today, yes?” She eagerly looked back, little able to hide her enthusiasm.

“No.”

She pouted. “But I want him. Now.”

“You want everything now, little one.”

Nadja allowed herself to be swept up in Rebecca’s arms. She had her back to Rebecca’s front, and she grasped Nadja’s tits, running her thumbs over her nipples.

“Watching doesn’t count, does it? He can watch Rebecca fuck me while I tell him all the wicked things I want us to do to each other…”

“For right now, watching counts.”

Damien came over and had two robes, both of which he handed to the women.

“I need alone time with my cousin.”

“I’ll see you later, Mark.”

Rebecca gave him a nod of her head, business like as she had been when they had first talked in the kitchen what seemed like ages ago.

“She’s going to fuck me, dearest Mark, and I am going to be thinking of you with every single thrust.”

She blew him a kiss while Damien shut the door as they left.

“You came. Are you aware of that?”

He looked down; he hadn’t even realized that he had gotten hard.

“I…”

“Not that I blame you, and is it turns out, Nadja has quite the thing for you, apparently. She’s sort of been keeping it on the QT and once all this started, she came clean. So to speak.”

“You were there. Outside my door when I…”

There was a pause.

“You have to say it. No more hiding.”

“When I was jerking off.”

“Do you mean when you were slowly stroking your cock, sliding that hand of yours up and down your shaft, hoping and praying that I’d come and finish you off?”

“Yes.”

“She’s right. You are a hard nut to crack. Last night I literally invited you to my room to fuck, but you refused me, and we both know how much I hate being turned down.”

He looked away.

“Here’s where two roads diverge in a yellow wood. You can walk away, and we wait another day…have a discussion…debate what’s going on and since Richard and Ann are extending their vacation by a week, that gives us more time to…talk.

“Or you and I get to it, and we enjoy ourselves…not to mention you don’t leave poor Nadja waiting to have her cunt eaten like she’s the tastiest piece of cake in the shop, which in case you were wondering, she is.

“So, what’s it going to be, Mark? Are you in or out?”

Chapter Text

Damien watched as whatever was going on in Mark’s head played out on his face. His hesitation was a palpable thing, and he was close to saying something else to spur on his cousin; but what else was there that was more convincing than what Mark had walked in on?

“Fuck it.”

The words were no more out of Mark’s mouth, when the next thing he knew his face was in Mark’s hands, and he was being pulled forward. Then the thing he had been waiting for since he was fourteen: his cousin’s lips on his and Damien Thorn, Antichrist, the Beast foretold in the Book of Revelation, the Son of Satan, and someone who had indeed nearly fucked his way through the state of Illinois, felt what he had heard described on a multitude of occasions as butterflies in the pit of one’s stomach. He had to make a conscious effort to plant his feet firmly on the carpet because he felt his knees buckle.

Mark’s left arm was around his waist, the right, on his upper back, drawing him closer, and he sank into the kiss and for now, let everything disappear that wasn’t his cousin’s mouth on his. He slipped his arms around Mark’s waist and the pair of them were pressed so tightly together it was as if they were one. It was he to pull away first, and he gently bit Mark’s bottom lip; he looked up.

“Was it okay?”

“If you’ve kissed a lot of girls like that, I have no idea why you aren’t taken. I mean, I’m glad you’re not, but…and it’s a good thing that when I make a plan it takes literal divine intervention to change my mind, because I am tempted to throw you onto the bed and fuck you right here and now.”

“There are plans?”

Damien could feel a wicked grin grow across his mouth. “So many plans…”

“I wasn’t sure about the kissing, and I've never kissed any girl like that. Not with mouths open. It was mostly a closed mouth kiss. I’m sure you…”

“No.”

“No what?”

Damien shrugged. “I’ve never romantically kissed anyone. You’re my first time.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Why is that so hard for you to believe that?”

“I just assumed. I mean Rebecca and Nadja…”

“I fuck them senseless, but no kissing on the mouth. Not ever. That was the understanding between all three of us and everyone else. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to have you but, just in case…”

“I’ve been in love with you since I was fourteen.”

Damien smiled at him. “Same. I even know the precise moment, but again divine intervention has not happened, so that is a story that will wait for another day.”

“I got to pop Damien Thorn’s kissing cherry.”

“How was it?”

“Manly.”

He laughed. “I aim for manly, so I’m glad I hit the bullseye.”

While he couldn’t tell what Mark was feeling, he had known his cousin well enough to know when something was off and was suddenly worried that Mark had changed his mind about what was going on.

“I am very stupid.”

“Why?” He got his Paisley robe and put it on while Mark was talking.

“Why. What do you mean why? You’ve basically been throwing yourself at me since before my parents left, and I’ve been too dense to pick up on it.”

“You are anything but dense, so it isn’t that. I think it’s seemingly being given what you’ve always wanted and not trusting it…or yourself, and now we come to part of the plans.”

“Okay…”

“I wasn’t joking the other day when I said that you are priceless, Mark Thorn. Our time together will be spent making you understand that. I will help you burnish yourself, because I don’t intend to do the work for you, until you outshine even me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Okay, so then you shine as brightly as I do. You invited Amanda to the party, so I am assuming that you like women.”

“Yes.”

“Men?”

“Just you. Have you…”

“I’ve been on the receiving end of oral sex and hand jobs. For pleasure.” He smirked. “And for other reasons.”

“What other reasons?”

“Do you really think that after Teddy Spencer had laid a hand on you that I just let that go? He’s lucky Neff showed up when he did; I would have made him suck my cock in front of everyone.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. On his knees, my prick in his mouth. Moving on.” Damien went to his desk, grabbed his notebooks, the ones he had used to make notes about Mark. “We’re going on a field trip, but first.” He brought his cousin to his bedroom door. “I want you to look at my room. Don’t say anything, just look. Take in what you want, and you tell me when you are done.”

They stood there until seemingly, Mark got what he wanted to get out of the task, and then he turned to him.

“Okay.”

Together they made their way across the house until they reached Mark’s bedroom.

“One of the reasons that I was so scarce during the night of the dinner party was that I was making notes about you.”

“Do I even wanna know?”

“You will know and before I went downstairs, this was my first stop. I want you to look at your room. Don’t judge; don’t react. Just look…and listen.”

Damien opened the door; he didn’t have to be empathetic to sense Mark’s unease.

“Baseball pennants on the walls; Little League trophies on your dresser. A singular dresser. As in one dresser with much of what you own crammed in there like you are a poor college student who can’t afford better or more. Your room is huge, and yet you have a double bed. I believe the last time I looked through the linen closet I saw a set of Chicago White Sox sheets with matching pillowcases.”

He moved to the closet. “You have two suits, both of which fit you like they at one point belonged to your father. You have no clothing that isn’t tailored to you. I don’t have a lot of suits because it doesn’t make sense when I’m still growing, but I have more than two.

“Everything, and I mean everything that has Davidson Military Academy on it is gone; you’re my bitch now.

“At one point you were twelve; your room never grew up when you did. We will be living together when we go to Yale. Our house will reflect the tastes of adults, not twelve-year-olds.”

There was a mortified expression on Mark’s face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did. Just now. Hey.”

Mark looked at him.

“I fell in love with the boy whose room this once was, so don’t feel so bad. I was like this once, too. There’s no point remodelling one of the other rooms, there’s no time, but your room will get a makeover. I told you that I will help you make yourself better; this will be accomplished in continuous lessons.”

“Damien Thorn’s school of Debauchery for Young Men?”

“Oh, you bet your fucking ass it is, and you, you lucky boy, are the star pupil, not to mention only pupil. Get through all the lessons and pass the final exam, which has yet to be determined, and win every fucking thing you ever wanted in life. Not to mention that the quicker you pass, or even forgo the lessons, the faster we move on to the rewards.

“Is there a lesson now?”

Mark was standing inches away from him.

“There was a lesson already given. An “F” so far in paying attention.”

Damien took him by the shoulders and turned him so that once again, he was facing into his room.

“The more hints I must drop, the slower we go. The change to your room? That’s your responsibility. We have interior designers at Thorn; put them to work. I will also not accept you merely duplicating what I’ve done to my room. Your new digs had better reflect you; if it doesn’t…Also, redoing your room will in no way, shape or form interfere with my plans for us.”

“My professor is a task master.”

“Yes, he is. Let’s go.”

Back in his room, he led Mark to the mirror and left him there. He went the wardrobe that didn’t hold clothing and returned with a riding crop. He tried as best he could to gage the interest Mark had in the item, though for right now, it was more for effect than anything else, but his cousin wore a confused expression on his face, and as Damien had suspected, the BDSM pictures that he had on his computer were purely for aesthetic reasons.

He moved the armchair so that it was beside the mirror, and he was facing Mark’s front. He sat and adjusted himself so that his legs hung over the left side of the chair. He let left hand slide down the length of the riding crop.

“So. I would like you, Mark Thorn, to look in the mirror and tell me what you see.”

“I’m not sure if I get what you’re asking for.”

“I want more than a bare bones description of what you look like and who you are.”

“I’m blonde…”

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

“I have brown eyes…”

“Yes, I can see. It’s not a trick question, and so long as you give me something that you see in yourself, there is no wrong answer. I’m asking you to describe you. It should be the easiest question in the world to answer.”

“I have…”

“Stop. Let’s try this. If it’s easier for you to not focus on the physical, then do that.”

“I’m kind; I’m generous; I’m…”

The crack of the riding crop hit against the table echoed through the room; it had made Mark flinch.

“I think I’m going to start carrying this around all the time. When you waste my time, and more importantly yours, I’m going to make you hold out your hand and I’m going to smack you with it.”

He went and stood behind Mark.

“The very first lesson was given the morning after I heard you. Remember? Confidence is sexy. Knowing what you want is sexy. Going after what you want is sexy. I repeated this lesson when I left you in the kitchen after the family dinner party, where I told you to keep up not telling me what you were up to because it was you being assertive, and it was very attractive. Do you want to see what I see?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s start with what isn’t making my prick twitch right now. Do you know why Paul Buher, Vice-President of Thorn Industries, puts you in charge of staff meetings that are one level above your position?  And do not tell me it is because of Richard is your father.”

“Because I’m good with people.”

Damien let out an exasperated sigh. “You make people leave their egos at the door. You get people to talk to one another. You make sure everyone is listened to and no idea is far-fetched, or stupid. You make people comfortable enough to express themselves and say what is on their mind, and while you may do it because you value people, at the end of the day your philosophy is: this is my family’s company. You will not fuck around and waste my time or my father’s time.”

“Next. You have such an easy time finding things because, and I hate this fucking phrase, you really do think outside the box. You have little to no ego. You open yourself to whatever muse or feeling that moves you to look anywhere and everywhere to find what it is you want. I can’t do that. I may manage people okay, but I can’t do what you do when it comes to finding things and that fascinates me because there is so little that I can’t do. Now, the important part.”

He reached down and grabbed the bottom of Mark’s T-shirt and thankfully Mark was either so overwhelmed by this point, or receptive enough to raise his arms without an argument; he pulled the shirt off and tossed it onto the floor.

“Yes, you have blond hair. Hair that is the colour of sand, and it makes me think of a perfect day at the beach where there is no care in the world apart from the cold beer and food that you brought and the company you are with. And once the summer hits, like now, your hair gets lighter, and parts of it turn gold, and you look like a fucking god.

“Your eyes, Mark, are dark amber, but when the lights hit them, they turn the colour of honey and I just want to drown in them and never leave.”

He unbuttoned and unzipped Mark’s shorts; they fell and pooled at his feet.

“Your body…do know how built you are? How unbelievably fuckable you looked in that Speedo? I could have devoured you on the spot at the pool that day. We both can play rugby at Yale, and when we win, we get to have a special victory celebration back at our place.”

Mark didn’t have a six-pack, but his abs were still visible, and Damien’s fingertips softly and slowly played over muscle, teasing his way down to the band of Mark’s briefs.

“Damien…”

Mark had leaned into him, making him bear most of the weight. He wanted his cousin to reach up and grasp his hair, but…all in due time…

He smirked. “That’s my name and feel free to wear it out.”

He hooked his fingers into the top of Mark’s briefs and pulled them down in one go, still standing behind Mark, still watching him in the mirror.

“Nice cock, Mark. Nice everything.”

He moved his hand slowly up Mark’s chest, while he reached out and tugged an earlobe with his teeth and was met with a groan.

“That is nothing. The pleasure that awaits you, if you chose to take it, is beyond the dreams of avarice.”

He gave one of Mark’s nipples a hard pinch and soon, both of his hands rested just above the patch of dark blond hair above the apex of his thighs.

“Someone’s a little sticky from earlier.”

He took Mark’s hand and led him to the bed.

“Sit in the middle.”

Mark did as he was told, and Damien took the same standing mirror that he was just using and moved it to the end of the bed.

“Perfect.”

He turned and faced Mark and slowly pulled one end of the belt that cinched his robe, allowing the dressing gown to open, and then slipped out of it and let it fall on the floor.

“I would not be disappointed if you fucked me right now.”

“All in good time.”

Damien came to the bed and sat with his back against the headboard of the bed. He spread his legs. “Sit with your back against my chest.”

Once again, his cousin obeyed. He put his head on Mark’s shoulder and admired their reflection in the mirror.

“It should be against the law to be this perfect.” He kissed Mark’s right shoulder. “We will accomplish a few things right now. First, conversation. Do you know why I prefer having sex with women?”

“No.”

“Wrong answer. A conversation requires two individuals. You will relax. Your shoulders look like they are about to become permanently part of your ears.”

There was silence on Mark’s end, and he drew in some breaths and forced his shoulders down.

“Because there is something you get out of the experience with women that you don’t get with men.”

“Very good. What do you think I get from women that I don’t get from men?”

“The process of lovemaking?”

He ran his hands through Mark’s hair and kissed the back of his neck.

“Nicely done. Most women, at heart, are sensualists, and not just about sex. The enjoyment of a good meal, a delicious dessert, dancing to whatever moves them to dance, silk sheets, luxurious bubble baths, and yes, fore play. They are in touch with their bodies because their bodies do so much more than ours do for us.

“Most women, however, have been conditioned by religion and society that their bodies are bad; that sex is bad. Women have been burned at the stake for embracing their wants and needs.”

“Rebecca and Nadja.”

“Are unrepentant in their desires, lusts, and loves, and I will have them no other way. There are times when I want a quick fuck and that’s it, but that’s not most times. So here we are. I have you where I’ve wanted you for four years, and here’s the next lesson, and that is you will wait to come until I tell you to come. I will accept…effort in you preventing yourself from having an orgasm just this once; I will expect more from you next time. So, if you have to count, grasp sheets, beg me to let you come, go for it…for this time only. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know Nadja had a thing for you?”

“Only because you and Rebecca told me.”

“Though once again, I get you first.”

Damien pressed his lips against his carotid artery and could feel life pumping away; he could almost taste what was underneath and inside.

“Have you thought about what you like, Mark?”

“No.”

“You understand what I mean.”

“About sex.”

“Do you like it rough?” He opened his mouth, allowing his teeth now to press against Mark’s skin and he bit down as hard as he dared.

“Ow.”

“And I don’t need an answer right now, but I most definitely want you to give it your full attention. Or how about this?”

His right hand moved across Mark’s stomach, reached up, and then he pinched his nipples harder than he had before; Mark winced.

“Or this.”

He reached over to the night table on his right and retrieved the riding crop and pulled back his right arm and let it land with a light crack.

“Stings.”

“There are other things, but I’m far too relaxed and comfortable to move to go get them. And we can explore anything you like, and it’s important that you know that there is literally nothing barred from being a topic of discussion.”

“I can fuck Nadja and Rebecca?”

Damien laughed as his hands played over Mark’s chest. “I don’t know; can you? They are keen to fuck you and they aren’t shy about performing in front of others. I’d like nothing more than to watch you bed Nadja. Watch her ride you like the demon she is…but I ride you first.”

“I want you to…to ride me…to fuck me.”

“You get to fuck me, too. You inside of me…there aren’t words to describe how much I am looking forward to that.”

He bit Mark’s left shoulder, and suddenly felt something he was surprised, but glad to feel; Mark’s hands on his legs which were on top of Mark’s.

“Yes. Feel me. Revel in how I feel. How my skin…tastes in your hands.”

Mark continued what he was doing, moving his hands up as far up as he physically could.

“You’re getting hard. I like that. I like it more knowing that you are getting hard enjoying my body.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Why?”

“It’s like having wings and standing on the edge of a building. Part of you knows you have wings and can fly, but the other logical part says you can’t fly; do it and you will die. I wanna jump, Damien. I want to jump and be free, but I’m afraid that this is somehow not real, or I will disappoint you in some way and you’ll tell me to fuck off.”

“It most definitely is real, and you can’t disappoint me. I am pushing you because I know you have it in you to be more and do more because you do things all the time…”

“What you said about me being good with people and finding things is what Amanda said.”

“She sees you regularly. She’s a very pragmatic and sensible person, and she calls it like she sees it. You are so hard, right now, Mark. I think I’d like to do something about that.” He cupped his right hand and held it out in front of Mark’s face. “Spit.”

But before he did as he was told, Mark grasped his hand and kissed it.

“Divine intervention…” he leaned forward and spit and firmly placed his hand on Mark’s prick and began slowly stroking, even movements with a solid grasp. “Remember not until I tell you. You will learn to master your prick, especially if you want to learn how to please Rebecca and Nadja.”

“Fuck!”

“You bet. All day, every day. So, we were fucking, Nadja and I, and it was just the two of us. My cock buried inside of her, her on top, riding me like the whore she is, when she asks me about you. What kind of women you like, what kind of lover you were. This was after the conversation we had when you let it slip that you were…untasted, though no, I have told neither of them about you being a virgin.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Anyway, I said I wasn’t sure, about any of it, but I have known her long enough to know when Nadja has something on her mind, and that’s when she told me that’s she’s had a thing for you for quite some time, she’s kept it close to the chest apparently. She didn’t even tell Rebecca, which is saying something.

“When I asked her what she like about you…you’re thoughtful, kind, sweet, but also no nonsense when it comes to certain things, like your family, which I believe is what I said about you. But as she rode me, she said you were hot, but you didn’t know you were hot, which is the truth. It seems the other day wasn’t the only day you had on your Speedo. She watched you at the pool one day, her hand right hand disappearing down her shorts, putting just the perfect amount of pressure on that delicate little pearl of hers until she got nice and wet and fucked herself as you were simply being you. Her left hand up her top, grasping at her breast, tugging at her nipple, wishing you were the one doing it to her…”

“Damien…please.”

“She came thinking about you riding her at the pool. Something else she and I have in common. I do so look forward to watching you get fucked by the pair of them at the same time. But thinking of you and I alone…Mark…” his voice was a harsh whisper by his cousin’s ear. “My cock buried inside of you. You digging your nails into my back…your legs wrapped around me like I’m the last fucking life raft leaving the Titanic. Your ragged breath in my ear as you come. Delicious.”

“Please…”

“I love you. Those are words that I haven’t said to anyone but you for a very long time, but I love you. I will help you find yourself, Mark. To be more than you ever thought possible.”

Up and down his hand went, slightly changing his rhythm, enjoying watching Mark being totally enraptured by the experience. This was one of the best days of his life, and part of him just wanted to keeping jerking him off because it felt so good to have Mark right where he wanted him. He kissed the back of his head and stroked faster.

“You may after you answer me this: what are you?”

“I’m a God.”

“And don’t you ever forget.”

“Damien!”

He could feel warmth in his hand as Mark came and a realization that this whole time, his cousin had been grasping his fingers into his thighs.

“Open your mouth and close your eyes.”

He smeared his hand across Mark’s mouth.

“Lick. Taste. This is a house of swallowers, Mark, but I’m not going to force you.

He took his cousin’s hand and licked off whatever was left and suddenly Mark began laughing.

“A house of swallowers, huh?”

“Waste not; want not. Come on.”

In the bathroom, he turned on his shower, first making sure that the water was cool enough for Mark to use some of the very expensive, hand-made body wash to get rid of the ejaculate in his hair.

“Uhm…I don’t know how hot you like your shower. I like ‘em fairly toasty, so…”

“Let’s see.”

He watched as Mark set the temperature so the water would eventually reach 102 degrees. Steam immediately began to billow in the large shower enclosure.

“A man after my own heart, and Rebecca will love you.”

“Really?”

“Nadja likes her showers like they’re about to outlaw cold water.”

Inside the enclosure, he leaned against the cool tile and pulled Mark to him, holding him close.

“Do you like kissing?” His thumb traced along Mark’s bottom lip.

“Are there people who don’t?”

“Yes. Rebecca…she enjoys it, but it’s not her life; Nadja…she’d make out all day if she could.”

“And you?”

“I like kissing just fine.”

Mark’s mouth was suddenly on his, and that feeling of butterflies in his stomach once again overtook him. He never would have guessed that he would enjoy it this much. Mark kissed his way down to his shoulder and began sucking on the flesh there.

“Mmm, Mark. Go for it. Bit harder if you want.”

The sensation of his skin being roughly pulled and sucked…he could feel his prick twitch. There was plenty he had never been on the receiving end of and the thought that he and Mark would be experimenting to their hearts’ content made him quiver.

“Damn…maybe you were a vampire in another life.”

Mark moved his head so that he was looking at him.

“A house full of swallowers?”

“You bet.”

He was shoved harder against the tile. Not hard enough to hurt him, but so that he received the message which was…you are mine. Mark’s mouth was on his…kissing, pulling his lower lip…hard enough for him to suck in some air at the pain.

His hands were in Mark’s wet hair, but his cousin reached up, grabbed them, and pulled them so that his arms were by his side and slowly, Mark began kissing down.

“Hang on.”

He moved them so that once Mark was on his knees, he wouldn’t be drowned in the gallons of water pouring from the shower head. They were against the back of the shower, and he kept going…kissing across his chest…taking a nipple in his mouth…sucking and biting.

“Mark…”

He was on his knees, and he focused on his abs…sliding his tongue over the well-defined muscles. Mark’s hands reached around and grabbed his ass, pulling so that his face would be buried in his dark pubic hair.

He looked down. There weren’t words…those blond locks dark with the water that had poured onto him…he wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about having Mark on his knees. As far as Damien was concerned, they were equals. Maybe, once Damien returned the favour, it would be different.

He would do his best not to micromanage and let Mark do his thing, but for now…he was hard, and he had given a lecture to Mark about mastering his prick…Damien was in danger of coming well before he wanted to. There were lips on the skin beneath his hair as Mark kissed him.

I am being tested…

He was suddenly inside Mark’s mouth and watched as his head moved back and forth. He smiled.

“The only tip I’ll give: cover your teeth.”

It took him a minute to adjust, and once he did, Damien moaned and leaned his head against the tile, his hands lightly resting on Mark’s head, his fingers slowly swirling around in the blonde hair, as Mark’s hands were on his lower half…calves, thighs, ass, exploring…feeling…not since he had been thirteen had he struggled this much not to orgasm, though since he was as good as he was at controlling himself, he was also tempted to have Mark down there forever. That being said…

“I want to come. The day is young and there is so much to do, so here’s the heads up...so to speak.”

He waited to give Mark time to ready himself, and then Damien gave himself over to the experience…

In no way, shape, or form had any of the times he had imagined Mark going down on him come anywhere close to the way he now felt as his orgasm ravaged him. His toes clenched against the shower floor, and his fingertips failed to find purchase against the tile as his pleasure had crested and ebbed away.

