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I hope…It would mean so much to me if we could talk about this and be honest with each other.
I want you to know you never have to be anxious to be yourself with me. Never again. No secrets. No holding back.
If I am wrong, if you don't want me that way, Ty, please forgive me for this. I hope you know I will always love you no matter who we are to each other. You are my family.You are my friend. I will always be there for you.
I love you
Love, Rian
PROLOGUE
Rian, Ri, Ree-ahn
BOSTON 2022
“Oh, shit! You’re fucking killing me, you fucking slut! I wish you could see yourself right now – your hungry hole sucking me in. Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” Harris takes a fist full of Rian’s hair and yanks his head up, viciously pulling back and growling as he is slamming faster into Rian’s helpless body. “Take it! That’s right, fucking take it, you filthy bitch! You’re such a whore for my cock. I know you want it.” Harris snarls as he fucks Rian into the mattress, pressing his neck roughly into the dirty linens damp with sweat, tears, and spit. His hard body crashes into Rian’s, bringing him nothing but pain and humiliation.
The sounds of his hitched breathing and the brutal slapping of skin-on-skin echo loudly through their luxurious home. They are not even alone. Rian doesn’t get to be abused in private.
This whole scene seems to be some type of overdone performance for the men from the security team, sitting in the kitchen, down the hall from them. They are probably sipping on their late afternoon coffee, gloating, eagerly listening to what is being done to him. Rian is sure of it, just as he is sure that none of them would attempt to help him. What’s even worse is that they most likely think there’s nothing wrong with what’s going on at all.
Do you even know what you’re doing to me?
The words play in his mind on an endless loop.
Rian really doesn’t know what it is about him that drives Harris to these extreme acts of violence. He can’t move under Harris’s very painful and forceful grip, nor is he allowed to speak at all. Harris is hurting him, and no matter how numb Rian has grown to feel about the physical cruelty, the emotional abuse seems to only escalate, breaking his brittle faith that there is any likelihood of escaping.
This monster has successfully managed to deprive Rian of his freedom years ago. There is no haven in sight. No respite. No mercy. No hope. Harris owns Rian completely – his identity, his money, his works of art, and every book he’s ever written.
Ending his own life is the only way he could free himself from thisloveHarris claims he feels for him.
Frankly, the reason he hasn’t taken that final leap is fear. He firmly believes that killing himself won’t be quick enough. That he would be found and hastily put back together so that Harris could continue torturing him until Rian loses his mind completely.
And then there is Bran to think of.
Harris empties himself inside Rian, grunting through his release as if he hated fucking him. Like he’s angry he’s come at all. He does that while pressing the back of Rian’s head with his large hand into the soiled mattress, in such a forceful way, that either his nose will start bleeding soon or he won’t be able to breathe and start choking and slobbering. Absentmindedly, Rian thinks, Harris would prefer a bleeding nose. It would give Rian a migraine that would linger for days after thisromanticencounter. He hates himself for being able to think at all. For being used to it. For letting it happen.
Rian can hardly hear the last of Harris’s grunts. His own sobs are choking him, as the reality of his life never ceases to further break his already shattered heart.
Rian can’t move his head enough to gasp for air. For a brief moment, as his oxygen is completely cut off by the sheer pressure of the monstrous paw-like hand that holds him in place, he freezes. His body is in complete shock, unable to respond to this very clear danger threatening his life. He doesn’t fight back.
Harris has done this to him. His relentless soul-crushing campaign has Rian firmly convinced, body and soul, that all he can do is either wait to be killed or hope to be spared.
The realization rattles him to his very core. Suddenly, the room is spinning, and he feels like a ragdoll devoid of any living substance. He hopes his tears will be soaked into the sheets and Harris won’t see that he cried instead of enjoying theirlovemaking.
Why Harris insists on calling it that, Rian has no idea. Surely, it’s part of the mind-fucking games he loves to play with Rian. How can this belove?
A humiliating sense of relief takes over when seconds later, Harris whacks the back of his head hard and lifts himself off Rian as abruptly as he had initiated the sexual encounter. This means he doesn’t have time to fuck around and torment Rian for too long.
He spreads Rian’s ass cheeks roughly, and spits on his stretched gaping hole, now painfully burning from the mostly dry, raw fuck.
“I love our playtime, darling. You're such a good whore for my cock. Look at this hungry cunt gaping wide open. Fuck! You’re such a slut. I think you’re ready to be fucked again. I know you want it. I bet you can take more than one cock in that used-up asshole. What do you say, darling? Should I bring back one of my men tonight and see how you can handle two fat cocks at the same time?”
Harris delivers his little monologue, his voice dripping with menacing promises. Rian shivers, dreading that Harris might lose his mind completely one of these days and make good on his threat.
It’s all just talk,Rian tells himself.
Harris doesn’t share. As far as Rian knows he isn’t fucking anyone else.
