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Give me everything else. Whatever you have left.
When I had asked for that on the break through day with Ilmari, I hadn't considered “everything else” included the fucking beast that lurked inside of the Finn. That honed predator’s eye for weakness and teeth and claws to defend what's his — and tear apart any threat, internal or external. There was a rumor one of the goalies pissed himself on Olympic ice when he skated out to face off with the beast that typically only surfaced when Ilmari was in the zone.
Now I'm staring down that same mad eyed Finn who looks like he could rip me apart with his teeth and bare hands. Underneath all of the repressed flight response, it feels electrifying.
This is everything that's left. Mars would never give this part of himself to Rachel or Jake. As much as she takes from us all, none of us would risk coming close to actually hurting the mother of our children, the sun we all circle. And then there's Jake, with his chirping and scrapping, who will look at you with those big puppy eyes if there's any real perceived hard feelings.
That's what has me in this standoff. I was a miserable dick to Jake, and he was to the point of angry tears when Mars and Rachel came back from the park. And then I broke the cardinal rule, getting defensive with Hurricane when she immediately got onto me about it, wanting to fix everything.
She doesn't get there's nothing I can fix with my screwed up brain.
I showed her that. And I showed just where the line is before our hulking Finnish husband grabbed me by the back of the shirt like a kitten and hauled me outside where the kids couldn’t see or hear.
Now Mars looks like he wants to watch me bleed.
“You're being unreasonable. Stand down.”
“Fuck. No.” And for good measure, I spit on the deck planks.
My knuckles are white from how hard they're clenched. I'm fucked. I'm so fucking fucked.
Good.
Take me out, Mars. Save me from doing the dirty work myself.
The darkness inside of me pulses with sinister, masochistic delight at how shockingly blue Ilmari’s eyes are when the whites are showing from this amount of rage. His lips curl back in a disgusted sneer and there's those teeth I want to feel against my pulse point —
“You've made your choice then.”
“Have you taken too many pucks to the head? Yeah, I've been clear from the beginning — oof!”
Imari rushes at me. A rush of preparatory adrenaline triggers as my forward trained response times sees the move coming. But there's no stopping this bear of a man. It would be a futile resist. One I'd normally like to go down fighting, but that toxic self-hatred wants to know if I've finally pushed hard enough against this man, against the ones I love, to clear out every rational thought.
The world flips upside down as I'm tossed over a broad shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes. There isn't anything else said, no stopping to gather my slides or anything, before I'm dumped in a swearing, seething mess into the passenger side of Mars’s truck.
This is it.
They've all had it.
We are pulling into Mars’s apartment when I start to consider what the consequences of this also includes: my kids. Shit. Maybe I'm getting shoved off to the apartment, but they wouldn't be cruel enough to keep me from them.
No, cruelty is my expertise.
As he shifts into park, Ilmari doesn't look at me when he speaks. “What color are you?”
What. The. Fuck.
“Are you serious right now, are you turned on by this shit? Your daddy issues must go a lot deeper than we thought —”
My words are cut off by a hand around my neck. The faint pressure around my windpipe isn't enough to hurt or choke, but it's enough to get my attention, that's for damn sure. I swallow under the collar of his grip.
“You may not be ready to admit to the error of your ways, but I have to know first. I will respect your answer even if you are currently undeserving of my respect.”
Instead of hurting, the words only flare up righteous indignation. I'm on fire with it. Who the hell does this guy think he is? Where does he get off? As if respect matters. As if I deserve anyone's respect.
That's the fucking point.
Proven by how hard I'm getting right now.
His fingers squeeze ever so slightly tighter and before I have to squeak to get it out, I growl, “Green.”
I'm released with a less than gentle shove. “Get inside.”
Walking barefoot isn’t new for me. I’m well adjusted to Florida and all of its questionable surfaces. Curiosity is driving me to follow the Finn’s orders. As soon as he mentions the color coded safe word system for our kinkier play, my insides are writhing in a twisted mess of lust and self loathing.
How often after my career ending injury did I let guys use my mouth in the bathroom of some dirty ass club just to remind myself how worthless I was?
I’m supposed to be older and wiser now. Sorry, kids, your dad is still a piece of shit.
Mars throws open the door to his old home and grunts, gesturing at me to go down the hall. My skin is buzzing with sick anticipation. This man is capable of mind-blowing ideas in the bedroom. But I don't know what he has churning up in that maelstrom of a mind right now, not when a few minutes ago I thought he was dumping me.
With the intent of a man on a mission, Mars uses his body to shepherd me to the guest room.