“Mark…”

His eyes were closed, and he could tell was not only Mark no longer kneeling but was in fact now standing in front of him. He felt a mouth on his and smiled as he realized that Mark’s mouth was not empty, and he swallowed his own seed. Eventually, he opened his eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“You’re okay with swallowing? I wanted you to taste yourself once, but…”

“Not the worst thing I’ve had in my mouth. I ate your Beef Wellington, didn’t I?”

“Get out of my shower.”

Damien turned off the water as Mark started laughing. They got out of the enclosure, and he grabbed towels for the pair of them.

“I have to say…I was not expecting that. I give you nine out of ten.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“My goal is to help you. What is the point of lying about how good or bad you were at something? Besides being a vampire, maybe you were also a rent boy in a previous life, because you’re cock sucking skills are amazing.”

“Shut up.”

Mark had pushed him; it was his turn to laugh. He grabbed the towel that was in Mark’s hands, took it from him, and began drying Mark’s hair.

“What stopped it from being perfect?”

He continued with Mark’s hair and hung the towel around his neck; he grabbed the ends and pulled Mark to him.

“I’m going to let you work that out on your own, but I am impressed.”

“You didn’t grab my head.”

“No, and unless you are purposely being rough, you don’t. Generally, it’s bad head etiquette, and if you try that with Rebecca or Nadja, you will be singing soprano in the Vienna Boys’ Choir.

“You, as the giver, set the pace. It allows you to do other things as well if I’m not ramming my cock down your throat. It’s a trade-off. I can jerk off and get myself off just so. Or I can get my dick sucked and have you take me through the journey of how you want to pleasure me.”

He finished dressing, and then made their way to Mark’s room so he could get dressed.

“Any plans on how we spend the rest of the day?”

“I was thinking we could just hang out…eat…watch movies…play video games. Just us.”

Damien slipped his arms around Mark’s waist. “I’d like that. The ladies will understand.”

“This has been the best day of my life so far.”

“Really? Better than Disneyland?”

“Way better.”

Damien smiled. “Take that, Mickey Mouse. Okay. One day spent doing fuck all. I think I can manage that.”

“I bought everything that I need to make Beef Wellington. I’m going to attempt tomorrow after we come back from Thorn.”

“Are you trying to show me up?”

“Yes.”

He looked Mark in the eyes. “Good. Don’t stop.”

“I mean given how bad yours….”

“We’ll see tomorrow.”

Together, they left Mark’s room.

…666…  

He and Mark had whiled away the day doing absolutely nothing, as they had earlier in the week, but this time was different. Every now and then, there were moments where they would kiss, or hold hands, and for Damien, apart from the day at Davidson where he found out who he really was, it was the most perfect day ever.

It was nearly two in the morning when they decided to hit the hay.

“Come with me to my room while I get ready for bed?”

“Of course.”

He followed him to his room and to the bathroom. He watched Mark wash his face and floss and brush his teeth.

“Why am I even doing my room? I pretty much assumed I’m shacking up with you in your room until Ann and Richard get back.”

Damien was silent.

“What?”

“You want to shack up with me?”

“You don’t want that?”

“I don’t want you to get tired of me.”

“Like you’ve ever worried about that with anyone in the whole of your life.”

“You aren’t just anyone, Mark Thorn.”

“Aren’t you sweet.”

“Only for you, and I can think of a few reasons why you want to fix your room.”

“Keepin’ those to yourself, too, huh?”

“You bet.”

Once he was done, the pair of them made their way to his room. In his bathroom, he went through his nighttime ablutions and found himself nervous, which was always an unsettling feeling.

When was the last time we slept together?  

Of course, the last time they had slept together, he hadn’t wanted to fuck Mark into exhaustion.

In his bedroom, Mark had apparently waited until he came out and began undressing and put on his pajamas.

“I wasn’t sure…”

He smiled. “Normally, I sleep au naturel but hang on.” He went to one of his dressers and put on a pair of grey silk pajamas.

“What makes you think that normally I don’t sleep naked?”

He watched as Mark slipped into the right side of the bed.

“I assumed. Please accept my many apologies.”

“It’s…I don’t know. It’s been a while since we both slept in the same bed.”

Damien was now in bed and turned onto his left side.

“I was thinking of that. We must have been nine or ten.”

“Wasn’t thinking about sex then, but you can be damn sure I’m thinking about it now.”

Damien laughed. “That makes two of us. Today was okay?”

“It was more than okay. I’m hoping there’ll be more.”

“Hope away because today was the warmup.”

Mark turned around and shut off his light; he did the same. The curtains were open and there was more than enough light for Damien to see.

“I’m also hoping that when I wake up, I won’t be disappointed to find that it’s all been a dream.”

Damien leaned over and kissed him. “Not going to happen.”

There was silence, and Mark reached over and stroked his face.

“I love you, forever and always.”

Damien was glad it was dark because he could feel his cheeks flush. “I love you, always and forever.”

Mark settled into his covers and with a sigh, closed his eyes. Damien adjusted his pillow and like Mark, closed his eyes.

“Do I ever get to read those notes of yours?”

He smiled. “Eventually.”

It was silent in the dark and it didn’t take long for Mark to pass out first.

He waited until he knew his cousin was fast asleep and Damien opened his eyes and looked at the figure sleeping next to him. Today had been perfect and it was only the beginning. He would show Mark who and what he could be; show him the world that could be his.

Damien closed his eyes again and smiled the Cheshire cat smile that he gave himself when he was especially pleased, and with the grin still on his mouth, he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

When Mark opened his eyes, it was dark in the room, though he could tell it was already getting light outside.

Where am I?

He sat up and let out a hard exhale of air as he realized in whose room he was. There was movement from beside him and he smiled as he turned to his left. Everything about yesterday came back in exquisite, delightfully graphic detail…the feeling of Damien’s mouth on his…his cousin’s hand wrapped around his cock…on his knees in the shower…

He threw off the covers, put his legs over the side of the bed, and clenched his toes against the carpet; it felt good. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly; that felt good. He smiled and stood, stretching in the coolness of the dark room. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so aware of his own body.

He heard a chuff and felt warmth beside him as Damien’s dog did his own stretch and then plopped down next to him.

“Come on, Carl.”

No doubt eager for an early breakfast, the dog followed him downstairs to the kitchen.

“Lights.”

He let out Carl outside and after, took a large portion of raw steak and put it in the microwave to warm it. Once the dog was back inside, Mark left him alone to eat and jogged up the stairs to his room and entered it without hesitation.

Unlike yesterday, he didn’t feel embarrassment or shame about the state of his room. Yes, it felt smaller, cramped, but most importantly, it felt like he no longer belonged in this room.

He stripped off his pajamas and smiled as he went into the bathroom. If he had his way, it would be the last time that he and Damien wore any clothing to bed.

He got the water up to where he liked it, stepped in, and collapsed back first against the wall. It had hit him while he had been in the shower with Damien. He had turned to look at him and there was his cousin, looking like a Greek god and oblivious to the fact that he was been ogled.

Damien could bullshit with the best of them; in fact, Mark couldn’t think of anyone who could lie better than Damien could. He could sell ice to the proverbial Inuit.

But what Damien didn’t do was let his guard down and be vulnerable. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his cousin cry or be visibly upset by something. So, if Damien said that he had the hots for Mark Thorn, and was in love with him, who the fuck was he to argue?

He grabbed his shampoo bottle and squeezed some into his hand, rub his hands together and lathered his hair.

He more than wasn’t going to argue. If Damien was in love with him, he was going to lean into so hard that he was going to be mistaken for the Leaning Tower of Pisa. If Damien was taking the piss as the Brits were fond of saying, then that was on Damien.

Most importantly, he would step into being the Mark Thorn that he could feel inside; the Mark Thorn Damien insisted had always been there.

He had slept soundly, but now that he was awake, his mind was a furry of activity. He would give anything to have a peek into that notebook of his cousin’s, but he assumed that while…class was in session, the notebook was off limits.

What would Damien want to improve about me?

He had done most of the notetaking while the dinner party had been going on. So, think. What had you been doing at the dinner party…

Clothing for sure. Damien had gone out of his way to show him the contents of his dresser drawers and closet. He had worn one of the suits that Damien had found to his disliking.

He didn’t remember doing much talking. As with the case of nearly every time Paul Buher turned up, the discussion often turned to business. He didn’t know enough about Thorn, or whatever projects were going on to contribute to any meaningful conversation.

He had gotten out of the shower and had wrapped a towel around his waist. He wiped the steam off the mirror and turned his face from left to right.

He liked being clean shaven, but it would be nice to grow a full beard instead of the patchy crap that liked to pop up here and there when he didn’t take care of it.

He put some shaving cream in his hand lathered it onto his face and suddenly let out a chuckle.

“You’re not the only one who can keep a notebook, smart ass.”

It was a lot to take in. He wanted to work out most of this stuff for himself and what better way to do that than to do what his cousin had done.

He splashed some warm water on his face, patted it dry, then applied some aftershave. He went to his closet and pulled out the second suit that his cousin had hated; it was all he had for right now to wear to Thorn.

He threw on briefs, socks, white shirt, tie, and then the suit. He tightened the tie in front of the mirror and gave himself the once-over.

“Not bad.”

In his desk drawer, he found a blank notebook and a pen. Not only was would it be important for him to make notes for things that Damien saw as needing improvement, it was equally, if not more important, for him to make notes for things about himself that he did not want to change.

As he headed down the stairs, he heard Carl bark.

“Hey, come get your dog so I can eat in peace. No. Sit.”

He opened the kitchen door and couldn’t help but laugh as the large Rottweiler had his massive paws on the edge of the chair where Damien was now sitting…and where he was also in imminent danger of losing his toasted bagel with cream cheese.

How he had managed to control himself this far with his cousin, he had no clue. Since yesterday, he wanted Damien 24/7.

He came up behind the brunette, put his left hand in the hair, and with a fistful of the dark locks in his hand pulled back so that Damien was looking up him. He lowered his face and firmly placed his mouth against his cousin’s…there vague taste of toothpaste and mouthwash…and cream cheese. Not to mention that being that close to Damien meant having a nose full of his very expensive and incredibly scented after shave.

He eventually pulled away, gently tugging Damien’s lip until he let it go.

“Good morning.” He kissed his cousin’s forehead.

“It is now.”

“Coffee smells so good…”

“I said no. Sit. Do something about your dog.”

“He has a name, you know.” He poured himself a cup of the freshly brewed black gold and added cream and sugar. He stood with his back against the counter watching as Damien shoved the last bit of his bagel into his mouth.

“Ha! Me, one. You, nothing. Take that, dog. And you are the one who named him Carl.”

He put a bagel in the toaster and set the timer for one minute and forty-five seconds. “Breakfast is a little light this morning.”

“Paul texted and asked for me to join him in the Executive Dining Room. I said you’d be coming. If you…”

Mark shook his head. “I’m fine for going Executive Dining Room. Besides, if I want a decent breakfast, I have no choice.”

The cream cheese was already on the table, and he sat with his bagel and plate and proceeded to slather his bread in the creamy goodness. He looked over at Damien who had his head buried in the newspaper.

He knew very little as to what went on at his family’s company, and that was definitely going to have to change. It was no longer acceptable to him that people whose names were not on the front of the building knew more about what went on there than he did.

As he ate, he watched as Damien went through the newspaper…business section, sports, entertainment, even fashion and the society column. He got up to let Carl out and once he was back inside, Damien stood.

“Ready?”

“I’ll be back soon, Carl.”

He had no illusions about to whom the dog truly belonged. The Rottweiler nudged his thigh, but came over to Damien, sat, and lowered his head in seeming subservience.

“I’ll not be back soon, but I’ll see you later.”

They left the main house and Mark set the alarm. In the garage, the lights automatically came on.

There were no fewer than twenty-six vehicles in the garage, most of which belonged to the individual standing next to him, and those weren’t even all the cars the Damien owned.

“Heads up.”

Mark saw the glint of the keys in the lights and caught them, turning over the metal in his hands.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t ask again or I might change my mind.”

His cousin had just handed him the keys to his 2022 Porsche 911. Blood red, fast as fuck, and Damien’s pride and joy.

He clicked the opener and pulled the handle. The scent of leather wafted out of the interior. He smiled. Better than fresh baked pie left on a kitchen ledge to cool.

He settled behind the wheel, grinning as he had to push the seat back.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear that fucking smirk.”

“Whatever, shorty.”

It was five forty-five, and with luck, they would beat the bulk of the traffic that was headed into the city.

He drove and again, paid attention to what Damien was doing, which right now was putting on the radio to an AM station to listen to the news. He then sat back and began scrolling through his phone.

The drive was going swimmingly, and the car moved like a dream. Why he had forgone a sports car, he didn’t know, but handling Damien’s car was giving him pause for thought…which was suddenly interrupted by another thought. He shifted in his seat, though he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t uncomfortable, and he would have bet a substantial amount of money that Damien wasn’t either. However, there was only one way to find out…

“I’m going to go out on a fairly secure limb and guess you don’t care that we’re cousins.”

“No, I do not. Do you?”

He shook his head. “No. Back, I don’t know, a hundred years ago, if one of us would have been a woman, they would have married us off to each other by now.”

“Very true.”

“The only difference now is that we can’t marry each other because the state of Illinois doesn’t recognize marriage between cousins, difference in gender or not.”

“Mark Thorn, have you been imagining the pair of us walking down the aisle?”

“Perhaps. And by perhaps, I mean yes, though a metaphorical aisle. Not really into a church wedding.”

“That makes two of us.”

The were making good time until they hit the inevitable snarl that there always was just before they entered the city proper.

“I don’t think it hit me until you pointed it out. We are filthy rich. I mean we could have hot and cold running anything the fuck we wanted to.”

“Yes, we are and yes, we could.”

“But we have to walk into an edifice that has our name on the front, where my father sits in the office at the very top of that very tall building, like I didn’t spend part of yesterday on my knees sucking your cock like I was trying to pull out your tonsils from your dick.”

“Mmm, Mark…”

“We should be able to walk into the Executive Dining Room holding hands, but we can’t. Things are tricky with us being together, but I want…”

“Want what.”

They still weren’t going anywhere, and he turned to Damien, who sat turned towards him, leaning forward, hunger in his eyes as though Mark were a tasty neck and Damien, the vampire who was going to drink him dry.

This time he answered. No hesitation. No being at a loss for words; or too afraid to say what it was that he wanted.

“The world. I want it to be mine. I want what I want. I want you and I want to be able to flaunt our relationship in front of everyone and let the plebs drool and be jealous over the fact that I have you.”

There was a very pregnant pause and Damien sat, his chest heaving. Mark watched as he closed his eyes, and then after steadying himself, opened them again.

“I can give you the world, Mark. I can wrap it up in a big, red, shiny bow and give it to you. Make you my king. Put you on a throne and people will more than be jealous, Mark, they will worship your name as they worship mine.”

He didn’t know how to take that, but he was aware of the heaviness that had now permeated the car. He let out a snort.

“Big talk from someone whose feet can’t reach the pedals from way back here.” He stretched his arms to show how far away they from where his back was pressed into his seat.

“One day, Mark. One day. And if you ever want to drive my car again, nix the short jokes.”

“Right now, I’d be satisfied with the traffic moving a little quicker. And, we’ll see about nixing the jokes.”

Eventually, the traffic cleared, and he and Damien headed into the city to begin their day.

Chapter Text

Mark pulled back the tab on his warm can of Coke and slowly poured it over the ice, enjoying the sound, the sensation even, of the ice cracking in the glass.

He had brought a cup of coffee back to his and Damien’s office, thinking that the professional surroundings might give him the inspiration to make it possible for him to consume the beverage outside of breakfast, but it was a no go.

He jammed a lime wedge on the side of the glass. “There. Now I’m sophisticated. Cheers.”

He sat back, took a drink, and allowed himself a self-satisfied gloat. Everything about breakfast had been above and beyond as usual; though today, he found himself looking over the menu, interested in learning to make some of the dishes on his own.

He had spent the meal mostly observing what the men were wearing and by the time he was done, he had a pretty good idea of the look he wanted. The first thing he had done when he had returned to the office was find a tailor shop in the city; an up-and-coming one that neither Richard nor Damien frequented. He needed to develop his own sense of style and he wanted someone to be inspired to help him do that and not just duplicate what his cousin, or worse, his father wore.

That however was not what was causing his elated mood.

Paul, Damien, and he had left the Thorn Executive Dining Room and he continued with the pair of them until…

“It’s alright, Mark, you don’t need to be at this meeting.”  

The tone was classic Paul…to the point, jovial, and with more than a hint off dismissiveness that he used on anyone who the Vice-President of Thorn Industries deemed beneath him, and Mark was smart enough to know that sometimes, that included him.  

He had always ignored it. Afterall, Paul Buher, no matter the position he held, was still only an employee and Mark knew that it was his family’s business, not anyone else’s. However, it was the first time that it occurred to him that perhaps Paul was so comfortable with treating him that way was because he had always let it go.    

That was going to change. Now.

“What did you just say to me?”

Paul had turned to walk away and had not registered the less than subtle anger in the question, and with annoyance that poured off him in thick waves, Paul turned around only to be confronted with a look on Mark’s face that had said enough was enough.  

“I asked you a question. What did you just say to me?”  

Mark could not remember the last time he had witnessed Paul struck silent, and it had never been due to anything that had come out of his mouth.  

“I will ask only once more. What. Did. You. Just. Say. To. Me.”  

“You don’t need to be at this meeting.”  

While Paul’s tone was not conciliatory, it was no longer condescending or irritated.  

Mark took a step forward and was now only inches from the man’s face. “When you walked through those doors this morning, I’m sure you noticed that the name on the glass said Thorn. My name. Not yours. Mine. You’d do well to remember that…Paul.  

Never in his life had he called him anything other than Mr. Buher to his face.  

As he and Damien had walked past him, Mark hadn’t been filled with glee, as if he had been a miscreant child who had gotten away with something naughty. Instead, it felt like he had finally stepped into a place where he not only belonged but ruled.

That being said, he hadn’t been able to help himself as he had asked Damien to follow his lead and the pair of them had sat at the end of the table, half listening to the presentation and the questions and answers, leaning over, pretending to whisper something while the other jotted gibberish on the note pad. Most of the men had stumbled over their responses, worried their jobs were on the line. And even Paul had shot a glance down their way a few times, no doubt wondering if Richard Thorn had instructed his family to initiate a task that had been kept secret from the Vice-President of the company.  

Not only had none of the women fallen for it, but all of them had also been amused by their male colleagues’ responses; and once the meeting had concluded, many of them had given him smiles that he had never received…ones rife with sexual overtones.

He picked up his notepad and then looked at his computer and the schedule that he had created. Some of the time set aside would be temporary, like going to the tailor and finding clothing, and of course having his room redone. Once all those things were taken care of, more time would be spent on other things.

Of course, this would all change again once he and Damien were at Yale come September.

He looked at the two points he had written: redecorating the room and the oral sex that he had performed on Damien.

The room would be done regardless. His cousin being who he was, would remember the directive that he had issued and would want him to come up with the answer as to why the room needed to be changed even if he wasn’t going to be spending much time there.

Sex was what was now preoccupying his mind and the subject was taking up a significant amount of the schedule and that wasn’t including indulging in the acts themselves.

There was Damien, and while he could teach a class in being high maintenance, the pair of them were men, and Mark had been handling his cock on a near daily basis since he was twelve. There may be some nuance involved, knowing and wanting to learn what drove Damien crazy with lust, but the toy involved was the same.

No one had to tell Mark sex with women was on a different level. Since he could remember, the inability for men to sexually please the ladies was a running gag on some sit-coms. He had also heard enough conversations to know that simply watching heterosexual porn was going to be more harmful than helpful. Add to that was the fact that Rebecca and Nadja were Olympic gold medalists when it came to sexual escapades, and he was beginning to wonder if he had devoted enough time in the schedule to the topic of fornication when it came to women.

He had also never really stopped to think about what he enjoyed. Before all of this, sex was just a massive jumble of actions that led to an orgasm. Hands…mouths…other body parts and then wham, bam, thank you ma’am, or cuz, as the case may be. The erotic equivalent of fast-food dining.

Now, sex was a nine-course meal, paired with the finest wines, prepared and served by world-class chefs. He smirked as he finished off the Coke in his glass. If all he had to worry about was sex with Damien Thorn, at his young age already crowned the “World’s Most Eligible Bachelor,” and two goddesses like Rebecca and Nadja, he was truly a blessed man.

After the morning meeting, Damien had told him that he really did need to see Paul privately and that they would have lunch together before Mark went home. He hoped his cousin came back soon because breakfast was beginning to wear off. He was planning to take tomorrow to go to the tailor to be fitted for suits and perhaps to come away with some suggestions for casual yet still expensive clothes for going to the golf club and the like. He had zero plans to give up his track pants and t-shirts; he would just buy some that didn’t have Davidson Military Academy emblazoned all over them.

He was happy with what he had written down as topics that he wanted to cover over the next few days, he made his way to the middle of the room, which acted as a shared space between him and Damien. There was an overstuffed black leather couch and two matching chairs. There was also a table where they often ate lunch or sat to work on projects together. Their one large office had begun life has two separate rooms, but the pair of them had gone to Richard and asked to give them one large workspace that they could share.

Along the side of the interior wall were two large but relatively light doors, behind which was a kitchenette. Mark pulled open the doors and from the cabinets grabbed plates, and anything else he thought that they might need for lunch and put everything into the small sink, washing and then drying everything. He set the table and was grabbing cloth napkins when the door opened and closed, though Mark was focused on the mouth-watering smell that came wafting into the room before he acknowledged the bringer of the food.

“Chan’s…I’d recognize that magnificent aroma anywhere. Come to poppa, you delicious…”

The next thing Mark knew he was being grabbed by his tie, which was now being wrapped around his cousin’s right hand and he was manoeuvred to the black leather sofa that took up considerable space in the middle of the room. The backs of his calves were against the sofa and Damien stood in front of him, his hand still entwined in the tie.

“When I realized that all of this was not only about fucking you but was also about getting you to step into who I knew you always could be, I wanted you to embrace that goal and begin working towards its end. Instead…hmmm…you’ve grabbed the bull by the horns as the say and you dove into it with the fervour of a starving man at a free all-you-can-eat buffet.

“You told Paul to, and I want to pause for the sheer deliciousness of this…watch his back. He asked, you know, when he and I got to his office, what had gotten into you, and I had to literally bite my tongue not to ask besides my cock in his mouth?

“I told him that you had a point. That he had no right to speak to you the way that he had, especially in the presence of subordinates who had heard him check the son of the president of this company. I reminded him that you had more right to be here than does. And that my name is on the front of that glass as well, and no, before you try to correct anything, because I see the words forming on that fuckable mouth of yours, you were right to say mine and not ours.

“I love the you that you are becoming; the you that you are stepping into. You’ve always deserved this, Mark. I hope you noticed the women at the meeting this morning, who could have eaten you up with a spoon and some chocolate sauce. But too bad, so sad, you’re mine. You did something for me yesterday morning and all I could think of during my meeting with Paul was returning that favour.”

Damien had released the tie and pushed him back so that he was now sitting on the sofa, and the next thing he knew, his cousin was straddling him and then…there was a mouth on his…fierce, hard, his cousin’s his tongue nearly down his throat. He had to mentally grab a hold of himself and remain calm and find his centre because if left unchecked, he would come before Damien’s mouth got within inches of his prick. He kissed back as hard and fiercely as Damien had kissed him. He felt Damien’s mouth around his tongue, pulling, releasing, doing it again, not unlike…

This is everything that Damien had hinted at after the blow job you gave him in the shower. You are a student right now, Mark, and class is most definitely in session, so pay the fuck attention.

Damien bit his lip, hard and insistent, though Mark could not taste the familiar iron tang of blood. He bit back; however, he suddenly found his hands in Damien’s, who now kept their hands, for now, pinned to Mark’s side.

