Chapter 4: Drunken truth

The Heir’s Mask

The days blurred into a haze of obsession for Steve. Every thought revolved around Ken—how far they had come, how cute Ken had been all these years, and how Steve couldn’t open up back then. But now nothing was stopping him. I won’t hide anymore. I’ve been in love with you since high school.

Fourteen days until the Hamptons yacht party, and every hour without Ken felt like sandpaper on raw nerves. Steve attended meetings, signed multimillion-dollar deals, and fucked Lila mechanically to keep up appearances—all while his mind replayed Ken’s broken moan from their phone call on repeat.

Steve…

That single utterance had ruined him.

Tonight, Steve was drunk. Half a bottle of Macallan down, tie loosened, shirt unbuttoned to reveal the hard planes of muscle and the trail of dark hair leading down to where his cock strained against his zipper.

He took out his phone. Ken hadn’t blocked him yet. That small victory fueled the fire.

Steve: You still taste my words on your tongue when you jerk off? I bet you do. I bet you finger that tight hole now and imagine it’s me.

He hit send, then immediately followed with a voice note. His voice came out low, rough, and dripping with filth.

“I’m drunk, Ken. Drunk and so fucking hard for you it hurts. I want to pin you down and spit on your hole before I shove my cock inside. No lube. Just my pre-cum and your desperate little whimpers. I’ll fuck you so hard the bed breaks. Fill you up until your stomach bulges, your skin turns red, and you’re leaking me for days.”

Steve stroked himself slowly through his pants as he recorded another. “You’re mine, Ken. My straight boy who’s going to take every inch like the perfect slut I know you are. I’m going to breed you. Own you. Marry you in secret and keep you as my dirty little secret husband while the world thinks I’m straight.”

He sent them both.

Then he waited.

Ken was in his apartment, trying to work on code for his startup when the messages came through. The voice notes hit like punches to the gut. He listened to the first one with headphones in, hand frozen on his mouse. Steve’s voice, slurred with whiskey but still commanding, sent heat rushing straight to his groin.

He told himself to delete it. Instead, he played the second one.

“I’m going to breed you…”

Ken’s breath hitched. His cock hardened instantly, throbbing against his sweatpants. Guilt crashed over him—Sophia’s face flashing in his mind—but it wasn’t enough to stop his hand from slipping under the waistband.

Sophia, I thought I loved you so much. My heart is getting stretched and you’re nowhere to be found. I wish you never left me.

“Goddamn you, Steve,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers around his leaking cock. He stroked in time with the filthy promises, imagining Steve’s heavy body on top of him, that thick cock forcing its way past his rim and stretching him obscenely.

He came hard, biting his fist to stay quiet, Steve’s name a choked whisper on his lips.

Shame followed immediately. Ken wiped himself clean and typed a reply with shaking fingers.

Ken: You’re drunk. Delete this shit and sober up. I’m not playing whatever game this is.

Steve’s response came immediately.

Steve: Not a game. It’s the truth. I want you to come over. Let me show you how badly I need you.

Ken: No. Don’t come. I’m busy and I’m not accepting this. You are my best friend, bro.

Steve: Then I’ll come to you.

Ken’s heart slammed against his ribs. He knew Steve well enough to know he wasn’t bluffing. A few minutes later, there was a sharp knock on his door.

Ken opened it, furious and terrified. Steve pushed inside without invitation, kicking the door shut behind him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Ken growled.

Steve crowded him against the wall, hands bracing on either side of Ken’s head. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Ken. I’m crazy and madly in love with you. I imagine you begging for your best friend to ruin you.”

Ken shoved at Steve’s chest, but there was no real force. “I don’t know about the other side. How do you see me? I don’t know. I don’t want to switch. I’m straight. Don’t bring me to where I will be lost.”

Steve grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head with one hand. Their bodies pressed flush together, Steve’s massive erection grinding against Ken’s hip.

“Feel that?” Steve rolled his hips. “That’s what you do to me.”

“It’s not my fault, bro. I don’t see this because I’m straight. I have only had women in my life,” Ken protested, even as his voice cracked.

Steve ignored the words. “I know what to do right here. Let me show you.”

Ken’s struggle to remain the straight guy he believed he was finally cracked. Their mouths crashed together in a violent kiss—teeth clashing, tongues fighting. Steve tasted like whiskey and sin. He dominated the kiss completely, fucking Ken’s mouth with his tongue the way he wanted to fuck his ass. He had seen Ken kiss Sophia so many times; now he had to prove he was the one Ken needed more.

Ken moaned into it, hips jerking forward desperately.

Steve pulled back just enough to growl, “Tell me you’re straight now, my best friend for life.”

“Fuck you.”

Steve dropped to his knees right there in the hallway, yanking Ken’s sweatpants down in one rough motion. Ken’s cock sprang free, flushed and dripping.

“Look at you,” Steve breathed. “So hard for another man. My straight best friend is cracked, but you still won’t accept this, will you?”

He licked a broad stripe up the underside, then swallowed Ken down to the root in one go.

Ken cried out, hands fisting in Steve’s hair. The wet heat, the suction, the way Steve’s throat constricted around him—it was too much. This was his first time being touched by a man. Steve sucked him like a man possessed, gagging himself on Ken’s length, drool running down his chin as he looked up with those intense blue eyes. The friendship bracelet Ken still wore caught the light, and it only made Steve more determined.

“Ken. Feed me.”

Ken lasted less than a minute. He came with a shout, hips bucking as Steve milked every drop, swallowing greedily.

When it was over, Steve rose and kissed Ken deeply, letting him taste himself on his tongue. “This is only the beginning,” he whispered against swollen lips. “At the yacht party… I’m going to send you texts so nasty you’ll storm into my cabin and finally let me fuck you properly. And you will have no other reason to reject me.”

Ken shoved him back. “Get out.”

Steve smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sweet dreams, straight boy.”

He left, filled with satisfaction at having proven his point to Ken.

Ken slid down the wall, pants still around his ankles, cum and spit drying on his skin. His phone buzzed one final time.

Steve: See you on the yacht. Try not to touch yourself thinking about my mouth until then.

Ken stared at the message, body trembling. I don’t know your plans, mummy’s boy, but I will find out if you truly want me or you’re just using me. Now cracked by his best friend, he wondered, How do I say this? Sophia, was she right about everything? Oh my goodness.

He was terrified

.

And in two weeks, he would be stepping onto that yacht knowing exactly what Steve planned to do to him.