Mythical Men

"Isn't accusing me of having middle kid syndrome a bit of a easy low hanging fruit for you?" Alexi drawled back at the dancer, his smirk not dropping even as he tilted his head to gaze over at the others ass in a rather obvious way, enjoying the sight of the other on his brothers lap. "I get the attention I want, and I desire, and I crave, little one." He pointed out.

"You were hoping for something more? For us to use you and your connections for our own desires? Instead of just being the man we all want to choke on our cocks?" The elder brother drawled as he made no attempt to move away from that touch to his jawline or his hair. Those dark, older, dangerous eyes watching the dancer. His other hand was moving along the others hip to brush up, along under the others shirt to tease along the others abs with a little hum.

"You, pretty dancer, have not earned the right to hear such shop talk. Trust is sacred among our family. A blood debt that few are willing to pay." He drawled as his finger teased over the others hipbone. "And what are those talents, hm? Are they the exciting sort?" He asked, staring at the boy as if his brothers hardly existed for the moment.

"Not an accusation, if you don't want to be a cliche then don't act like one" He said Alexi smoothly, not minding the staring - he could look all he wanted but criminal family or not, that's all he'd get until Casey decided otherwise. His smirk evident, though his hands never stopped playing with the oldest brother's hair. His fingers gently massaging the scalp, talented hands moving with expertise. One of Casey's many talents of course.

"Relax handsome, you're the one who brought up talking shop. Not me" He pointed out with a chuckle, warm brown eyes gazing back at him - seemingly unflinching from those dark eyes on him. "And I wasn't hoping for anything, just curious about you boys is all. Though I'm starting to wonder when the last time you truly relaxed was, felt like you could let your guard down and not expect a betrayal" He hummed, moving one hand to massage that strong, stiff neck. "Hmm, you want to know my talents? Now darling, who says you've earned the right to hear those? Trust is scared after all" He retorted, using his words again with a playful smile and wink.

Pyotr did give the dancer a little bit of an exhausted nod at the others glance that was oh so easy to read. He knew Alexi could be quite a handful.

"I am hedonist- comments like whore hardly bother me. I live to sin, fuck, and enjoy life. I might be a whore and a slut and thousand other things but at least I know it." He said with a little shrug of his shoulders. "You are lucky I did not throw some money down to do a shot off your naked body." He said with zero shame as he shifted against the couch with that same terrible grin. "Though I am sure you are worth all the money to just be in the presence of, little dancer." Alexi teased over at the other. "Even if I do think you should be in my lap already." He added as he took another long sip of his champagne. Though he did narrow his eyes a little at the mention of the others "connections". The idea of anyone outpowering their family certainly was a bold chess move from the other.

Pyotr had to admire how bold the other was, his head tilting to the side a little as he clicked his tongue. "They are here to have a good time. And I am here for the eye candy and the booze." He said with a tilt of his head. Though he did reach a larger hand forward to find the others hips and tugged Casey onto his lap proper- though his hand shifted to press against the small of the others back just above his ass in a rather rare, respectful move.

"Somehow I doubt you wish to hear shop talk of the family business, pretty boy." They were a little guarded for a reason, after all.

"You certainly talk a lot about what a sinful creature you are and I don't doubt it, but I will say...typically people who talk so much about something like that are putting on a bit of a show. You sure your whoreness isn't a tad exaggerated for attention, hm?" He questioned, a a slight smirk on his lips. It may have come across as a tease but there was some truth to his words. He caught the narrowing of the eyes, seems his words had provoked him a little. Very curious...and good to know.

The oldest's actions did catch him by surprise, mostly because it had seemed like of the three perhaps he was the least interested in Casey. Not only that, but the grab of him wasn't particularly aggressive and the hand was on his back instead, almost respectful. This man was definitely full of surprises. "Hm, that's all you're here for?" He asked, slow smile on his lips - since the man's actions sort of went against that statement. A hand moved to slowly and gently brush across the man's jawline before gently moving through his hair, an almost tender touch.

