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Worth the Fight: Giving Consent Book Three by Hawthorne, Kate (1)

1

Justin

Justin swung the flogger so hard the muscles in his shoulder protested. The satisfying sound of leather against flesh caused his cock to thicken; Micah’s pained cries did the same. Impossibly hard and long-ready to empty inside of Micah, Justin continued to swing his flogger against the red and tender flesh of Micah’s back until he heard the sound he’d been waiting for.

The noise that left Micah’s mouth sounded like pure agony wrapped in desperate arousal. He cried out like he was coming, even though Justin knew he wasn’t because he didn’t have permission to. Justin dropped the flogger on the floor and closed the distance between them, resting his palm against Micah’s hot and sweaty back.

He winced and gasped, pushing his body backward into Justin’s touch. His hands were extended above his head, cuffed and chained through an eye-bolt in an exposed ceiling beam, his ankles cuffed and spread, a steel stretcher bar keeping him just barely on balance. Micah looked amazing like this—hurting, thankful and aroused all at once.

Justin reached between Micah’s ass cheeks, still striped red from a caning session earlier in the week, and curled his fingers around the silicone base of the plug inside his ass. He tugged and Micah gasped, hips bucking. The chains rattled again and Justin’s cock leaked. He pulled the plug free with a pop and dropped it onto a towel he’d laid out earlier.

Micah mumbled, his hips jerking in time with his pained breaths.

“What’s that?” Justin asked, closing the distance between them again and wrapping his arm around Micah’s chest from behind.

“Sir,” Micah panted.

Justin looped his fingers around the collar that hung from Micah’s neck and tugged, simultaneously aligning his cock between Micah’s cheeks and pushing in.

“Who are you?” he asked with a grunt, pumping his hips upward against Micah’s thighs.

“Yours,” Micah answered.

“And who am I?” Justin didn’t have much stamina tonight. The beautiful way Micah had been crying for the past two hours brought him near the edge more times than he could count.

“Mine,” Micah answered with a sob.

Justin reached up and popped loose the emergency release on Micah’s cuffs. His arms dropped like rocks and his body crumpled, but Justin caught and steadied him.

“Make yourself come,” Justin told him, his lip twitching in pleasure when Micah awkwardly forced his erection between his restrained hands. He managed to get hold of himself, and he let the momentum of Justin’s thrusts push his own cock through his slippery grasp.

Justin fucked him earnestly, looping a foot around the spreader bar for balance. Micah whimpered, his muscles spasming around Justin as his orgasm crested. Justin jerked against him, the sweaty slap of their skin growing erratic as Justin’s cock swelled and released, pouring his orgasm into Micah.

They fell to their knees, Micah landing with a solid thud against the rug and Justin following close behind. He pushed Micah into the carpet, hands and dick smashed underneath him, and rutted into him with a rough growl until the aftershocks of his orgasm subsided.

He pulled out and leaned back, removing the restraints and bar from Micah’s ankles then flipping him over to do the same to his hands. Micah was limp and sated, a tear-stained smile painted across his face and white streaks of cum across his hands and belly.

“Thank you,” he murmured, raising a cum-covered hand toward Justin’s face. Justin leaned into the touch, eyes falling closed as Micah caressed his cheek. “I needed that.”

Justin opened his eyes and met Micah’s dreamy stare. He smiled. “I know you did, firecracker.”

Micah made an affirmative purring sound and tucked into a ball, forcing himself into Justin’s lap. He chuckled and scooted across the floor until his back hit the wall and he rearranged Micah between his legs, stroking calm passes over his tender skin.

A muffled shout from the corner drew his attention and he looked to the side, finding Landon with Gregory’s hand across his mouth, his cock shooting ribbons of cum into the air while Gregory fucked him from behind. Landon’s nipples were decorated with clamps and when Gregory reached up and twisted his finger through the sturdy chain, Justin directed his attention back to Micah.

Another smothered cry filled the room, then Gregory groaned. Micah laughed quietly in his lap, and Justin pinched him just under the armpit.

“Did you want clamps next time?” he asked, a hint of warning, but also a tease in his voice.

“If it pleases you,” Micah answered, rolling over and stretching himself out.

God, he was handsome. with a collar around his neck and cum splatters across his chest. Micah was everything Justin had wanted for his entire life made flesh. He loved Justin and hurt for him with equal pleasure.

“Good answer.” Justin shifted out from underneath Micah, resting his head on the rug. “Let me go get you some water.”

Micah smiled and closed his eyes.

Justin tucked his cock back into his pants, leaving them loose, and padded into Gregory’s kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator for a bottle of water. He found one in the back and snatched it victoriously.

Twisting the cap, he turned and saw Gregory pouring water into a glass from the kitchen sink.

“I didn’t even think I had any bottles left,” Gregory told him, turning the tap off.

“It’s a level of preparedness I don’t expect from you,” Justin admitted, taking a quick drink for himself. He glanced at his watch, it was nearly two in the morning. “So much for meeting here then going to Rapture.”

Gregory laughed. “I think everything turned out okay. Besides, it’s proven to be quite enlightening to me, the way Landon likes to watch.”

