By His Rules Read online

  rolled Aiden over, pulled him onto his knees, and kissed

  him. Aiden kissed back hungrily. “Stand up,” Scott

  whispered.

  Aiden stood. Scott circled him. He fingered the

  bruises on Aiden’s ass, murmuring, “Very nice.” He

  rolled one of Aiden’s swollen nipples between his thumb

  and forefinger, smiling as Aiden’s breath caught. He put

  a hand around Aiden’s throat and applied the slightest

  pressure. Aiden’s heart sped up. Then he moved his

  hand down and stroked Aiden’s chest, his stomach, and

  brushed over Aiden’s stiffening cock. Aiden whimpered.

  “Get dressed.” Scott motioned to a small wooden

  chair in the corner, where Aiden’s clothes were folded.

  Aiden remembered bending over that same chair last

  night, being told to keep his palms flat on the seat while

  Scott strapped him with a thick leather belt.

  Aiden dressed quickly.

  “Sit,” Scott ordered.

  Aiden sat on the wooden chair, his aching ass

  protesting.

  Scott took Aiden’s chin in his hand and stroked

  Aiden’s jaw with his thumb. “You could be a decent sub

  with some training,” Scott said.

  Aiden felt the flash of anger again. He was a good

  sub. Any top would attest to that. It was Aiden who

  could afford to be discerning, Aiden who was sought

  after, Aiden who reserved the right to judge a top’s

  prowess. Something of his outrage must have shown in

  his eyes, because a faint smile appeared on Scott’s lips.

  “Do you agree?” Scott asked.

  Aiden dropped his gaze. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Look at me.”

  Aiden did.

  “Would you consider entering my service?”

  “Wh-what do you mean, Sir?”

  “I mean… ” Scott leaned forward so that his

  whisper blasted heat into Aiden’s ear. “Are you willing

  to be trained? Will you come here multiple times per

  week to be fucked, whipped, and tortured? Will you

  serve me and only me, until you’re the best sub I can

  make you?” Scott grabbed Aiden’s hair, not pulling but

  holding it firmly. “Will you admit I own your body, and

  that your only desire, when you’re in my presence, is to

  please me? And do you understand that when you fail to

  do so, I will punish you severely?” Scott sank his teeth

  into the side of Aiden’s neck and bit down until Aiden

  whimpered. “Do you want to learn what it means to

  submit, Shithead, or do you want to stay what you are—

  a pretty boy who calls himself submissive but only ever

  really thinks about his own desires?”

  “I do not!” Aiden glared at Scott, startled by his

  own outburst.

  “Don’t you?” Scott let go of Aiden’s hair and

  straightened up. “I imagine you’ve pleased some men in

  the past. Men who don’t really know what they want—

  who call themselves doms because it makes them feel

  powerful but who have no real control over themselves

  or over you.”

  Aiden’s skin prickled. He knew Scott was right.

  Most tops he played with didn’t seem truly in control.

  There was usually something a little sad and desperate

  about them. They liked to give orders, they liked to have

  their dicks sucked, but they didn’t really know how to

  earn Aiden’s surrender. His trust.

  Was that such a bad thing? Nobody could be a total

  top or a total bottom 24-7—that was the kind of shit you

  read about in stories. BDSM play could be intense,

  painful, and a complete mindfuck—but it was play. It

  was meant to turn you on and get you off. “I’ve never

  had anyone complain about my level of submission, Sir,”

  Aiden said as civilly as he could manage. And you weren’t

  exactly complaining last night, when you were shooting down

  my throat…

  Scott shrugged. “It’s up to you. If you’re satisfied

  with what you are, then walk away. Spend your life

  haunting the clubs, searching for someone who will give

  you what you’re secretly longing for.” He leaned

  forward again. “Get out of my house, little boy, if all you

  want is to play games.”

  “I don’t… ” Aiden paused, swallowed.

  Scott lifted an eyebrow. “Yes?”

  “I don’t just want to play games.” If Scott had

  something else in mind besides games, Aiden was all for

  it.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Scott took a step back. “Three nights a week.

  Monday, Wednesday, and Sunday. You come here

  straight after work. The door will be unlocked. Strip,

  kneel in my hall, and don’t speak. You may wait there

  thirty seconds, ten minutes, three hours, or all night. I’ll

  get to you when I have time. I’ll play with you any way I

  like. I may whip your ass or stick something in it to

  prepare you for my cock later. I may tell you exactly

  what I think about your pathetic little dick. I may just

  stand silently and watch you sweat. Got it?”

  Aiden wiped his palms on his jeans. “Yes, Sir.”

  “When I dismiss you from the hall, you go to the

  bathroom and shower. You make sure your ass and

  groin are shaved.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You then go into the bedroom, kneel, and wait for

  me.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I’m gonna push you, Shithead.”

