“Here,” Raph said, stopping behind Wyatt in a faint rush of teak. “See you in the morning, princess.”
They left through the back door, Wyatt swallowing his guilt at leaving his daughter behind. “I’ve never been home earlier than Hazel.”
“You need to rest,” Raph said, sliding his arm around Wyatt’s waist. “I thought you were going to break down back there.”
Wyatt gulped. “I almost did.”
Out in the parking lot, where there were no eyes on him, he could breathe again. Raph pulled him into the shadows behind the building, and held him close. For long moments, Wyatt closed his eyes, and breathed. When he had enough strength to lean away, Raph led him to the car.
“She’s seen that, hasn’t she? Hazel?”
Wyatt grimaced. Which parent would let their child witness a meltdown? Which father had his daughter hold his hand while he cried? “Yeah, she has.”
He ducked his head, certain that Raph would judge him for it. But Raph opened the passenger door, nudging Wyatt inside. Wyatt climbed in gingerly. He felt like he didn’t belong anywhere at all.
Raph leaned into the car, pressing a warm, soft kiss to his lips. “Both of you are so damn strong. I’m proud of you.”
Wyatt’s throat tightened. And Raph kissed him again, his palm caressing Wyatt’s belly. Their baby.
“More later,” Raph whispered against his lips. “Let’s get you home first.”
They pulled out of the parking lot, Wyatt’s hand clasped snugly in Raph’s. It was rare, the two of them alone in Raph’s car, the hum of the engine washing around them. The streetlamps cast moving shadows across their laps. Outside, other cars passed them by, their rumbles muffled. Raph held Wyatt’s hand, his expression soft.
So Wyatt asked, “Will you slap me tonight?”
The car swerved slightly. “What?”
Wyatt blushed. He’d been thinking about it, ever since the first time he’d asked Raph that question. Maybe Max was right, and he really did have a twisted soul. But he needed the rush of shame, needed the catharsis that crying brought him. “Is it terrible of me to ask for that?”
Raph was silent for a while. “I don’t understand why you want to be hit. That bastard hurt you, Wy. You want more?”
“Maybe.” Wyatt fidgeted with the buttons of his shirt. “I... I liked being hit.”
“Why the hell would you like it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Wyatt’s cheeks burned. He looked down, Grandma’s face swimming into his vision. Bad children should be punished. You like punishment, Wyatt? “I’ve been terrible.”
Raph slanted him a look. At a stoplight, he caught Wyatt’s chin, turning his face up. “You’re serious about this.”
Wyatt nodded. “That’s what he.... he meant by ‘twisted soul’. I thought you should know.”
“I don’t need to know things you aren’t comfortable with sharing,” Raph muttered. He leaned in, pressed a soft, wet kiss to Wyatt’s lips, and Wyatt groaned.
The car behind them honked.
Raph pulled away, stepping on the gas again. “Can we do this without hurting you?”
“I need to be hurt, Raph. That’s the point.”
“I don’t want to.”
Wyatt sighed. “I stayed so long with Max for a reason, Raph. I wanted to be hurt.”
Raph glared. “Why?”
“Because—” Wyatt swallowed “—because I shouldn’t have seduced you. You’re my stepbrother.”
“You’re my omega now,” Raph said. “You’re carrying my baby. I don’t care if people think it’s wrong.”
“I still care.” Wyatt leaned back into the headrest. The trees and storefronts flew by outside the car. Next to him, Raph’s eyes were dubious. But he didn’t judge Wyatt for his inclinations, and that was a relief. “Pain... pain absolves me of the wrongness. Can we try it? Just once?”
Raph flicked on the turn signal, before pulling them into Wyatt’s apartment complex. He didn’t look convinced. Wyatt squirmed in his seat, his cheeks prickling.
“I trust you to stop when I ask you to,” he added in a small voice. “Max didn’t.”
Raph slammed on the brakes. The car jolted, and they jerked back into their seats. Raph glared, baring his teeth. “Fuck that bastard.”
“I know.” Wyatt brought Raph’s hand up to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “I trust you to hurt me. You’re the only one who can.”
Raph sucked in a shaky breath, and the car began to move again. He turned them into a parking lot, cut the engine. Then he breathed out, long and slow, his gaze locked with Wyatt’s.
“Fine. We’ll try it, just this once.”
Wyatt’s twisted heart gave a quick, excited beat.
21
Raph
Raph had no idea what the hell he’d just agreed to. Hurting people wasn’t his thing. Hurting Wyatt? That was insane. But Wyatt had asked, trusting Raph, and hell, Raph couldn’t say no to those eyes.
So here Wyatt was, stripped down in front of him, his skin pale in the golden lamplight of the bedroom. Raph stroked the planes of his chest, the very-visible bump of his belly.
“You’re sure about this,” Raph said, staring down at the spread of Wyatt’s legs, his creamy thighs, his balls relaxed against his taint.
“Which part of this says I’m not sure?” Wyatt lifted his hips, half-hard. Raph leaned in, pressed his nose to Wyatt’s soft balls, breathing in his musk, mingled with magnolia and honey.
He was going to hurt Wyatt. What kind of alpha did that willingly?
“How do I know when to stop?” Raph asked. He pressed a kiss to the silky skin of Wyatt’s cock, then down the crease of his thigh, supporting his ass with one hand.
Wyatt squirmed. “If—if I start to push you away. Or if I say ‘Enough.’ Then it means I don’t want more.”
“Okay.” But it still didn’t sound right. Raph looked down at his own clothes, unbuttoning his shirt. It felt like he had too many clothes on, next to Wyatt. But Wyatt had asked for this, too. “How... how do I start?”
“Come closer.” Wyatt reached out for him.
Raph shuffled, so his thighs pressed against the curve of Wyatt’s ass. He glanced at the door again—it was locked. No interruptions tonight.
So he leaned over Wyatt, kissed him slowly on the lips.
