Chapter 82: Bathroom Shenanigans

CASSIAN

Mateo de la Vega is a man who loves the sound of his own voice. For the last forty minutes, I had been subjected to a monologue regarding the vintage of his cellar and the “primitive beauty” of the Andalusian hills.

I nodded where appropriate. I smiled the practiced, empty smile of a man who had spent his life navigating boardrooms and galas. But my mind was a thousand yards away, focused entirely on the small, silver remote tucked into the pocket of my slacks.

My thumb brushed the dial.

Across the paddock, I watched Noah stumble. I watched Alex Hendrix… that insufferable, opportunistic leach… place his hands on Noah’s waist to “steady” him. I felt a surge of cold, possessive fury that nearly broke through my mask.

“You seem distracted, my boy,” Mateo observed, a knowing glint in his eyes. He looked toward the paddock, then back at me. “Perhaps the heat is getting to you as well.”

“Not at all,” I said, my voice smooth as glass. “I was simply admiring the… spirit of the horses.”

“Indeed. Well, perhaps we should prepare for the shoot,” Mateo suggested. “The sun is at its best now. You’ll want to get ready.”

“Of course. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need to check on a few details with my assistant.”

I didn’t head to the shooting range. I didn’t head to the stables. I tracked the path Noah had taken, my steps brisk and purposeful. I found the guard stationed near the hallway leading to the main house’s guest wing.

I reached into my wallet, pulling out a crisp, high-denomination bill. I didn’t say a word as I slipped it into the man’s breast pocket.

“No one enters for the next ten minutes,” I said.

The guard looked at the money, then at my face. He saw whatever was written there… the sharp, predatory hunger I usually kept under lock and key and he nodded, stepping aside without a word.

I entered the bathroom and locked the heavy oak door behind me.

The silence of the house was replaced by something much more interesting. Soft, desperate moaning. It was a broken, melodic sound that pulled at the leash I held on my own self-control. I followed it to the end stall.

“Noah.”

“Occupied!”

The sheer panic in his voice was almost enough to make me laugh. Almost. But I was too focused on the visual I knew was waiting for me on the other side of that thin wooden barrier.

I didn’t waste time with further warnings. I set my shoulder against the door and gave it one firm, calculated shove. The latch snapped like a twig.

The sight that greeted me was… breathtaking.

Noah was perched on the closed lid of the toilet, looking like a discarded masterpiece. His chinos and briefs were tangled around his ankles. One pale, slender leg was propped up against the wall, his knee bent, creating an angle that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

He looked like a deer caught in high-beams, but a deer that had been caught doing something remarkably filthy. One hand was reached behind him, fingers white-knuckled as he gripped the base of the plug. His other hand was wrapped around his cock which was flushed a deep, angry red and leaking onto his own stomach.

His face was a mask of pure, unadulterated shock.

I stopped in the doorway. I didn’t move. I simply let my eyes travel over him, taking in the trembling of his thighs, the sweat beading on his upper lip, and the way his chest heaved as he tried to process my arrival.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he scrambled, his hands flying up in a useless, flailing attempt to cover himself. He looked like a panicked bird.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. I stepped into the stall, the space suddenly feeling very, very small. I closed the broken door behind me, leaning my back against it and crossing my arms.

I took in the sight of the plug… half-extracted, the slick silicone catching the light.

“By all means,” I said, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across my face. “Don’t let me interrupt. Continue.”

“You can’t just—” he started, his voice cracking.

“But I hope you weren’t trying to take that out,” I interrupted. My voice was a low, steady hum, the kind of tone I used when I was closing a deal that involved destroying a competitor.

“Of course I was!” Noah snapped, his defensive walls going up in a desperate scramble. “There’s no way I can function with this thing buzzing in my ass! I’m supposed to be riding a horse, Cassian! Not… vibrating!”

I took a single, predatory step closer, looming over him until he was forced to tilt his head back to look at me. “If you take it out,” I said, leaning down so my breath fanned across his burning cheek, “I’m going to tie you up with an even bigger toy in your ass for the entire night. We’ll skip the dinner. We’ll skip the sleep. Do you understand?”

“You can’t do that! It’s not fair!”

I looked down at him, my expression unreadable. “Do I need to remind you, Noah, that I am anything but fair?”

The defiance in his eyes flickered, then died out, replaced by a sullen, dazed defeat. He knew me. He knew I didn’t make idle threats. Slowly, with hands that shook visibly, Noah reached back. His eyes never left mine, filled with a mix of loathing and a heat he couldn’t quite hide.

He found the base of the plug and pushed.

“Fuck…”

The moan was low, involuntary, and absolutely devastating. His head tipped back against the stall wall, his eyes fluttering closed as the silicone slid home, settling deep against his prostate. I watched the way his cock twitched in response, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip.

I smirked, the victory tasting sweeter than the most expensive vintage in Mateo’s cellar. “Good boy.”

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