I hit the brakes when I cross the threshold.
I haven't spent much time in Mars’s townhome, mostly just the sauna and his freezing cold pool when my knee is really acting up — or I want some temperature play for foreplay — but I sure as hell had no idea there was a BDSM style bed here. There are ropes and cuffs laid out on black satin sheets, attached to metal links in the bed frame, and several toys including a gag and flogger sit on the bedside table alongside his favorite brand of lube.
“Geez, man, do you just leave the place set up like this? Seems awkward if unexpected company comes around.”
“I will answer you now for the last time.” The door shuts resolutely with a metal click behind us. “I had this prepared as I could sense your growing restlessness. I can see now that I waited for too long. We are going to settle your mind, body and spirit before you are allowed to return home and apologize to our spouses.”
“Sounds like a reward —”
“You're done talking without permission,” Mars cuts me off sternly. I spin on him, ready to mouth off, but his blue eyes are like a North tempest and the words are sucked right from my throat as he stares down at me with bone melting contempt. “From now on, there will be no speaking unless to answer me or to express a change in your color status. And when you do speak to me, you will refer to me as ‘herra’. Understood?”
I clench my jaw stubbornly. A smirk curls my lips when his nostrils flare at my refusal to answer.
“I asked you, am I understood?” he repeats, voice deadly calm.
“Do I have a choice?”
“We all have choices. You have already made yours and are now facing the consequences.”
“I'm not a child —”
Before I can finish getting the words out, Mars turns on his heels and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him without another sound. I stand there in the echoing thud of the door shutting.
Alone.
With my thoughts and with the creeping feelings of my inadequacy.
Why can't I just give in to this game? Mars is giving me an out, or more like a way back in. I look over my shoulder, away from the doorway where a mountain of Viking god just stormed out, and instead let my gaze feast over the toys laid out.
My eyes snag on a cock ring and blind fold this time.
Fuck, I hate both of them. But the pain of being denied completion… Yeah, that might be fucking delicious right now. If I can convince Mars I will play the game, call him by his stupid fucking name, maybe I can bat my pretty eyes and flex my sweet ass that I know he loves and avoid the blindfold.
As for being tied up …
I only submit to Mars in this way. Even when Jake tops me, I'm a total power bottom and I brat him until he's pounding me so senseless I can't form coherent thoughts.
But with my bear of a husband?
The darkness lurches inside of me. That subspace wants to sink in, wants to blanket my mind and limbs and be good for him … but fuck, it feels like letting that sinister part of me get off easy.
I don't deserve it.
I don't deserve any of it.
But maybe I deserve the pool of dread collecting low in my gut at the realization Mars knows me so well he had this prepared. He knew I was on edge, even though I didn't recognize it until I snapped on Jake and then Rachel.
Like a hit to the base of the skull with a hammer, I realize how Ilmari has been circling me for several days like a shark sizing up his next meal. Waiting for the right opportunity to strike.
Shit, have I just compared myself to chum?
It matches how I feel.
But I don't know if I can give him full submission. My insides tighten at the thought. No, I want to self destruct, I want to implode, I want to go scorched earth on my entire fucking life —
Shit!
The door opening once more makes me jump. Ilmari steps inside, closes the door once more, and then faces me, arms crossed, like he's guarding the exit like a damn net. He's imposing as hell. He's as big as the fucking door.
My throat is so dry, it clicks when I swallow.
He cocks a single brow at me.
The ground feels shaky beneath me. My thoughts are slippery like oil. I want to give in, fuck, but do I want to.
But I can't.
Every stubborn fucking bone in my body is stuck in place. Sweat is lining my brow, my skin is twitching beneath the fabric of my shirt and I want to fidget under the weight of Ilmari's heavy stare.
As if he can sense how my heart is racing in my chest, my lungs are constricting like I've been running lines on the ice, my Finn’s eyes soften ever so slightly. Those frigid, frothing blue waters still.
“Do you trust me?”
I suck my bottom lip between my teeth. Shit, shit, shit. Another give. He keeps giving and I'm such a selfish fucking bastard —
Fuck!
I squeeze my eyes shut and speak before I can talk myself further into this abyss, “Yes, herra.”
“You will be on your knees when you speak to me.”
Like the flip of the switch, that softness is nowhere to be found. Pure authority oozes from Ilmari. I snap my eyes open to see if he’s being serious even though I know what I just agreed to. A shiver runs down my spine, straight to my cock, at the unmoving expression I find.
It’s like my dick made the decision to give into Ilmari way before my mouth or words could get there because I’m almost completely hard already.
