Screwing the System (22 page)

“Tell me what you’ve done, boy.” Alasdair spread Cosmo’s cheeks wide and made sure he caught the base of the plug with his thumbs every time he circled them past. “I think you’ve been pretty good today, making dinner and everything. Getting yourself ready for me.” He flicked the plug hard, knowing from Cosmo’s gasp he’d hit the right spot.

“Fuck. Oh fuck. I’ve been, umm… I’ve been slouching. Yeah, slouching. You said it yourself.”

“So you have, but the corset is punishment for that.”

“Christ. Okay, I’ve been snooping. Going through your drawers and shit.”

Alasdair chuckled. “I never said you couldn’t.” He’d known Cosmo probably wouldn’t be able to resist, but he really didn’t have anything to hide. There was nothing in the house he felt ashamed of.

“Arrgh. I nearly tossed one off in the shower yesterday, after you’d gone to work.”

“But you didn’t come?” Alasdair kept up the same maddeningly slow circle of his thumbs, relishing Cosmo’s increasing desperation and needy moans. He added in the occasional jab of his cockhead to Cosmo’s hole, nudging the plug again and again.

“No. No, but I bloody well wish I had now. Will you just spank me already?”

“Why?”

“Because…because I—”

“Because what? Give me one good, honest reason.”

“Because I fucking want you to, all right? Please, please, boss. I want it so bad.”

How could he resist that naked plea? Alasdair didn’t waste any time, as Cosmo was in the perfect position. He rained down smack after smack, covering every inch of flesh between the bottom of the corset and the top of Cosmo’s thighs. Cosmo’s moans became groans, loud and wanton as he thrust his arse up eagerly to meet Alasdair’s hand. He carried on, not ceasing until his palm smarted and Cosmo’s skin was a shiny red. Alasdair sank to his knees and kissed the sensitised skin, breathing deep to fill his lungs with the scent of Cosmo’s arousal. Cosmo quivered and panted as Alasdair pressed his fingers into the abused skin around his hole. The lad was ready for him, muscles giving way under his touch.

“I hope you used plenty of lube earlier. Don’t think I can wait to prep you anymore.”

“Please, just do it,” Cosmo croaked. “Need to come.”

“Not yet. Wait for me.”

Cosmo groaned, but it turned into a broken whimper as Alasdair finally pulled out the plug in one swift motion. He didn’t pause before slamming in, Cosmo’s body pulling him into a tight embrace. The heat of Cosmo’s buttocks against his body almost scorched him, the sensation tingling in Alasdair’s balls. This was going to have to be fast and furious. He grabbed hold of the corset ties and wrapped them round his hands. “Let go of the bedpost. I’ve got you.”

When Cosmo had released his grip, Alasdair pulled him up to standing and shuffled them both over closer to the main mirror, unwilling to leave Cosmo’s clenching heat for even a moment. “Watch us,” he commanded, gratified to see how quickly Cosmo’s eyes sprang open, despite him obviously being lost somewhere in subspace.

Alasdair kept hold of those laces and used them to support Cosmo’s lolling body, pistoning in and out of him as slowly as he could manage, which was still pretty fucking fast.

“Please, please, please…” Cosmo whimpered, his muscles fluttering around Alasdair’s cock in that telltale way it always did when he was about to come.

“Do it. Arms around my neck. Come for me.” Alasdair let go of the cords and reached around to support Cosmo’s chest, one hand circling his dick.

Cosmo howled as he came, his dick pulsing in Alasdair’s grip as jet after jet of creamy spunk spattered onto the mirror. Alasdair fucked him through it, watching their reflections. Cosmo had his head flung back against Alasdair’s shoulder, the cords of his neck standing out and his body splayed in a position of perfect trust.

I love this man
, Alasdair thought, letting the rippling heat of Cosmo’s orgasm pull his own out of his balls until it flooded his senses.
I love him so much.

But he didn’t say it out loud, and after they’d both come down, Cosmo was far too sleepy to pay attention. Alasdair would tell him one day. As soon as he was sure Cosmo felt the same way and wasn’t about to break his heart.

He couldn’t cope with that again.