This is not quid pro quo time. Yes, return the affection, don’t be a dead body, but don’t attempt to top him, literally or otherwise. He wants to be in charge; he wants to possess and own you. To mark you as his. Let him.

His cousin’s mouth was now buried in his neck. “Fuck…” he inhaled Damien’s scent, the cologne, aftershave and the smell of him that came rushing to the surface and displaced all those others. The scent was more necessary to Mark than the air itself and if he could exist purely off of it, he would.

“I’d love nothing more than that. You are testing my patience more than any other human on this planet ever has.”

The mouth on his neck now had teeth and Damien clamped down with enough force that it hurt. But instead of wincing, Mark sharply drew in breath as a shudder went down his spine and into his legs.

Well, well, Mark Thorn. Are we a bit of a masochist? Yet another topic to add to that list of ours.  

Damien stood and then knelt between Mark’s open legs, his hands deftly and swiftly unbuckling Mark’s belt, then undoing the button and pulling down the zipper. He lifted his ass of the couch while his cousin shimmed his pants and his briefs down around his ankles, and Damien pulled one leg free of the material, which allowed him to spread his legs further apart.

While the anticipation of the act was enough to have every drop of blood in his body head directly to his cock, there was an uneasiness about seeing Damien on his knees. It was a position that he rarely if ever saw his cousin in, but sure and eager hands ran up his thighs and the pair locked eyes with each other.

“Do you now know and accept how many others would willingly and gladly be here, on their knees, anticipating putting your prick in their mouth?”

“Yes.”

“I hear and see the belief and I’m glad. They can all go fuck themselves, because I get you. I like this you, Mark. Here’s to becoming more.”

Damien’s left hand went around the back of his head, pulling him closer, that mouth again on his, while his right began to…

Slither…that’s what it is…a serpent slithering across my body…wending its way…claiming me for itself…  

…down his neck, across to his shoulder and down his arm.

There was a hand on his chest and Mark groaned as his left nipple was pinched. Hard.

His cousin had pulled away and with a smirk, held his right hand out near Mark’s mouth.

“Now be a good lad and spit.”

Mark did as he was told, and Damien add his own spit to his hand and the next thing he knew his cock was in Damien’s hand.

He sank deeper into the couch as his pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes. And then…

You are the ocean that recedes in the face of a tsunami. You will not come rushing back to the shore until it is allowed.

He rested his head against the back of the sofa, eyes still closed, and he smiled as he could feel Damien’s hand smoothly glide up and down, switching up his speed and rhythm as he went. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Damien did to himself when he was alone.

And then…warmth and he drew in a sharp breath as his cousin’s mouth enveloped his cock and Mark drew further into himself. He now had to imagine an immense wall in front of his ocean waves in order to not have an orgasm right then and there.

You need to be present. Get a hold of yourself and look.  

He lifted his head and slowly opened his eyes to the sight of Damien’s head moving up and down and Mark allowed himself a smirk.

“Seems I’m not the only one who might have been a vampire in a previous life…or a rent boy.”

Damien’s mouth came off of him.

“Perhaps it’s best to think about the fact that I have a very delicate part of your anatomy in my mouth and that smartass comments are bound to necessitate some kind of repercussive action.”

Mark leaned forward. “I dare you to bite my dick off.”

“You’re so lucky that I would bet what we’re both worth that your cock is far more useful attached to you than not.”

Warm hands ran up his equally warm thighs. “Indeed.” Mark leaned back; his left arm bent behind his head.

“Don’t we look comfortable. You’re also lucky we’re at work right now and time is, as they say, against us. I’d give you a right proper lesson in getting your cock sucked.”

He laughed as the last part of what Damien had said had been with an English accent.

“I’m holding you to that.”

Hands moved across his stomach and found the dark patch of pubic hair and he met Damien’s eyes. Mark held his gaze until, with a smirk, Damien returned to what he had been doing.

He let his fingers lightly play in Damien’s hair and he understood what the critique that had been given in the shower. He knew better for next time.

He couldn’t see exactly was what going on, but he could feel it…a hand on his calf…thigh…his cock and balls being stroked and fondled. He could have stayed here all day like this…under Damien’s ministrations, basking in absolute bliss. He knew this wasn’t the best sex there was, and he knew this wasn’t the best that his cousin could give, but it was everything that he had always wanted. Not only for only Damien to feel the same, but to return the affection with equal enthusiasm and he was not only getting it, he was getting it in spades.

Uneven strokes and head movements gradually turned into a measured and determined attempt to speed up the whole process and bring the encounter to its conclusion.

He felt a pinch on his right thigh, and he could have unleashed his orgasm right then and there, but…he smirked…he had waited this far, he could wait ten seconds longer.

In his head, he counted to ten. And then…

Pleasure the likes of which he had never imagined possessed him, filling every ounce of his being with fire. He was burning up from the inside out and he never wanted it to stop.

I’m going mad. This is me going mad…or dying…or both. I’m being torn apart…ripped up into tiny bits and I do not give a fuck if I ever get put back together…  

It had been sudden, overwhelming and all-consuming…but now it was ebbing away…he could breathe, and his heart didn’t feel like it was going to explode…he was now also aware that he could taste lint; to hide the noises that he had been making, he had nearly inhaled the throw pillow that had been sitting undisturbed beside him up until this point. He unclenched his fist from around the red and black material and rather clumsily, placed it back on the couch.

“I trust everything was satisfactory?”

He could hear the smugness in Damien’s voice; he did not have it in him to offer his cousin a witty retort. Mark opened his eyes and found him still kneeling between his legs, the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

“Damien Thorn, master of understatement.”

“I’m a master of many, many things.”

He reached out, grabbed Damien’s tie, and pulled him forward, his lips landing squarely and firmly against his cousin’s. There was the faint taste of…him; apparently, sharing had not been on Damien’s mind as he had swallowed everything that had been in his mouth. While he was kissing, his stomach gurgled loud enough to be heard.

“I think we’re both hungry. I’ll fix our plates while you get dressed.”

Damien gave him a quick kiss and then was gone, no doubt dishing out lunch that he had had delivered from Chan’s.

Mark shoved his shoed-foot through the leg hole in his briefs, then pants and then stood to button and zipper himself. He was fastening his belt when he returned to the kitchenette. He washed his hands, opened the fridge and grabbed another can of Coke. It was still warm, so he filled a new glass with ice and brought it to the table.

Once their plates had both been warmed in the microwave, they took their usual seats at the table.

“Here’s mud in your eye.”

Damien lifted his glass of club soda.

“Bottoms up.”

Even with chopsticks, he could have shovelled it in fast enough to choke on what he was eating, he was that hungry. However, he forced himself to slow down, savouring the taste of each bite he took. Once he was done, he got seconds for himself, which included another Coke. As he sat, he heard Damien scoff.

“The fuck was that about?”

“I can’t believe I performed oral sex on a man who still drinks Coke like he’s five.”

“First, five-year-olds aren’t supposed to drink Coke. Second, I need the caffeine. Third, there is a reason that one usually drinks carbonated beverages with their Chinese food.”

“What would that be?”

Mark belched so hard he felt it.

“Makes room for more.” He leaned back and gave his stomach a pat.

“Then drink Canada Dry, or club soda.”

He watched as Damien picked up his glass.

“You drank Coke at the party.”

“Precisely. At a party. Where it belongs.”

“You can have my can of Coke when you pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

He lifted his own glass and took a drink. When he put down the glass, he looked over at his cousin.

“Paul really asked about what I had said?”

“Sure as shit he did. Add to that the shenanigans we pulled in the meeting and our poor Mr. Buher won’t be getting much sleep tonight. It’s going to take every ounce of control he possesses not to call Richard in, wherever is the fuck Richard is right now, to make sure things aren’t going on that he doesn’t know about.”

There was malicious grin on Damien’s lips and Mark didn’t understand it.

“I thought you liked Paul.”

“I don’t like him in the way that you mean. I don’t hang out with him, and I don’t see him outside of a professional setting. He performs his job far above expectations. In fact, I’m going to guess that when he started working here, he set the expectations before then promptly exceeding them. But he knows his place with both me and your father.”

Damien moved his hands to indicate that both he and Richard sat above the current Vice-President of Thorn, and that Paul Buher sat, more importantly, below them.

“You never gave him pause for thought about how to treat you…until this morning.”

Lunch was dispensed with, and Mark packed up what was left to take home.

“You sure you want to go?”

“Nothing to do here. Besides, I have things to do at home, including preparing a Beef Wellington so good it will make you weep…and to print out yet another certificate for you to hang on the fridge. What time do you think you’ll be home?”

“The usual, maybe later, but before six.”

“Will there be dessert tonight?”

“I’m not the one who…oh, I see. That kind of dessert. I don’t know. I didn’t have a chance to speak with Rebecca or Nadja before we left.  It certainly can be brought up.”

Mark washed and dried his hands and joined Damien at the door, where he had his jacket in hand.

“Allow me.”

It was amusing…until Damien settled the jacket onto his shoulders and spun him around so that they were facing each other. As he straightened his tie, and then used the side off this right hand to brush away some piece of fluff or the like that needed to be removed, Mark was hit with the feeling of butterflies fluttering in his stomach. It was homey and domestic. Not to mention, he had never seen Damien do it for anyone else…

But you aren’t just anybody.

“Are you taking my car?”

Mark snorted. “For someone who can bullshit better than anyone I know, you did a piss-poor job of hoping that I don’t, which I’m not. I’ll get a car and a driver so you and the precious can spend some quality time alone.”

He found himself up against the office door, Damien’s warm mouth against his; it made Mark want to strip his cousin naked and fuck him right here and now.

“I love you.”

“I love you, more.”

Damien released him and then handed him the plastic bag containing the left-over food.

“I’ll be sure to tell Paul you said hey.”

He laughed. “You do that. I’ll see you later.”

“You bet.”

Damien opened the door to the office and Mark left, taking off down the hallway and then to the elevator down to the garage to find someone to take him home.

Chapter Text

Before heading home, he had asked the driver to stop at the grocery store so he could pick up a few things. With less traffic on the road, it hadn’t taken long until he was back at the Thorn homestead, where he had left the groceries in the kitchen, and grabbed a beer before going up to his room to change into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, neither of which bore any reference to Davidson Military Academy.

He made his way to Damien’s room and paused at the open door, leaning against the frame. Gone was any feeling of not belonging or not fitting in. It felt like a ridiculous notion now, but he had come a long way in the few days that he and his cousin had been together.

The room, like its owner, was gorgeous and sans flaw. The bed had been made and the clothing had been picked up. Not so much as a speck of dust sat on any surface. It was also apparent that the vacuum had been run while they had been out.

He stepped inside and smiled. The pair of them were usually occupied doing other things while they were here, so he hadn’t really had a chance to look around.

The décor was shades of grey…carpet, bed clothing, the curtains, blinds, the chairs in the seating area…all grey and the highest quality of materials. Even the leather chair behind the desk was dark grey and the softest leather that Mark had ever felt.

There were a few splashes of color with the art…red, white, black. Not much of a personal nature, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t exist. He knew that if his cousin kept mementos or keepsakes, they were hidden from view; being vulnerable was not his forte.

The space contained an essentialness to it…it was Damien’s room from one end to the other and could not have belonged to anyone other than him. It flowed, every part of it joining the others with no jarring edges that broke the calm and tranquility of being in there.

Damien and Richard didn’t have much in common, but what they did seem to share was the idea that one was “on” at all times. The fastidious and button-down nature of the pair of them was not a façade but was the way they operated twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and three hundred and sixty-five days a year. If they had to have a life altering meeting at one forty in the morning on a Sunday, they already looked the part. The clothes merely accentuated what was already there.

That wasn’t him, but he did get the importance of looking the part, and he was hoping tomorrow’s appointment with the tailors would get him somewhere.  He was still stumped however when it came to what he was going to do with his room.

He moved to the bathroom. Products he had never heard of sat on the bathroom counter and the same with the shower...most of it French, Italian, or Swiss, and while the various containers were tiny compared to the bottle his products came in, they no doubt cost several arms and a couple of pairs of legs. He inhaled. They did smell beyond divine. It had been hours since the shower had been used, and yet, the faint smell of sage and sandalwood hung in the air.

He heard panting and a chuff as a black and tan lump sat beside him at the door, bumping his massive head against his thigh.

“Carl. Fancy meeting you here.” He reached down and gave the dog a scritch behind his right ear.

The dog let out a woof, happy with the attention.

“Well said. Alright. Enough shenanigans. I have a meal to prepare that needs to blow the roof off this dump. Care to be my moral support?”

 The dog stood and tilted his head.

“I mean after I feed you and let you out and give you a treat or two.”

The door let out a few happy barks and dashed out of the room, no doubt headed to the kitchen.

“Let the games commence.”

He turned on his heels and left to join Carl downstairs.

…666…  

“So?” Mark sat back, a glass of wine in his hand. He could feel himself glow, and he wanted to bask in the praise that had been only half uttered through the evening’s meal.

“I’m impressed. Congratulations.” Rebecca took a sip of her own wine.

He watched Nadja roll her eyes, and she turned to face him.

“Not only was this good, but it’s also one of the best Beef Wellingtons I’ve ever had. The asparagus was grilled to perfection. The fondant potatoes…crispy on the outside, fall apart delicious on the inside…you know, you’ve got a career as a chef if you wanted it. Bravo. See? That’s how you tell someone they’ve cooked a good meal. It’s like pulling teeth, sometimes with her.”

While they had had their meal in the formal dining room, the quartet was casually dressed, albeit on Damien’s and Rebecca’s part, impeccably put together.

Earlier, Mark wasn’t certain where he wanted the evening to go, but as he had kept looking across at Nadja during dinner, he had settled on a plan…so long as it was agreeable with her.

There was some chitchat, some drinking of wine, and thankfully, no talk of dessert, since the dessert was to heavily feature in his après dinner plans.

“I’ll just take…” he stood to begin bringing the dishes and everything else to the kitchen. He had cleaned as he went, so the plates, cutlery and so forth were all that needed to be put in the dishwasher.

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“You cooked dinner. It’s the least we can do.”

He received a wink from Nadja as she picked up his things and hers and carried them through to the kitchen.

“Aren’t you the boy of the hour.”

“Yes, I am. I rather like all the attention, and I can’t help but sit here and think how I get more of it.”

“I turned Mark Thorn into an attention whore. My work here is done. ‘Night, folks!”

He watched as his cousin sat back with a self-satisfied expression on his face.

“Did I tell you how fuckable you look?”

“Yes, you did, but I never mind hearing it from you.”

He reached out and took Damien’s hand. “When are you going to make a man out of me?”

Damien burst out into laughter. “Well, I can bend you over the dining room table, but it will entirely ruin my plans for…”

“You going where no man has gone before?”

“Is there a woman I need to be talking to…”

Damien leaned forward.

“Did I tell you how much I love this new you?”

“Yes, you did, but I never mind hearing it from you.”

“You’re an unbroken line, Mark. A piece of art where all the pieces fit together. You’re harmonious, synchronous.”

He was going to make a comment about how poetic it sounded, but it suddenly occurred to him that Damien wasn’t being poetic; he was seeing him in a way that Mark couldn’t understand. As if he had turned into one of those people who could taste sounds or hear colours.

“You’re deep.”

“Not anywhere near as deep as I am going to be inside of you, Mark.”

Damien’s voice had dropped a little and the seductiveness of it made him shudder inside.

He pretended to clutch an invisible strand of pearls around his neck. “Is sex all you think about?”

“Most of the time. That and world domination…which usually leads to sex, so…I guess the answer is yes.

“Speaking of sex.” He lowered his voice. “I know at the office I hinted that I might be interested in some after dinner…”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You know that.”

“I know. I can’t just…I don’t know her. I’ve had a crush on Nadja since the day she stepped foot in her. I’ve jerked off thinking about her more times than I can count, but…she’s a person. I don’t think I can just…”

“You don’t have to explain. You say what goes or what doesn’t go, and what does or doesn’t happen. Capish?”

“Capish.”

“Actually, that’s capisco. As in, I understand.”

“Thanks professor Berlitz.”

“Anytime.”

“I hope everything is okay in there…they’ve been gone for a bit.”

“Only one way to find out.”

In the kitchen Rebecca and Nadja were chatting quietly by the sink.

“Well, that’s disappointing. Here I was hoping the pair of you were up to something naughty. Was crossing my fingers I might be able to join in.”

“You’re incorrigible.” Mark reached over and uncrossed his cousin’s fingers on his right hand.

“It is, in fact, my middle name.”

“Is anything wrong?”

“Right as rain.”

Nadja gave him a smile. He was truly glad that nothing had come up that might put a damper on his plans.

“Actually…” he cleared his throat. “I’m not sure what your ideas were for passing the next few hours, but I was wondering if you would like to spend some time together?”

“I’d love to.”

“Alright, then. Problem solved.”

The best wines were in the cellar, but he watched as Damien found a bottle of something not too shabby from the overhead wine rack above the pantry.

“I guess that leaves Rebecca and I on our own for the evening. How ever shall we pass the time?”

“I’m sorry, but where do you think you’re going?”

Damien turned, a look of genuine confusion on his face.

He pointed at the fridge. “My fancy ice box only has one certificate on it that states what an awesome cook I am. Can’t have that.”

“Just shut the fuck up and give it to me.”

He handed the piece of paper to him. “Such language.”

Damien picked up the fridge magnets, a pair of matching bottles of wine, and affixed it below the other piece of paper.

“Happy?”

“I don’t know.” He tilted his head to right and then left. “I think it’s crooked.”

“You’ll be crooked in a minute if you don’t stop.”

“I forget how much you don’t like sucking at things.”

“Considering it’s you, I’ll let my usual pettiness slide.”

“You’re very generous. I feel special.”

“You should. You are special. It’s one of the best dinners I’ve ever eaten in this house. But the company was what made it extra special.”

Damien had handed the bottle of wine to Rebecca and now stood only inches away from him.

“Big-business-Mark. Telling-off-Paul Buher-Mark. Domestic-Mark. I’m so looking forward to meeting Fucks-like-a-Beast-Mark.”

Mere days ago, Mark would have felt like a deer caught in the headlight under the pull of those blue eyes…helpless and out of his depth. Now, he met Damien’s demanding look with his own. One that said he was as ready to take as much as he was ready to give.

“You do know how to make a fella feel wanted.”

“I hope so. It really was very good. She would have been proud of you.”

Mark could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. “You go too far, Mr. Thorn.”

“I don’t think so. Have fun, you two. Don’t stay up past your bedtime.”

Damien kissed him and then he and Rebecca left the kitchen. He watched as they quickly made their way up the stairs and then turned to go to Damien’s room. He waited until they were gone before turning back to Nadja.

“Do you have room for dessert?”

“I always have room for dessert. I didn’t see…”

“You don’t think I know Damien has a sweet tooth that he pretends he doesn’t have?” He made his way to the fridge and opened one of the doors, reaching down to get to the vegetable crispers. “Lectures me on my Coke drinking, but I’ve seen him put away an entire cake by himself. If I remember correctly, your favourite dessert from Shore’s is the crustless cheesecake? Please tell me I got that right. Otherwise, you are going to be sorely disappointed by what’s in this box.”

“Mark Thorn, you are a man after my own heart.”

“Thank God. They were out of peach cobbler, so I thought cheesecake for two. I got some different toppings…cherry, blueberry, salted caramel, and chocolate. Which one?”

“Yes.”

“There’s tea…chamomile…with lavender and vanilla. How’s that sound?” He had the pantry door open.

“I’ll get…”

“Nope, this is me. You do enough around here. I’m glad to give it rather than be on the receiving end.”

She sat at the kitchen table, her back against the wall so she could face him.

“You don’t have to twist my arm to be waited on hand and foot.”

It was actual loose-leaf tea. It was one of the few things that he had up on Damien, who, if he did drink tea, drank shit that came in a little bag. Not to mention, that had had to stop his cousin from adding milk to his herbal tea. He sat the tin on the counter and went to work and it didn’t take long until there was a tray that held a small pot of tea, a bowl of raw sugar and a few spoons. He had also heated up the toppings for the cheesecake, each in their own ramekin, and now the kitchen table resembled a sweet shop.

“Sugar?”

“Two, please.”

He made her cup the way she liked it, and then made his own, also with two sugars.

“Here’s to a great evening.”

He smiled. “I’ll drink to that.”

He gently clinked his teacup against hers. He had gone with the actual Wedgewood bone china in celebration of the fact that it wasn’t so long ago he would have barely been able to open his mouth around her. Now, he had asked her for her time, and she had enthusiastically said yes. Besides, if you had the best, it seemed a waste not to use it.

The cheesecake cost over twenty bucks per slice, but each piece was large enough for a small kitten to comfortably have a nap on. Not to mention, Shores was one of the best bakeries in all of Chicago. They went back and forth on the sauces, Nadja favored the chocolate, while he had found himself surprisingly taken with the salted caramel.

“More tea?”

“Yes, please.”

He filled her cup, though she added her own sugar. So far, the conversation had revolved around how good dessert was and that neither of them felt remotely guilty about the fact that the respective partners were going to get none of it.

Mark was about to change that.

“I’m glad you decided to pass some time with me.”

“I was looking forward to it.”

“I don’t know you. Not really. I think I felt at first that I had to dive into everything headfirst, but…I can’t. Not where you’re concerned, anyway, and just because you happen to be involved with Damien, I don’t assume you’re up for anything just because he says.”

“Rebecca and I…we’re different than other people who…work for Damien. Not for your family but who are there for Damien.”

“Like Paul.”

“Exactly.”

“I mean Richard pays his salary, but he treats Damien differently…though I am fuzzy on the details.”

A sly smile curled the corners of her mouth and Mark could have jumped the table to fuck her then and there.

“And you’ll get no details from me. You know how persuasive your cousin can be. You also know that Damien isn’t averse to having people do things that they might not be comfortable with doing.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not how it is with Rebecca and me. We may not have many hard limits, but we do have them, and he’s never pushed us to do things that we didn’t want to do. If he wants something and we can’t provide it, we are very good at finding someone who will do it for him.”

“I also owe you an apology.”

“How so?”

“The night of the dinner party…the dinner party with the four of us…I told Damien that he could do better than the help.”

“Mark…”

He shook his head. “That’s not how my father raised me. I was taught that people are people and that how I treated someone reflected on him. Yes, we’re privileged, but that also means that what is expected of us is better behaviour, not worse. The fact that you’re not the help doesn’t matter. I was jealous of the fact that you and Rebecca were involved with him. I get it now, it’s stupid, but then…I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t necessary, but I accept your apology. I have a question. When Damien said you’d make her proud, who’s her?”

“That’s right. You and Rebecca arrived here after she passed. If there is a God of Cooking and Baking, Clara Cartwright was it. She worked for Richard’s father, so that will give you some idea of how old she was. She never married or had kids. There was no meal she couldn’t prepare. From the absolute simplest thing, like green bean casserole, to a meal fit to be served in Buckingham Palace, she could do it all.

“She’d go away for part of the summer. Richard would send her, all expenses paid, to whatever part of the world she had taken an interest in. She’d come back being able to cook the dishes as if she had been born there. As a family we demand the best, food-wise, not because we’re rich, though that allows us to get the best. She never settled for second best. Used only authentic ingredients and never deviated a smitch from the recipe if it came from another culture. She’d always say switching ingredients is disrespectful to the people who may have fought for their right to cook their food their way.”

“And you helped her?”

Mark laughed. “Sometimes. Mostly with barbeques and flipping burgers. Though even at the age of six, I made a mean chocolate chip cookie, and I still do. Damien does not have the patience…especially for baking.”

