Axel Takes Control

I watched them from across the floor. Jordan, dancing with him. Axel. My rival. My threat. My fuel. His hands were on her hips. His body pressed against hers like they belonged together. And maybe they did. She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled.

God, she was sexy. They both were. And they looked so hot together. Like fire and ice.

Every movement between them felt like a slap. I felt I was watching someone else living my life. Jordan, laughing, her body pressed to his. Axel's muscular hands on her hips, like he was claiming her. And yet, here I was, frozen in place. Cock rising, heart aching with something I couldn't name.

She looked over at me with eyes heavy with lust. The look wasn't an apology. It wasn't cruelty. It was something else. She was asking for permission. Permission to do what I already knew was coming. Deep inside I wanted her to go further. It tore me up inside and I hated that it made me hard, but I wanted this and I couldn't stop watching.

So I watched them move together. And even though every part of me screamed, and part of me wanted to go pull her away, to grab her hand and walk out, another stronger part of me, the side that won out, wanted to stay. I wanted to see how far she would go. I wanted to watch.

A few minutes later, someone stepped up beside me. Not Axel. He was a short, thick man in a sharp black suit, wearing a black tee shirt and a spiked dog collar under a black designer sports coat. It was a look, not costume. Gold ring. Tidy beard. His gold-rimmed glasses glinted under the red lights as he looked me over, appraising me like I was for sale.

"Tyler Cruz," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah."

"Dom Sinclair," he said, flashing a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Senior booker for the Alliance."

I straightened on instinct. "Nice to meet you, sir."

He chuckled. "Don't call me sir unless you want to be collared by next week," he said, eyeing me up and down as I froze.

He followed my gaze to Jordan and Axel, still moving together on the floor.

"You've got something," he said. "The look. The energy. But more than that..." He paused, swirling the drink in his hand. "The story."

"What story?"

"That little triangle you're living right now?" He motioned with his glass. "Rookie face. Dominant heel. The girl caught in the middle. That's heat. That's money."

I didn't answer.

Dom leaned in slightly, voice lower now. "Be a good boy and let him take the two of you home tonight. See what she does. Let her watch you. Let it get messy."

He clinked his glass against mine. "Lean into it."

Then he was gone. Back into the crowd like he'd never been there.

I stood there, sweating through my shirt, cock already straining behind my zipper, watching Axel's hands trail down Jordan's sides. Watching her lean in and laugh at something he said.

She looked at me again. This time, she didn't smile. She smirked.

I don't remember deciding to move. I just felt myself pushing through the bodies, music pounding through my chest, heat rising in my neck. Axel saw me coming. His arm was already around her waist. She was flushed and watching me but it didn't stop her from soaking in his contact, He just stood, impassive.

Then he smiled. Wolfishly. Like he'd been waiting.

The car was black leather and low lighting, the kind of vehicle that came with its own silence. Axel took the middle seat without asking. Jordan slid in next to him, thigh brushing his. I followed, pressed in on his other side.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

The air was thick. Hot. Not quite awkward, but charged. Like the second before lightning.

Axel let one arm rest behind Jordan, fingers stroking lightly at her hair. The other moved behind me, warm along the back of my neck, hovering just close enough to feel.

Then he touched me. Just the barest pressure, seeing how much I'd allow.

I looked over. His eyes were already on mine. His gaze wasn't angry or commanding. It was as if he had a deep understanding that saw through me. I could almost feel him thinking, plotting. Like he knew exactly how far to push before I would break. It was enough to keep me in place.

And, when his eyes flicked to Jordan, there was something unspoken between them. A bond between predator and prey. A quiet command she wanted to follow. As much as it pains me to admit, she wasn't the only one giving herself to him. I was, too. Not just in my body. He had me exactly where he wanted me. Watching him control her. Wanting them both. Powerless to stop it.

"Comfortable?" he asked.

Jordan didn't say a word, but I felt her watching me, waiting. Curious, Hot.

"Sure," I said. My voice came out thin, breathless.

Axel's fingers pulled away from my neck, a faint heat trailing in their wake. His scent--musky, leather, and something sharper--seeped into the small space between us, as he reached around to touch Jordan..

The pressure in my chest thickening with each passing second. Jordan's body pressed into Axel's as he settled in with her, the heat of their closeness almost suffocating. My palms were clammy, heart thumping louder than the bass of the music back at the club. He looked back and said "You will be."