Chapter Seventeen

Two days after the whole corset thing, and Cosmo was still remembering to stand up straight most of the time. Not that he didn’t want to wear it again, but he thought next time he’d rather ask for it himself—perhaps by deliberately slouching in a provocative manner.

Memories of Alasdair lacing him up ran through his head as he let himself into the Wycombe house again on Saturday morning. Although he still had the front-door key, it didn’t seem to feel like home anymore. Never had, to be honest. Not now he had a real home to compare it to.

Not that he’d told Alasdair he’d be moving in for good, yet. Two and a half weeks of living together really wasn’t enough time to make a decision that big, despite everything inside him screaming for him to stay. But he only had ten days left to make up his mind. Maybe some time with the guys would put things in perspective. Give him a reality check after his days of bimbling around a swanky house and his nights of being fucked and used, in the very best possible way.

“Hey guys, ready to jam?” Cosmo called.

As he moved through the empty house, Cosmo could hear noises coming from the garage, Brett playing the same sequence of notes over and over. Odd. He didn’t recognise that bass line, although it was generic enough to be from any number of substandard metal-by-numbers tunes from the last decade.

“Yeah, you’ve got it, man,” Rizzo announced as Cosmo opened the door. “Hey, Cosmo, you’ve gotta hear this. We’ve been working on it, like, all week.”

They’d been practising without him? That was kinda good, as God knew Brett and Nasher needed all the extra help they could get, but on a new song? They hadn’t exactly mastered the ones on the set list yet. “Oh yeah? I don’t recognise that one.”

Cosmo had a feeling from Rizzo’s smug smile that he wasn’t going to enjoy finding out why.

“It’s one of mine,” Rizzo announced grandly.

Rizzo had written a song? “What the fuck? We need to be working on the set list for next week. We haven’t got time to be practising anything else.” They hadn’t had time to practise Cosmo’s songs, anyway, which were a damn sight more original and interesting than whatever
that
had been.

“This is on the new set list, man. Keep up. We voted it in two days ago.”

Unbe-fucking-lievable. “No one told me.” Cosmo looked in Nasher’s direction, who stared down at his snare drum, a guilty flush spreading over his face. “Fuck’s sake, Nash, you could have texted me or something.”

“Rizzo wanted it to be a surprise,” Nasher mumbled.

Cosmo glared at the man in question. Oh yeah, he knew what that bastard was up to. “This is my band, and I have the final say on any decisions like this.”

“
Your
band? We’re a team. Or at least the rest of us are, but you keep swanning off to get your arse fucked all the time.” Rizzo’s lip curled in a sneer. “If your new boyfriend’s more important than the band, then maybe you should leave.”

“I’m the bloody front man. You need me. Who’s going to sing if I go?”

“Rizzo can sing,” Brett piped up.

Cosmo whirled on the traitor. “Rizzo’s got no range, and he sings out of his nose.”

“He sounds all right on the track he wrote.”

“Yeah, well that’s because you’re tone deaf and wouldn’t recognise a decent piece of music if it came up and throttled you.”

Oops. Cosmo clamped his mouth shut and attempted to control the seething rage intent on wiping out all his tact. Bit late for that, judging by Brett’s wounded expression. “Shit, I’m sorry, mate. Didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh, we know exactly how you meant it,
Cosmo Magazine
.” Rizzo sneered. “Think you’re better than the rest of us, don’t you? Well, there’s no ‘I’ in team, is there lads?”

Brett nodded vigorously, but Nasher at least had the decency to look awkward. “Cosmo’s a great singer,” Nasher said, but then added, “So are you, Rizz,” which felt like a slap in the face.

“Great, well I’ll just bugger off then, shall I? Let you carry on without me. Good luck with the gig, coz you’re really gonna need it without a rhythm guitar or a decent singer.”

“Cosmo!” Nasher called, but Cosmo was already banging the front door shut behind him and letting his legs carry him away as fast as they could.

Cosmo ran downhill, with no particular destination in mind. He just needed to pound the anger and frustration out of his body. Bloody bastard. Rizzo had been fucking well waiting for his opportunity to muscle in and take the band away from him, and since Cosmo had been distracted by Alasdair, he’d moved in for the kill. Arsehole.