“To Clara Cartwright. She’d be proud of you.”

“To Clara.” He raised his cup with hers.

“Well, the entire night is in front of us. I don’t mind spending it chatting, if you don’t. Though, if you believe Rebecca, she’ll tell you it’s maddening talking to me because I don’t shut up.”

“Well, we all go a little mad sometimes. What?” He resisted the urge to move his hand up to his face, in case a bit of stray cheesecake clung onto his chin because she was looking at him so intently.

“Did you just quote…Psycho to me…did you just quote Norman Bates?”

“A boy’s best friend is his mother. I love horror movies. You didn’t know that?”

“I would never have guessed. Damien always says…”

“…there’s too much horror in the world, already…”

“…why do you want to watch horror? I don’t think he gets it can be quite cathartic. Favourite?”

“More like favourites. I’ve tried and I can’t just pick one. If I have to be stuck on a deserted island with one comedy, it’s Hot Fuzz, no questions asked. But since I’ve been eleven, when I saw it for the first time, Night of the Living Dead has never left the top two. I do like a good vampire pic, though.”

“I adore vampires, but Night of the Living Dead has to be in my top five of favourites”

The thought of Nadja, her short, dark hair framing her pale face, fangs just visible through slightly parted red lips was enough to make the blood rush to places he didn’t want it to go right now.

“Come with me.”

As a family, or even with him and Damien, they mostly watched movies in the family room. But there was a screening room that had originally been used before the days of digital when someone from Thorn would drive over an actual film for Richard to watch on days where he had decided to work from home.

It had been at his and Damien’s insistence that they get more real movies, especially ones not aimed at someone his father’s age. Growing up, there were DVDs, but they had loved to pretend to go to the movies, having someone make them popcorn and take soda and snacks downstairs and sit and watch whatever they had wanted.

While Damien occasionally joined him, it was he who had continued buying actual films to enjoy and add to his growing collection. He had been the one to replace old movie seats with the new recliners that now sat in most theatres.  He often invited friends over and they would watch new movies that, while using his family’s name, were often still in theatres.

The movies were kept in a room with temperature and humidity control.

“I’ve always loved scary. When we were little, the witch in the Wizard of Oz scared the shit out of Damien. He used to climb onto Anne’s lap and bury his face into her neck whenever the Witch came on the screen.”

“Poor Margaret Hamilton. The countless nightmares that women still must cause.”

He handed her a binder. “I’ve got one hundred and six movies, mostly horror. Richard has a few. Damien’s never brought you here to watch something?”

“Not often. We did watch High Noon.”

“That’s one of his favourite movies…and Richard’s.”

“He’s not quite the cinephile you are.”

He smiled. “Not anywhere near. So, what did you have in mind?”

“How about we each pick one and then find a third we can both agree on. My vote for is for the 1979 version of Dracula.”

“Langella over Lugosi. Can’t say I blame you. Alright. I’m going with the man and the movie that started an entire genre of horror films…‘they’re coming to get you, Barbra.’”

“There will be snacks involved?”

“What kind of host am I? Hang on to that.” He tapped the binder. “And we can decide as we pop the corn and so forth.”

In the kitchen, Mark got a box of popcorn and opened a bag and put it in the microwave as she went through the pantry and found boxes of Junior Mints, Swedish Fish, and whatever else the pair of them decided they wanted. Mark brought cans of soda down and when he came up, she was dumping the full bag of popcorn into a bowl and getting another one ready to prepare.

He dashed upstairs into the linen closet and grabbed two blankets. He came back down just as she happened to be bending over to find another bowl for the popcorn. She had worn ankle length pants that fit her extremely well, hugging every inch of her hips and ass. He could see no panty line and wondered what colour thong she was wearing and if it matched her bra.

“Like what you see?"

“Is that a real question? Because yes.”

“All in good time, my pretty, all in good time.”

“If the Wicked Witch of the West looked like you, I’d be watching that movie for an entirely different reason these days. We can always come back up in between movies. I got some blankets. It can get chilly down there. Did you decide on a third choice?”

“I see Pearl’s on the list.”

“Something modern. Sold. Do we need anything else?”

“I’m good.”

Mark grabbed the two bowls, while she held all the candy, and each had thrown a blanket over their shoulder. They headed back downstairs.

“I can’t remember the last time I was this excited to be down here.”

“Movies are a communal experience. It kind of sucks watching them on your own. I’ve never seen anyone load a film onto the reels and so on.”

“Damien…honestly.”

The projection room was up a few stairs and relatively small. She had come up with Dracula and would switch it out for his pick once it was over. He handed her the film reel.

“Here.”

“Really?”

“Take it and put it onto the spindle. You can give it a push. You won’t break it.”

He guided her until he switched on the projector and both reels began moving. Shortly, the familiar Universal logo came up. The pair of them hurried to their seats. Mark sat first and she took the seat next to him.

“At least we can talk and not annoy anyone.”

“You’re not one of those people, are you?”

For a second, it was like she channeled Rebecca because she had turned serious so fast.

“Nope. Not me.”

“We can talk after. I’m having a wonderful time, Mark. I want you to know that.”

“I’m glad.”

He wore a big grin as he sat back and joined her in extending the recliner, and it didn’t take long until Count Dracula, Carfax Abbey, and Mina and Lucy transported him to Yorkshire, 1913…

Chapter Text

It was two in the morning when they decided to call it quits.

Mark stretched. “I’m pretty tired.”

“That makes two of us. I say that a time was had.”

He smiled at her. “I agree, and I’d love to do it again.”

“I had such a good time, it’s a shame it has to come to an end.”

“What did you have in mind?” He already knew that there were rules in place, so anything sexual happening was off the table.

“How about a sleep over? In my room.”

“I’m in. But fair warning? Hair braiding was not a skill taught at Davidson.”

“I’ll accept that. For now.”

Mark didn’t doubt for a minute that she was serious.

“My room first? I can get changed and brush my teeth and so on?”

The trio, for Carl had now rejoined them after they had let him out, went around downstairs shutting off lights and made their way up the stairs and they stopped at his closed door.

“I’m not the person whose room this is…was…this isn’t me anymore.”

She smiled and warmth flared in his gut.

“I’m not going to judge. We are who we are.”

He opened the door. As usual, Carl came in, sniffing the carpet, and then jumped up onto his bed, laying down with a sigh.

“Don’t get too comfortable. We’ve been invited to a sleep…shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I was running around all day…office…grocery store…the kitchen making dinner. I meant to shower, but…”

“I’d let you know if you needed one.”

She was as casually dressed as he was, but…she was a girl and right now, in her presence, with her cute outfit, polished nails, and gleaming hair, he felt like a grimy boy who had stayed out all day playing in the dirt.

“Just a few minutes. Scout’s honour.” He held up his three fingers in the salute.

“How about this. While you take your shower, I’ll make my room ready for a visitor.”

He went to his dresser and found a pair of sleeping shorts and a T-shirt. “You can’t be that messy.”

She snorted with laughter.

“If it’s ever in a semblance of neatness it’s because Rebecca threatens me with fates worse than.”

“I’ll see you in a few, then.”

“I’ll be waiting with bells on. Come on, Carl.”

She closed the door behind them, and he went into his bathroom, his nightclothes in hand, and shut the door. He put his shorts and T-shirt on the bathroom counter and quickly set the temperature for the water, making it on the warm side. He stripped naked and stepped into the shower. Out of sheer habit, even though he hadn’t planned on it, he let the shower soak his hair.

The evening had gone better than Mark could ever have imagined. They had chatted between films; between trips to the bathroom; getting more snacks; or letting Carl out. They shared some of the same ideas about the movies, and she had given him things to think about that he hadn’t considered.

Several times while they had been watching the movies, he had looked over at her.

From the moment she had entered the house he had noticed her. Her tits, ass, hips…the way she pouted. Her girlish giggle. That, combined with the few times before all of this started, that he had seen her out of more her more formal work attire and in “regular” clothing…that very short green dress, which is where the nickname Tinkerbell had come from, had made him want her in the worst way.

He didn’t think old age or senility could ever erase the sight of her being fucked at the edge of the bed, Damien holding onto her hips and driving himself into her like a jack hammer.

But now…it was the way she crinkled her nose when she laughed. How she had savored every bite of her cheesecake, how she absentmindedly twirled her finger in her hair, or how she had sometimes watched the movies with her legs over the side of the recliner when she wasn’t reclining. They hadn’t even gotten halfway through Dracula before he found himself wishing they were cuddling together in the family room.

He smirked.

Be honest, Mark, it’s all those other attributes too…wasn’t her stunning sense of humor you were looking at when she was bent over, or when she was leaving the room just now…

He had anticipated being in and out of the shower very quickly; it seemed his body had other plans as he looked down to find himself hard as the proverbial rock.

He put his forearm against the cool tile and rested his head against it. He slowly moved his hand down his chest, enjoying the feeling of his skin under his fingers…down, into the dark patch of hair and then he ran his hand up and down the shaft…reveling in the hardness he felt…teasing himself. He would actually have liked to take his time, but he was on the clock, and he didn’t want her to change her mind about him sleeping with her.

He had never spent time thinking about the perfect someone to date…or marry. He knew someday, he’d have to bite the bullet and do it, but he assumed he’d figure it out eventually. It wasn’t until he realized he was in love with Damien that he had imagined marrying anyone.

And now, seemingly, while he wasn’t sure about marrying her, he was certain he had found someone he’d be very happy dating.

Nadja didn’t look like any of the girls whom he knew…no one who had been in his classes, none of his friends, or sisters of his friends. She definitely did not look like the country club girls, who looked like they’d be blown over in a strong breeze.

She had the classic hour-glass figure…to say she could fill out articles of clothing was a vast understatement. He always liked to imagine her partially clothed, especially in tight fitting T-shirts, very short ones, so that her breasts were slightly visible from the bottom of the shirt. Right now, though…

The pair of them wrapped up around each other like vipers…the pounding of her heart against his chest.  

His hands were under her red top, his thumb tracing over her hardened nipple, enjoying the feeling of the material of her lace bra. He was naked, but she still had on her under things.

His hand moved down to her hip, fingertips at first gently playing over her skin, then he pulled her tighter against him.  

“Mark…”  

Off came her T-shirt, and his mouth was on part of her breast that was exposed over the top of the dark red lace.  

“You’re so hard; I’m so wet. I wonder what we can do to make the both of us feel so much fucking better.”  

That pout that smirk…his mouth was on hers…her hand down his front, kneading his cock.  

(He stroked a little faster; grasped himself harder) 

“I bet you taste like candy.”  

He had whispered it into her ear.  

“Only one way to find out…”  

He ran his hand down her stomach, playing at the top of her panties, and then he eased his hand inside, finding her bare and then she gasped as he parted her lips.  

“Mark!”  

Her wetness was like the finest silk his fingers had ever touched and he brought his hand back up, bringing it to his mouth, and with his own smirk, reached out and licked the juices that were there.  

“Let’s make sure we get it all.”  

She reached out, helping him, her tongue flicking out and touching his, until she took his hand and put his fingers into her mouth, sucking, pulling, never taking her eyes off of him.  

She brought him to her, her face buried in his neck and…  

(She’ll give him a hickey and tell him that she’s marked him. A image flashes into his head. He takes it. Possesses it. Makes it his own). 

Teeth, sharp, pointed, graze his skin.  

“I’m going to see what you taste like, Mark. Would you like that?”

“God, yes.”  

The most exquisite pain he has ever felt moves through him as she bites into his flesh. The feeling of his blood spilling out onto himself, tingling against his flesh as she cannot not catch all of it in her mouth. The sound of her drinking, his life disappearing down her throat.  

“Taste you.”  

She moves her mouth on top of his…  

Copper, iron, tang, as it sits on his lips and he kisses her back, hard and fierce as he laps up his own blood of off her mouth.  

“Nadja.”  

“Come with me, Mark. Come with us.”  

He pulls her close to him, her mouth on his.  

“Yes.”  

And is he is consumed as she drowns him in red…  

“Fuck…”

He worked his cock hard, aware of the building of the pleasure that wanted to be set free. How had he done this before Damien? How had he fucked himself and not enjoyed every part of it?

“Nadja…”

Three times he stroked himself before he let himself come as an exquisite orgasm shook his body and curled his toes against the slick porcelain, and he spilled himself onto the shower cubicle floor. It seemed a waste and he had wanted nothing more than for Damien or Nadja to be there with him…or, better yet, both of them.

“Much better.” He relaxed, rolled his shoulders forward and back, and took a few deep breaths under the hot water before reaching down and turning off the shower. At the sink, he wiped the steam from the mirror and regarded his reflection.

He realized and accepted how much the thought of her…darkness turned him on. It was there in Rebecca and Damien too, but with Nadja, he wondered if it was the fact that that her darkness was combined with, or perhaps disguised by, cuteness…when she pouted…fuck…he wanted her right then and there.

It was obvious that both Damien and Rebecca had a side to them that you would not want to cross, and with Rebecca, perhaps because she was a woman and had to prove herself many times over, she wore it like a badge of honour—fuck around and find out might as well be a sign that hung over her head.

But Nadja…she was dangerous if you knew how to look for it, and Mark realized some of the times that he had spotted it: people who mouthed off about the Thorns…people who said shit about Damien. A contained blood lust sat behind her grey eyes and begged to be let out. But she would stifle herself and move on and he wondered if that person who had bitched about the rampant nepotism at Thorn, or how they could do a better job there than Damien could, knew how close they had come to having their heart ripped out and handed back to them after she had taken a bite out of it.

He wanted that darkness. He had no idea what he would do with it, but he wanted it, and he wanted it in whatever size shoes she wore and whatever bra size her gorgeous tits fit into.

He tilted up his chin, his eyes catching the light from above the mirror.

He was not only good looking, he was a fucking smoke show. Blond haired, amber-eyed, a good body that he was going to take to improving at Yale. He knew that he was the sexual fantasy of many straight women, but he didn’t care. He did, however, understand his strengths and he had every intention of not only of stepping into them but seizing them by the throat and making them his bitch.

He picked up the hair dryer. He was fairly certain Nadja wouldn’t appreciate his soaking wet hair on her pillow. Once his hair was dry, he quickly threw on his sleeping attire. He paused and grabbed dental floss and his toothbrush. He shut off the light in his room and made his way across the house.

Damien’s room was quiet, as was Rebecca’s. Her room was around a corner where she was alone because it was the only room nestled by itself.

He knocked gently even though the door was ajar. “Hello?”

“Enter.”

He had never been in either of their rooms, so he wasn’t sure what to expect when he pushed open the door, but he smiled as he stepped inside.

“I wouldn’t have expected anything less.”

Her room was black and pink and heavily inspired by gothic décor. Not so many nicknacks and tchotchkes, slightly more modern as it were. If Damien’s room was all business, then her room was all personal, her quirks and eccentricities out on display for all to see.

There was a curio cabinet with dolls inside of it, and each was supported on stands, a piece of plastic around the waist to hold it up. As she came over to where he now stood examining one doll in particular, he realized that she had showered. She smelled like cherry and vanilla, and he could have devoured her like he had earlier devoured the cheesecake. Like him, she had gone with sleep shorts, but her choice consisted of black bottoms with a red tank top…and no bra.

“Is this Barbie?”

“No. These are Monster High dolls. The one you’re holding is Draculaura. In the Monster High universe, she’s Dracula’s daughter. As you can see, she’s the inspiration for the room.”

There were a few other kinds of the same doll, including one still in the box, a top hat on her head, and an umbrella, and she had very long lashes. It was obviously some kind of collector’s piece.

“Is that you?”

There was a framed photo of her, dressed as Draculaura, along with some other girls who were dressed as the other dolls that were on display. She was the hottest one there.

“It is. I didn’t know them. It was at a con. We got someone to take our picture.”

“Like a convention?”

“Exactly like a convention.”

“Wig?” In the photo, her head was half pink and half black, resembling the hair on the doll.

“Nope, that’s all me.”

“I’ve never seen you like that."

“In case you haven’t noticed, your father is somewhat conservative.”

He smiled and looked at her. “In case you haven’t noticed, my father isn’t here.”

There was a glint in her eye and Mark could see wheels turning. “I’m ready for bed…if you are. I don’t know if you read or…”

“Not tonight. I didn’t brush my teeth, though.”

He followed her to the bathroom. “I thought we could do our bedtime ablutions together.” He held up his toothbrush and floss.

“I like that. You first. Don’t leave anything in the sink or Rebecca will have my hide. And not in a fun way.”

He unwound a length of floss onto his fingers and then got to it, working the waxy string between his teeth.

“Since we’ve shared so much this evening, I think it’s only fair to tell you that I have a hidden agenda in regard to being here. Yes, I’m here for Damien, but I’m also here because if I had my way, I’d eventually be running your family’s museum.”

He turned and looked at her. He could have tried to engage in the conversation, but speeding through the chore made more sense.

“Warren long ago stopped understanding what it takes to bring people in. He’s old. You can’t just have dinosaur bones on display anymore. Or push a button at an exhibit and have some anonymous voice tell you a bunch of shitty facts. You have to compete with the internet and he’s just not doing that. Attendance is down and it’s been going down for years. There’s a world of technology and advancements that are available that he isn’t using.”

He didn’t bother asking how she knew attendance was down; if she said it was, it was. He picked up his toothbrush, put a strip of paste on it, and turned to her.

“You may have to thumb wrestle me for it.”

He quickly put the toothbrush in his mouth and went to work brushing his teeth. He could drop a bomb, too.

“You are full of surprises tonight, Mr. Thorn.”

He was probably quicker at it than he normally was. He took one of the paper cups, filled it twice with water and swished until he felt enough of the goop was out of his mouth and then spat it out. He leaned down and splashed some water on his face to get off whatever paste remained. He tossed some water around the basin to get it as clean as he could. He used the towel to dry his face.

“Milady.”

They traded places, and he took up her place leaning against the frame, and he watched as she took her own length of floss.

“At least up until all of…this started. I never wanted to so much as work in the copy room at Thorn, let alone run the place. I’ve always told my father, it’s Damien. I think some of that was thinking I had to be like them. But I’m me. I have to do things my way or…like…what’s the point of me?

“Today, Paul Buher overstepped himself and forgot who pays him and whose name is on the side of the building. I put him in his place, and it felt fucking great. I want to know how everything is run, and for my father, and Damien, to know that if I had to, I’d be ready to step in.

“My dream job is to run the museum. You’re right. The place is an afterthought. We have the opportunity to be the best museum, quite frankly, on the face of the planet. I’m a Thorn. I want the best of both worlds and fuck me dead if I don’t intend to make it happen.”

She now had moved on to the brushing and Mark was doing his best to not pay attention to her tits in that tank top…and failing miserably.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

She shrugged.

“How do you feel about a trip into the city?”

“I feel okay about that.”

“I have an appointment at Benedict’s. It’s a new men’s shop. They jumped at the chance to dress a Thorn. Told them I was looking for something that wasn’t my father and wasn’t Damien.”

By this time, she had spit out what was in her mouth and stood looking at him  Some of the toothpaste still clung to her lips and he wanted nothing more than to lick it off.

“You want me to help dress you? Yes?”

“Yes. I trust your judgement. I know you’ll help me with find a look that will walk the line between tasteful and edgy.”

“Let Rebecca eat her fucking heart out. Do you have any idea how many times we’ve gone into your room and “redecorated” it? Or redesigned your entire wardrobe? She always thought she’d be the go-to.”

“Why would I ask Rebecca? I’d only end up looking like the very people I’m trying not to look like. Then, we find the best salon in town, and you go crazy with your hair. If it matters, I do like the black and pink.”

“Are you suggesting that you use your power and influence to infiltrate a salon, one where you have to book an appointment months in advance, simply so we can pay a huge sum of money to jump the line and piss people off all so I can look fabulous?”

“Absofuckinglutely.”

“You’re lucky Damien has rules and his are the ones I never break. Oh! I know a great, greasy dive. Makes the best burgers and shakes. And it matters.”

“You buy me lunch if you let me buy you dinner.”

“It sounds like a date.”

She washed her face, and they both turned to leave to go to bed when he noticed a framed picture on a dresser, and in the photo was a young girl. It was obviously summer because she stood there in a one-piece bathing suit. A skinny girl with a gapped-tooth grin, a grape popsicle in her hand melting in the heat of the sun. He was about to ask who it was, but the bob, this time much shorter, gave it away.

“Yes, it’s me, and that is a story for a very different day, but, like I said, we are who we are.”

The pair of them made it to the bed and he let her get in first. Thankfully, she liked the same side of the bed as Damien. They left their bedside lamps on, and she turned to face him. The pair of them were now up on their elbows.

“It was a wonderful night, and I never had a doubt that it wouldn’t be.”

“I’m glad. We’ll have fun tomorrow.” He paused. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the moment you walked into this house. Then, it was, well, your lovely…assets, and they still are, trust me. Now…I know you a little better. I’d like to think I know you well enough to brighten your day…make you smile. Make you feel better if you’re feeling off.”

“I’m excited about our time together, Mark, and I do mean sex. The thought of us being alone and you doing all manner of perverse things to my body drenches my panties. I’ve thought about you while being with both Rebecca and Damien, and, of course, while I’ve been on my own. I do very much enjoy the thought of us making love.

“That’s impressive company; I plan on being equal to the challenge.”

“Also? If I want us to curl up together in the family room and have a quiet night in, I just have to put on Night of the Living Dead and you’re all mine. I know if I want my way in something, I just have to bribe you with some peach cobbler, and I’m probably not the first one to tell you that you have an unnatural obsession with white gummy bears.”

“Yes, a few people have pointed it out.”

“I hope you understand you’re not new.  This was just a side of you that needed some…polishing.”

She reached over and moved the hair that had fallen onto his forehead.

“Tinkerbell.”

“Shh! Don’t you say that. She’ll hear you. I don’t care if you think she’s sleeping, she’ll hear you. Let’s just keep that nickname on the very down and the very low, shall we?”

“Maybe before. I don’t mean to be offensive, but is there some kind of dark fairy?”

“It’s not offensive; it’s high praise, so thank you.”

“An…AntiTinkerbell?”

“You are so much closer than you realize, Mark. Do you know that?”

It was a profound thing for her to say. He could feel it from her, but…he knew much like why Paul chose to help Damien, the reason for it would stay hidden for now.

“There’s Maleficent...”

He shook his head. “Someone she knew and trusted drugged and violated her. No thanks.”

“Then, it’s something we come up with together.”

He looked into her grey eyes…eyes the colour of mist that promised to steal you away to a far-off place and never bring you back…

“I got myself off in the shower thinking of you.”

“I came three times, Mark. My favourite was thinking about your mouth wrapped around my cunt.”

“You’re also killing me in that tank top.” He gave her what he hoped was a wicked grin. “Not that I mind. We all have to go sometime.”

“That’s the point. I like being a tease.”

“I like you being a tease, too. Men aren’t…you haven’t been…”

“Of course they have, and I have. The ones who’ve tried very quickly regretted it.”

“Well, they can all go fuck themselves…preferably to death.” He needed to break the tension. He cocked his eyebrow and stared intently at her. “Listen to them. The children of the night. What music they make.”

She shook with laughter. “Is that your Bela Lugosi?”

“Needs work I guess.”

There was a pause and Mark hoped that under different circumstances, that pause would lead to kissing.

“Well, it’s either very late or very early and very shortly, I have Rebecca’s face to rub in the fact that you picked moi to help you become the best you possible.”

She kissed his cheek, and he very quickly returned the gesture.

“See you in the morning.”

“Was all this room “rearranging” and wardrobe redesigning done before or after you fucked Rebecca in my bed?”

