Night Six - Kai's Turn

“You think you’re the only one who gets to call the shots?” Kai Lennox’s voice was a low, dangerous rasp as he locked the service door behind Damien at 11:47 p.m. on the dot. The rooftop bar was dark except for the low amber glow behind the bottles and the rain-streaked city lights bleeding through the glass walls. Kai’s ice-blue eyes burned with something new tonight—challenge, hunger, a spark of rebellion that had been building since the first bruise. “Five nights of you wrecking me, choking me, leaving marks like you own this ass. Tonight I want my turn.”

Damien Vale stood in the middle of the empty bar, charcoal suit jacket already shrugged off and tossed over a stool, black shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest. His steel-gray eyes narrowed, jaw tight, but the thick line of his cock was already straining against his tailored pants. Jet-black hair still perfect. Broad shoulders squared like he was ready for a boardroom war instead of whatever the hell this was turning into.

“You want to top me?” Damien’s voice was gravel dragged over silk, dark and amused and just a little dangerous. He stepped closer, towering over Kai by three inches, one big hand coming up to grip Kai’s jaw. “Careful, bartender. I don’t bend easy.”

Kai’s smirk was sharp as a blade. He grabbed Damien’s wrist, yanking the hand away from his face, and shoved him back against the bar edge. “You’ve had your fun owning me. Tonight you’re going to feel what it’s like when I take what I want.” His fingers worked Damien’s belt open with quick, sure movements, voice dropping lower. “And you’re going to let me. Because deep down you’ve been wondering what it would feel like to have me buried inside you, stretching you open while you try not to lose control.”

Damien’s breath hitched—just once, barely audible—but his eyes darkened to gunmetal. The power struggle crackled between them like live wires. For five nights Damien had been the one in charge, the one who bent Kai over every surface and fucked him senseless. Tonight the rules were shifting, and the air in Eclipse felt thicker, hotter, charged with the thrill of the unknown.

Kai didn’t wait for permission. He spun Damien around, chest to the bar, and yanked his shirt the rest of the way open so it hung loose off those powerful shoulders. His hands mapped the sculpted back, nails dragging down the muscle until Damien hissed. Then Kai dropped to his knees, shoved Damien’s pants and briefs down in one rough tug, and spread those thick thighs wider.

“Fuck,” Kai breathed, voice reverent and filthy at the same time. Damien’s ass was a work of art—firm, muscled from years of private boxing, the perfect handful. Kai leaned in and licked a slow, wet stripe from the base of Damien’s balls all the way up, tongue circling the tight furl of his hole.

Damien’s knuckles went white on the bar edge. “Kai—”

“Shut up and take it,” Kai growled against his skin, the first time he’d ever talked back like this. He licked again, deeper, tongue pushing inside while one hand reached around to wrap around Damien’s thick cock. It was heavy, leaking already, and Kai stroked him in time with every thrust of his tongue—slow, teasing, relentless.

Damien’s head dropped forward, a low groan escaping despite himself. The sound went straight to Kai’s own cock, trapped painfully hard in his jeans. He ate Damien open like he’d been starving for it, two fingers joining his tongue, scissoring gently at first, then harder when Damien started pushing back against his face.

“Still think you don’t bend?” Kai taunted, voice muffled. He crooked his fingers and found that spot inside Damien that made the bigger man’s thighs shake. “Look at you. Already fucking yourself on my fingers like you’ve been waiting for this.”

Damien snarled, hips jerking. “Keep talking and I’ll flip you over and remind you who’s really in charge.”

Kai bit the curve of Damien’s ass hard enough to leave a mark his first mark on Damien. “Try it. See if I let you.”

The power struggle ignited. Damien spun suddenly, grabbing Kai by the throat and hauling him up into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashed, tongues fought for dominance, hands tearing at remaining clothes until both of them were naked under the low lights. Kai’s full sleeves of tattoos gleamed with sweat; the phoenix across his chest seemed to flare as he shoved Damien back onto the wide leather bench that ran along the far wall.

“On your back,” Kai ordered, voice rough. “Legs up.”

Damien’s eyes flashed with defiance, but he obeyed barely. He lay back, knees bent and spread, cock heavy against his abs, leaking steadily. Kai grabbed the lube and condom from Damien’s discarded jacket (the bastard always came prepared), rolling the latex on himself with shaking hands. His own cock was flushed dark, aching, the head already slick.

He slicked his fingers again and pushed back inside Damien three this time, stretching him wider, scissoring relentlessly while he stroked Damien’s cock with his free hand.

“Fuck Kai ” Damien’s voice cracked, head thrown back, throat exposed. The sight was obscene: the ruthless CEO spread open, chest heaving, letting Kai take control.

Kai lined up, blunt head pressing against Damien’s hole. “Breathe,” he murmured, the edge of command softening for half a second. Then he pushed in slow, inexorable, inch by thick inch until he was buried to the hilt.

Both of them groaned. Damien was tight, scorching hot even through the condom, clenching around Kai like a vice. Kai stilled, letting him adjust, but only for a moment. Then he rolled his hips and started to move deep, powerful thrusts that dragged over Damien’s prostate on every stroke.

“Shit yes harder,” Damien demanded, one hand fisting in Kai’s messy brown hair, the other gripping Kai’s ass and pulling him deeper.

Kai fucked him like he’d been fantasizing about it for five nights hard, relentless, hips snapping forward with wet, filthy slaps. The bench creaked under them. Damien’s legs locked around Kai’s waist, heels digging into his back, urging him on. Their mouths crashed together again, messy and desperate, while Kai drove into him over and over.

“You feel so fucking good,” Kai panted against Damien’s lips, angling to nail that spot again and again. “Taking my cock like you were made for it. Look at you big bad CEO falling apart on a bartender’s dick.”

Damien’s answer was a broken moan and a sharp bite to Kai’s shoulder. The power struggle raged on Damien trying to flip them, Kai pinning his wrists down, both of them sweating and cursing and chasing the edge. Kai reached between them, stroking Damien’s cock in tight, fast pulls.

“Come on,” Kai growled. “Let me feel you come while I’m buried inside you. Give it to me.”

Damien shattered first. His back arched off the bench, hole clenching rhythmically around Kai as he came hard thick ropes striping his own chest and abs, a guttural groan tearing from his throat. The sight, the feel of it, sent Kai over right behind him. He buried himself deep and came with a shout, hips stuttering through the aftershocks, filling the condom while Damien milked every last drop.

They stayed locked together, breathing ragged, rain hammering the glass like applause. Kai collapsed forward, forehead pressed to Damien’s sweat-slick chest, the phoenix tattoo sticky between them.

Damien’s hand came up, threading through Kai’s hair not pulling, just holding. The touch was almost gentle.

Kai lifted his head, ice-blue eyes meeting steel-gray ones. A slow, satisfied smirk curved his swollen lips. “Told you I bite back.”

Damien’s laugh was low, rough, and unexpectedly warm. “Night Seven is going to be interesting.”

Kai pulled out carefully, tied off the condom, and helped Damien sit up. Their bodies were marked Kai’s shoulder bore Damien’s teeth, Damien’s ass would feel Kai for days and the silent rules they’d built were cracking wide open.

But as Damien pulled him in for one last filthy kiss before straightening his suit, they both knew the truth.

Tomorrow at 11:47 they’d be

right back here.

And the power struggle was only just beginning.