Casper
His shoulders sagged with relief when laughter spilt across the household. MinJae's mood was visibly lifted with blossoming lilacs that teemed over his hair and saturated the air with its wet sticky scent. Ezra's skin was glowing despite the pinch of annoyance between his brow, and nestled between the two on the couch was their soulmate, radiating sweet creamy pink.
They'd had sex, good sex of course.
Good enough for Ezra to lose the bite of tightness in his jaw, and for the perpetual wrinkle at the edge of MinJae's lips to disappear. Good sex always did seem to pump them full with drugs so potent that the emotional uplift became long term. Something, Casper hadn't had the opportunity to experience despite the year they'd spent together as a family.
Fuck.
And his gut coiled, muscles tightening in his jaw. Casper wasn't like the rest with their puny little demands for vanilla sex and simple sweet love. The slight hints of something risqué, the little escapades, the tiny dips into those other genres were all still too vanilla for his darker, stranger demands.
The sort of demand that would push him into piercing his cock till it was riddled with metal despite how much it had hurt. The sort of demand borne from the noose that his family tied around his neck. Or maybe it was all just him and his dark twisted soul.
Casper wanted something…dirtier, filthier.
Something that made him feel alive. Something that was madness, reckless impulse that would destroy some and lose others. Something that was filled to the brim with control and the need to dominate. Something that could be…Unnatural.
And that was the only reason why he'd continue to push Amber away. There was darkness in him, a darkness he didn't know if she would like. A simmering vat of pitch-black oil that sank deep within his soul and refused to surface even when she'd tap on it with her pretty little fingers. It was the same for Oliver. He'd tasted her, sure, sunk his cock into her beautifully wet cunt and let himself be wrecked by the pleasure.
But it wasn't enough.
Casper caught him jerking off silently in the corner after it all, eyes glazed as he pictured and imagined things they didn't know whether she would like. But they both knew she would agree to it in a heartbeat. She would do anything for them, even bend against her wants and needs. And that was exactly what Casper could not have.
For them to fuck up their relationship, for what occurred in bed to transfer to what occurred when they were together, for things to change between them. The awkward glances, the judgemental stares and later the flinches and curl of lips. Disgust, contempt, scorn.
Or she could genuinely enjoy it—
And that was when the thoughts slammed into his head creating a fantasy that had adrenaline pumping and his cock swelling, tight and thick against the zipper of his pants. The metal bars brushing against rough denim as his balls ached and tightened. Barbells that hurt but pleasured his sick, twisted soul.
And maybe that was why he allowed himself to be tortured, steadily and surely.
Maybe that was why he kept it all a secret, tried so hard to convince himself that he was like the others. Just a normal man with normal wants. Just a normal man with normal needs. All that metal in his dick was just for the fucking aesthetics.
And it'd worked for a while when he hadn't met Amber, when her existence was more crucial than his own sexual preferences. When his wet dreams were all just about his cock sinking into her folds, and her body splayed over his chest along with that sweet apple cinnamon scent.
The presence of a soulmate had once been more important than his kinks.
But now that she was here and she was real…He couldn't deny the throbbing in his chest, couldn't deny the dreams of her tears, of her shivering pain that could escalate into beautiful utter submission. The truth was he liked it when she begged and cried, he liked it when she was scared, but oh so trusting. He liked it when she came apart under his fucking control.
He was torturing himself, burning his cock alive with his inability to decide whether or not to tell her the truth. But Casper wanted to be sure, he needed to be careful. This was after all, his future wife. And no matter what he wouldn't break his family apart just because his dick needed more than just a dip into heaven. He couldn't throw it all away just because he was being selfish. He blew out a low breath, eyes closing as he sat down upon the counter.
He wanted to break her.
He wanted to fuck her so hard that she felt the pain before she felt the pleasure. He wanted to make her come so many times that she would cry from overstimulation and beg him to stop. He wanted her pussy gaping and fluttering from his cock, raw and exposed. He wanted to clamp her nipples and play with them until they were red, hard and swollen tips. He wanted to tie her up, put her in his room for hours and push her to her fucking limits. He wanted to spank her fucking ass—
"Casper?" Her sweet voice jostled him from his fantasy and he stood, eyes widening as the need to be rational settled in. The voices of his family drifting through his ears as he stood. You're better than them Casper. You're better than this. You are the face of our family; you are our son. And you can't be imperfect. You can't.
"My love," he murmured, coy and velvety as he stood from his seat to brush his lips over her cheeks, breathing in her scent deeply. It calmed him down, these simple familiar actions that never ghosted pass the line of immorality. Just as how holding her in his arms was enough for him. Just as how kissing her and playing with her breasts were usually all he ever asked for in bed.
It was enough for him.
Her eyes fluttered, darting to his as questions blossomed in their depths along with the kaleidoscope of colours from their soul bond. Their connection was evident in the colours that flickered in their eyes but it never escaped its jail cell. Colours that did not blossom when his skin touched hers, colours that did not appear when her bare feet brushed upon the tiles.
And it wasn't her fault but his.
He pulled back before their lips could touch with a soft smile, stilling his heart with a careful hand.
"Stay here and rest, my dear," he said softly, fingers curving over the dip of her jaw, it lingered upon her neck, skin that he longed to squeeze—He pulled away with a gentle, gentle smile, calm, matured, stoic. He admired the way her eyelashes fanned across her cheeks as she blinked up at him, confused. "I'll do the cleaning tonight."
