Chapter 10

Water filled the massive tub in a bathroom that fit perfectly with the gothic style of the loft, and Wren took in every detail of the room, doing his best not to stare at the man by his side. The heavy cast bath had emperor claw feet, the iron exterior burnished almost black, the enamel interior a pristine white. A few people could probably fit in that tub. He tried to imagine Doc sliding in with two or three giggling subs around him like some kind of God being attended by his worshipers, fed grapes while sipping from a glass of wine.

The image didn’t quite fit in his head, but he could see Doc pushing the subs under the water, holding them there, forcing them to trust him to release them before they drowned. Then there’d be no more giggling. Nothing but dark anticipation as his tight control slipped over every one of them.

Or… No, probably not. Like all but the most hardcore masochists, the silly little subs would run away and whisper about how scary the Dom was. For some reason, the whole twisted scenario playing out in his head made his lips curve slightly. Doc was a damn good Dom. He should have a sub who’d appreciate everything he had to offer.

Which he found plenty of. Wren almost bit hard into his bottom lip, stopping himself when Doc glanced his way. He lowered his gaze, recalling the last sub he’d seen in the bar, waiting for Doc’s shirt to finish so they could go up to the dungeon together. Kelly, a gorgeous submissive in his early thirties, retired from professional ballet, now one of the instructors at Jamie’s arts center. Big blue eyes, black hair, he was a sub all the Doms wanted because he was sexy and well behaved and had very few limits.

He’d looked perfect, kneeling at Doc’s feet before the Dom had motioned with his leather-gloved hand for him to follow. The satisfied smirk on Kelly’s lips as he glided up the stairs, catching the eyes of a few of the subs who’d played with Doc in the past, had Wren hoping he’d trip on his way up and fall on his face. Not that he’d ever say that out loud. And he wouldn’t point out all the reasons Kelly was wrong for Doc.

Turning off the freestanding faucet, Doc turned to him and crooked his finger. Once Wren was close enough, he began undoing the buttons of his shirt. He eased it off Wren’s shoulders, setting it on the long counter, where all his shaving supplies were laid out. Not messy or anything, but as though he’d been in a rush and put them away quickly. There was a tiny bit of shaving cream next to the sink. The straight blade was partly open on the small tray. Everything needed straightening up so the man could come back from his long shifts at the hospital, then behind the bar or tending to fighters, without having to worry about taking care of it himself.

All those subs he played with and not one took care of his loft for him? Wren did general upkeep, but it wasn’t enough. Would the Dom let him do more? Probably not, since he wasn’t supposed to lift anything heavier than a fork. He’d told him to drink tea though, so a mug was okay. Nothing in the bathroom was much bigger than that, so maybe he’d be allowed? Not that he’d ask. He’d wait to be told, though a sub shouldn’t have to be told to do basic chores that were so obvious. Maybe Kelly wasn’t so perfect after all, but he wasn’t here now. Wren frowned, then jumped when Doc snapped his fingers.

“Your focus should be on me, boy.” His brow rose as he tapped under Wren’s chin and held his gaze. Those blue eyes were damn hypnotic and impossible to look away from when the Dom forced him to meet them. “A million different thoughts going through that head. Which one made you frown like that?”

There hadn’t been just one, but Wren tried to be specific. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, sir, I was just wondering why Kelly hasn’t been maintaining the loft for you, but it’s none of my business. There’s so many little things I could be taking care of, but I’m never here long enough. Someone should though, but maybe you don’t like service submissives and…” God, why did that idea bother him so much? Obviously, Doc would have no interest in a sub like him. He’d been here less than an hour and already earned a punishment for being an idiot. He touched the tip of his tongue to his bottom lip, which was still a little tender. Less so after all the ice—heat crawled up the back of his neck. The intense punishment had been one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced. And just thinking that felt wrong.

He shouldn’t enjoy punishments. Ever. If anything, he should be ashamed that a Dom caring for him had to issue one in the first place. Noah wouldn’t be pleased.