A red nail began tracing its way over his lips. A snake. Like the way she had slithered across the floor to come to him after Damien had finished fucking her.

“Mark, Mark, Mark.  Always business before pleasure. You sleep well.”

“I will and you, too.”

She turned over, reached up, and turned off the lamp. He reached up and turned his off, and soon there was peace, and quiet, and darkness. He let out a contented sigh. He also felt the bed shake as Carl jumped up and lay down at the foot of the bed.

He turned to face her and was now looking at the back of her head. He had come to two realizations tonight.

One, he was a creature of sensuous pleasures, and, truthfully, he had always been. A comfy spot on the couch; cold ice cream on a hot day; clothes fresh from the dryer on a cold, winter morning. Now…he would just up the ante. He liked the thought of being in this very bed and having Rebecca, Damien, and Nadja lick warm honey off every square inch of his body. He was going to ask his cousin exactly where he got his very expensive grooming products from and see if he could find something he liked.

Two. There was something about the darkness in all of them that he found attractive.

No, Mark, darkness that you are actively attracted to. The three of them in that room together had been unbelievable, but…

The three of them in bed, wrapped around each other…Damien, sandwiched in between the pair of them…Damien’s face buried in Rebecca’s neck…Nadja’s mouth at Damien’s throat…you can almost taste the blood, can’t you?  

As he watched the rise and fall of her form as she slept, he realized something else…the warmth in his gut that he kept experiencing while they had spent the evening together were feelings for her. He had only ever had them with Damien. It surprisingly didn’t bother him, but he was going to have to talk to his cousin about it.

As he settled in, he realized it was no longer a case of feeling like he didn’t belong. Instead, he planned on keeping an open mind as to where he fit into it all, and with that thought in his head, he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

He was barely awake, already in a foul mood, and was now going to make himself feel worse by reaching behind him and discovering no Mark, even though Damien already knew there would be no one.

He had come home very late from work and had headed to Rebecca’s room. However, once their time together had finished, he had bid her goodnight and come back here to find that Mark had decided to spend the night with Nadja again. He also knew Rebecca was already gone this morning as well, so going next door would prove a futile endeavor.

“Fuck.”

He threw off the covers, sat up, and went to the bathroom. He had made the decision not to go into Thorn today, but as he stood there pissing, he was considering changing his mind and making his bad mood everyone else’s problem. Plus, he’d see Mark.

There was an itch under his skin that he could not get to, and he had been feeling it for a while. Activities with Nadja and Rebecca were fire, as always, and things with Mark were going more than according to plan.

Of course, while the pair of them were now experts in sucking each other’s cocks and jerking each other off, they still had not done the deed, and he had chalked up his crappy disposition to a horniness that would only be cured by his prick in Mark’s ass, and vice versa. Three days from now, there were plans afoot that only Armageddon itself would derail, and tomorrow night would be the aperitif to the main event.

He threw on a pair of silk lounge pants, a T-shirt and headed down to the kitchen to have some breakfast.

“Morning, Na…”

“Damien!”

She ran over and threw her arms around him, giving him a hug which he returned. She nuzzled into his neck, and he could feel her nip his flesh with her teeth.

“Miss me?” He returned the bite.

“It has been a while.”

“Yes, it has. Your hair.”

She spun with what he could only think of as girlish glee. Her hair was now half a very glossy black, while the other was very bright pink. It was also shorter.

“You got this done yesterday.”

“Do you like it!?”

“I love it on you.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re very happy…the evening with Mark went well?”

“Most definitely! You must be hungry. The food is almost done.”

This was better. Some company and being waited on. He sat as she brought him his coffee.

“Spill. I want details.” He added cream and sugar to the mug and took a drink. “Magic brown liquid makes things better.”

As she made them breakfast, she told him about the movies they had watched, and the sleepover they had had in her room. He stopped her when she told him that they had spent yesterday in the city.

“How’d it go?”

“He decided on four ready-made suits that fit him perfectly; they are being altered to make them fit more perfectly. We found two someplace else that we brought to them, and they were kind enough to agree to alter the suits. Mark was very generous with the monetary payment. All the dress shirts, and other sundry items we bought from them. Had to get his other clothing elsewhere; he’s nineteen, not thirty. I told them they may want to consider including casual clothing for younger men.”

“That’s all I get? No pictures?”

“That’s all you get, and he does look spectacular. But the best part? We booted someone out of their hair appointment at Locks because Mark threw his name, not to mention a shit ton of cash, at the woman and she called the client and lied about her mother being sick and now I look fucking fabulous.”

“Yes, you do. I’m glad you and Mark are together.”

“Did he say something to you?”

“No. I haven’t seen much of him in forty-eight hours and my cock is the worse for it.” He turned his to his dog, who was sitting at Nadja’s feet as she was finishing cooking their meal. “Come here.”

His dog looked at him and turned away.

“Hey. Come here, please.” He changed his tone so that his dog knew that he wasn’t mad at him, but he still didn’t budge.

“Carl.”

At hearing the name, his dog slowly made his way over, sniffing along the floor, seemingly taking his time getting to his absentee Master.

“I guess I haven’t seen you for a while. I’m sorry.”

The dog sat there and seemed to give him a look that said, prove it.

Damien got up and carefully picked a few slices of bacon out of the hot pan and put them on a plate and returned, taking a seat while he blew on the strips of meat.

“I’m not going into the office today. With how I’m feeling, people will lose jobs. We can go for a walk. Would you like that?”

He put his massive head on his knee.

“This is for you.”

All three pieces of bacon were devoured nearly instantly.

“Then how do you know he and I are “together?”

She had made actual air quotes when she had said the word.

“Seems obvious, doesn’t it? You spent nine hours watching movies, and then spent the night together. You were with each other literally all of yesterday, including another sleepover. Did Mark sit with you in the salon?”

She nodded at him.

“He’s never done anything with his hair. He was curious as to how she was going to get my hair to the shade of pink I wanted.”

“How long did it take?”

“Roughly three hours.”

He snorted. “Yeah, you’re a couple. Do you know what Mark would have to do for me to sit with him for three hours while he got his hair done? It starts with him nailing the nazarene to a cross.” He watched her continue to cook. “What would you say about our boy? How ready is he for things?”

“Sex wise?”

“A great place to start.”

“I think he’s up for nearly anything so long as it consensual. We talked when we got back from dinner last night. Gone is any trace of the person who couldn’t look me or Rebecca in the face. He’s open about sex, and he’s looking forward to all of us being together. He’s kept up his education in regard to anything that he was unsure about when it came to sex, or sexuality. I told him not to expect anything too complex the first time all of us are together; that it was mostly just to help him be comfortable. And, of course, that the three of us are looking forward to it.”

“What about blood? Hang on.”

He got up and helped her bring the food to the table, along with more coffee.

“Allow me.”

He put food on her plate and then his and they sat and ate. There was silence for a bit as grumbling stomachs were placated, and Carl got thrown the more than occasional piece of bacon.

“We chatted in between the movies, which was lovely. Apart from any other discussion that it would lead to, one of the reasons that I chose Dracula was that the blood drinking is an easy topic to bring up without it being weird. He did find the whole scene between Lucy and Dracula highly erotic and a huge turn-on.”

“Lucy? I read Dracula. Doesn’t he make Mina his paramour?”

“In in this version he fucks Lucy, drinks from her and she from him. It’s delicious. Why would you ever want Jonathan Harker when you could have Count Dracula who looks like Frank Langella. I am going to be the wet blanket, however, and say that there is a difference between seeing and doing. I don’t think, though, that us…partaking is going to bother him. And hey. Why did you never mention that he loves horror movies? Jerk.” She picked up her napkin and threw it at him.

“I guess I never thought about it. Sorry. You also, up until very recently, were not spending much time with him.”

“This is where I might be more than a tad disappointing to you.”

“Never gonna happen.”

“I know I usually have a good bead on people.”

“You do yourself an injustice. I’ve never known anyone else apart from myself who’s better at it.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“He asked me if there were any dark fairies, because that’s what he sees me as. Dark. Dear Satan, I could have fucked him right then and there when that came out of his gorgeous mouth. I think he’s always understood that you, me, and Rebecca are…kindred spirits. I think that’s why, at first, he didn’t think he fit in.”

“You think so?”

“He’s nineteen-years-old. If it was just sex, I don’t think he would have cared so much. But he understands that there is a connection with all of us. There is some dark inside of him. What it is, or what it means…sorry to be so vague.”

“No reason to apologize.”

“Since this all began, I’ve been paying attention to him, and while I’ve learned some new things, it mostly just reaffirmed what I already knew. The Mark you see, someone who is kind, sweet, caring, and loyal, is the Mark that he is, so him having a touch of darkness inside of him isn’t about being “evil,” and he’s not like some people who come to you wanting Satanism to excuse bad behaviour. He never gave any indication when he was younger that he was different?”

“No. He’s always loved horror, though, and he’s always loved the monster. He was never terrified of the witch in The Wizard of Oz, like I was.”

“Considering you turned out to the Antichrist, that might not be the best metric by which to judge. How did Mark treat anyone who stood out in any way?”

“He’s never tolerated people being assholes. He’s told me off more than once for being insensitive and saying things that I shouldn’t. It’s one of the only times I’ve seen him throw hands. He also defended himself when Teddy hit him. He’s not afraid to get violent to protect himself or others. Sound familiar?”

“He’s just scratched the surface when it comes to himself. Looks, clothes, money, sex appeal, what he wants out of life…he’s finally figured that out; and that’s the easy part. It wasn’t so long ago that he thought the only kind of fuck he’d get was of the pity variety. He knows his worth and that’s a good start. But he’s never questioned past that…what truly makes him tick.”

“Well, maybe, tomorrow might be the chance he needs to work that out.”

She got up, came over, straddled him, and sat. She was wearing sleep shorts and a tank top.

“I get him tomorrow?”

“Is my sweet Nadja drenched at the thought?”

“I was drenched when you walked into the kitchen.”

He removed her shirt, pulled her close, took her right nipple in his mouth and sucked hard, biting the inside of her breast.

“Damien…”

Her hands were in his hair.

“You both can jerk him off, suck his cock, and lock lips. That’s as far as I’ve gone with him. He’s gets to return the favour, body parts being what they are.”

“What does that mean?” She blinked innocently at him.

“It means, you absolute harlot, he’s free to eat your cunt like it’s the delicious candy that it is. He may also take his fingers and work that little jewel of yours until you scream his name, and he’s given me an appreciation for making out, in case you’re wondering what kind of kisser he is.”

“I want more descriptive language than that.”

“Well, I do have the day to myself. Can’t spend it all walking Carl.”

“You called him Carl…”

“He seems to like it.”

“Not quite feeling yourself, mon amor?”

“You could say that. I have a suspicion that I might be on the road to recovery very shortly.”

“Really!?”

“Three days in Wisconsin at the summer/winter house.”

“I’m so happy!”

She hugged him hard.

“The best times of our lives happened there. I can’t think of a better place to pop both of our proverbial cherries than at the place where we spent our boyhoods, and don’t you tell him anything, or, when we come back, I’ll make you watch while Rebecca and I fuck him senseless.”

“You don’t think I’ve noticed your…being out of sorts? I pay very close attention to you, as well. Do you know what the problem is?”

“I assumed it was all the waiting with Mark, but I’m apparently going to be told different.”

“Poor Damien.”

She moved so that she was now sitting on his cock and began moving her hips, grinding against him. She also moved her mouth to his left ear.

“Surrounded by three people willing to do anything to make him happy and are so very…compliant with his every wish and command. Sometimes, however, what the Antichrist needs is someone very…not compliant in a very violent way. Such violence can often cause death. I know someone…I wonder if he does, too.”

She sat up straight and looked him in the eyes as she continued to move against him.

“You are a Goddess. Do you know that?” He picked up her hands and kissed them.

“Yes, I am and yes, I do.”

He smiled at her. “Lilith. That’s who he thinks of you as…even though he doesn’t know who she is. At least I don’t think he does.”

“Mmm, she threw over the so-called god for Satan after she rode Him like a beast.”

“Yes, she did. Queen of the jackals…demoness, succubus, and a dark fairy if ever there was one. Still cannot confirm whether this is factual. I believe you were grinding your very wet cunt against my cock.”

“I’m trying to get you hard. Is it working?”

“Absolutely.”

“Shower with me after?”

He took her hand and upstairs they went, going to his room. Inside, he took off his T-shirt and she began loosening the ties of his lounge pants as he made a call to someone whose number he had very nearly deleted. He used his skills to make sure that she told no one where she was going and that she should come alone, and that she should be there by eleven.  He then left a message for Paul and told him what time to send help.

She gave him her backside, and then bent over, slowly tugged her shorts down her thighs until she kicked them off of her feet. He smiled as she then turned and threw herself onto her bed, back first, her legs, pressed together and straight up in the air.

“Opened or closed?”

“Closed. I want to take my time seeing how lovely you are.”

He made his way to her on all fours, a smile on his face. He was feeling better already.

…666…  

He was sitting on the steps in the foyer waiting for her to come down, which she eventually did. He stood and whistled when he saw her.

“Thank you.”

Her dress was short, very pink, and reminded him of bubblegum. There was solid material underneath, but on top was lace. Rather than plunge down, the neckline of her dress went straight across. She had a darker pink belt that matched her handbag, with a pair of matching shoes in her hand, which she put on once she reached the bottom of the stairs.

She hardly looked like she was wearing make-up, which was no doubt what had taken her so long.

“Let’s see.”

He took her hand and twirled her; the skirt flared out, revealing dark pink lace panties underneath.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to wear them. I can take them off if it so pleases the Antichrist.”

“There’s a matching bra. Yes?”

“Of course.”

“Then it would be a fashion faux pas to break up such a delightful set. I shall, however, be demanding them as tribute tonight.”

“No usual hands off the night before a big threesome? Though I guess it’s foursome now.”

“The night before usually isn’t spent with me sexually violating someone to death. Besides, I want the three of us to not only discuss tomorrow night, but we need to burn off some energy. I don’t want things getting out of hand and have Mark freaking out…especially if blood will be involved. He, however, is going to receive a little visit from me later, and after I tease him, he will be forbidden to touch himself until tomorrow.”

“When would you like me back?”

“I told Paul everything was to be cleaned up by four, just in case Mark comes home early.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Phone, por favor.”

She did as she was asked and there it was.

“‘Hey, Draculaura!!!’ Three exclamation points. He’s excited. ‘I’ll be done earlier than expected…around twelve thirty. Don’t know what your plans are, but I’ll be half starved by then. I’d love your company for lunch. Was thinking The Green Room, but if that’s not to your liking, we can go elsewhere. Call a driver to pick you up and bring you here, and I’ll take us home. P.S. Paul is being extra respectful to me today. I suddenly find myself being fond of toadying. I’m very much looking forward to seeing you. Mark.’”

She had then texted Mark and told him that she would take a car and bring them home.

“It doesn’t prove anything.”

He handed her back her phone. “I know I say things about fucking him to tease you, but he’s a wonderful lover…kind, thoughtful, caring. He’s always making sure I’m okay and taken care of…that I had a good time. He’ll treat you like the Goddess that you are. He can jerk a cock like nobody’s business, and while that is more applicable to me than you, he was keen to learn exactly what got me off and he wants to be told what makes his partner satisfied.

“I’m happy for you both. Mark, who up until two weeks ago didn’t think he’d ever get a woman to give him the time of day, let alone enjoy spending time with him. And…I’m not sure what you’ve told him about younger you.”

“Nothing, yet. But he did notice the photo on the dresser.”

“The two of you together…I don’t think there’s a Thorn fundraiser coming up because I’d dress you both to the nines and watch jaws hit the floor while everyone questioned their heterosexuality looking at the pair of you.”

“Have fun.”

“I will. Don’t let those panties go to waste. If you see an opportunity to do it, flash Mark. I’m intrigued about how much he’d enjoy public sex. You’re my Lilith…my demoness and succubus and I’m happy to share you with him…or is he sharing you with me at this point?”

“You call me if anything comes up you need help with.”

“Thank you for that, but I won’t interrupt lunch when I can call Rebecca…and tell your boyfriend I said, hey.”

She rolled her eyes at him and made her way to the garage.

“You, Carl, are about to have something much more fun than just a healthy constitutional. What do you think about that?”

He barked and spun a few times, seemingly eager to get what he would get after it was all over.

“You wait upstairs, and I’ll call you when it’s time.”

He bolted up the stairs and went down the hall that led to Mark’s old room.

Damien went to the kitchen to make sure there were cookies, and some cake, which he cut up and put on a plate. He put on a fresh pot of coffee and prepared the cream and sugar. In the refrigerator, he made sure that there were bottles of Perrier and Evian. He also made sure that bottles of juice were handy.

The coffee machine beeped, and he allowed himself to shift to a very different mindset…a side to him that few, if any, survived. He allowed tendrils of violence to begin to unwind within him. He had a plan of how he wanted everything to go, and like with everything else, he would get what he wanted.

To further add to his enjoyment, he had long ago decided to play a game with himself. While he felt dark inside, the idea was that his victim should in no way, shape, or form know what was in store for them. He had learned how to be the most gracious of hosts that way. To make them feel very comfortable. He smiled. Until it was time to make them oh so very uncomfortable.

He was checking to see what other pastries there were when…

She’s here.

He went out to the foyer and checked his reflection in the mirror. When Nadja first brought up the idea, he hadn’t considered showering. After, and not just because they had had sex in there, he felt more together, and it seemed to add to the ritual of the whole experience. He had taken extra care while shaving, applying aftershave, and getting his hair just so, and the next time he planned something, he would try the showering beforehand to see if it added to the experience.

Tan cotton pants with a white long sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He felt relaxed and knew that if he was relaxed, she would be, too.

He had left his phone in his pocket, and it pinged.

Here.

One final glance at himself and he threw open the door, a genuine smile widening his mouth.

“Ramona.”

“Damien. I really don’t know why I agreed to come. You haven’t contacted me once in two weeks.”

He leaned against the frame of the door, all charm and sex. “Don’t be like that. Didn’t you have fun the last time you were here?”

“That’s beside the point.”

“I think the fun was the entire point. I think fun is always the entire point.”

He reached out with his left hand and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. While he was faking some things, the arousal he felt and reflected at her was not one of them. Of course, the reason for his arousal would not be obvious to her…not yet, anyway.

“I missed you, Damien.”

“Come out to the kitchen.”

She walked into the house, her hand grazing his midsection as she moved past him, heading off to her left.

“Step into my parlour.” He smirked as he closed the door behind her.

Chapter Text

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Sparking water, please.”

Damien went to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of Perrier and a lemon.

“So, how have you been spending your summer holidays ?”

“Hanging out. Not doing much of anything. I guess you must have heard by now that the Parkers are moving to California.”

He handed her her drink, now in a tasteful glass with a lemon wedge stuck onto the rim.

“Bottoms up. It’s going to be a job of work for Phillip trying to travel during the holidays.”

“Thank you. I’ve spent some time with Ava before she and her family are going to leave. My parents are visiting Italy at the end of this month, and I’ll be going with them.”

“Where abouts in Italy?”

“Not sure.”

“Let’s go into the living room.”

Damien had also grabbed a bottle of Perrier but kept his in the bottle. They sat on the sofa, facing each other, and were close enough so that they were touching. He felt a surge of electricity move up his leg.

It really has been too long…

“Did you hear me?”

“That was my bad.”

“I had asked why you didn’t call me.”

“I’ve been spending a lot of time at work. I won’t get the chance once Mark and I leave for Yale.”

“Yeah, but like who cares. If Richard decides to hand over Thorn to you and not Mark, it’ll be your company. You can be a slacker if you want.”

“But I don’t want. Hence, the spending of nearly fourteen hours yesterday downtown.”

“Huh.”

She was genuinely befuddled as to why anyone whose name was on the side of a building would put in actual effort into making sure the business inside that building ran as smoothly as it could. However, if that was the general consensus about how Thorn was run, it was no surprise how many uttered the word ‘nepotism’ under their breaths more times than he could count.

“Well, you’re here now, so we can make the best of it.”

“Very true. How is Mark?”

“Fantastic. But let’s focus on us.” He moved closer to her.

His right hand ran up the inside of her thigh, giving it a little pinch. While it hadn’t meant to be anything more than a playful act, even the little bit of pain she had experienced was enough to make his cock twitch.

“Damien…no more talking?”

She pouted.

“We can talk if you like. What about you? What are you going to do once you’re done school?”

He let his fingertips gently graze her leg.

“You’re not playing fair.”

“I never play fair.” He gave her a shark like grin.

“I don’t know. I still have next year to go. I’d maybe like to travel. Damien…”

With every pass he made, his hand disappeared farther up her skirt; he could feel her heat and want of him.

The tendrils of violence that had wended their way through him, helping him to steadily build towards a nice crescendo of escalating violence were now choking him, making it impossible for him to think about anything else.

He was imagining how slick with her own blood those thighs could become if he used the knife on that delicate skin that was now shuddering with enjoyment. His breath caught in his throat at the thought of how much they’d shudder with pain and fear.

“I’d like to go upstairs.”

Hold it together. Do not allow yourself to give up the reins of control to your wants.

“All right.”

It wasn’t enthusiastic. Her answer belied worry. If he said he wasn’t feeling well, and he wanted her to go, he’d be willing to bet he’d hear relief in her voice.

“I kicked you out rather abruptly last time. We have all the time in the world right now.”

Just get her to your room. You can do that. Just get her to your room and close the door. 

“Really?”

“Really.”

Do not let her lose that trust she has in you. Not yet.

He took her hand, but she led them up the stairs.

“It’s this way, isn’t it? The last time we were up here, it was nighttime.”

“It’s a nice sunny day outside. I’m going to be able to see everything now. We can leave the curtains open. No direct sunlight in my room, but nice and bright…

…to see the look of abject terror on your face as I use you any way I see fit.”

They had crossed into the other side of the house and each step for him was nearly as pained as when he had first walked into one of their churches. Inside, he let go of the breath that he had been holding in. His forehead was resting against the closed door.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t think I am…but, thanks to you, I very shortly will be. Did you ever want something so badly, it kept you up at night?” He reached down to the knob and turned the lock. His ability to regain control of the situation now lay at his feet, and he had zero desire to force anything back into a place where his restraint was in charge.

“I don’t know...”

“That’s how much I want Mark.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve wanted him since I was thirteen. Truthfully? I didn’t call you because, well, you don’t do it for me. That being said, besides work, Mark and I have been sucking each other’s cocks and jerking each other off, and it has been absolute paradise. But I’ve been saving the actual sexual intercourse for three days for now…at the summer house, and he and I are going to fuck each other until we can’t walk.”

“I think I’m going to…”

“I had thought that only Armageddon could postpone our time together, but I was oh so very was wrong about that. The nazarene himself could show up in Wisconsin, nails and wood in hand, and I would choose to be buried in Mark’s tight ass waiting to come. My Father might be peeved, but I’d take the consequences.”

“Damien…”

“The ladies have tried their best to make me feel better. They are beyond lovely, and the most faithful and loving disciples an Antichrist could ever ask for. Two gorgeous sisters who have given themselves to me to use as I wish, but we all use each other, and I would never violate them and destroy the gift of their service to me and to Satan. I have Nadja to thank for this. She likes pretty things and being absolutely railed, so I’m going to carve out your heart and give it to her before I and her sister spend tonight fucking her senseless.

“I really tried to take my time with you…enjoy the foreplay, but…with Mark, and everyone, including the sisters, in my life giving me everything that I want when I want it, I forgot I have needs that, well, need to be met and your rape and death are two one of those needs.”

She had made a run for it, but he caught her before she could get to the door.