  Aiden swallowed. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “I know your type,” Scott said softly, stroking

  Aiden’s hair. “Pretty little subbie boy, used to getting

  what he wants. You take a couple of spankings, spend

  some time tied up, but at the end of the night, you get

  off. You feel satisfied. And that’s what you want, isn’t it?

  You want your needs met.”

  “No, Sir.” Aiden flared again, but whether from

  anger at the injustice of the accusation or embarrassment

  over its accuracy, it was hard to say.

  “Bondage, beatings, clamps, collars—they’re all just

  means to a more powerful orgasm, aren’t they?”

  “I—Sometimes, Sir.”

  “Not here,” Scott said, stroking Aiden’s cheek with

  his knuckles. “Not in this house.” He dealt Aiden a hard

  backhand across the cheek. “Here, you’re just a piece of

  shit.”

  Aiden’s eyes watered, and he clutched his cheek.

  Scott held out a hand, and Aiden hesitated to take it.

  Scott’s eyes hardened, and he snapped his fingers.

  “Don’t ever make me tell you something twice,” he

  ordered, pulling Aiden up. “Let me see.” He peeled

  Aiden’s hand away from his cheek and rubbed the red,

  swollen patch he’d created. “Yeah, that hurt, didn’t it?”

  he asked with what sounded like real sympathy.

  Aiden nodded.

  “You’re used to being a good boy, aren’t you?”

  Aiden looked at him, confused.

  “Unless you’re role-playing. Unless you’re in a

  scene where you have to be naughty. But in real life, you

  try to be goo
d, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Scott nodded thoughtfully, stroking Aiden’s hair in

  a way that made Aiden want to purr—despite the fact

  that he was still angry at Scott for slapping him.

  “No scenes here. You’re you. You’re mine. And

  you’re not always going to be able to be good.

  Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Do you have questions for me before I dismiss

  you for the day?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Your training starts next Monday as soon as you

  get off work. Don’t change; don’t eat. Come straight here.

  I want you to have the week to think about this, about

  me. If you change your mind, simply don’t come

  Monday night. But I won’t give you a second chance. Am

  I clear?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Another thing—during the week, as you prepare

  for your first night of training, you’re not to touch

  yourself.”

  Aiden’s jaw nearly dropped. How could he

  possibly… especially after being hard all night?

  “If you have an orgasm between now and Monday,

  I will know.”

  How? Aiden wanted to demand.

  “Is there a problem?” Scott asked, watching Aiden’s

  face carefully.

  “No, Sir.”

  “I want you to stay focused on me, on your

  training, and on what it means to submit. Truly submit.

  Not just drop a few ‘sirs’ here and there.”

  Aiden nodded, trying not to let his gaze fall. Scott’s

  eyes were hard and dark, but there was something in his

  expression, a distant warmth, a hidden longing, that

  flooded Aiden with determination. He wanted Scott to

  look on him with kindness. He wanted Scott to be proud

  of him. He wanted to belong to somebody, not just for a

  night, but forever.

  Where did that come from? Aiden Cole rarely thought

  about long-term relationships. He was a new character

  every night, serving a new master. This arrangement

  with Scott was only temporary—for the purpose of

  training.

  “I want to hear you say something.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Yes, Sir, what?”

  “Yes, Sir, I’ll—I won’t touch myself. I’ll do what you

  say.”

  Scott patted his cheek. “Yes,” he said. “You will.”

  Scott wore a tight T-shirt, and through it Aiden

  could see ridges of muscle. He thought about what Scott

  had said last night about Aiden needing to bulk up.

  Aiden figured he could hit the gym hard this week. He’d

  never felt his body was inadequate before, but Scott’s

  standards were high. And Aiden was going to meet those

  standards.

  Scott didn’t speak as he drove Aiden to his car, still

  parked behind Obey. It was earlier than Aiden had

  thought—just after seven o’clock. As Aiden got out, Scott

  said, “One week to change your mind.”

  Aiden met his eyes without fear or doubt. “I’m not

  going to change my mind, Sir,” he said calmly. “I’m

  ready.”

  Scott gave him a slight nod, then put his car in gear

  and drove away.

  As Aiden walked to his car, he noticed two figures

  standing outside the club, one tall and lean, the other

  short and round. The shorter figure glanced Aiden’s way

  and waved briefly. It was Daddy, and the man with him

  was Keaton Hughes—the top who was apparently out of

  Aiden’s league. For a bizarre second, Aiden wondered if

  Daddy and Keaton had hooked up. But they were fully

  clothed, standing against Obey’s brick wall and talking

  while Daddy smoked a cigarette. Had they been here all

  night? Keaton followed Daddy’s gaze, raised one hand,

  and smiled.

  He doesn’t seem like much of a top at all, thought

  Aiden, waving back. Though he had to admit, that smile

  was something to behold. He got in his car and drove

  home.

  Chapter Three

  At work, Aiden didn’t even notice the ring on

  Hera’s finger until she stuck it in his face for the

  umpteenth time and said, “A hem.”

