With or Without Him (2 page)

He dropped to his knees, careful to let the wings splay out behind him. As he maintained his firm hold on Jeremy’s dick, he sucked on his balls one after the other, lapping at the soft skin wrinkling under his tongue, laving in long, slow strokes while Jeremy trembled and panted, his knees shaking against Tyler’s shoulders, his fingers threaded in Tyler’s hair.

“Oh fuck, fuck.” Jeremy’s breathing came in staccato gasps.

Tyler pulled on the sensitive ball sac until Jeremy wailed. He could have made him last longer, used some tricks on him, slowly milked his come until he pleaded for release but Prescott coughed twice and Tyler accepted the instruction.
Get on with it.

Wrapping his lips around the silky crown, he rubbed the top with the flat of his tongue, round and round, over and over. He teased and sucked and nipped, his mouth watering as the salty taste of pre-come burst like space dust on his tongue. Jeremy shook like a leaf about to fall from the tree.

“Fuck his mouth, Jeremy,” Prescott said. “Shove your cock into his throat. Make him take all of it.”

Jeremy tightened his hold on Tyler’s head, pressed his fingers into his skull and bucked his hips to drive into him. His eyes were glazed with lust. Jeremy wasn’t too big for him to take his whole cock, and Tyler slid his hands to his butt and let him dictate the pace.

“Fuck, fuck,” Jeremy panted. “Oh God, God.”

Tyler needed to breathe but Jeremy was close, his dick hitting the back of his mouth, pre-come and saliva dribbling down his chin. Jeremy’s cock swelled, jerked and a spurt of come jetted straight down his throat. Tyler was surprised when Jeremy pulled out before he’d finished coming. He sucked in a breath as a shot of gloopy fluid hit his lips, then his cheek. He knelt there, panting, come sliding down his face and Jeremy stared at him, eyes wide, mouth open. Then he smiled, the excitement and wonder genuine, and Tyler felt a tug that he’d not felt in a long while.

Nothing about that had been pretence which meant Jeremy was fucked in more ways than one.

As Jeremy reached for him, a naked Prescott hauled him away and Tyler was left kneeling in the middle of the rug, aware he was being eyed by a pack of slavering wolves. He didn’t look anyone in the face. The last thing he wanted to do was allow one of these men to think he was actually interested in him. That was the whole point of doing this, letting himself be used in this way. It was just fucking, nothing else. They were paying for his body but not his mind. Tyler didn’t need to get anything out of it other than a brief feeling of sexual pleasure and a wad of cash in his wallet.

But…

He grunted as someone pushed him hard in the middle of the back so he fell to all fours. A glance over his shoulder told him it was Gerald, a banker in his forties who was too rough. The jerk always told him how much money he’d made that week, about his enormous cock—it wasn’t that big—how important he was and how insignificant Tyler was. He liked to go into great detail about exactly what he wanted to do to him.

Gerald was hard, cruel and crude. He had leathery reptilian skin from too much time playing golf in Spain where he had an enormous villa and a huge pool and three servants, and Tyler hated the way the guy wrapped his hands around his neck and squeezed as he fucked him. Forget the crap about intensifying the orgasm, Gerald was a sadist. The only reason Tyler felt safe was because he was in a room with people watching and Gerald did like an audience. Tyler groaned as Gerald yanked his butt cheeks apart and spat against his hole.

“I’m on fucking fire,” Gerald said with a growl. “I almost came watching you get your arrogant mouth fucked. Not going to choke on
that
cock, but you might on mine.”

The man was delusional, but Tyler made sure the laugh bubbling inside him didn’t escape.

“I like the wings. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you look so fucking sexy. I can’t make up my mind whether to stuff your mouth first or your arse.”

He reached round to pinch Tyler’s nipples, play that Tyler didn’t mind, but with Gerald it felt as if he were trying to rip the things off. His gasp of pain made Gerald laugh. “I’ll have your arse first. You’re a fucking whore for cock, aren’t you? Tell me you want my cock stuffed in your arse.”