Oh, how he would love to fuck her throat and stuff her full until she choked and splattered, dig himself so deep in her until her lips were pressed tight against his skin, and each breath was a slobbering, sopping mess of desperate swallows over his thick, hardening flesh.
Her eyes widened and her brows dipped, he could see the bewilderment, the flicker of rejection, that need to please him. His smile widened, and he soothed her with an affectionate brush of his thumb over her lower lip, a lingering touch that made those beautiful rosebuds part into a soft gentle 'o'. Then the resulting flush of redness that sent a shiver over her skin, one that echoed across his own and lingered straight to his straining cock. And then he turned to leave, walking out from the bubble of happiness and into the safety of darkness.
He slammed his head against the wall. His attempt to push the thoughts out of his head, but they continued to flow and spill into the crevices of his mind, filling him with great shuddering desire so potent that it grew increasingly harder to breathe.
He would love to tie her up and spank her hard, to pump her body so full with fear that tears flowed and endorphins peaked and bellowed from her body. Until her mind entered a headspace where all she could think about was him and only him. Until she relinquished everything to him in the ultimate form of trust. The pump of endorphins from pleasure and fear was a rush that one could get addicted to, only if they were willing to try. And not many would be willing to try such things, especially when it seemed to come from the depths of sin.
Casper rose and tugged at his pants, pushing his hard cock to the corner of his thigh so that it wouldn't stick out and then he continued with the chores. His grip tightening over the mop and his muscles flexing as he dragged it across the floor with angry splats. Each push and pull resulted in an angry sharp shrill scream of friction. He would take a cold shower later, and then masturbate to thoughts of her, but for now he would release all that steam upon the floor.
He wanted her hanging from his wall, tied upon his bed. He wanted her splayed upon a cross, beautiful pink pussy parted to reveal glistening dew that dripped and trickled down creamy thighs. He wanted her—
Oliver stood leaning against the wall when he was finally done with cleaning. The look in his eyes told Casper everything he needed to know about what the older male wanted to talk about. Jesus fucking Christ he didn't need a fucking pep talk. Casper cursed, shaking his head an attempted to leave. But Oliver caught his wrist with a firm grip that tightened and pulled.
"The sexual tension between the two of you was so thick that I can practically swim in it."
Casper sighed giving him a look as he pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyance burning in his chest. He could hear the muffled laughter from the other side of the room from his team, and then the soft chuckles from his soulmate. And it did nothing to the anger that was beginning to froth and overflow.
"What do you want me to do?" Casper snapped out through gritted teeth. He didn't like showing others this side of him, the imperfect side. The side that bit and scratched, the side that was hot-headed and raw. This was also the side that loved the rough, filthy darkness of good dangerous fucking.
"Tell her!" Oliver hissed, mouth curving into a thin heavy line so different from the perpetual smile that usually stayed plastered to his lips. "Or if you're not telling her I'm telling her about mine." The last bit came out in an angry grit that tore at his nerves and Casper growled.
"What? If she knows about yours, we might as well tell her everything!"
"Exactly."
The defiant look was a breather in their mini round of wrestling. Casper sighed, rubbing his temples as he closed his eyes picturing scenic lakes and calming waters in his head. Methods that had been imparted to him since his youth, he schooled his features, dragging the negativity back into its cage.
"She's not ready Liv, I told you I've been looking at her—"
"They told us that if she found out about our kinks they would lose. You heard them say it at the restaurant loud and fucking clear." Oliver protested; the plea bright in his quivering eyes.
Casper had forgotten than unlike him Oliver was weaker to pleasure, weaker to the marvellous warmth of a sated soul bond. And once he'd tasted heaven, he wanted more of it. More than just the simple kisses and the sweetness that overflowed in flowery, sugary goodness. He wanted everything, he wanted acceptance, he wanted fulfilment, but at what cost?
"They know her better in bed, and if they're not stopping us than why are we even doing this? We should just—"
"What do you want? Give it to her on a list? Send her an email? Make her sign a disclosure contract?" He growled, pulling his arm out of his grip with a low hushed snap. His straining cock, hard and begging for a release was getting to his head. "You of all people know, that once we share this there's no going back. There's no fucking reset."
"Of course, I know that!" Oliver's eyes flashed with irritation, and Casper could see the anger tight in his jaw. It was rare that they got angry, but when they did it usually didn't go down well. "What the fuck is your problem?"
Casper shook his head, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He couldn't fight over this. It would draw attention to them, there would be questions. Questions that could result in answers. Their soulmate was smart, sometimes too smart. He turned to look at his best friend with a steadied, careful gaze. "Look Liv…This is our soulmate we're talking about. This is not the same as our games."
"I thought you've forgotten them," the older male snorted, rolling his eyes, "you pretended it didn't exist. You ignored me for weeks."
"I apologise."
How else could he have faced that period of his life when he'd embraced sin? This was a side of him that he longed to ignore, that he longed to delete. And he tried, he really tried, but the thoughts continued to enter his head. And his cock continued to salivate for more.
"She's our soulmate, and that is precisely why we need to tell her and I am going to do something about this." Oliver glared. "No matter what the fuck you say, I am going to fucking tell her." The resolution was clear in his eyes and Casper knew there was no use trying to convince him. He fumbled, searching in his head for answers to this miniscule problem that he had to solve.
"No," Casper shook his head, "there's too much at stake." His eyes narrowed into slits. He would throw Oliver a bait, one that he was sure would fail the moment red flags were raised and her kinks were crossed. "Let's test her."
It was just another fucking day in his life of sexual lies.