"You shouldn't assume that darling, if that's what you want to talk about then I can listen. I have many talents aside from dancing."

"And fucking proud of it." Alexi had no shame as he leaned against his seat and raised his glass a little as if he was toasting that very fact before he took a long sip of his drink. "Oh, so he's a personal little whore. You do it for fun and not coin on your bedside. I think I can work with that if the little whore is eager for some fun." He purred as he leaned forward a little, his smirk digging into his cheek. "And darlin, you're like a siren. One can't help and not look at you. It really must be a shame for your fellow workers. You corner the market in this place." He pointed out with a little wave to the door.

"Careful now." There was that edge to the eldest ones voice at that cheeky comments about how they were raised. Their mother's passing had certainly left something of a scar among all three of them. Perhaps it was why the elder two of the brothers could be so ruthless in their business. It was Pyotr's turn to hold up a finger, as if to advise the other to stay away from such a topic. "You think we have some secret motive for seeing you hm? Alexi putting a few notes in your jockstrap isn't enough of one? He would love a dance or perhaps you should take poor little Nikolai's virginity instead for us." The eldest brother challenged with a little arch of his eyebrow. The comment got a little Pyotr from the youngest boy across the booth.

"Well you're right about one thing....I am indeed popular and in demand, it has its perks. Being most people's favourites means you end up making quite a few connections, useful ones that keep you safe in a place like this" He hummed, a true statement though vague enough that perhaps offered more questions than answers. "But Alexi is it? I think of the two of us, the mouthy brat who paid good money just to see me a little closer and talk to me might be throwing stones at a glass house with those whore comments" He responded, more than happy to push back against a brat, even a rich and powerful one.

Then there was Pyotr, the oldest with his blunt words and seemingly natural control. "I think when three brothers who spent most of the night unable to look away from me all pay to see me in private, they tend to more to say or offer then what the average person wants" Casey mused, tilting his head at the handsome man. Taking him in for a moment, smiling at that challenge and arched brow. Casey didn't seem to even bat an eye at the remark.

"And you Pyotr?" He asked, smile never leaving his face. "You speak of your brothers but not of you, are you here just to keep them safe and out of trouble? Or is there something you want? Jokes aside, this is a safe place to talk, you boys don't have to be so guarded."

"Technically I think Alexi requested you but I am...very happy to make your acquaintance." Nikolai said as he leaned against the seat of the private room as he peered over at the dancer, a little tongue running along his lower lip a moment later. The young, newly nineteen year old still had his Russian accent bleeding into his voice as he gripped the drink next to him rather rightly.

Nikolai had been around the club a few times by now but even if he wasn't a familiar face, he and his brothers had a rather infamous last name. Sokolov wasn't exactly a name anyone with brains in the city would cross. The Russian mob was a powerful one, even with their old traditions and history. The Sokolov's have left an impression on the entire city. Nikolai himself was the youngest, twinkiest brother- still not quite jaded from the world and still with a quite a spark of hope in his eyes and smile. Nikolai wore a simple black tanktop and a pair of tight blue jeans, his legs shifting apart a little as he took a sip.

"That's because I have some actual taste-" Alexi's voice cut though even the loud music of the club as he reached forward to pour himself another glass of the more expensive champagne they'd ordered for the private room. He could be a touch more twisted than his younger brother- A hedonist though and though. Casey had the tightest ass in the entire club and Alexi could spot that the moment he saw the other shaking it on the bar like some little wanton whore. There was th at same sharp Russian accent as he placed the bottle back into the bucket of ice next to him and took a swing of his drink as he leaned back in his seat with a dangerous little smirk.

"You are the best little whore, yes? We wanted the best." He said with a little raise of his drink towards Casey before he took another sip. The middle brother was dressed a little more respectably than his younger brother- wearing a black buttoned up suit that was left open at the top to expose that pretty pale chest.