“Or be watched,” Justin countered, remembering a few weeks prior when Gregory had invited them all over then defiled Landon on top of his coffee table.

“Yeah, well, comes with age, I suppose.”

Back in the living room, Justin squatted down beside Micah and cradled his head, tipping the water bottle to his lips. Micah took it from him easily and drank the majority of it before passing it back and curling up on the floor.

“At least move to the couch,” Justin suggested, worried that beneath the thin rug, the wood floor of Gregory’s house would be too hard on Micah’s bones.

“Is that an order?” Micah muttered sleepily.

“No, firecracker, it’s not an order.”

Micah made a harrumphing sort of noise and settled back onto the rug. Justin twisted the cap back onto the bottle and set it beside Micah’s head, standing and stretching before reaching over to dig through his play bag.

The night had taken an unexpected, but agreeable turn, he reflected, rifling through leather and wood toys to find his phone. He and Micah had met Landon and Gregory for dinner and discussed plans to close out the night at Rapture. But as was the case lately, Micah had been somewhat unruly, testing Justin’s commitment to mastering him, and that was how Justin had ended up with a stripped and trussed Micah hanging in Gregory’s living room, begging to get fucked.

Justin sighed, finally wrapping his fingers around his phone. He pressed the screen and nothing happened. He tapped it again, pushing the home button on the side, and still nothing. He shoved his hand back in the bag, digging for his charger, which he plugged into the wall before sliding down to sit beside Micah, who appeared to be asleep.

This was the Micah he knew, the one who yielded with little question and took what he was given. Micah, who would try anything twice if Justin asked it of him. Micah who did as he was fucking told the first time, the second time if he was itching for a spanking. But that hadn’t been the Micah of late, who had instead opted for questioning and posturing and shooting angry glares at Justin whenever he could.

Micah blamed him for Keith’s leaving. Justin knew that. He’d known all along that bringing a third person into their relationship was a risk, but the normally pliant Micah had begged him so perfectly for a new kind of play. Justin had given in, partially, allowing Keith into their bedroom, but not allowing himself into Keith.

Justin orchestrated and pulled the strings, not disliking the way Micah looked taking their new, younger partner’s cock, but not ready to make the jump himself. Not to say that Justin wasn’t serious about moving forward with Keith because he was. Justin loved Micah and he loved how happy Keith made Micah. He loved how eager Keith was, whether it was sitting on the ground facing away while Justin engaged with their friends, or bringing him water so he didn’t have to get out of bed, or even choking Micah with his cock so Justin could watch his husband cry…Keith had accepted everything Justin had put on the table.

Except the collar.

Micah had blown up at him the night Keith returned it, not even in person but via Callum, the bartender at Rapture. Micah had told Justin it was his fault Keith turned them down. If Justin would have just fucked him. If Justin would have done this, if Justin would have done that. If Justin could have just opened his heart a little.

He did miss Keith, and he missed him beyond just missing a happy Micah. There was something vibrant and invigorating about the young sub that did appeal to him, but there was another part of Justin that liked things how they’d always been. He’d never planned on opening his relationship with Micah, putting stock in the sacredness of their vows even though their vows hadn’t ever indicated anything about exclusivity.

Micah reminded him of that often.

It hurt Justin’s heart to watch his husband—his submissive—struggle now to find happiness in those roles without Keith. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he was probably a little jealous of the way Micah had leeched onto Keith. With his curly hair and bright smile, Justin saw the appeal.

But then Keith was gone. Vanished without a word. His apartment abandoned, his phone consistently going straight to voicemail, his collar returned.

Justin’s phone buzzed angrily beside him and, for a fleeting moment, he hoped it was Keith. If he had another opportunity, maybe he could navigate this entire thing differently. Find a place for Keith not just in their bed, but also in his heart.

He swiped the screen open, his heart lurching into his chest when Keith’s name did appear on his screen. Thirteen missed calls from within the past two hours and a text that read need to talk to you, then another that said only please. His protective instincts launched into overdrive and he was ready to return the calls, glancing hopefully at a slumbering Micah, when his phone vibrated in his hand.

Assuming it was Keith again, he accepted the call without looking.

“Keith?”

“What?” A wet and strangled sounding voice answered.

Justin pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen to check the caller before placing the speaker back against his ear.

“Verity,” he corrected, “sorry, I just saw calls from Keith. I need to call him back.”

“Wait,” Verity stopped him and something in their voice made Justin not end the call.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry lacing his words.

“There’s been…” Verity trailed off, clearing their throat before pushing on. “There’s been an attack at Rapture.”

“Do you need Landon?” Justin asked, flicking his eyes up toward Gregory and Landon who were curled around each other on the couch, eyes both trained on him now.

“No,” Verity choked. “Uhm, you need to come to the hospital.”

Instinctively, Justin looked for Micah, who of course was still beside him. Justin placed a hand on Micah’s damp hair and stroked it, assuring himself that Micah was here and okay.

“Why?” he pressed. “What’s going on?”

“Callum and…” Verity cleared their throat again. “Keith. Callum and Keith were attacked tonight.”

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