“Sorry, but no. I’ve been out of sorts. I will not lose patience with Mark, nor Rebecca, nor Nadja. You’re the cure for that.”

Damien pushed her onto the bed, back first, and quickly straddled her, holding her arms over her head with his left hand while his right reached inside the bag on the bed; a cloth one that looked inconspicuous and non-threatening…Rebecca’s idea. From it he pulled out a rather small knife.

She had worn a tank top with spaghetti straps, and he used the knife to cut up through the tank top, ripping it open so that it now lay in two halves across her chest, exposing her bra, a lacy one comprised of very flimsy material. With a flick of the tip of the knife, her breasts, heaving with her gasping breathing, were now exposed.

Damien put as much pressure as he dared on the knife as he drew his hand along the flesh just above her left breast, deeper than he would ever cut Mark, Nadja, or Rebecca. If he had any intention of having her live, it would have necessitated a visit to the hospital. He also didn’t want her to bleed out here.

Her white skin turned vivid red and lowered his head and flicked out his tongue to sample the blood that was colouring everything it touched. A plastic tarp lay under two quilts, protecting the mattress from possibly being soaked.     

“Force makes it different. Did you know that? I can taste your fear, and it makes you taste so fucking good.”

The taste of her was in his mouth…the metallic tang that was seeping into him, making what was already a difficult task in the act of control a Herculean one. The more he tried to not think about downstairs, the more the thought kept pushing back and twice as hard.

He sat up and quickly unbuttoned his shirt, feeling the adrenaline pulsing through his veins, his fingers not wanting to obey him. He would not ripe open his shirt. He had already ceded much of what he envisioned to his wants; he would not allow himself to give up removing his shirt like a civilized person.

He stood up and she struggled off of the bed, but he grabbed her and held her around her waist while he quickly undid his shorts and removed them, along with his briefs.

Damien undid her skirt and pulled it down. He worked her panties down her thighs, to her ankles and he pulled them off and tossed them onto the floor; she was now again on the bed, on her back.

Normally, he wasn’t hard. No. Where was the fun in that? Tell them all the things he was going to do to them and let the violence to come do the work of making him ready…

He was iron…

Wait just wait…

But he was inside her; it was taking everything in him to keep going and not come once he began thrusting.

There would be no violating her anally. He had tasted her, and he couldn’t wait anymore. There would be time downstairs for a little bloodletting, and one more fuck, and the last copulation was always vaginally.

She was screaming and crying, but all Damien cared about was her heart pounding in her chest so hard, it was noticeable against her now red skin; it was beating a tattoo that had penetrated into his very soul and it that would stop until its call was answered.

You will count down from ten, then you may spill yourself inside of her…

Inside, he could see white numbers against a big, black, board…

10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…  

With a grunt and an extra hard thrust, he unceremoniously came, and he continued to move against her until he had completely spent himself.

He stood, reached down and grabbed her hand, pulling her until she sat up.

“Please…” 

There were no quips or witty words for him. She was standing and tried to break away. He grabbed her around the waist, and with her back against his front, he got them down the stairs.

At the foyer, Damien turned right and made his way to a door that, once again, he used his powers to make sure that no one remembered was there. Normally, the door was locked but knowing what the activity du jour was going to be, he had earlier unlocked it.

There were a few steps, and a small landing with another door, once again unlocked. Inside, there was a very short hall; to his left, a bathroom with a shower, to his right, the room the pair of them were now standing in.

It had not taken him long once he had begun engaging in sex that he realized that, sometimes, he needed more than even force provided. He needed death. To be the taker of life on a very intimate and personal level.

The room was tiled in white. The floor painted a very glossy grey that allowed for easy clean up. An autopsy table took up most of the space, along with cabinets and a counter along the back wall. A large mirror took up one entire wall from floor to ceiling and Damien was staring at his reflection as he held Ramona against him.

There was an instrument tray on a table; he reached down and picked up a scalpel. He knew it was sharp, and it would cut Ramona’s delicate skin like the proverbial hot knife through butter.

“I really am sorry that I’ve been so impatient. I can assure you that under normal circumstances, I take much better care of my playthings.”

He put a finger under her chin and lifted her head so that she was staring straight into the mirror, but her throat was not yet exposed.

Damien reached inside of her and forced the blood that was rushing through her carotid artery to pump harder and faster, building up high pressure in her neck. His eyes moved down her back until…he smirked.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

He slipped his foot between her legs, kicking at the sides of her calves until she widened her stance. He gently traced the blade along the length of her body, stopping only when he reached her the soft flesh of her inner thighs.

Two vertical cuts on each side and a curtain of red ran down each leg, pooling at her feet. She tried to get away, but she had no traction, her feet sliding in the puddle of blood.

“And satisfaction more than brought it back. You look lovely. I want you to know that.”

Damien leaned forward, biting her hard on her right shoulder, causing her to cry out.

“One more for the road.”

He pushed Ramona forward so that her front was resting on the table. One hand was on her upper back, the other on her hip and he was inside her again, thrusting, driving himself into her.

He held his reflection in the mirror. Nothing was happening the way that he wanted it to go, but…

“There are worse ways to spend an afternoon.”

A counting to ten, and he again allowed himself his climax before he pulled out. He stood up straight and with his arm around her, maneuvered her in front of the mirror…close, but not too close.

“Well, this is where you get off…after I did, of course. I can’t say I liked you, but you did provide a service, so thanks.”

All the while, he could taste her emotions…fear, anxiety, hate, love, despair…emotions that did not have names…she was beginning to shut down, succumbing to the inevitable, but Damien wasn’t going to allow her her peace just yet.

“You’ll also be providing a meal for all the critters who inhabit the woods. I’m sure they’d thank you if they could.”

Ideally, he would have taken longer and attempt to salvage what had been a less than perfect attempt to fulfil his needs, but he was on the clock, as it were.

“Well, Ramona, it’s been a slice.”

His left hand was in her hair, gathering it until he pulled his hand back, revealing her throat.

The next part came to him like water off a duck’s back, needing no thinking, only in-born muscle memory and the exacting touch of a skilled surgeon.

The scalpel gleamed in the overhead lights as Damien, starting below her left ear, drew it across her throat, the amount of pressure against her skin, beyond perfect to get the blood that was inside of her to do precisely what he wanted it to do. In an amount of time imperceivably small to the human brain, there was a red line across her neck before…

A fountain of red hit the mirror with enough force for it to make a sound, and as it landed, it somewhat calmed him and provided some order to the chaos within.

He was inside of her brain, controlling the flow of blood, making it come out with more force than it should have if gravity had had its way…keeping her alive for as long as possible…having her be aware of what was happening to her, even as every passing second diminished her physical and mental capacities.

But even he could only work so many miracles and the arm that was around her waist grasped tighter as her legs gave out from under her and Ramona passed from this world to the next.

Damien picked up her up, cradling her in his arms, and placed her on the table. He wiped his hands on a towel and sent a brief text letting Paul know it was all over but the shouting.

It was a short walk to the shower, and once he was under the water, extra hot and with enough force to pound on his back like a jackhammer, he allowed himself a moment of victory. He could have gotten hard if he had let himself, but his perfection got the better of him and he was dissecting what had gone wrong and all the ways he could have fixed it…

It took fifteen minutes for the unmarked van to turn up at the house and Damien greeted the driver, and the five others, in what he had chosen to put on that morning.

They moved around the rooms quickly and with precision. He followed the two who had dashed up the stairs to his bedroom, the pair gathering up Ramona’s clothing and her purse. Damien then joined the other four downstairs, watching as Ramona was cut into manageable pieces. They had brought their own tools and implements, but as he gave a glance at the cupboards and counters, he was remined that those were items that he had intended to purchase for himself.

Two men carried her body rolled up in a plastic tarp. With his boots now on, and dog in tow, he followed them out, far past the tastefully manicured lawns and gardens to the woods, where they unceremoniously dumped her body, turning on their heels and heading back to the house.

Damien squatted on his haunches, giving Carl some scratches behind his ears. “To the victor go the spoils?”

He gave a whine and a chuff.

“You first, and then you make it clear that they take her with them. Do we have a deal?”

The dog nudged his head against his thigh.

“I’ll assume that’s a yes. Lunch is served.”

While Carl took his share of what was left of Ramona, he turned his attention to the animals that inhabited the woods behind the massive Thorn manor. As a little boy, he often found that if he wasn’t with Mark, being out in the forest, communing with nature, was the only other time he was happy. Once he had found out who and what he was, it made sense that being part of the cycle of life and death spoke to his soul. He smirked. Not to mention that when the ladies had arrived, Nadja especially liked to have sex out here, listening to other creatures rutting or killing for their meals.

“Speaking of which…”

He had at first been frightened of the coyotes, but once he had accepted himself, and had learned to control his powers, had made fast friends with the larger four-legged inhabitants of the woods, including the wolves that would visit.

The animals who had survived several years in comfort behind his home knew the drill and for those who didn’t, he explained the rules, with Carl making sure that they understood the assignment.

Squirrels, chipmunks, ravens, crows, racoons, badgers, foxes, coyotes, even robins and sparrows ate and took with them what they could. In the end, what was left of Ramona was a ribcage and two femurs. If he was lucky, sometimes the wolves showed up and they could usually be counted on to take what the others could not but today was not his day.

They two men had left the blue tarp, and Damien quickly wrapped up what was left to take back to the house, where she would be taken away and disposed of. The cleaning crew would not leave until he had given the all-clear and they had passed his inspection of their work.

“Ready?”

The dog bounded in place, going down into a play-bow, clearly happy with his part in the festivities.

“At least someone thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Let’s go.”

Recriminations poked their jagged thoughts into his brain as he made his way back; he would deal with them later. For now, there was a bedroom to put right and a dinner that needed preparing and, he smiled, Mark would be home soon.

…666…  

“He wasn’t lying. He’s cooking dinner.”

“So, he is. What are we having?”

Mark slipped his arms around his waist, biting his earlobe before he planted a kiss on his neck.

“Mongolian Beef Noodles. I was in the mood.”

“Looks tasty. And so do you.”

He turned and smiled. The day had not gone the way he had planned, but simply being in his cousin’s presence made it all better.

“I missed you.”

He put his right arm around Mark’s back, careful not to get any of the garlic he was mincing on the very expensive jacket. Before Mark, he had always assumed kissing was a waste of time. Now…he liked nothing more than to be in bed, the pair of them wrapped around each other, making out like it was going out of style.

“I missed you, right back.”

“How was work?”

Mark picked up the bottle of beer that he had been drinking and took a pull.

“Fanfuckingtastic. Paul was falling all over himself to make me happy. I could have told him to jump off the roof and he would have. I spent the rest of the day with Nadja.”

“How did the evening with her go? Not to mention all the other time you’ve now spent in her company.”

He had not yet gotten Mark’s side of how his time with Nadja had gone, but if the pie-eyed expression and dopey grin were any indication, things with her had also gone, as he had just said, fanfuckingtastic.

“We watched movies, ate junk, had a sleepover in her room, we had some good conversations…. I went with her to the salon and waited while she got her hair done. It’s weird.”

“What is?”

“How she can go from being super cutesy and girly and then, on the turn of a dime, become someone you wouldn’t want to be alone with on a dark alley for all the money in the world.”

“What’s the weird part?

“That it’s a huge fucking turn on.”

Damien laughed. “That’s Nadja. How long did the hair appointment take?”

“I don’t know…a couple of hours.”

He had been working away this whole time, but stopped what he was doing to turn to look at his cousin. “Okay. I can’t anymore. You know you’re a couple, right?”

“With Nadja?”

“No, Mark, with the Queen of England. Yes, with Nadja. Tell me the name of one girl you’d sit with in a salon while it took her almost three hours to her hair done.”

Mark was silent. He took one step toward him. “Would you sit with me in a salon for three hours while I got my hair done?”

“I’m not sure why you’d…”

“The answer is no. You spent last night with her, too. Admit it, Mark, you’re her boyfriend. You already did basic boyfriend activity number, let’s call it three: sitting in the salon while your girlfriend gets her hair done.”

“Did she say anything…”

“She’s as tight lipped as you are.”

Damien watched as Rebecca appeared in the kitchen with her sister, who, after coming into the kitchen with Mark, had wondered off to find her sibling.

“The rumours are true.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, I’m cooking. It isn’t rocket science and I should know because my company does rocket science. Just because I didn’t bring the house down with my Beef Wellington, doesn’t mean that I didn’t learn to cook something else.”

“My day was fantastic; in case you’re wondering.”

Nadja had purred the statement into his left ear, her words dripping with enough desire to make him want to take her right then and there.

“Ah, yes.” He turned to face her. “My benefactor to whom I owe the passing of a delightful afternoon. I have something for you.”

She unfurled her hand, and he would have liked nothing more than to present her with what he had taken from Ramona.

“Later.”

He caught Rebecca’s eye as she was pouring herself a glass of wine.  

“I’ll see you both later.”

He kissed Mark’s cheek and with Nadja in hand, the pair of them made their way upstairs. There was the sound of what was clearly a man’s laugh, and then a sing-song voice...

“You called him Carl…”

“So, we’re acknowledging your dog has a name.”

“He ignores me otherwise. I blame Mark.”

“What happened today? This is the first time after a…violent assignation that you’ve not been completely clear headed and far more relaxed. It helped a bit, but…there was a problem.”

“Later?”

“I’m going to play Dominant with you, if I may.”

“Go for it.”

“Whatever was planned for tonight…I’m putting the kibosh on it. The three of us can have our time tomorrow. You, me, Nadja, and Mark will happen the day after that.”

She gave him a soft smile.

“You and he at the summer house?”

“That’s where I fell in love with him.”

“That’s beautiful, and you’ll both have fun. Make it four days, and if Paul has anything to say, he can talk to me. My idea is to have dinner, and then a quiet night watching a movie, or two. We send Nadja and Mark off to have another night together and I think you and I need one of our evenings.”

“Everything with Mark…I’ve slacked. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies necessary, gorgeous. I also think we need a conversation between the two of us as to what we do about…Romeo and Juliet.”

“I have ideas. I can share tonight. You will be bringing tea?”

“It would hardly be a you-and-me evening without tea, would it? Does that all sound copacetic to you?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I’m going to change, and I’ll be back to help.”

She kissed his cheek.

“You called him Carl…”

She left the kitchen echoing the sing-song voice that Mark had used as he had left with Nadja.

“Everyone has to be a fucking comedian.”

He tossed a piece of beef to Carl, who had not left his side once the meat had made an appearance. He stood there, still looking at the dog. He felt better. As far as he was concerned, he had failed earlier with Ramona, but it didn’t feel quite as bad as it had when he had stood with Carl as all the critters had helped to finish her off. He wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, or why he had was suddenly taken with the idea that he was in a better mood. He put the idea in the back of his brain; it would work itself out as the evening wore on.

He went back to mincing the garlic, thinking what movie he was going to suggest for that night’s entertainment…

…666…  

Damien stood in the doorway to Nadja’s room, leaning against the frame, his arms across his chest. Rebecca had at one point pulled her sister aside and told her that the usual post-violation fucking was postponed until tomorrow, and while somewhat disappointed, Nadja was in a much better mood when the idea was suggested that she and Mark spend their third night in a row together.

Rebecca joined him, dressed in a silk, navy blue, calf-length slip dress with a matching navy robe.

“What’s this?”

He shrugged. “Well, they’ve apparently already established some kind of nighttime ritual over the past two days. There is a movie tonight, in her room, and they are deciding between Creep and The Blackcoat’s Daughter. I’ll go out on a limb and say that those are horror movies. They’re now choosing snacks.”

“Huh. But they’re not involved with each other.”

“We’re not deaf, you know.”

He ignored Mark. “Definitely not. That wasn’t them snuggled up on the couch during the first movie, snugs as bugs in rugs being absolutely adorable.”

“You can both fuck off now.”

Nadja came over to him.

“You two besties have fun.” He had moved out of the way just in time as she slammed the door. “How rude. I guess we’re on our own.

“I’ll go make the tea.”

“I’ll go change.”

He had already taken a shower earlier, so he now grabbed a pair of navy silk pajamas and put them on. He was still trying to work out exactly what it was that had put him in a significantly better mood once all four of them had been together.

He went to work clearing the small table which had, all those years ago, served as the spot where she had introduced him to what had once been a nightly ritual of evening tea.

He didn’t have to look to see that she was here; he inhaled. “What is it?”

“Vanilla, honey, almond, white tea.”

“Smells delicious.”

He watched as she kicked the door closed behind her and brought the tray, which held a pot of tea, two cups, honey, and a small plate of cookies, and put it down in its usual spot.

“Allow me.”

He pulled out the chair for her, and once she was seated, he took his own seat.

“Has it steeped long enough?”

“We’ll give it more time.”

She wouldn’t prod him; she knew he’d start talking when he was ready. He sat in silence and then took a deep breath and exhaled hard.

“I failed today. Like, spectacularly failed. It went wrong right from the second she walked into the house. I should have just, I don’t know, fucked her right then and there. Maybe then I could tell myself that I just changed my mind. Funny. I can lie to people; guess I can’t lie to myself.”

“How do you think you failed?”

“I lost control…with everything. I took her upstairs too soon. Once I did that…it was like dominoes. Once she was upstairs, the sex started. Then everything…started and was over too fast…it all happened too fast. I couldn’t take my time.”

She was pouring their tea and handed him his cup and saucer, upon which two cookies were placed. Once she too had her drink, she put her feet up on his chair and he did the same with her.

“It really has been too long since we’ve done this…I’m…”

“Again, no need for an apology.”

“I know the why, and yet, it doesn’t seem like that’s enough for me to cut myself slack for not being able to keep my shit together.”

“Go on.”

“I’ve been so busy with work and preparing for school. Once all this with Mark started, that was my focus. Then there’s us. I enjoy the time the three of us spend together. I’m excited about including him into all of it.”

“As am I.”

“I had to stop and think how long it’s been since I had “me time.” Six months ago. That, apparently, is too long. It’s not like I have to be forced to do it. It’s something I can schedule and make sure I do on a regular basis. What?”

A smile had spread across her lips.

“You solved your own problem, Thorn.”

“I guess.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

He grudgingly allowed himself his own smile. “Very much, yes.”

“There you go. Plus, you learned a valuable lesson about keeping track of your needs. It’s a win win.”

He picked up her foot and began to massage it.

“Damien…”

“I know I suggested a conversation about what to do about our star-crossed lovers, but I’d like this time for us.”

“You will one hundred percent not get an argument from me. Fuck, that feels good.”

“And there’s this. I want us to go back to making this something regular. Not every night, but we can find a time that works for us.”

“I’d like that. There’s something else…”

“Yes, but I can’t figure out what. I felt markedly better when all of you came back.”

“There has to be more to it than that?”

“There doesn’t have to be, but there is.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Eventually, the tea and cookies were consumed and the pair of them washed up, brushed their teeth and headed to the bed.

“What did you get her?”

He smirked as he lifted the duvet and got under the cover, pulling it over himself. “Ramona’s heart; it’s in the freezer downstairs. There’s pretty little black box with some pink ribbon awaiting its contents.”

“The perfect gift for the perfect woman who has everything.”

“She’ll admire it some, and if she doesn’t feel like doing it, I’ll take it out back and let it go the way of the rest of the Ramona.”

Rebecca was now also under the covers and the pair of them were facing each other.

“Speaking of Nadja, there is another conversation with Mark that is going to have to be had.”

“I was thinking while he and I were away. If that’s okay with you. I’ll understand it you and she want to be present…”

“I’m fine with that.”

He reached out and stroked her face and spoke words to her that he had said for four years.

“I’m beyond grateful for everything that you do for me.” He picked up her left hand, spread her fingers, and kissed the mark that sat nestled between the digits.

“It’s my pleasure; and I mean that in as many ways possible.”

“Well, this Antichrist is going to be falling asleep with, once again, better than visions of sugarplums dancing in his head. We have an absolute harlot to thank for giving me a fantastic afternoon. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sleep well.”

“You, too.”

Damien rolled over, as did Rebecca, and he turned off the light; the room was now peacefully dark and quiet. Given the expenditure of energy today, it should have knocked him out. However, something wasn’t sitting right with him. It was awkward and unfinished.

And then…

“Rebecca?”

“Hmm?”

He reached up and pulled the toggle to turn on his light; she did the same. He sat up and turned to her. She was now facing him.

“I did something very intimate today. Do I feel guilty? No, but I do recognize that it was deeply personal. I’ve known you for over four years. We’ve had sex more times than I can count. As of right now, you know me better than anyone else on this Earth. You’ve been my confidant from almost the moment you walked into the house. You’re the one who introduced me to the whole idea of consuming blood during sex. I’m not sure where I’d be without you.”

“Damien…”

“I can’t say the words I know you want to hear. I care very deeply for you.”

“I love you. You know that.”

“I know. I can feel it, and it has always warmed me. I don’t know why I never told you about how I felt about Mark. Maybe because I wanted something that was just mine. I would, however, right now, like to rectify something that should have happened right after he and I were involved.”

“Which is…”

“I’d very much like to kiss you.”

He could not feel what Mark had been feeling when they had kissed for the first time, but he assumed, based on his cousin’s actions, that there was a fair amount of lust and love mixed together.

Rebecca’s emotions came at him at once, and he took them and savoured each like a fine wine; he didn’t have to guess that lust and love were among them, he could taste them.

He had her face in his right hand, his thumb gently moving over her lips. She was so much softer than Mark…her face, her lips, her neck. It wasn’t that he had never touched those places, but now that he was working up to kiss her…she felt different under his touch.

“You’re the first girl I’m gonna kiss, and only the second person besides Mark. So, if I’m fabulous, you can thank him. If I suck, that’s on me.”

He moved forward, tilting his head to the left. She moved forward as well. He could feel her desire and anticipation of the act, and he was finding it to be a turn-on. There would be no sexual activity, Nadja would kill them both, but Damien liked the idea that a make-out session with Rebecca could be a prelude to something more.

He closed his eyes, and he placed his mouth of hers…

Hunger…vulnerability…eagerness…violence…longing…tenderness…fierceness…all this, and more, enveloped him.

He put more force into his efforts, which she returned, and he smiled as her tongue found purchase against his. Her enthusiasm was welcome, and he was hoping that it also meant that he was doing a good job of kissing her.

She pulled away, his face in her hands now.

“So? What do I tell Mark?”

She merely leaned forward, placing her forehead against his.

“And to be clear, this is reciprocal; I want you to kiss me if you feel like it. And this is how it is from now on. We kiss. Not just before or during sex, but…I very much would have liked to have kissed you when you came home today. Also…if it wasn’t for you…I’m sure I would have thought about it at some point, but I never would have found how…how profound it is to taste you and Nadja while we make love. I’m hoping Mark is open to me not just tasting him, but for him to taste me.

“After Mark, the night after tomorrow, I’d like…”

“You don’t have…”

“I want you to and I know you want to. I can feel the heat inside you. If we weren’t waiting for tomorrow and your sister, I’d fuck you.” He picked up her hand and kissed her inner wrist.

“I want to taste you so badly, Damien, it hurts.”

“And so, the lovely Rebecca shall get what she wants.”

She had still not looked at him. Tears began hitting the empty space between them, turning his duvet a darker blue than it already was.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

This time, her mouth met his; her lips were salty from her tears. He had never taken into account that kissing someone else would feel different than kissing Mark; different, but equally as pleasing. She pulled away and looked at him.

“You’d have managed just fine.”

“You make it easier.”

“Feel like you can sleep, now?”

“I think so.”

They both got back under the covers and shut off their lamps. This time, he pulled her to him; she made herself comfortable in his arms, and it suddenly occurred to him what had made everything better once they all had been together.