Not exactly what Casey had expected, but at the very least not the strangest thing he'd walked into. This life had taught Casey a lot and he'd seen quite a bit, learned to make connections and keep himself one step ahead of whatever nonsense other people tried to pull him into. Still, three members of one of the more prominent criminal gangs was not an everyday occurrence, but Casey didn't show any signs of surprise or fear as he stepped into the rather crowded booth.

"My, my - I'm starting to think your crush on me might be genetic, what with all of you showing up like this" He remarked, cocky smile on his lips and moving to lean against the table in the centre of the room, hands resting against the table and just roaming his eyes over three, as if someone he was the one inspecting them and not the other way around. His eyes shifting to Nikolai, his smile growing a little as he tilted his head. "Well aren't you just the sweetest thing, pleasure is all mine sweetheart. What shall I call you, hm?"

His eyes moved to Alexi, brow raised a little at the comment and eyes moving up and down him for a moment. "Looks like I found the brat of the family" He remarked, smile turning into a bit of a smirk. "Not that a brat can't have excellent taste, I did see you watching me constantly earlier - it was kind of adorable. But I'm a dancer sweetheart, not a whore - at least not by trade" He hummed, wagging his finger in a playful 'no' gesture. "But I guess that what happens when you spend too much time staring at beautiful men like me and not paying attention."

His eyes then moved to the last one, obviously the oldest and the one in charge in this moment. Casey wasn't put off by the crash comment, it was blunt at least and to the point and he'd heard worse. He was clearly dangerous, powerful but Casey wouldn't be who he was if he let that make him fold. "I take it with a comment like that you're the romantic of the group, hm?" He asked, tilting his head with a raised brow and casual smile. "And yet no flowers? Tut, tut. I thought you'd be raised better than that handsome" He tutted, running a hand through his wavy hair. "So you boys were obviously very eager to see me and I could dance for you, like you paid. But unless brotherly lap dances are your thing, I suspect you wanted to chat about something else, hm?"

Panicking only caused ligical thinking to be slowed, bad choices to be made, and physical mistakes. It was difficult and took time for RJ to leave hwo to clamp down on that, control the surge of adrenaline that came naturally from such situations. A necessary survival skill for the life that he led, even if he was out of the limelight compared to most of his family, so to speak. Patterns and paths laid out in an easily followable pattern as long as he could keep his wits about him. Just one of those things that most ended up underestimating him for, not expecting him to be as collected or quick thinking as he was. Let them. It only served his purpose further. RJ knew that Owen Matthews was not the sort of man to make such a mistake. He was also well aware that the extension of help didn't come without strings. Room was limited on movement and avenues of options. A trade of an unknown for another, though at least there was some solid sense of ground for the one that he currently found himself in.

"Smartest choice it seems...." He offered before being pulled in and all but manhandled. A gentle sort of manhandled but manhandled nonetheless. The closeness, the strong spicy scent of the man before him, and the strength of the touch all had a light blush slowly spreading out over RJ's cheeks. Saying it and experiencing it were two wildly different things. For once, it felt hard to catch up to the situation, his mind grinding to a halt and not jumping five steps ahead as it always did. Self control suddenly seemed tenuous at best, threatening to snap like a brittle twig under a summer sun. Pupils dilated on their own accord, an instant reaction to the position and the display before he was letting out a steady breath and coming back to himself. All within the span of seconds before Owen's low voice broke through the haze.

"Right." Maybe this time, the hole that he dug himself was a little too tall to climb out of, but there was no turning back. Everything had been set in motion and RJ found himself shifting to slide into the car without any fight or compliant. Owen was right. Not only did it have to be believable to get them to back off, it couldn't just end right there. The men wouldn't hesitate, less now than before if RJ was important to both the Ashcrofts and the Matthews. He found himself clearing his throat slightly, bag settled in his lap. "I know I said I did owe you a debt, but I still have to say thank you. You didn't have to give me the time of day. I'm sure my father will be grateful as well." Grateful and a little more than frustrated with RJ, but those were thoughts to handle later. When he could actually focus. The thrum of the city seemed to cut off entirely once the door swung closed, encasing them in their own little world. A private moment with a man just as powerful as his own family. Something that not many others were privileged to, at least in the way that RJ currently was experiencing it.