Cosmo’s route took him down into town, and his feet carried him by autopilot into the first pub he passed. Drowning his rage in a pint or two would be better than taking it back home to Alasdair.

Three pints of cider later, and the sharp edge of Cosmo’s anger had worn down to a dull ache in his belly. The barmaid seemed to have heard enough of Cosmo’s woes, if her bored expression was anything to go by, so he called a taxi to take him back home. It was Saturday. Alasdair would be there, and he’d know what to do about all this.

But Alasdair wasn’t there.

Cosmo searched the house from top to bottom, but it remained as empty as ever. For crying out loud, where was the man when he needed him? He pulled out his mobile and fumbled the keys with alcohol-numbed fingers.

“Where are you?” he demanded when Alasdair answered his phone.

“Excuse me? A hello would be nice.”

“Where the fuck are you? Please? I need to see you.” He needed Alasdair to fuck him so hard he’d forget all about the shitty day he’d had.

Alasdair sighed. “Have you been drinking?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“During the day? Come on, I thought we had an agreement.”

“Bugger that. Do you even care what kind of day I’ve had?”

“Right this very moment? No, not particularly, but if you apologise for your behaviour and wait until I get home, I’ll be happy to listen to whatever you want to tell me.”

Patronising bastard. “Don’t bother yourself about it. It’s just more of life shitting on me from a great height. I’ll be fine, though. I always bloody well am, aren’t I?”

“Cosmo—” But Cosmo hung up and switched his phone off. Fuck it. If he couldn’t work off his bad mood with some angry sex, he’d have a swim instead.

He was in the pool when Alasdair returned, and finished his length as he watched Alasdair stride up to stand on the edge with his arms folded and his expression grim. Uh-oh. That was an
I’m going to discipline you
face if ever he saw one. Best stay in the water for now.

“You’re back,” Cosmo said when the silence had begun to make his skin itch. “Thanks.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Just a few pints.”

“A few pints? And you’re swimming on your own? For fuck’s sake, Cosmo, are you always this much of an irresponsible brat?”

Shitshitshit
. “I’m not drunk anymore.”

“I don’t care what you think you are. The fact is, you’ve not only been drinking during the day when I expressly asked you not to, but you’ve then gone and compounded your stupidity by risking drowning. Do you have a death wish or something?”
 

Shit. The man looked really worried, not just pissed off. “No. I’m fine, aren’t I?”

“This time, yes. Get out of there, and we’ll discuss your punishment.”

Alasdair’s gaze was heavy enough to weigh Cosmo down as he dragged himself out of the water. Bossy fucking bastard, standing there all superior in his posh suit while Cosmo stood naked and dripping in the cool air. Anger churned Cosmo’s guts. “I don’t see why I should have a fucking punishment.”

“You broke the rules.” Alasdair’s words were as icy as his eyes. Cosmo should have been scared—maybe part of him was—but the injustice of his whole shitty day kept him mad.

“Your rules, mate. And I always thought that one was stupid. I needed that drink.”

“Nobody
needs
a drink.”

“What the fuck would you know about it, Mr. So-fucking-perfect-he-never-fucks-up? Bet when you have a problem, you wave money at it and it goes away. The rest of us pond scum have to deal with real life, not like you posh bastards.”

“What the hell would you know about my life?”

“Very fucking little, it seems. You haven’t even introduced me to any of your friends yet. Am I your dirty little secret? Your bit of rough you’re going to play with for a while until you get sick of me and dump me back in the gutter where I belong?”

“Have you quite finished?” Alasdair didn’t shout, but the controlled fury was even more fucking scary than a bellow. His nostrils flared with every breath, and his fists clenched so tight his knuckles showed white. “I’ve had enough of listening to this pity party. You broke the rules, and you’ve insulted us both with that little speech. You deserve to be punished. Inside. Now.”

Oh shit. It wasn’t just the cool air on his wet skin making him shiver. Alasdair meant business. Cosmo’s anger folded in on itself, leaving him standing there with just his terror holding him upright.