Yeah, alright, God, I want to be on my knees for this man. My mind is still resisting the hazy warm submersion into sub space, but the animal inside of me wants to be used and abused in any way Mars will give me, so I look around for something to kneel on so I don’t tweak my knee when I go down.
Ilmari growls in disapproval.
Fuck, what does he want from me? Is this about real pain, because enough blood is rushing beneath my waist band to convince me it's worth it right now, but we’re both old enough to know that in a few hours we’ll both be pissed when I can’t walk —
“On. The. Bed.”
The ground out words spark recognition. Right. The sex bed. That will be soft to kneel on. But if I’m getting on the bed, should I undress first? I’m so used to directing these things and yet it’s like I’ve never participated in anything like this before. Well, have I? We’ve all gotten kinky before, but full on BDSM?
“You’re thinking too much,” Ilmari growls. “I’ve given you an order. Siirtyä.”
Fine. He can worry about the logistics. I turn to get onto the bed and just as I lift a knee up, I feel a firm swat to the ass that sends me off balance and falling forward into the mattress.
“Shit, what did you —”
“Did I say to turn your back on me?”
“No, herra.”
“Fix it.”
The muscles in my jaw feather with restraint as I pick myself back up and turn around. I’m kneeling on the bed now, my hands gripping the fabric of my sweatpants over my thighs as I stare through the auburn pieces of hair that have fallen into my face. If I look down, I know my hard cock is fully visible.
Ilmari clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth at the sight.
“What did you expect?” I deadpan, and then add as a second thought, “Herra.”
His eyes light up like a cat circling a mouse. He knows I’m going to screw this up and soon, knows my mouth and attitude always get me into trouble. I’m going to get punished, there’s no doubt about it. And Ilmari is going to enjoy the fuck out of doling out that punishment.
My insides rev right up at the thought.
Closing the distance between us, he still has to look down his handsome nose at me because he’s such a hulking mass of sexy Finn. “Self control … or at the very least, self preservation.”
“Are you going to hurt me, herra?”
“Me? No.” Ilmari leans forward, straight faced as ever. “But you will cause yourself much pain by the end of this.”
I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my lips. The darkness howls with anticipation inside of my twisted cage of a body.
Here we fucking go.
My whole body is on fire. It’s so much further than I’ve ever pushed myself before, this needling inferno pinpointed into every nerve ending. If Ilmari could wheedle his way beneath my nail beds, weave himself into the strands of my hair to tug each one individually, I think he would — it’s definitely not for lack of trying that he hasn’t already.
“I — Fuck! — Herra — you … have to …”
Gulping for air, I struggle to speak. Just like I’m struggling to stay upright where my hands are stretched out in front of me, clasped together and with only a long enough lead from the bed’s metal ring for Mars to contort me into the next position. But right now there’s no contortion, only my flaming core muscles aching from front to back as I strain to stay where I was placed on my elbows. My leg with the bad knee is hugging one of Ilmari’s thick thighs and the other is a leveraging post as he slams into me from behind between swats to my ass from the flogger.
My fucking cock is going to explode, my balls feel tight and impossibly heavy all at once from the squeeze of the cock ring that’s keeping them from being able to empty.
I need to come.
Fuck, if there’s a god, let me come —
The flat piece of leather that collides with my raw ass cheek comes down with a vengeance.
“There is no God to rescue you in this bed, Caleb. There is only you. Will you finally accept that?”
How is he speaking so coherently while keeping up the relentless pace he’s pounding into me with?
My arms shake like leaves, trying to compensate for how badly my abs are screaming to collapse. My voice doesn’t sound half as quakey at least when I answer, “Accept what? I’ve followed your rules —”
“You’re still speaking back.” Smack. “You have not —” The next hit rips an unholy moan from my throat, from somewhere so deep within me I think Ilmari has ripped away some lining of my lungs with that precise hit to the most sensitive spot of my worked over skin — “submitted, Caleb.”
I hate the cold sound of my name off his tongue.
I’ve been acting out against it and he’s caught on, been provoking me with it, but right now with my painfully hard and swollen cock slapping against my stomach — I just want relief.
I want to hear him call me his gift.
I want to feel him come inside of the slippery, hollowed out mess he’s made of my insides.
And more than anything, I want to let this orgasm erupt from me like a sinner confessing at church.
“What do you want, herra?” I ask — fuck, no, I beg. “Please, just — fuck — tell me what to do, tell me …”
I stop talking.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
It’s not my choice to cut off my words, it’s my throat choking off as emotion wells within me. I finally let my head hang down, dropping between my exhausted arms as moisture starts to gather in my eyes. The head rush from the inversion only makes the pressure of the rush of emotion worse, but I just … want … what?