So instead he guided him to the car, hands never leaving his waist in a display for those men watching, something possessive that would sell the show. Not that he was complaining, if anything he rather enjoyed having the excuse. A driver was already in the front ready to take them away, so once the crime lord's large frame was inside and the door was shut...well, off they went. RJ stepping out of one mess and getting himself into a whole different kind, even if he wasn't fully aware of it just yet.

Large thighs spread out comfortable in the seat, so much so that it brushed against the younger man's own legs. Turning his head to look at the young man with a wolfish smile of amusement. "You do seem to enjoy thanking me, son. Not that I mind" He remarked, before his grin growing a little at the mention of the father. "Which part would he be grateful about, me saving you or the show we just put on and you being alone with me in this car?" He questioned as he leaned back comfortably in the car that was taking Owen back to his estate, with a guest it seemed. Not that RJ had seemingly questioned where they were going just yet.

"So RJ, I'm curious. What have you heard about me? I'm curious what Ashford's resident smart boy has gathered. No need to tell me your history, something more interesting. Insights, rumours..." He trailed off, gazing at his young guest, eyes trailing him up and down for a moment slowly before looking back at him. "No need to fret, I'm not looking for praise or good reviews. Just the truth, what have you heard of me - no matter how extreme or dramatic."

"Oh, I certainly made the suggestion, you were the one whose body reacted before anything else. If I happened to slide my hand further, would you be reacting to all of this how I expect you are, despite all your instincts saying you shouldn't be?" The edge never left Christopher's voice, somehow joviall despite the position they were in. Edged with enough tease to leave that lingering mark to it, even considering the words escpaed against the mage's skin with how close they now were. "Do you know every single reaction the members of your group would have, or do you place faith that however they do would be within your estimations?"

Even as he spoke, he was adjusting. Bringing the other up a little more comfortably against him so he could lift his head. Enough that lips could graze the other's ear before talking. "Free passage for you and your inquisition through any lands controlled or protected by my men. Reinforcements, should an engagement break out and you need our support." A moment, listing off the benefits. "In return, you no longer make efforts to expand in to our lands, you offer reinforcements should threats end up on our doorstep, and... Hmm." A low murmur of consideration. The other had failed in his attempts to leave through combat. An additional pri- "Any time you come through our lands, you spend a night here with my men. Your companions are more than welcome to join." A beat. "And no, the expectation isn't for that kind of spending the night before you think I'm asking you to whore out your order. Boredom is a morale killer and stories of your inquisition and all things further afield are far more interesting than any other visitors."

"A body reacting is hardly a shocking thing when you purposefully paint vivid images like that. Considering you've spent most of our encounter so far manhandling me, suggesting your men share me like a well earned prize and are hinting at possibly keeping me here for as long as you see fit. If anyone has a reaction here, it's you" He shot back, not willing to let his sharp tongue stop just because he was currently more than a little helpless physically. Despite his retort, the feel of those lips on his skin, on his ear did make him shiver and his body tremble just a little more, the little elf in the big warrior's grasp.

"You ask a lot for people who have essentially committed multiple crimes against the Inquisition" He retorted, though the demands were not completely awful and possibly workable...if it wasn't for a few specific caveats. "You expect me to believe your mind didn't go to that kind of spending the night after what you just said before? Please" He huffed, not buying that for a moment. Though his face remained flushed and maybe a little more hesitant then outright denying it.