“Family,” he murmured.

“Who?”

“Us. You, me, Mark, and Nadja. Everything was less shitty. It felt…right when the three of you came home and we were all together.”

“Who are we, then?”

He grinned in the dark. “Well, obviously, we’re the two dashing, sophisticated, older siblings who have to keep the younger pair in line, lest they misbehave.”

“Mmm, all kinds of possibilities for fun and games.”

He kissed the top of her head. “That there is.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sleep well.”

She stretched and sank even further into the bed, moving around until she found a position that pleased her.

He was relaxed, and it would have been very easy for him to fall asleep, but for right now, he would wait until Rebecca drifted off before he joined her.

Chapter Text

Mark was aware that he was absently staring out of the window, yet he found himself with little motivation to do anything about it. It wasn’t even noon, and the day had already turned out to be chockablock jam-packed and there was still more to come. The slight smile that sat on his lips turned into a full-blown one when he heard the knock on the door.

“Come in.”

Nadja entered his room, closing the door behind her.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“I don’t think it’s possible for you to interrupt me, or anyone else, for that matter. It makes the terrible assumption that anything I, or anyone else, could be doing was more important your arrival.”

“You do know how to make a girl feel special...”

She was wearing a pair of red capri pants and a matching red T-shirt, and both, as usual, hugged every curve of her body. She was dressed very casually, but for him, the most stunning ballgown clad, tiara donning princess was nowhere near as magnificent as she was.

The smile that he had been wearing even before she entered the room had still not left his lips.

“Care to let me in on it.”

“I knew it was you by the knock.”

“That makes you happy?”

“Very. It has been quite the morning. I thought that I’d seen Damien in full-on seduction mode. I was, what I like to call, wrong. Mark of the past would have lost his mind.” He had been standing, but took a seat at his desk, which is where he had been for most of the day.

“And Mark of today?”

“He’s learned to stow away his sexual wants and needs until they can be unleashed at a later date.”

“What else?”

“I’ve come to a decision about school.”

“Oh!?”

“That, I’m keeping to myself, for now. I’ve spent a good part of the morning thinking about the past seventeen or so days. I’ve also learned new things about myself, today.”

“Good or bad?”

“Mmm, very good. I also, also spent part of this morning wondering how I would have passed the time with Damien had all of…this not occurred.”

“Is that important?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I just don’t know yet.” He exhaled. “She’s not hassling you, is she?”

“She’s Rebecca. What do you think?”

“Yeah, Damien won’t shut the fuck up, either. May I?”

She had taken a seat on his bed, and he held his right hand out to her. He watched as she got up, came to him and took it; she understood that he wanted her to straddle him. She was now sitting on his lap, facing him.

“Mark…”

“How ‘bout I go first?”

“Agreed.”

“I’ve changed a lot since Damien began carrying out his little plan of debauching Mark Thorn. I know my worth now. I understand who I am. That I’m more than a catch; I’m priceless and that doesn’t count the money in the bank account.

“I never imagined having a girlfriend. I jerked off plenty to girls in magazines, or on the internet, but I never met a girl that I was interested in because by the time I was old enough to give a thought to a girl that I wanted to date, Damien and the things I wanted to do to him, and vice versa, had filled my dance card.

“However, never, in my wildest fantasies, did I ever imagine a woman like you taking an interest in me. If I was very lucky, you’d fuck me. But wanting to spend time with me? Only because I was rich and that was it.

“When all of this started, I began to pay attention to the three of you and noticed there was…something; you were puzzle pieces that fit together. So much so, that, the night the three of you went upstairs and left me alone, I seriously considered going to join Richard and Ann.”

“Mark, I’m sorry! We never…”

“I know and it doesn’t matter now. I told you that you’re dark.”

“Yes.”

“I’m fairly certain I’m dark, too.”

She closed her eyes.

“Damien’s rules are the only ones you never break. Never.”

“I don’t know if I’m the same as you three. I do understand now that I fit in with all of you. That I’m a puzzle piece, too. Just as important as Damien, you, or Rebecca. I’m not exactly sure how. Yet. But I believe and know that all of us, together, will reveal that and help me understand. I also owe you another apology.”

She simply looked at him. He took pride in the fact that it was only Damien who was preventing her from unleashing her own sexual wants and needs on him. That if she had her way, she’d be on him like white on snow.

“If, when the pair off you moved in, I behaved like a lech, or if I stared, or in any way made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

“Mark, you were thirteen. You looked but never stared. When we spoke, you were respectful and, albeit a little awkward at first. You never leered, at least, not when I could see you. I’ve been in the company of adult men who could have learned more than one lesson from you about keeping their eyes to themselves. You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’d very much like for us to have a relationship; for me to be your boyfriend, just so we’re clear. That’s me.”

“I’d like to know why you’re attracted to me.”

Mark paused. He had given thought to this. Not only because it was important for him to be able to identify why he liked someone, but in case she ever asked.

“I can honestly say, that in my nineteen years on this planet, I have never met anyone like you, and that includes Damien. You are singular and one-of-a-kind. You refuse to be anyone else other than you. I know I don’t know much about that girl in the photo, but I’m sure she was who she was, and when it came time for her to be someone else, she went right along with it.

“You remind me of a quotation from Romeo and Juliet. When the Nurse comes in to tell Juliet that Romeo killed Tybalt and the Nurse tells Juliet that Romeo should be ashamed of himself, Juliet tells her, paraphrased, of course, “Blistered be thy tongue for such a wish! She was not born to shame. Upon her brow shame is ashamed to sit, for ’tis a throne where honor may be crowned.’

“Anyone who points fingers at you about how you dress and how free you are with yourself only has fingers pointing right back at themselves and it reveals a whole lot about how they feel about women.”

“Mark…one of the few times in my life I’ve been speechless. Thank you is a poor response, but it’s all I have at the moment.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Would it surprise you to learn that I’ve only had sex with Rebecca and Damien?”

“Not really. If someone will not have you for who you are, you will not have them. I won’t apologize on behalf of my sex. Grown-ass men should be old enough to know better.”

“I think…no, I love you, Mark.”

“I love you, Nadja. I’ve been ignoring it. I was worried that Damien would have big feelings, but I don’t care.” He took her hands in his. “Please look at me.”

She did as he asked, and for one of the few times that he knew her, she felt vulnerable to him.

“I will never, not ever, ask you to be less than who you are or who you want to be. I love the woman who walks down the street short skirt, no panties, high heels with not a care in the world about who thinks what about what. I also love the woman who wears track pants and a ratty T-shirt. I want you always to be you, and that’s the woman I want to walk down the street with, hand-in-hand, and let everyone rot with jealousy.”

“Then that officially makes us a couple.”

“I’m glad. Let the pair of them plan whatever the fuck they’re planning when it comes to us.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “I guess today I also found out I’m in a relationship with two people. Who knew.”

Once again, he felt a surge of pride as he watched her center herself.

“I come bearing news. I have it on very good authority that there is a possibility that you and Damien will be going away for the next four days.”

He smirked. “And by a ‘possibility,’ do you mean a ‘for sure?’”

She merely smiled at him, and he was about to respond with something about going away a virgin and coming back a certified man-whore, but something else occurred to him…

“Four days?”

“It could be all done by the time you come back. You’re not asking for the impossible when it comes to what you want to do with your room. You’ve included me in all of the communication with everyone. I can make sure it’s done the way you want.”

“Do you mind?”

“I do, but it’s okay.”

She got up off his lap, and he stood and looked around. This had been his room, without much change, since he could remember.

“If it’s too much, you can wait…”

“No. There’s no need. This space no longer fits who I am. Damien spent his first night here.”

“I know, but I’ve never heard it from you.”

“He was terrified. I can’t begin to imagine…your mother and your father both dead…flying across the ocean to move in with people you never even met, relatives or not, and you’re only five. He said one word that day. He was so quiet back then. They used to call me Motor-mouth Mark because I wouldn’t shut up. I’d be going on about something and I’d turn to look at him and he’d be white as new fallen snow. I never figured out whether it was because he was worried that he had to keep up the conversation, or if he was simply overwhelmed. But I learned to talk less; he learned to talk more. We balanced each other out. Still do.”

“I think so, too.”

Mark went to his closet and came back with a laundry basket.

“Well, you know what Marie Kondo says…if it doesn’t spark joy, kick it to the curb.”

“Would you like some help?”

“I’m good, though thank you for asking.” He walked her to the door. “I’m going to say three words to you that I’m hoping will make you very happy.”

“I’m listening.”

He put his mouth by her right ear, “you’re in charge.”

She squealed with utter delight, and after a few claps, threw her arms around him.

“Eeee! First dressing you and then being in charge of remaking your room!? There isn’t a shade of green that will be green enough for her!”

“We’ll use our personal emails. You’ve a question or concern, email me.”

“You can count on it.”

He reached out and ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “Is it cliché if I tell you what I’m most looking forward to tonight is kissing you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I haven’t properly kissed any girl. I might suck.”

“If kissing you…inspired Damien to do it with Rebecca, your lips must be magic.”

“I hope so. Can I say something weird?”

“Always.”

“I like us. I like watching movies, going shopping, and yes, even waiting while you get your hair done…I don’t want that to change.”

“And I genuinely enjoy spending time with you, Mark, and I don’t say that about most people. I like us, too, and I’m looking forward to spending time doing all those things, and more. And we haven’t gone to the Thorn Museum together yet so I can tell you absolutely everything I want to do to change it.”

“It’s a date.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and he felt her lick up the side of his neck, her hand in his hair.

“I am very much looking forward to kissing you…right before I suck your cock. There are so many more things my mouth plans on doing to you.”

“I can’t wait.” He gave her ear a tug with his teeth.

“Good luck. If you do decide you want help with keeping things, let me know, oh and...”

“I will and I didn’t hear anything about any trip.” He pulled the imaginary zipper across his mouth.

“Thank you, Mark.”

She batted her eyes at him, and he was reminded of what he told Damien about her turning on a dime.

She opened the door and turned to leave but changed her mind.

“Will you remember something for me tonight?”

“Yes.”

“That everything you see between me, Rebecca, and Damien is consensual and has come from years of honing our time together. Nothing horrible will happen, but…just in case…I don’t want you to be alarmed.

“Consider me forewarned.”

“And if at any time, anything is going on that you don’t like, especially if it’s being done to you…”

“My safe word is vault.”

“Well done. I’ll see you later.”

She gave him a reassuring smile and left. He closed the door.

The big furniture…bed, dressers, desk…would be taken away to donate somewhere. Most of the clothing that Damien had deemed verboten had already been removed. It was now mostly deciding what personal items he would keep.

“Alright, room, it’s just you and me.”

At least he’d be preoccupied deciding what he would keep and that would prevent his mind from straying too much to thoughts of later.

…666…

Dinner had been a fairly simple affair with no one wanting to eat anything that would make them too full to engage in the night’s activities. It was Friday and there were several pizza places that were open until three if they wanted to order and while those places usually didn’t deliver out this far, like with most things in life, and in the city of Chicago especially, exceptions were made for the Thorns.

He and Damien had finished cleaning up while Rebecca and Nadja left to do whatever they wanted to do to prepare for their time together.

“We at Thorn invest our time and resources into so many technological innovations…why the fuck isn’t a robot who does the dishes one of them?”

Mark laughed as his cousin threw the dish towel onto the counter.

“Aww, does poor Damien have dish pan hands?”

“And pruney fingers. You seem to get a kick out of it.”

He leaned against the counter. “I’ve been waited on nearly hand and foot for most of my life. I find myself enjoying the time we’ve spent being on our own.”

“How so?”

“Privacy, of course. I like doing things for myself, both here and at Thorn. I don’t mind calling in a cleaning place to come in, do their job and leave so that we’re the only ones who live here. Color me surprised when I discovered that doing the dishes is very Zen.”

“I will admit, I do like cooking more than I thought I would. That being said, when Agatha and the crew return, I’m demanding, on their first full day back to work, a full English breakfast in bed, sans the black pudding, lobster Thermador for lunch, and a six-course meal for dinner, the one that’s usually reserved for christmas and I am not being facetious when I say that because I emailed her and told her as much. I hope you like turkey and stuffing in August.”

He returned the dish towel to its place over the handle of the over door.

“Are you ready?”

Mark tilted his head. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”

“No. And remember, you’re in charge. One word and we stop and readjust or just stop. No points off towards your graduation from Damien’s School of Debauchery.”

“I think if we wait any longer, Rebecca and Nadja will have our heads on pikes.”

“Hands behind your back.”

“Am I under arrest, officer?”

“No, and just for future reference, I don’t role play cops, the military, or members of the clergy and that goes for the ladies…unless you want to role play your head being violently removed from your body. Once again, I am not being facetious when I say that.”

Mark felt silk against his skin as his wrists were bound behind his back. Secure, but not tight.

“I’m delivering their sacrifice, and for tonight, to keep it simple, a willing one.”

“What’s an unwilling one?”

Damien came around and stood in front of him.

“Call it a willing unwilling sacrifice. The three of us thought it best to nix any role play. Tonight, it’s enough for us be us.”

“Am I being tossed into a volcano?”

“Oh, no. What would be the fun in that?”

Damien was walking backwards and crooked his index finger and motioned for him to follow, which he did.

“They’re vampiresses, Mark. Sorceresses…demonesses…succubae. They demand a sacrifice of blood.”

“Vault.”

Quicker than anyone should have moved, Damien’s right hand plunged into his pocket, and he pulled out a pocketknife, unsheathing the blade in order to cut the silk that was keeping him tied up.

“Woah. No. That’s not what’s wrong. I’m sorry I…”

“It’s all good and don’t be sorry. I assumed the hands behind the back was becoming an issue. Why the stopping?”

“I don’t understand how I’m supposed to respond.”

“The vampires and everything else is just some erotic word choice. We’re not roleplaying me handling you over to the village witches or something like that. Respond as you. As Mark. Have something clever to say? Say it. Something sexy? Say it. Need a moment to think of something to say? Take that moment.

“You can’t do anything wrong with all of this. While there’s no roleplay, there can be some on the spot improvisation.”

It took him a moment to figure out what the hesitation was. “I think I’m afraid of disappointing one or all of you.”

“Okay, I’m stealing your safe word, vault, so that you know that what I’m about to say isn’t part of a game. You can’t disappoint any of us. I mean you could, but that isn’t your goal. Ignoring work for a moment and dealing with everything that’s gone on in the house since your parents left...

“I was on you the moment Ann and Richard were out the door. It took a couple of days to get you in a position where you could no longer ignore what was happening, but from that moment on…Mark, there are very few people who could have done what you did…took absolutely everything that was no longer serving them, threw it onto a gasoline-soaked pyre, tossed on a match and watched it burn. You’ve left no bridge back to the person you used to be.

“You walk around with the confidence that I always knew you were deserving of. Your clothing reflects someone of wealth, taste, and who knows how hot he is. Your head is up, your shoulders back. You’re a man who knows himself inside and out, and yes, that does show at work. You look like you belong there, which you do.

“You’ve impressed Rebecca and that’s nigh near impossible to do.

“Then there’s Nadja. I could tell you stories about the men who thought that could win her over. Or thought they knew her. Or tried to control her. I was there when someone once told her he’d leave his wife and children for her, burn the house to the ground and follow her wherever she wanted to go. She called him pathetic for wanting to desert his wife and children and to take away their home, and their safety, to follow someone he had just met. She told him to drop dead and could he please do it in front of her so the last thing he would see was her laughing at him.

“You wooed her the way she wants to be wooed. Treated her the way she wants to be treated. Let her be her. And because of that, she’s on cloud nine and she can’t stop talking about you. You’ve earned a soft spot with Rebecca and that’s even harder to do than impress her.

“Nadja told me the pair of you spoke today and she told me something that I wish that you had told me. This is your home. You belong here. If you had truly been bothered by what the three of us were doing, we are the ones who would have left. However, I’m glad you didn’t. It would have made seducing you very, very difficult.

“All the demands I put on you would have crushed so-called better men. You felt out of place? It put you on your back foot? You readjusted and came out fighting and you’re the stronger for it.”

“I was going to save this for…I told Nadja I love her and said it to me. We’re a couple.”

He felt relief as a smile slowly spread over Damien’s lips.

“The Mark Thorn of the pool party wouldn’t know the Mark Thorn that’s standing in front of me right now. You were worried about impressing Amanda the Intern when you’ve managed to attract a Goddess because you yourself are a God. If you need to bow out tonight, no one is going to think less of you for it. You’ll readjust and come out fighting.”

“It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Let’s try this: nothing new between the two of us. We stick to what we’ve done. Tonight isn’t the time to get creative, and all of us together is new enough. Does that make you feel better?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll never hear me complain about you having your mouth around my cock. If I do, feel free to punch me right in the fucking face. Besides, the pair of us making out on our bed, naked, wrapped around each other like vipers and watching those two do perverse things to each other…I’m looking forward to that. With just the three of us, someone is always left out.”

There was a vibration from Damien’s pocket.

“Three guesses who that is…”

“I’m honestly good.”

“I’m glad. And your restraint will be removed once you get into the room. Otherwise, it’s going to be super difficult for you to jerk me off. Not to mention that Nadja wants you to explore every part of her body. Your hand between her legs…if you’ve thought you’ve felt silk you haven’t felt anything like her when she’s aroused.”

“A God for a sacrifice?”

He began following Damien, who, once again, was walking backwards so they could continue the conversation face-to-face.

“Very fitting, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps they’ll devour me. I’d like that.”

“Oh, Mark. That’s perfect. See? And they will. They are absolutely wantonous, debauched, depraved, and corrupt Goddesses for whom I’ve been thankful from the minute they walked through the door of this house. I pray every day to my God and give thanks that they refuse to be what society tells them they are supposed to be.”

“That makes two of us.”

“They will eat you raw, and when they’re done, and there’s hardly anything left of you, they’ll fuck each other as they pick their teeth with your bones.”

“I told Nadja that I think I’m dark, too.”

“I don’t think, I know. The how will be worked out and oh, how much fun that will be. I can’t wait to watch you unfurl and bloom, Mark. A black flower reaching up towards a blood red moon.”

Damien’s pocket once again vibrated.

“I was a silly man for once thinking that those two wicked women were, like everyone else, apart from you, on my time. Color me surprised when I discovered that it was the other way around.”

They stopped at the door.

“I’d say abandon all hope ye who enter here, but I do believe that you’re going to very much enjoy this level of Hell dedicated to all kinds of lustful pursuits. I love you.”

“I love you more and I’d bet money wantonous isn’t a word.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Merriam-Webster.”

“Those were two separate people.”

“I have other plans for that smart mouth of yours. Shall we?”

Mark moved forward and willingly walked to his fate.

Chapter Text

The room was dimly yet tastefully lit. The glow from the table lamps licked at the shadows in the corners, their light gleaming in the highly polished furniture. A hint of sage and bergamot hung in the air, making Mark feel more at ease.

A current of sensuousness eddied around the room that he hadn’t experienced any other time being in there, and that included when he had been summoned by Rebecca with the Holmesian text that she had sent him and had found the trio fucking. Something was different and he found himself hoping that the something different was him.

Across from the bed, in front of the closet, was the futon that normally occupied a spot in the reading/study area. It had been folded down and made up with a black, silk fitted sheet. There were a few pillows; he smiled as he doubted that the bed had been made up for sleeping.

“One sacrifice, as requested.”

He could feel Damien loosen the material and he shortly found himself once again with the use of his hands.

“How are you tonight?”

“I’m very well, Rebecca, thank you for asking. I hope this evening finds you equally as agreeable.”

“I had wondered if you had changed your mind.”

“Perish the thought.”

She was dressed in a simple red silk robe that was cinched around her waist. Mark didn’t have to check; he knew she was naked beneath it. She was all business, and she was intending to get to that business as soon as possible. There would be no striptease or pretending to be anyone. Tonight, she would be herself in all her glory. The sternness in her daily life that she wore like armour had been repurposed into steely, sure sexuality. It was bright and sharp like the edge of a knife, and it would cut with the skill of a gifted surgeon, and he now understood

Rebecca’s violence: it was cold and calculated, and she’d kill you without so much as raising her blood pressure by one pulse.

“You look stunning.”

“Thank you, Mark. Damien.”

“Am I going to be the lucky individual who gets to pull the belt of that robe and get the present that’s inside?”

He moved behind her, slipping his arms around her waist, nuzzling into her neck.

“Perhaps.”

“I have news. It turns out, our Romeo and Juliet here have figured things out all on their own.”

“A certain little raven told me that, already. Am I to understand that protestations of love were exchanged?”

Mark squirmed under her unerring, laser-like gaze. “Yes.”

“Speaking of our little raven, where is she?”

“In the bathroom, trying to find the perfect something. If she isn’t out in five minutes, there will be consequences, payable at a later date.”

“What kind of consequences?”

He watched as Rebecca slipped out of Damien’s hold and came over to him.

“Nothing dire. Let’s see…”

She reached out and undid the button on his pants.

“She’s naked in my bed. I take her nipples, in turn, in my mouth, sucking and biting as she writhes in frustration. Caress every square inch of her body while she pleads with me. Run a vibrator over her little pearl over while she loses her mind because I refuse to let her come.

She looked him in the eyes as she pulled down the zipper.

“Strip myself naked and recline in bed, pleasuring myself in any way I see fit and not let find her release from all the sexual tension that would be making her cunt just pulse.”

She ran her index finger up the front of his pants, her red, pointed nail having just enough pressure to feel it in his prick.

“Make her sit in a chair while Damien fucks me until I scream with divine pleasure while the poor girl sits there, in agony, in her very drenched panties, unable to lift so much as finger to get herself off.

“Like I said, nothing dire, but it was valiant and sweet of you to be concerned.”

“I suddenly find myself hoping our girl takes her precious time in there. Would it be wrong of me to lock the door? For just a teeny, tiny fraction of time, of course.”

She looked back at Damien.

“Sorry.”

Rebecca turned around again to face him. She had brown eyes, like he did, but there were no flecks of gold or green in them and right now, her dark eyes that were almost black in the low light were burning into his soul.

“There is no judgement during your time in this room tonight, but I know you understand that the quicker you follow your wants and desires the more time you get for enjoyment.”

“Yes.”

“I also know you don’t have much experience, so I don’t expect you to be Don Juan, Casanova, or Lothario, individually or, all rolled into one, so effort will count much more than result. I will be paying extra close attention to your time with Nadja. You’ve treated her the way she deserves to be treated and claim to love her. You are in my good graces. But understand that you are on probation until I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you will do right by her. And we will be having a conversation.”

“Of course.”

She ran a daggered nail up his chest and it ended up under his chin, which he lifted at her urging.

“That being said, I’ve wanted to do all manner of unseemly things to you, Mark, for quite some time. It is going to be so delicious watching you and Damien be together. I want you to give in to whatever lascivious thoughts you have; I equally want for you to share all those lascivious thoughts with us.”

“While we can’t have sex, or do anything that Damien hasn’t done first, everything that has already happened between you all will continue. Yes?”

“Yes.”

“I want to watch you and Damien fuck.”

“Are you a voyeur?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re going to have Nadja and myself watch you be with Damien. Does knowing that turn you on more?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Not a question that has to be answered now. I was wondering if you were waiting for an engraved invitation.”

Mark followed her gaze and there stood Nadja, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door.

She had chosen bubble-gum pink as her colour, and it stood out against her lightly tanned skin. He smiled as she spun on the balls of her fee; she had chosen the kind of panties that he liked. Not a thong, but just enough material to barely cover her ample ass cheeks.

