Valentino

“C’mon.” I grab his hand and help him up so I can lift the lid of the toilet. “Piss first. Then…” There’s a whole fucking to do list at this point, and I don’t know where to start. Where would a lifestyle dom start? “Then water while I look you over,” I decide.

Nero pushes the seat down again and sits, pissing like that. He closes his eyes and sways as he does.

“It was a good spanking,” he says before he’s finished pissing. “Poor little Luke had no idea what he was asking for.”

I shake my head. “I’ve scened with him before,” I say, going to wash my hands and the cock cage in the sink. “I didn’t think he spooked that easy. Guess you never really know.” I can’t help but be disgusted by Luke’s reaction, even though I know that’s how a normal person probably reacts to a bleeding human in front of them.

Maybe I should’ve noticed. Maybe I’m a shitty dom for not having noticed.

Maybe I’m a shitty person.

But I’ve never claimed to be someone good.

I got so into it. Nero was taking it beautifully, making amazing sounds and raising his ass for more. There’d just been that high of power and violence, of having him at my complete mercy and knowing he wouldn’t—couldn’t—complain about it.

He could have safe-worded. I stopped when Luke did. I wasn’t that out of control.

And I’d been spanking Nero’s fucking hole, not tearing into his back. Still, I should’ve been paying attention. I should have realized it would be too much for him.

The thoughts are like a ping-pong ball in my brain, telling me on one hand what I did right then countering with what I’d done wrong, and it takes me a moment to realize Nero is talking to me. “What?”

“It really doesn’t hurt that much,” Nero says. “But I don’t think I want to squeeze back into the leather pants.” He reaches down—while still on the toilet—to work at his shoelaces. I can see how the shirt clings to his back where the blood soaked through.

“Stop,” I say, leaving the cage in the sink. I crouch down again, helping him with the laces. “You don’t need to get back into the pants. You’re going to lie down on your front. I’ll get you some boxers.”

“I’d rather not wear fucking anything,” Nero mumbles. “That’s gonna bruise a lot. Too bad you’re being a wuss about all of this.”

“I’m being a responsible dom,” I inform him, helping him take his shoes off. “Up. Let’s get you out of the pants and get this shirt off so I can see the damage.”

He thankfully doesn’t fight me as I pull his clothes off, but as soon as I see his back, I hiss sharply.

He’s opened up the two largest cuts, and several of the smaller ones are bleeding too. The shirt smeared the blood all over. His ass is already beginning to bruise, and I realize I might have hit him harder than I thought.

But he kept begging, saying he wanted more, goading me. If I’d known…

Would I have stopped?

“All right,” I say grimly. Any endorphins I’d felt while spanking him senseless are fading fast, leaving my mood dark. “Let me wipe you down, at least, then I’ll call the doctor. You need to be restitched.”

“Guess so.” Nero cranes his neck so he can see his back in the mirror. “Can’t work like this. The pain’s not bad, but my aim is probably shot.”

“Your aim.” I let out a little laugh. “You’re not going to be going anywhere you need to be aiming any time soon.” I grab a washcloth and wet it, gingerly pressing it around the wounds to wipe away some of the blood.

Nero sits quietly, not even reacting to my touches, and that disturbs me more than if he’d been writhing in pain.

All the little things he’s said tonight, the way he’s acting…

“You know…” I start quietly, “I only do this when both parties are into it. BDSM isn’t a punishment.”

Nero snorts in response. “And that’s why you strapped a shock collar to my cock and fucking shocked me? But, as you saw, I am into it. So I don’t know what the fucking problem is.”

“No, I mean.” Fuck. How do people talk about this shit all the time? “I just meant. I’m not like… your father, or…”

“Shut the fuck up,” Nero says, stepping away from me. He tries to grab the washcloth from my hands but gives up when I don’t let go. “Whatever. Leave me alone.” He starts toward the bathroom door.

I let him get past me, tossing the washcloth into the sink along with everything else, but I grab his arm and start to guide him back to the room I’d kept him in before. He still needs water, and to be patched up, and whether this is sub drop or something else, he needs something from me.

I just wish I knew what it was.

“Let go,” Nero hisses. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

The words shouldn’t hurt, but I find they do. Still, I’m not going to take out my frustration on him. “Then don’t talk,” I say quietly. “I’ll still be here.”

He glares at me, but stays quiet until he’s in bed again, face down and completely naked. I grab a pair of boxers from the dresser, holding it out to him. “Do you need help getting them on?”

“I’m not putting them on. Just go away.” Nero clings to the pillow, hiding his face from me. “Just… fucking leave if you aren’t going to fuck me.”

I put the boxers back into the dresser, going to pull the sheet up until it’s right beneath his ass cheeks. “No,” I say. I pull my phone out and text the doctor. Once he confirms he’s on the way, I tuck the phone back into my pocket. “The last thing you need right now is to be alone.” The more I look at him, the more I hear him, the more certain I am.

Tentatively, I reach out to stroke his tousled red hair. He tenses and lifts his arm as if to bat my hand away, but he drops it again.

“Stop,” Nero says, his voice rough. “You already… you already said you weren’t going to fuck me, so why are you touching me now?”

I have to swallow hard around the lump in my throat as I stare down at his bloody back. It evokes feelings in me that I can’t quite explain, making me feel torn between guilt and exultation that I was able to hurt him without him protesting—with him simply begging me to continue.

“Touch doesn’t have to be about sex, Nero,” I say softly. “I would like to try to comfort you however I can until the doctor gets here. I’m not… I’m not not fucking you because I don’t want to. I do want to. But you’re too badly injured.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Nero lets out a shuddering breath. “It really doesn’t matter. It’s fine. I’m not weak, or…” His next breath sounds like a sob.

“You’re definitely not weak,” I tell him, wanting to keep stroking his hair but faltering as I try to figure out what would help him the most. I recognize it in him, though—he’s experienced trauma, just like I have, and he’s doing his best to survive in a world that doesn’t pause to let you catch your breath when terrible things happen.

“This isn’t me.” Nero buries his head in the pillow. “I don’t need you. Go away.”

Looking at him reminds me of myself so many years before, but I hadn’t had someone at my side. I’d been left alone to grieve my losses, to patch up my wounds, and I’d always wished I’d had someone. But are we that similar? Am I projecting my own thoughts onto him, or does he really need someone here right now?

“I’m going to sit here until the doctor arrives,” I say quietly. “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but I don’t want you to be alone, Nero.”

Nero clutches the pillow tighter, not saying anything.

I simply watch him, tracing the line of his ass and back and trembling shoulders.

Soft, muffled noises filter into the room.

He’s crying.

I’ve been called a lot of things, but soft has never been one of them. Yet here I am, feeling completely and utterly gone for this boy—this red-headed brat who’d tried to kill me—and his tears threaten to break even my cold heart.

I can’t help it then. I touch his hair, stroking the strands softly, and murmur, “It’s all right. I won’t ever tell anyone.”

“I’ll kill you if you do,” Nero answers, half laughing, half sobbing. “And I won’t miss this time.”

“Of course, of course,” I say, unable to keep myself from smiling. “They wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

Just like no one would believe that I might have something resembling a heart.

I keep patting him gently until the doctor arrives, wondering just what I’ve gotten myself into.