"...You seem to be betting a lot on this idea that I can inspire your men with my tales, careful - I might poach them for myself if I get them too encouraged" He remarked, swallowing thickly. "And this talk of deals is all well and good, other than the fact you alluded to keeping me here for quite some time."

His gaze was a physical thing. It swept over the dancer, from the defiant tilt of his chin down the lithe lines of his body. He saw the carefully sculpted lines of muscle, the sheen of sweat that caught the low, colored lights and made him look like a polished, breakable thing. A work of art. His work of art, to be molded. Allen’s eyes, dark and deep-set, lingered on the fragile jut of Casey’s collarbones, the smooth expanse of his chest. He imagined the way that skin would feel under his calloused palms, the way the boy's entire frame would seem even smaller against his own solid mass. The age difference wasn't just a number; it was a tangible weight in the enclosed space, a promise of experience and influence.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a low rumble, a counterpoint to the boy’s higher pitch. "Fan is a cheap word, kid." He gestured with a lazy flick of his wrist to the empty space on the bench beside him. "I'm more of a... collector. And I've decided I quite like this piece." The smile remained, but it didn't reach his eyes. They held a different kind of heat, a predatory certainty. He wasn't asking. He wasn't requesting. He was stating a fact, and the quiet authority in his tone filled the small space, leaving no room for argument. The boy was here now. He was in the booth. And in Allen’s mind, he already belonged to him.

The posture of a man who thought he owned every room he walked into was familiar to Casey, as was the eyes of a man who was more than a little hyper-focused on him and this man was showing his hand as both of them, all at once. "Cheap doesn't mean wrong, you know" He countered with a click of his tongue and a raised brow, all mixed with a coy smile as he let the man talk. He laughed a little at the collector comment, not in a mocking way but a tone that was genuine amusement mixed in with some familiarity. A possessive man too it seemed, along with being a tad arrogant.

"Oh I'm sure you are, quite the collector of broken hearts and much more" He agreed, moving further into the room but choosing not to sit on bench but instead sit on the edge of the table, leaning back a little. Not exactly an act of defiance as one of feeling comfortable and keeping something of a barrier between the two of them, for the moment at the very least. "And I imagine you'd have to be, given you've paid so handsomely to get my attention" He mused, head tilting and a warm smile with a twinkle in his eye as he took him in. To deny the man was attractive was to be a fool and Casey was no fool. Still, he was no wide eyed, naive little creature who fell apart because an older man with money and an ego showed up. Not anymore, anyway.

"The question I'm more interested in is why exactly, you don't look like the kind of man who needs to pay to get someone to be alone with him" He hummed, smile growing just a little. "Why don't you start by telling me your story darling, because I'm starting to think you didn't pay for the chance to see me dance."

Of all the potential outcomes, of all the possibilities that lay ahead when RJ had decided to approach the man, feeling the large, warm hand drop to his waist was not exactly one of them. Though, he supposed it should have been within the realm of possibilities given what he knew. Neither here nor there at the moment. It felt heavy and not in the simple physical sense. RJ was by no means inexperienced, nor oblivious to when someone looked at him with desire. His indulgence in such things was just less common than most of his family. No shame, no guilt. A slow breath, not quite shaky but off kilter slipped, the only indication that the shift of position had done something. That he was aware of it and what the implications could be.

Bold and yet confident enough to take the action. "I wasn't certain who they were until today. Freaking out over a tail that had held no true threat wasn't worth the effort and attention. RJ had kept quiet about it for a reason. Today was proof that he should have brought it to someone's attention earlier. One foot in front of the other, each step an unheard movement towards something that no one would have anticipated or would have wanted. Dangerous and powerful.

The promise to play nice mixed with the predatory look that had taken over the older man's features had RJ nearly laughing. So very nearly. While that was contained, the hints of a smile were not. He wasn't sure that anyone in their world really knew how to play nice. It was how they managed to survive and gain the standing that they did, after all. Calling Owen Matthews out on that didn't seem the best idea though. "No, I'm sure something like that wouldn't slip from your mind." It wasn't a snide comment nor a tease, more of just a matter of fact statement. RJ trusted him to be a man of his word at the very least. The families were at a comfortable place right now after all.