Axel's fingers lightly traced Jordan's hair, his touch slow, deliberate--like he was marking her. His eyes never left hers as he moved closer, but Jordan didn't shy away. Instead, she leaned into him, her breath soft but steady, like she wanted what he wanted, but more so. And then she kissed him--briefly, but there was something in it. Soft, deliberate, a claim of her own, but one that somehow bent to him."

"She pulled back, just enough to catch my eyes. Her lips were wet, and I saw it--the way her pupils dilated, the way her breath quickened as if she didn't even need to look at me anymore. She wasn't apologizing. She wasn't asking for permission. She was letting me know she was choosing this. Choosing him. And Axel? He didn't need to say a word. His hand was already at her neck, guiding her, pulling her closer to him, showing her, without a word, that she was his.

Jordan's breath caught when Axel leaned in. She melted into him. Her lips softened, her body inviting him to take what he wanted as she pressed herself into to him. Her fingers grazed his chest wistfully as she pulled back. Whenher eyes met mine for the briefest moment, something vulnerable flickered there, like she was surprised, but it was also gone before I could fully grasp it.

She didn't seem to plan it when she leaned in and kissed him again. The moment offered itself and she accepted. She wasn't pretending. She was leaning into this like she was already his.

And in that moment, something in me cracked open.

I saw their kissing for what it was: A beginning, Axel had one hand cupped the back of her neck while the other ran along the sides of her dress from her hips to her abs to her shoulders and breasts,

He was showing all of us who was in charge. After that, Jordan didn't fight it anymore. With each touch, with each look, each kiss Axel gave her, her body, responded without hesitation.

Every second felt like a punch to my gut. Jordan, the love of my life, melted into Axel's arms like she belonged to him. I felt like a spectator. And the worst part? I couldn't look away. Part of me wanted to shout, to pull her away. But the other part of me? The part I was trying to ignore? I wanted to stay. To see just how far she'd let him take it.

Axel's gaze flicked briefly to me, as if I were a distraction, a piece of scenery in his little show. The words were casual, but the weight behind them was clear. 'You'll get your turn pretty boy,' he said. And that was all. He didn't need to explain. His command had been issued, and I could feel the heaviness of it, even in the silence that followed

Afterwards, every shift of Axel's weight against me, seeing Jordan's heavy breasts press against him, her every sigh, his every growl, felt like a command, an order. I was right there with them--so close, but utterly apart.

The weight of their shared intimacy was overwhelming. When we pulled up outside the building, I climbed out first and came around to open their door. Jordan stepped out. Her fingers brushed mine. Then Axel climbed out.

And he held out his hand.

Jordan took it.

And then, slowly, I followed the two of them into the building, heart pounding.

The loft door clicked shut behind us like a lock. We entered into a tasteful but spartan living area with an island kitchen and Axel quickly led us to the only bedroom. The suite was dark and expensive. Crimson velvet walls. Gilded trim. Black leather furniture. But none of it felt soft. This wasn't a room for comfort. It was a room meant for surrender.

Jordan moved first, always elegant. She stepped toward the bed and shrugged her jacket off her shoulders. It fell like water to the floor. Underneath, she wore black lace. Barely a bralette. Her nipples were already hard against the fabric.

She wasn't looking at me. She was looking at him.

Axel peeled off his shirt slowly. Deliberately. His body was a weapon. All 6'5, 280 pounds of him. He had a hairy chest, wide and thick, arms like pillars. His abs were cut in a way that looked almost inhuman. The effect on Jordan was not lost on me.

He let the shirt fall. Then stepped toward her.

He didn't kiss her like a date. He claimed her like a prize. One hand cupped the back of her neck. The other gripped her ass, pulling her into him, making her supple, body yield against him as his mouth crashed over hers.

She gasped. Not in protest. In surprise. And then she melted.

I stood in the doorway, still, almost afraid to move, as if any motion would make the situation more real. Jordan was already undressing. I had never seen this side of her. With me she was playful, endearing, sometimes demanding. But with him, she surrendered completely.

I should have walked away. I should have turned and left before it went this far. But I couldn't. Not when every part of me was still pulled to her. To them. Even though it crushed me to see her with him, I was slave to this game. My cock was hard. I didn't know if it was for her, for him or for the twisted feelings roiling inside of me. I wasn't in control anymore. I wasn't even pretending to be.

Their moans filled the room, quiet but charged. He backed her toward the bed and spun her with easy strength, picking her up and kissing her then setting her on her knees in front of him.