  “What’s that?” Aiden asked. They were on break at

  Joe’s, the local steakhouse where they both waited tables.

  They sat out back, the curb cold through Aiden’s jeans. If

  he looked closely, he could see his breath.

  “What’s it look like?” Hera lit a cigarette.

  “A cheap zirconium ring?”

  “Exactly.” She exhaled and grinned. “Kim and

  Sloane and I made it official.”

  “What, your status as the only three lesbians in

  history who don’t know how to use a socket wrench?”

  “We’re engaged.”

  Aiden tried not to let his surprise show. “Hate to

  break it to you, but polygamy’s still illegal. Even in

  Utah.”

  She swatted his shoulder. “We’re not actually

  getting married. It’s symbolic.”

  “Symbolic of your what? Your coven’s union under

  the Earth Mother?”

  “We are not a coven.”

  “Kim’s a witch.”

  “She’s a vegan.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “No pointy hats.”

  Aiden shrugged. “She’s always throwing stuff

  called, like, ‘arrowroot powder’ and ‘agave nectar’ into

  pots. You tell me that’s not witchcraft.”

  “It’s dairy-free living.”

  “Whatever.”

  Hera wrapped her thin jacket tighter around her

  shoulders. “You could try being happy for me.”

  “Congratulations on your symbolic engagement to

  a riptide of estrogen.”

  “Thanks. Want some of my granola bar?”

  “Not hungry.” Aiden bit a nail and examined the

  ragged edge. “So you don’t feel freaked out at all? Like

  you’ve got a ball and chain on your leg? Or, I guess, two

  balls and a chain?”

  “You’re thinking of what’s between your legs. I

  don’t feel freaked out. I feel… happy.”

  “It’s too bad you can’t tell your parents.”

  Hera stared at the shopping plaza in the distance.

  She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Yeah.”

  “I think you could. Your mom at least. She’s cool.”

  “Right. They had a hard enough time when I came

  out. Polyamory? Uh-uh.”

  “I mean, they named you Hera. They had to have

  known you’d turn out weird.”

  “You’re one to talk about weird.”

  “What are the odds Joe’s would end up with two

  perverts working for them?” Aiden asked. “Welcome to

  Joe’s. Our specials tonight are ménage marriages with a

  side of sexual deviance… ”

  “Speak for yourself. I don’t go in for the whips and

  chains shit. Polyamory is not perverted.”

  Aiden grinned. He liked Hera a lot. She was

  twenty-four, a year older than he was. She was a sculptor

  who’d forgone college, deciding she’d rather work a shit

  job like Joe’s and sculpt in her spare time than spend

  money on a degree. Her
girlfriends, Kim and Sloane,

  were pretty cool, though the few times Aiden had met

  Kim, she hadn’t said much.

  He couldn’t imagine trying to make a committed

  three-way relationship work. A one-night threesome was

  hard enough. But Hera took the challenges of polyamory

  in stride. It really was amazing that at Joe’s of all places,

  he’d found someone he could talk to about his lifestyle.

  Even if Hera didn’t consider her poly relationship

  “kinky” or “deviant,” most people would. And it helped

  to know there was at least one person he could count on

  to keep his own secrets safe.

  Rima Wells, their manager, stuck her head out the

  back door. “Break’s over. We’ve got tables up the ass.”

  The door shut.

  Aiden got slowly to his feet. He ran his thumb over

  the nail he’d bitten too short, liking the sting of it.

  “Speaking of ‘up the ass,’” Hera said. “You’re

  walking kind of bowlegged today.”

  “Am not.”

  “Was he good?”

  “I’m not one to whip and tell… ”

  “Like you’d ever be the one doing the whipping.

  C’mon, tell me quick, before Rim Job comes back out

  here.”

  Aiden leaned close to her. “His name’s Scott. I’m

  seeing him again next week.”

  “Wow, a second date? Next thing you know, you’ll

  be the one with a cheap zirconium ring.”

  “Shut up. He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met. He’s a

  real dom.”

  “Ooh. What’s a ‘real dom’ do?”

  “Whatever the hell he wants. He doesn’t care about

  what I want—he expects whatever pleasure I get to come

  from serving him. I’m going to see him three times a

  week. He’s gonna train me.”

  “So what, you’re like, his slave?”

  “No. I’m his sub, but it’s… real. We’re not playing

  around.” Aiden bit his lip, frustrated that he couldn’t

  explain it better.

  Hera put out her cigarette. “Well, hey, be careful,

  all right?”

  “Be careful,” Aiden mocked. “Jeez, does being

  married to two people give you double the mom

  syndrome?” It bothered him that he’d never really be

  able to explain Scott to anyone. But maybe that was part

  of what was so incredible about this experience—that it

  was his experience and couldn’t be shared. Scott made

  him feel alive, powerful, full of potential. Scott was

  going to break him down and build him back up. No,

  better, he was going to force Aiden to build himself back