"...I see you're as smart as I've been told, Mister Ashford, you do your family name proud" He remarked, a genuine compliment as Owen had seemed to taken an immediate liking to the younger man currently in his grasp. He had a feeling in a few years, that bright mind would become very useful to his family - even more so than it likely already was. His smile grew a little more wolfish at his choice whoever, skirting a little bit with the idea of the first...while really saying the third. "So, am I to understand the best option in your eyes if for everyone to think you're mine?" Owen asked, brow raised and giving RJ a few moments to perhaps try and respond or realise the implication.

But after those few moments, the hand on his waist would make short work of pulling RJ in closer, all but pressed up against the larger man's body who loomed over him. His other hand coming to gently grip that jaw, guiding his chin up to look right at him. Thumb brushing against his jawline, before leaning in close and moving the young man to side to block him from the eyesight of those hunting him. So from their angle, it look like the crime boss was capturing those lips for himself - while in reality, those lips were oh so close to RJ's. Their noses brushing together, eyes locked and a low rumble of a voice spoke quietly.

"Have to make it believable, right? Make them believe that you're with me...because they know if you were, I'd destroy every single one of them if they so much as touched you" He murmured, smirking still before pulling back, though his hands never left him. Slowly turning around the young man, so he was facing the parked cars. One such car, a large black SUV, had it's door open automatically.

"Now, to sell this...let's get you off the streets and away from those men. I'll deal with them later, but for now we have to show them that you're coming home with me."

"You're really understimating your worth with a statement like that, litte elf. What you can do so naturally can be considered of great worth to people, or great ire." As the back and forth continued, he dragged the other with him until he could settle his own back against the frame of his bed, the squirming mage held between his legs. Meeting that determined gaze over the other's shoulder and huffing out a laugh at just how readily the other avoided his question. "That's a yes then, at least. Maybe I should've let you run off in to the masses, prettyt hing like you would be incredibly popular." Making sure the other couldn't hide his reaction to the words if nothing else. "Certainly could be what they wanted from you at least. You'd need to ask them yourself to be sure."

Goading as much as playing with the other. Speaking of which, the hand that had pressed to the other's stomach dipped lower at that flush. Not by much, but enough.

"I happen to be the only one aware of your position, and instead had an offer. You've been looking to expand. Those of your group have made that abundently clear. They've just been making moves in the wrong direction if they wish to remain on the goodside of those like us. I was curious of what all the fuss about when it came to you, and you rather helpfully decided to wander yourself in to my grasps. By the time you leave, we could certainly strike some kind of deal that benefits your movement. I just don't think I plan on letting you go so soon, Little Elf."

Swallowing thickly, face heating up even further as this brute of a man tried to suggest perhaps he'd wanted to be at the mercy of ex-Templars and other men. As if this man hadn't just thrown that idea at him in the moment and expecting him to give a definitive answer. "Please, as if those men could handle me...or deserve me. No doubt you're the one enjoying the image the most out of the two of us" He retorted, trying to clear his throat and struggle once more for good measure. "You don't even know? And here I thought you were their leader, they seem to listen to you."

Lavellan's breath hitched for a moment as he felt that hand moving down lower, the implication of it more than obvious. Not to mention the way he called him Little Elf, a pet name that was as teasing as it was somewhat degrading. "Is that so, how gracious you are to point out all our issues and somehow you have the answer to them" He remarked, face flushing at the remark about wandering into his grasp, much like a prey obliviously wandering into the wolf's den. "You really think you can at one point say you're going to keep me for as long as you like but also that you can make some kind of formal deal? Your ego is certainly not in question" He retorted, breathing heavily. "...What sort of deal?"