Fuck off and die.
Tyler didn’t see why he had to talk as well.

Gerald pressed his mouth against the crease of his butt, a hot tongue licked across his hole and he shuddered. When another guy pushed his dick against his lips, Tyler opened his mouth automatically. This was all he was, a fucking machine, a
fucking
machine. Fingers replaced the lips on his asshole, then a sheathed and lubed cock replaced the fingers and Wanker Banker Gerald shoved inside him so hard Tyler almost choked on the cock forced into his mouth.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, another settled around his neck and he heard one of his wings snap. Black feathers fluttered past his face. The pair drove into him at the same time, crushing him between them, and he felt a brief smattering of pleasure, a warm tingling sensation in his gut, but it faded fast because guilt and shame were stronger. He wasn’t sure it was even pleasure he felt, more his body’s involuntary reaction to sexual stimulation. After all, he could wank himself off no matter what mood he was in.

I hate this. I hate myself for doing this.

Stop fucking thinking.

Neither lasted long which was a relief.

Others took over. Which wasn’t.

Tyler set his mind in neutral and put a halt to everything but breathing. He didn’t care what they did so long as they used a condom. Well, he
did
care but he was being well paid not to, and if he told himself often enough that he didn’t give a shit what they did, then he wouldn’t.

Yeah, right. Like that’s working.

When they left him lying broken on the floor, his body bruised and aching, his butt hole sore, his wings in tatters, for the first time that evening, when no one was watching, he allowed himself a moment of self-pity. Maybe this was all he deserved, to be used and discarded like the piece of trash he was. He’d never be loved. He didn’t deserve that either.

They weren’t permitted to wash or leave before those who’d paid to use them had gone. As usual, Gerald tried to persuade Tyler to leave with him, and as usual Tyler refused, which never went down well. He referred the sour-faced banker to Prescott and hoped Prescott continued to say no. Tyler lay on the window ledge, his wings crumpled beneath him, his eyes closed, his neck aching from Gerald’s grip, his exhausted cock limp.

“You asleep?” Jeremy asked.

“Yes.” Tyler didn’t open his eyes.

“Want to go and get breakfast?”

“No.”

“I could cook. I’ve got bacon and eggs.”

Tyler opened his eyes. Jeremy sat on the floor, legs outstretched, his wings just as broken as Tyler’s, smears of dried come on his legs and belly, fingerprint bruises on his hips, the light in his eyes a little dimmer, and Tyler’s heart clenched.
Got to be cruel to be kind.
How many times had that been hammered into him as a kid?
It’s for your own good. Smack. You’ll thank me when you’re older. Thump.
So why did he only remember the cruelty and not the kindness?

“Or toast,” Jeremy added.

It had been a long time since anyone cooked for him.

“Please,” Jeremy whispered.

Tyler opened a chink in his armor. “Bacon, eggs
and
toast.”

The guy’s face lit in a smile.

An envelope landed in Tyler’s groin and he flinched. A naked Prescott dropped another onto Jeremy’s legs.

“We’ll do the angel play again,” Prescott said. “It worked perfectly. Gerald’s just offered me double for the pair of you to be exclusively his next week.”

Oh shit.
“He needs watching,” Tyler said. “He gets carried away. I’m going to have bruises on my neck. We’re not supposed to be marked anywhere that can be seen.”

Prescott shook his head. “He won’t go too far.”

Tyler glared. “Be a bit late to do anything if he does. He likes to strangle me and he’s fucking strong. You going to wait until he chokes me to death? You don’t want that sort of trouble.”

“Don’t worry. I have someone keeping an eye on him.”

Watching the whole thing on camera? Maybe recording.
Great.

“I want you—” he pointed at Tyler, “—on Wednesday at nine. A thousand pounds. I’ll text the address. Don’t be late.”

A thousand? Fuck, what does he want me to do?

“Do you need me too?” Jeremy asked.

Prescott stroked Jeremy’s hair. “I’ll think about it.”

