A black envelope lies on the threshold, my name embossed in elegant crimson lettering. The Blackwood family crest adorns the seal—a raven with ruby eyes. My stomach tightens.
I pick it up, turning it over in my hands. The weight of the paper alone screams luxury, but it’s the timing that unsettles me. The Hunt happened almost a year ago.
Back in the kitchen, Victor sits hunched over his laptop, spreadsheets filling the screen as he reviews the gym’s quarterly finances. Dark circles shadow his eyes—he’s been working since five this morning.
“Hey,” I say, waving the envelope. “Something came.”
Victor grunts without looking up, fingers still tapping away at the keyboard.
I slide my thumbnail under the seal and pull out a heavy cardstock invitation. As my eyes scan the elegant script, my breath catches.
“Vic,” I say, my voice sharper now. “It’s from Xavier Blackwood.”
That gets his attention. His head snaps up, brow furrowed.
“The Anniversary of the Hunt,” I read aloud. “A celebration for all participants and their... partners.” I meet Victor’s gaze. “The traditional hunt is suspended this year. Instead, they’re holding a reenactment party with the original participants and pairings from the last hunt.”
Victor’s jaw clenches. “When?”
“Next weekend.” I place the invitation on the table between us.
Victor reaches for the card, studying it with narrowed eyes.
“Same people, same pairings,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.
Victor tosses the invitation onto the table like it’s burned him. “That’s not happening. I’m not letting Elliot’s cock within an inch of your ass.”
I can’t help but laugh at his possessiveness, leaning against the kitchen counter. The eggs are forgotten, starting to crisp at the edges.
“And why not get it within an inch of yours instead?” I suggest, enjoying the way his face transforms from scowling to shocked in an instant.
“What?” Victor’s eyes widen comically.
“You haven’t experienced how good it feels to be fucked while fucking,” I continue, keeping my tone casual as I turn back to rescue our breakfast. “It’s... transcendent.”
Victor stares at me, his mouth slightly open. I can see him processing the suggestion—imagining it despite himself.
“You wouldn’t mind if another man fucked my ass?” His voice drops lower, surprisingly vulnerable.
I slide the eggs onto plates, considering my answer. It’s a serious question beneath the surface. Victor’s journey fromcloseted to openly bisexual has been a battle, each step forward hard-won.
“I’m not greedy,” I say finally, meeting his eyes. “I can share for your pleasure. All I want is for you to feel good.”
I bring the plates to the table and lean close to his ear, lowering my voice. “Besides, I know that really, the only man that gets Daddy going is his boy.”
The flush that creeps up Victor’s neck tells me I’m right.
Victor shakes his head, though his eyes remain dark with desire. “It’s unlikely. Julian is very possessive of Elliot.”
“True,” I agree, sliding into the chair across from him.
Then the idea hits me, and I feel my eyes widen with excitement. “Fuck, even better, have Elliot fucking Julian while Julian fucks you and you fuck me. Four at the same time in a train, what could be hotter, the two doms in the middle taking and receiving cock.”
Victor’s fork freezes halfway to his mouth, eggs momentarily forgotten as his imagination clearly runs wild with the image I’ve just painted. His pupils dilate noticeably, and I watch his throat work as he swallows.
“Jesus, Theo,” he mutters, setting down his fork. “You can’t just say shit like that when I have meetings today.”
I smirk, enjoying the way his body betrays his interest despite his protests. The flush traveling up his neck has deepened, spreading across his cheeks.