"Some of us. Other's never made the cut, some were shunned from the opposite side. You'd be amazed where those the world lrgely turns away from find themselves, Inquisitor." It was the first time anybody in their little village had used that specific title. Christopher's hold never loosened, even as he shifted until he could drop himself down against the mattress. Palm holding firm to those tightening stomach muscles and huffing out a sound.

"I mean it. Breathe. If you'd rather make a break for it and end up amidst every man out there, well, I can certainly see some of the appeal but you don't strike me as the sort to enjoy being passed around as a camp party favour. Am I wrong?"

"I should of known, only Templars would be that eager to get their hands on a mage" He shot back, swallowing thickly and felt his body freeze for a moment at his title being used. So, he did know who he was...which made all of this much more of a bold choice on the large man's part and his men. Question is...what did they want with him? "And are you one of those Templars or did you not make the cut?" He added, glaring at him with those sharp eyes of his.

Then the comment about being surrounded by all those men was said, catching him off-guard and his face heating up further at the thought of the Inquisitor being used as a party favour. "I...that's what your men get up to? What they want from me?" He managed to ask, swallowing thickly. "Given you seem to be their leader, seems like you're the kind who would be responsible for encouraging that behaviour" He retorted, perhaps dodging the question. "Now tell me, what do you want? A ransom from the Inquisition, attempting to sell me off somewhere or did none of you think that far ahead?"

To the victor, the spoils. An unfortunate code to live by for those who travelled light like the elven mage who'd seen fit to try and fight his way out. Usually, he and his men were amicable, work off your time if you didn't happen to be worth anything. Elsewise making a living would be impossible in the world. And Christopher had warned the man that there would be some consequence should he still take the actions he aimed to.

Even now, the calls of his men dying down after he'd at least seen fit to drag the mage behind the cover of his cabin. Bringing the other's body in close before the fabric was torn asunder. One arm quick to lock around the other's now exposed midsection, while his face pressed in close to the other's neck.

"Breathe, little elf, I'd rather you not pass out." The arm not keeping the other secure against his chest shifted slowly, reaching up to curl fingers in to Lavellen's hair, to tilt his head to the side.

His body froze for a moment when he felt those fingers in his hair, making his head tilt to the side as he felt that face against his neck, the actions and words alone were enough to make his face heat up but it didn't stop the sharp tone that followed. "I don't typically listen to the suggestions of my captor" He retorted, swallowing thickly and flexing his stomach muscles as he continued to squirm. Though truth be told, the advice to not pass out was probably a good one.

"If you and your thugs know what's good for you, you'll let me go this instant. What are you, former Templars?"

Thomas was someone who found himself able to conquer and devour whatever and whoever he pleased. Not be being the strongest man in the room, but by playing his power through his calmness. The way he used his words was something that could be studied. Should be even. As the older gentleman had placed his silk tie around the boy's neck, he grinned as he saw the beauty.

There was nothing like seeing a boy like Peter being filled with his cock as he pulled the silk so sweetly through his fingers. Pulling the boy's head back, he spoke as kept his thrusts strong and hard yet slow. "Look at you, Peter...so beautiful and sweet in my grasps. Like an angel, a hero, who's power isn't so strong in this room.." The bed shook under them as he gave a powerful slam. His entire length buried deep within him as he panted. Thomas took in all the pleasure he could before speaking. "Who knew I'd catch a hero on my roof and bring him down to my chambers?"

But the rest of his costume was tossed to the ground, almost carelessly like it didn't matter. His tight, muscled body on display and stripped bare and feeling that tie wrapped around his neck, like a leash and collar used to control him. Face heated up under the mask at those wicked words mixed in with the shameful pleasure, fingers gripping the sheets and strangled noises past his lips. Being talked about like he was captured helpless prey, not like he could respond easily giving the sensations running through his body.

"F-Fuck, I...h-holy shit I...d-definitely shouldn't be down here, I...nghh, I shouldn't..."