The matching bra wasn’t a bra, but instead was a very small top, with ribbons crisscrossed down the front instead of hooks, and cap sleeves that were slightly puffy. It looked like the bodice of a very cute summer dress that she might have chosen. It was tied with a dark pink ribbon under her breasts, and while it looked like there were a few layers to the lacy material, there wasn’t enough of it to hide her hardened nipples and Mark guessed that was on purpose.

Mark put his left arm around her waist, drawing her close to him.

Rebecca was cold death, freezing you until the blood in your veins became slush and your heart gradually turned into a chunk of ice. All the while, her standing there, simply observing your life ebb away one degree at a time…

“You are the answer to the question, ‘what happens when gasoline and a lit match have a child?’”

“Is there anything you can’t do with that mouth?  Did you tell them about us?”

“Yes, I did. Well, Damien did.”

“Mmm, that means more time for sinful and wicked fun. Do you like what I’ve chosen?”

She turned, crossed her feet and with her arms out like she going to curtsey, bent over, giving him her backside.

He applauded and smirked as she came back up and fell into his arms. “I finally get the chance to tell you that I adore the fact that you look like the sweetest and tastiest gum drop in the entire candy store while being a goddamned nuclear fucking bomb.”

He was once again lost in those grey eyes of hers. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. The anticipation made his heart pound against his chest and the breath catch in his throat. He was anticipating kissing her as much as he had anticipated kissing Damien, though that no longer surprised him.

“You are a conflagration, and I am more than happy to burn with you.”

“No more stopping?”

“No more stopping.”

He lowered and turned his head, and his lips met hers, and he felt himself smile as he tasted cotton candy.

I should have expected nothing less.

Her mouth was soft and sweet, and that didn’t include the taste of the lip gloss. It was like biting into a peach that you know is going to be ripe and delicious, its juices running down your chin, and not minding in the least about the mess it was making.

She was as eager as he was and once he was certain that she was enjoying what he was doing, he put more force behind it, his tongue finding purchase against hers, and she met his force with her own. He attempted to speed up the pace, to put more enthusiasm into the act when she slowed him down by gently biting his tongue and he understood.

There would be no judgement in the room tonight, but there was a lesson, and he was the pupil. Everything that was going to happen where Rebecca and Nadja were concerned would be what they liked and how they liked it. It would not be an exhaustive list, it would be truncated for time, but it would be an attempt, with as little interference from them as possible, to show him what got them off.

She was suddenly pulled away from him; Rebecca had put her arms around Nadja’s waist and had claimed her for herself. Both were looking at him.

“No moving on until we have the appetizers.”

“I spy with my little eye…two men who should be naked and jerking each other off.”

Mark turned to Damien, who rolled his eyes.

“About time, Mark. What do I have to do to get your attention?”

“Dress like that.”

“I don’t think pink is my color…or did you mean the in ladies’ underwear?”

“Hey, I could have been going for the robe. Let the evidence be entered into admission that you, Damien Thorn, chose the cotton candy pink matching panty outfit.”

He took Damien’s hand, and they pulled each to the other.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

Mark smiled. “Immensely.”

“Execution doesn’t always transfer from the page to the real world, so I’m glad that so far, it’s going like very sexy clockwork.”

He still had Damien’s advice in his ear…you do you and it will all be fine.

“You know it occurs to me.” His fingers steadily undid the buttons of his own shirt. “That a good place to start is to give our audience something they haven’t seen.”

“And what would that be?”

Damien removed his jacket and tossed it onto the bed.

“You’re a smart man; I shouldn’t have to explain it to you, also I never told you to get undressed.”

“My bad.”

Damien’s tone was playfully sarcastic, but he had done what Mark asked and had stopped removing his clothes.

Mark removed his shirt and tossed it onto the chair.

“The ladies know what I mean. Yes?”

“Points to Mark for understanding the assignment.”

“Thank you.” He turned to Rebecca and gave a curt nod of his head and then resumed the attention that he had been giving to his cousin.

“I’m glad you decided to dress for the occasion. Lots of handsome clothing to strip from you. You look very hot, by the way. I don’t think I mentioned it earlier.”

“I don’t get to strip you?”

“Not right now.”

Rebecca had already unbuttoned and pulled down the zipper of his trousers, so he hooked his fingers inside the top of the pants and worked them down his legs until they gathered at his feet. Like his shirt, he tossed them onto the chair.

“Look at those. Mark went underwear shopping.”

“Actually, Mark and Nadja went underwear shopping. She requested that I wear these. I’m guessing you approve.”

He turned. They were similar to a jock strap so that there was no back part of the brief, just material that was snug under his cheeks, framing their fullness. He hadn’t been sure about them at first, but he was surprised at not only how comfortable they felt, but that he enjoyed the sensation of his pants against his bare ass.

“I knew you’d look good. The red positively suits you.”

He smiled at Nadja and then quickly removed his socks and tossed them near the chair. He took Damien’s left hand and the pair of them were once again in each other’s arms.

“I think I once said I created a monster. I’m so fucking grateful that I did.”

His cousin had reached out and ran a finger across his bare ass, snapping the material.

“I want your mouth, Damien.”

“It’s right here. Come take it.”

As with the first time that his lips had touched Damien’s, there was a heat that began in his gut and spread to his veins, moving through him until it felt like he was burning from the inside out and it was the greatest fucking feeling in the world.

He slid his hands down Damien’s back, grasping his ass, drawing him closer, taking pleasure in the wantonness with which his cousin was giving in to his attention. There was more pride on his part because while he was thoroughly enjoying everything that was going on, he was not yet hard.

Damien grasped back, making the space between them non-existent, and with the pair of them practically glued together, he smirked as he began grinding his cock against Damien’s.

“I should have put you in front of them sooner. You are a man possessed.”

Mark buried his face in Damien’s neck as his cousin was reciprocating what he was doing with his hips. There was a heat there that he never noticed, below his skin, begging to be set free. He kissed, licked and then bit down against the delicate flesh and Damien made a sound that he had never heard him make.

“Again, but harder.”

He could have sworn an actual animal growl issue forth from Damien’s mouth. He didn’t feel comfortable increasing the force on the delicate flesh he had first bitten, so fast fingers undid the top buttons of his dress shirt, and he pulled down the collar, found the top of his cousin’s shoulder and bit hard enough to get blood to come to the surface.

He could feel it as it was happening, the slight change in Damien’s posture as he was getting ready to take him and slam the pair of them into the wall behind them.

“Oh, I absolutely do not think so.”

Instead, Mark disengaged from their embrace and moved behind his cousin. He also now had a full-on view of Rebecca and Nadja.

The younger pulled the tie at older woman’s waist and with a flick of her wrist, the robe was open, and it fell to the floor, delicately pooling at her feet.

“I guess you’re not the one, cousin dearest.”

He reached around and loosened Damien’s tie, pulling the one end of it until it was no longer in a knot and then removed it, tossing it onto the bed.

“You are magnificent, Rebecca.”

The last time that he had seen her naked, he had been so overcome with arousal that he hadn’t paid close attention to her. He was not going to make that mistake again.

Her breasts were smaller than Nadja’s, her hips less curvaceous but that didn’t make her any less attractive. Her height added to her attractiveness, and he thought that if Amazon women were real, they’d look a lot like Rebecca. He wasn’t sure if hearing herself be called statuesque was a compliment, so he let it go for now.

“Thank you. If you would like, we can take turns and strip them naked while the other watches.”

Nadja whispered something into Rebecca’s ear, giving it a tug for good measure.

“When the time comes, she would like you to remove her clothes. Is that what you would like, Mark?”

“There is very little else I would like.”

He watched as Rebecca once again took Nadja around the waist and pulled her close, their mouths locked in a kiss as hands roamed over pink lace, settling on her backside while fingertips grazed over the top of her panties, teasing their removal.

Rebecca turned Nadja around, so that he now had a view of her front.

“I bet you are drenched. I can’t say I blame you. They make quite the couple.”

Her hand gently traced down Nadja’s front, once again, teasing along the top of her panties. Deft fingers traced circles on the delicate material, making their way between her lovely legs. Nadja moaned and moved against Rebecca’s hand.

“Perhaps, but I’d better make sure.”

Her right hand disappeared down the front of Nadja’s panties, and the sly smile that now graced her mouth told him all he needed to know.

“Good and slick. So difficult to stay on that little bump of yours, but I do like a challenge. Let’s see how you taste.”

Even from where he was standing Mark could see her wet fingers glisten in glow of the room. She brought her hand up to her mouth, teasing that she would keep it to herself. He laughed as he could almost hear Nadja’s pout at the thought of missing out.

“Such enthusiasm.”

Rebecca ran a digit across an eager mouth and with a rise of her eyebrow, Nadja licked up her own wetness, like a cat licking up cream, and then moved her mouth up so the pair of them were once again kissing.

“So beautiful.”

Mark smiled. “Yes, she is.”

The whole time, his fingers had been working on the buttons of Damien’s shirt, which, when he was finally done, he tossed onto the bed so that it joined the tie and jacket.

“You should be proud of yourself. He’s definitely enjoying what you’re doing to him. He’s getting hard.”

Rebecca sat on the futon, spreading her legs so that Nadja could sit in the space between them. She then threw her legs over Rebecca’s, providing her with easier access.

“I want you to undress me, Mark, or else I’d let her strip me down and let you see exactly how wet I am.”

“It’s perfectly okay. I can wait, and the night is still young.”

He found Damien’s belt buckle and gently pulled so that the latch came out of the hole it had been sitting in. He, as Rebecca had done to him, undid the button and pulled down the zipper, but unlike Rebecca, he slid his right hand down the front of Damien’s briefs, kneading at him over the material.

“You feel so fucking good right now. Knowing that you are getting turned on because of what I’m doing to you is making me crazy. Do you like it?”

“Mark…”

His head lolled back against his chest, and he laughed, and continued to rub and grasp at Damien, who was now at full mast.

Mark removed Damien’s pants and then hooked his fingers over the top of the briefs and pulled down, and he knelt removing them and taking off socks as each foot had been lifted.

“One of these things is not like the other…”

Nadja regarded him through half open eyes as Rebecca had not stopped pleasuring her.

“Let’s change that.”

He left Damien and stood front of the two women.

“I have to say, I am impressed.”

Rebecca hand’s flitted up and down the length of his thighs.

“Thank you. Damien taught me well. If this keeps up, I’m not the one who’s going to need a lecture about the art of control. Would my wicked goddess do me the honour of removing my briefs?”

Those were apparently magic words for Nadja, who had been succumbing to Rebecca’s ministrations, now sat up straight.

“Take them off without touching you?”

She was biting her lip.

“Sadly, for right now, yes. I have every intention of putting them back on and I guarantee you, you can touch for as long as your heart desires.”

Her fingers danced across his thighs, as Rebecca’s had done, and then, with a smirk, she placed her hands on his waist, grasped the sides of his briefs and gleefully pulled them down. He stepped out of them she picked them up and tossed them onto Damien’s things.

“Very nice.”

“I think so. Can’t say I’m overly gifted in the length or girth department, but it’s made me happy since I’ve been about twelve or so.”

“I’d love to be happy with it.”

Nadja had now gone back to reclining, though she had not taken her eyes off his cock.

“I feel so cheap. My eyes are up here.” He made a V with his first two fingers of his right and pointed them at his face.

She was enjoying Rebecca’s hands cupped around her breasts, rubbing her thumbs over her nipples. He bent over, looking her in the eyes.

“We all float down here, Georgie.”

“Your Pennywise is much better than your Dracula. Also, Skarsgård over Curry.”

“Blasphemy. You’re incorrigible and I love you.”

“One of us has to be and I love you, back. I plan to say your name when she lets me come.”

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Damien reaching out and he took the hand that was offered.

“Must be my lucky day.” He kissed her nose.

He felt a tug and let himself be pulled away and found himself once again with his cousin.

“I thought you had forgotten me. I was going to start on my own.”

He put his hands on Damien’s chest and pushed until the back of his legs were pressed against the end of his bed.

“No where to go but on. All the way up to the top.”

“Yes, sir. It’s like we’re back in Davidson.”

He got on all fours, crawling to join him, flopping next to him so that he was facing out towards Rebecca and Nadja and they got the view of Damien’s ass.

“Is that what you and Nef used to get up to? Explains a lot.”

“Drop all the way fucking dead with that bullshit.”

“And a necrophile to boot. I’m learning so much about you tonight.”

“I’m proud of you. I’m hard as a rock and you are the picture of self restraint. How the tables have turned.”

“I had a good teacher, and I’m about to get plenty hard.”

He reached out, grabbed Damien’s leg and put it over his. Damien adjusted himself so that now, they were pressed against each other’s thigh.

“Spectacular view, isn’t it?”

“Of your ass for them? Yes, it is.”

“That’s sweet. I want to come like this.”

“Really? I have a perfectly good mouth.”

“Yes, you do, and I plan to make use of it, but for right now, like this. Your stickiness all over my thigh. I want to look into your eyes when you come. You love her.”

“Does it bother you?”

“No. I care very deeply for Rebecca. With everyone else, I am an irrational, unfair, ogre. With you…it would hardly be right for me to stop you from having a relationship with Nadja, when I have one with Rebecca.”

“Do you like this?”

He laughed.

“Usually, like I said, one of us is alone watching the other two. It’s nice to not have to do things to myself.”

His hands moved down Damien’s back and pressed him tightly against his thigh.

“Fuck…Mark.”

One moved against the other, not taking long at all the match their rhythms.

“I can see why you are attracted to her. She’s exacting, cold, stern, demanding, and a bitch, just like you.”

“I’m a bitch?”

“You are a petty, mean-girl in the guise of a man. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Damien moved his head so that he look across at them.

“It was their idea to move the futon over. We will all be on here, trust me, but fuck, that view is gorgeous. Sheer, bloody perfection.”

Mark had his face nuzzled into Damien’s neck, inhaling his scent, and giving serious consideration to using his teeth again, when he noticed that his partner had slowed down his movements.

“If you’ve fallen asleep…”

“If I fall asleep, I give you full permission to legitimately, if they are so inclined, fuck them. Both of them. All night long and leave me sleeping. It would be my punishment for passing out.”

“What is it?”

“Is me being with Nadja going to be an issue? I’d be deeply unhappy, but I’d understand.”

He lifted his head. “Am I a wicked boy if I say I am looking forward to seeing the two of you together? Can’t get off watching you two fuck if you two aren’t fucking, now can I? It’s like watching fire meet fire. I get why the both of them.”

Damien leaned forward and kissed his forehead; Mark could feel his cheeks grow hot.

“You are the very wickedest of boys. She’s the very wickedest of girls. I plan to fuck the pair of you at the same time to show my everlasting gratitude to you both, and any time you feel like biting me, go right ahead.

“Rebecca is not used to men treating Nadja well. She knows you’re not like that, but her hackles are up.”

“I expect nothing less.”

The pair of them began moving against each other with more force, and Mark looked up and over Damien’s shoulder.

She was technically dressed, but Rebecca had apparently undone the ribbons that were keeping that pretty pink top together and had Nadja’s nipple in her mouth, sucking, pulling, and then running her tongue over, no doubt, hardened flesh. She leaned up, whispering in Nadja’s ear, who responded by groaning and taking Rebecca’s hand and putting it between her legs. The whispering continued as the noises she was making were getting louder.

Mark took it all in…the sight and sounds of the two women across from him, fucking like they didn’t have a care in the world.

“Please…”

“Please, what, little raven?”

“I want to come. Please, please, please…”

“You took an awfully long time in the bathroom choosing your outfit. People were worried.”

“I look pretty, though and Mark wants to eat me.”

“He very much does…devour you like the sweet piece of cake that you are. Would you like that?”

“Yes!”

“Will you promise that you’ll never do it again?”

“I’m a positively unrepentant sinner; I will absolutely do it again. Next time, however, I’ll make sure someone is in that bathroom with me.”

“That you are. Take what’s yours.”

“Mark!”

He watched as she ground herself against Rebecca’s hand as it moved against her, giving and taking so that Nadja’s climax would be what she wanted it to be.

“Mark, Mark, Mark…”

“That is not remotely the first time I’ve heard that, cousin. I’m glad it turns you on.”

He smiled as she continued to ride out her pleasure and turned his attention downward. He was reminded of not that long ago when he had watched Damien in his bed, the sun across him, lighting him like the god he was; but he was a god, too.

He grasped Damien’s leg, holding him tighter and had his other hand in hair. His mouth grazed his cousin’s.

“I still have no idea how something can feel this good,” he murmured the words against those warm lips.

“You make me feel this good, Mark.”

“Me first, then you.”

“But…”

“Rebecca?’

“Mark first, then you.”

“Sucker. I’m enjoying this, but I want more.”

“I’m merely one dish at this delectable banquet. Plenty more to sample.”

He could have come right now, the sights and sounds of the ladies and their pleasurings, Damien’s gorgeous body beneath his ready hands, but he would make it last for as long as he could. His mouth landed on Damien’s; there would be not stopping until the pair of them climaxed.

Mark kissed down, and took Damien’s his right nipple in his mouth, tugging and pulling, and he felt Damien’s hands in his hair, grasping.

“Fuck…”

He looked at over at them. She and Nadja had switched positions so that and what he had missed with one, he was now getting in spades with the other.

There was a small patch of hair, otherwise, she was bare. As before, even in the low light, he could see the glistening of her wetness as Nadja’s stilettoed fingers stroked, petted and rubbed Rebecca’s cunt, practiced fingers every now and again, placing extra pressure on that delicate jewel.

“Mark likes what he sees. We like what we see. I wonder if he has a preference yet.”

He buried his face in the crook of Damien’s neck, biting where he had before, but on the other shoulder, and his cousin made that sound again, the one he had never heard him make before.

“Oh, Damien, you have no idea how much I’m loving that I’m making it very difficult for you to wait.”

Rebecca had not been as loud when she had come, and apparently Mark had missed it, but the pair were now admiring him and Damien, and the more they looked, the more Mark liked it. He kept watching them as his left hand moved down Damien’s chest and found his cock, making him gasp.

He smiled. “Oh, I think Mark has definitely come to a decision.”

He liked being watched. He like being to subject of someone else’s sexual fantasies, or sexual tableau in order to provide them with release and pleasure. He could manipulate what he was doing to change how someone else got off…or whether they got off at all.

He turned his attention back to Damien, and he looked into those blue eyes, the ones he wanted to drown in and everything about everything that was happening was aligning something inside of him that was making him feel like him more than anything ever had. This was right, pure, sure, real, and it made him feel so fucking good.

“You, them, us…if this is being wicked, sinful, immoral, and corrupt, then I will gladly go to absolutely all the Hells there are to keep doing this forever. I love you, Damien. Don’t stop looking at me.”

And the lever that he had been using to keep it all in check was pulled and he gave himself over to most delicious orgasm he had ever had. So far. He smirked as he thought about the one he wanted more than anything; the one he would have with Damien’s cock buried inside him.

“Damien!”

His pleasure was ebbing and receding, and he rode it, taking every ounce of pleasure he could until it completely disappeared, and he was left to bask in its afterglow. He kissed Damien’s forehead.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“Mark…”

He smiled as his cousin’s head fell against his chest, and he felt tremors moved through Damien’s body. He was holding himself back and it was taking nearly everything he had.

“I have such a sweet, wicked man. Keep waiting. Look at me, please.”

Damien did as he was told.

“I am giving them you in absolute, rapturous ecstasy. You in the grips of not just sexual frenzy, but giving yourself over to someone you truly love, free and unfettered by ego, which is damn near impossible where you’re concerned. I’m a sinner; you’re my sin, Damien. They’re the dark; I live in shadow. Give me everything you’ve got because whatever it is, I can take it.”

A howl rang through the room as Damien’s orgasm moved through him, possessing every inch of his body and he shook with its release.

Mark held him, pressed him close and whispered to him as Damien took every dram of pleasure he could, his movements slowing until they came to a stop, and with a grunt, he collapsed against him.

The ladies were well practiced to seeing to him when he was like this, and they joined him and Damien on the bed.

“Well done.”

There was no sarcasm in Rebecca’s voice.

There was a groan and Damien pushed himself off of him and flopped back first onto the bed.

“The agreement was if you fell asleep, and they were into it, I fuck them. You are getting sleepy. Your eyelids are getting heavy.” He pretended to wave a watch in front of his face.

“Nice try.”

Damien sat up and regarded him.

“Every time I think I know you, Mark, you prove me wrong.”

“I’d like to request a lightening up of the festivities…if that’s possible for the pair of you.” He moved a pointed finger between Damien and Rebecca.

“They are a pair of Dour Daves, aren’t they are?”

Nadja had done up the laces on her top and was handing Rebecca her robe, and he smiled as he stood up and retrieved his underwear and put them on, adjusting himself so he was comfortable. He returned to her.

“A pair of Serious Susans if there were ones. My cousin is going to have to do without my attention for a while. You might be my sin, too.”

“Welcome to the dark side, Mark. We have cookies.”

She ran a pink and black nail down his chest.

“Do you have a robe, not that I mind you in those briefs, but the A/C is on full blast. It can get chilly quickly.”

“I’m sure Damien has plenty. Just let me…”

He hadn’t intended for her to get it, but she did and returned with a red one that matched his briefs, and she held it out for him to slip it on and felt uncomfortable with her treating him like was to the manor born.

“Uh…”

“It’s okay, I’ve got it.”

He watched as Damien took the robe from her, seemingly exchanging a kiss for it, and then held it out for him, and he slipped his arms through the holes.

 “Here, my Lord, your dressing gown. Need a cuppa? Your evening paper? Shall I fetch your slippers, your nibs?”

“Remind me again why I love you?” He cinched the belt around his waist.

“I’m rich; I’m good looking, and I plan on having my cock so far up your ass, you’ll never forget me.”

“That’s a start.” He leaned over and kissed him. “I can’t be the only need who needs to eat and so forth. Carl needs out, too.”

Damien was ahead of him and had taken Rebecca’s hand as they made their way out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen.

“I guess that means for the next little while, you’re my date.” He picked up her right hand and kissed it.

“You don’t realize how extraordinary you really are, do you?”

“I love my parents, but I can honestly say, that the only people whose favor I care about earning are the three other people in this house. How you, Rebecca, and Damien see me is all that matters. I want us to be us. Extraordinary sounds…I don’t know…extra. I don’t want you to ever think that I put anything on when it comes to anyone of you, but you, especially. I’d cut out my own heart before I ever hurt you.” He picked and lifted part of the robe he was wearing. “You’re not my servant or my maid.”

“You’d do it for me.”

“I know. Hang on.” He went to the bathroom, and there, on the back of the door, hung her robe. He came back and took off the robe Damien had just put on.

“Your thigh covered in Damien’s stickiness is making difficult for me to concentrate.”

“That makes two of us, but don’t tell him I said that. May I?”

He held out the rob and she slipped her arms through. She turned around and he cinched the belt.

“And just so we’re clear, I don’t want you covered up…unless you want to. It’s weird. I know.”

“It’s okay.”

He turned and put back his arms and she slipped his robe onto him. He faced her and she cinched it for him.

“Don’t we make a gorgeous couple.”

“That we do.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It’s not only good boys who know.”

“Know what?”

“That you have to eat everything on your plate before you get dessert. Holds true for wicked boys, too.”

“If you really wanted to, you could have absolutely all the dessert you wanted, right now.”

“Anticipation is nice, and I want you to know that I understand that you are worth waiting for and your affections need to be earned, not given. Always.”

“You really don’t understand how extraordinary you are, Mark Thorn.”

“Perhaps. May I escort you to the kitchen?” He gave her his arm.

“Oh, don’t mind if I do, guvnah,”

She put her arm in his and together, they made their way downstairs to join Rebecca and Damien.