“I. Want. You. To. Submit.”
Each word is emphasized with his hips slamming into my ass, the slap of skin on skin from his heavy balls. He’s so big, I swear it deosn’t matter how many times we’re together, it’s like he’s carving a new path inside of me with his name fucking seared into the walls. He owns me. I’m his. What the fuck else can I do?
Those warm, dark waters I’ve been denying, I’ve been shoving off to the side in my mind, beckon towards me. Whispering “give in” like I’ve been missing the biggest clue in all of this.
I haven’t gone into my subspace and he knows, he can tell. Yeah, I brat all of the time, but it’s different when I’m in that headspace. Maybe I can play it off with Jake or Hurricane, but not my Finn. No, Ilmari sees me.
My shoulders shake as tears wet my cheeks and I’m nodding into the mattress as I let the comforting blanket of submission coat the inner darkness within me.
Let him take care of me.
“Y-yours, herra,” I whimper. “I'm yours. I'm done fighting. J-just …”
Ilmari roars as he comes inside of me, filling me to the brim. The hot, tacky liquid spills out between his thrusts, coating my ass, dripping down the back of my thighs. I gasp like it's my own orgasm. My whole body shudders and clamps down, making Ilmari swear, but as my cock jumps and the agonizing reality that nothing is going to follow the explosion of intense stimulation —
I cry out.
“Shhh, easy, aarre.” Oh, sweet hell, that one word has the tears coming faster. Ilmari maneuvers me onto my back, supporting my thighs on his so my weight isn't on my aching ass. He starts back a slow, steady pulse into my wrecked insides as his calloused hand that has edged me within an inch of my life wraps around to remove the cock ring. “I have you.”
And I've never trusted those words to my core like I do in this moment.
As I give myself over completely to Ilmari, the inferno whips higher and higher inside of me. I won't last with the cock ring off. I'm going to come all over both of us with tears running down my face.
Ilmari has my legs stretched up and hooked around his elbows, a position known to alleviate knee pain. His thumb that has new callouses from a change in workout routine brushes up and down the piercings on my erection once, twice, and then sweeps across the weeping head and that's all it takes as he hits that sweet spot inside of me.
The world screeches to a halt as the bottom falls out beneath me. I'm free falling through release. My whole body seizes with it as I shout myself hoarse.
I lose all sense of direction except for where Ilmari and I are joined. That's it, that's my way home, my true north. My husband who knows me, sees me, won't let me bring myself down.
He rocks me through the aftershocks and bends down to kiss away my tears with his soft lips and his bushy beard. One of his hands skates up my side, my shoulder, my arm, and then he's unclasping me from the restraint. My joints scream with relief as he rubs at the cuff imprints, guides my jelly arms down. He kisses me through the pins and needles, cradles my face and whispers sweet nothings in Finnish to ground me.
God, I love this man.
He's stopped moving inside of me, only holding himself still when I feel like I'm finally back inside of my body again. I blink up at him, dazed, and reach up to run a shaking hand through his short hair, down to scratch at his beard.
“Color?”
“Fuck,” I let out on an exhale. “I'm mortified … but green.”
“Why are you mortified?”
“I just cried during the most intense sex of my life.”
“Sounds like an appropriate response, no?”
“No, Ilmari. I don't —”
“You've cried with Jake before. And several times with Rachel.”
I frown. Traitors. “That's not that same. It wasn't during the deed. That's just fucked up.”
Ilmari bends down to kiss my nose. I scrunch it, annoyed with the infantilizing sensation of it. “It's beautiful. Thank you for letting me bear witness to it.” And damn it, there will be no convincing this stubborn bear otherwise.
I sigh deeply, bucking my hips up into him. “Why don't you let me bear witness to you painting me like one of your masterpieces again?”
He eyes some of the unused toys on the bedside table. I grin. Hell yeah, of course he's not finished with me. If Ilmari has his way, he’ll never be finished with me, with any of us, until the day Death drags him from this earth.
“You will still need to earn each orgasm…”
“Just say the word.”
“I want to hear your plan to apologize to each of our partners.”
“Done.”
“And I want you to swear that next time you start to feel this way.” He raps the side of my head. “You ask for my help before you release yourself on the household.”
My smile drops and I nod solemnly. “I swear.”
Ilmari shows his teeth in an unkind smile as his hand grips my chin. Those blue eyes ignite with electricity. “And then … I will need you to count how many times you have answered me without using my proper title in this room.”
Oh fuck.