Tyler rolled to his feet, ripped open the envelope and counted his money in front of Prescott. He watched Jeremy slide his hands around the asshole’s waist and hug him. The only thing that achieved was that Prescott stopped stroking his hair. Did Jeremy really expect affection?
Is that what Jeremy wants from me?
Not going to happen. The only way to survive this was to turn his heart to stone.

The apartment had five bathrooms. Tyler avoided the sumptuous one next to the main bedroom and went for the smallest. Last time he’d used the big one, Prescott joined him. He put his money on a shelf, wrenched off the remains of the wings, dumped them on the floor and stepped into the shower. The torrent of hot water made him feel better. He put his palms against the tiles and tipped his face to the flow.

When broad hands with strong fingers pressed into his hips, he knew it was Prescott and forced himself not to tense. His idiotic cock went hard as steel. Sometimes he worried about his lack of control. It was as if his brain and dick weren’t on the same wavelength.

“Your mouth on my cock.” Prescott bit down on his shoulder and Tyler arched forward with a gasp.

“That hurt.”

Prescott laughed.

Tyler turned and dropped to his knees. He knew exactly what the guy liked. Pressure on the slit, fast sucks at the head, followed by deep swallows until the shaft brushed the back of his throat. Prescott groaned and grunted above him, sweeping Tyler’s wet hair aside so he could see his eyes. Tyler knew better than to look at anything other than Prescott’s face.

But he was tired. He wanted this over and instead of making the guy wait, Tyler used the right amount of speed and pressure to make coming irresistible. Prescott let out a loud yell and then his cock jerked and spurted. Tyler swallowed. Another lesson he’d learned early on. He caught sight of Jeremy in the doorway and warned him with his eyes to get out of there. Relief when he left quickly disappeared as Prescott smacked Tyler’s head into the tiles. He yelped in pain.

“I come when
I
want to, not when you want me to.”

“Sorry.” He wasn’t. “I got carried away.”

Prescott stepped out of the glass enclosure and grabbed a towel. Tyler slumped in the bottom of the shower, arched his back to let his mouth fill with water and then spat it out. When he emerged, Prescott had gone.

Jeremy was waiting already dressed in the room where they’d left their clothes. He opened his mouth and Tyler frowned, his back to the camera. “See you,” he said and hoped Jeremy took the hint.

“Yeah. See you.”

When he’d gone, Tyler dressed quickly. His was the last pile of clothes and he stuffed the envelope of cash into the pocket of his jeans.

As he exited the elevator on the ground floor, a group of cleaners stood waiting. In a short period of time the apartment would no doubt be back to its immaculate state, no trace of what had gone on remaining. Tyler wished it was as easy to wipe his mind, because no matter how many times he told himself he was okay with this, he was lying.

Chapter Two

Tyler glanced at Jeremy as he fell into step alongside him.

“Did Prescott fuck you?” Jeremy asked.

“Why? Jealous?” The joke fell flat when he caught sight of Jeremy’s rigid face. He mentally groaned. “Oh Christ. He’ll fuck almost anything. Don’t fall for his charm. He tells everyone they’re the best he’s ever had.”

Jeremy laughed and Tyler glanced at him in surprise.

“I don’t give a shit about Mr. Smooth.”

His smile made Tyler swallow hard. Jeremy’s fingers brushed his.
Don’t.
He stuck his hand in his jacket pocket in case Jeremy tried to grab hold of it.

“We need the Jubilee line,” Jeremy said as they walked toward the underground station.

Why had Tyler thought this a good idea? He didn’t want to
know
anyone who did what he did. He slowed and Jeremy’s shoulders slumped before he turned.

“You’re not going to come with me, are you?”

Tyler hesitated.

“Please. Just for breakfast.”

Except it wouldn’t be just for breakfast.

Once they were underground, he took out his Oyster card, scanned it and went through the barrier, Jeremy on his heels. Tyler’s route home lay to the left, the Jubilee line to the right.

Oh what the fuck.
He turned right.

“Where do you live?” Jeremy asked, a spring back in his step and voice.

“London.”

“Where are you studying?”

“London.”