But...Doc had forgiven him. He’d touched him and called him beautiful. A treasure. Wren’s throat tightened, confusion clashing with need as he pressed his eyes shut, trying to get his mind to quiet so he could bring his focus back where it belonged.

“Look at me.” Doc’s rough command had his eyes immediately opening, trapped back in that ice-cold gaze that somehow steadied and warmed him all at once. The Dom undid Wren’s slacks. “Kelly has never been in my loft. I have no idea if he’s a service submissive, nor do I care. He was mildly entertaining for a few nights.”

“Oh…” Wren wrinkled his nose, holding his breath as his slacks were lowered, along with his underwear, then socks. He stepped out of them, curling his fingers into his palms to resist the urge to take his clothes and put them neatly out of sight. Having a Dom tend to him like this felt all kinds of backward. “I should’ve figured you don’t have time for a full-time sub and I’ve never seen you with the same one for long, but if it would please you, sir, I’d like to take care of things for you. You’ve done so much for me and I’m really good at it and you’d hardly notice I was here.”

The edge of Doc’s lips inched up as he shook his head. “Not until the observation period is over. Then we may discuss you doing small tasks.” He regarded Wren for a long moment. Let out a soft laugh. “And I’d notice you, boy.”

The way he said it didn’t sound like a bad thing. Wren let his hands relax at his sides, calming his breaths, holding still as the man looked him over. His gaze brushed over his bare skin like the soft, cool caress of the smooth leather gloves he always wore. He hadn’t worn them with Wren, which made him feel...special, somehow. Even once Noah came to collect him, he’d have the memory of that touch. Of his time here, alone with the Dom he’d admired from a distance. He’d never let himself wonder if he could be a good submissive for him, that was ridiculous. He was happy enough that he’d gained the Dom’s approval in the twenty months he’d been at The Asylum.

And, even though he shouldn’t be, he liked hearing that Kelly hadn’t been any different than any of the other subs Doc played with. Wren tried not to judge anyone—he was well aware of his own flaws—but Kelly wasn’t good enough for this man.

“Come.” Doc held out his hand, supporting Wren as he stepped into the bath, steam lightly scented with vanilla rising around him. His strong grip remained as Wren sank down into the water, which was hot enough to soothe every tight, aching muscle, but not enough to burn. Once he settled in, Doc pressed lightly on his shoulder until he eased back against the smooth, curving rise at the back of the tub.

The aroma of the essential oil lulled him into a relaxed state so deep he had to fight the urge to let his eyes drift shut, because he’d fall asleep. He didn’t want to miss a moment of what Doc was doing to him, even if it was only because the man had decided to watch over him while Noah couldn’t. Being touched like this was pure heaven. He almost wished the Dom wasn’t using a washcloth as he began gently washing his face, then his chest. He’d been fine for so long with only Noah’s brief displays of affection. The way he stroked Wren’s hair back or touched his cheek. The light brush of his lips over Wren’s the rare times he thought he needed more.

But being held by Doc, even when he’d earned a punishment, had him craving all the things he knew he couldn’t have. Not without losing his place with Noah, without giving another Dom everything he’d reserved for the man he owed his life. Not a single Dom in the club had ever made him even consider it.

Until...now.

The test at the hospital must’ve missed some serious damage to your head if you’re thinking about Doc like that.

He lifted his arms obediently at a quiet command, then sat forward, stifling a soft moan as the cloth stroked over his shoulders, then down his back. Digging in with the pressure of a deep massage, leaving enough heat behind he wondered if there were marks on his flesh and wished they could last. He absorbed every sensation, locked it away with precious memories to wrap around himself when loneliness seeped past his defenses, and gratitude wasn’t enough to fill the longing he usually managed to ignore. Longing he couldn’t shake as he imagined actually belonging to Doc. Pretended the way the man looked at him meant something.

He’s doing this for Noah. That’s it.

“Tip your head back.” Doc petted his hair, then combed his fingers into it, tightening his grip well away from Wren’s wound. A dark smile slanted his lips as a rough sound escaped Wren’s throat. He leaned close, speaking softly in his ear. “So needy...it hurts, doesn’t it? Has Noah ever done this for you?”