Jordan was breathless and totally responsive. He didn't ask. He didn't need to. She didn't resist. She wanted to be ruined.

Axel? He was the one directing the show.

And me? I wanted to see it happen. I wasn't her partner in that moment, I was her audience. Their audience.

"You've been thinking about this, haven't you?" he asked her, smirking.

"God yes," she relied. "Since you first walked in." She caught my reaction and winced. A little.

He let his pants drop. Jordan's eyes popped and she smiled before looking at me like the Cheshire car. My chest seized up.

He was heavy. Thick. Only half-hard, but already intimidating.

My cock throbbed. Jordan reached for him. He caught her wrist.

"Ask."

She blinked. Then smiled. "Please let me taste you." He made her ask because he could. And the way she asked: soft, sure, and eager, told me she wanted it that way.

He let her. Of course he let did. She kissed the tip of his cock first. Slow and reverent. Then again, mouth parting, tongue circling. He groaned above her, low and approving.

I couldn't breathe. I backed into the wall and slid to the floor. My cock straining. Leaking. My mouth hung open as her lips slid further down his shaft, slow and hungry.

Axel grabbed a fistful of her hair. Not rough. Not angry. Just ownership. He guided her. Let her worship.

"Good girl," he growled.

She moaned around him.

And I sucked in a breath so sharp it made my vision blur. They hadn't even looked at me. But I was there. Hard. Silent. Useless.

Until Axel looked down.

"Get him up here," he said.

Jordan turned her head and looked at me. Her lips were slick with saliva. Her eyes full of heat. "Ty baby," she said softly. "Come here."

I crawled forward on shaky hands and knees.

Jordan watched me the whole time. Her hand slid down his thigh, then paused between his legs as she coaxed me to them. She was soaked. I could smell her desire see it through the lace of her panties.

Axel's cock pulsed in front of me. She took my hand and guided me to it, wrapping my fingers around the base.

He was hot. Veined. Heavy with power.

"You know what I want to see," she said. "Show me you're into this." Be mommy's good boy.

I lowered my head. Opened my mouth. And licked slowly up the side of him.

From base to tip. My tongue circled the head. I heard him grunt. He placed his hand at the back of my head. Not forcing. Just guiding. "Fuuuck," he bellowed.

My mouth moved on instinct. There was no thought behind it. No control. Just obedience. Each motion felt like a surrender at his hands. I was giving in to him. Letting myself vanish into the space beneath their coupling, where my desires didn't matter--only theirs did

I took more of him into my mouth.

My knees ached. My jaw trembled.

But I didn't stop.

My heart skipped a beat and my cock jumped when Axel groaned. "Oh, you are a fucking good boy. Baby, did you know your boy was such a good cocksucker?"

Jordan didn't answer. I heard her gasp, then sigh as I watched his fingers enter her as he toyed her clit with his thumb, I felt her fingers tangle into my hair beside his. Her nails scratched gently against my scalp.

And then I heard it. Their lips meeting above me. They were making out and he was fingering her. While I was on my knees taking his huge cock in my mouth. I was a prop servicing him while they made out like I wasn't even there.

I was torn up with humiliation, jealousy and lust. And somehow, that only made me harder.

I slowed, licking now instead of sucking. Worship instead of hunger.

I didn't know who I was doing it for.

Jordan? Axel?

I didn't know who I was to them anymore. The boyfriend. The third. The plaything. Maybe all of them. Maybe none. I didn't know what it meant to let them use me like this. But I do know I felt a surge of pride when Axel finally pulled away. His cock glistening and called me a "Good boy." In that sexy strong voice of his.

Jordan was wide eyed when he pulled me up and kissed me. His kiss was different than a woman's. Strong, demanding. I moaned in surrender as his tongue forced its way into my mouth while Jordan watched, shocked but totally turned on judging by how fast her fingers were working her clit.

Then he kissed Jordan again, slow and deep, She whined in frustration as he took her hand away from her clit and held it behind her back before letting her go.

I knelt, trembling. His precum in my mouth, lips tingling.

Axel's cock hung in front of me, thick and flushed. He looked at me and grinned evilly. "This is going to be so much fun, pretty boy, at least for me."

Jordan was standing there, hand back between her legs, moaning softly.

"Come with me," Axel said to her.

She looked at me. I thought she might hesitate. But she didn't. She wanted him to use her. And she wanted me to watch.

Axel told her to lie back on the bed. She did.

He climbed between her legs.

"Already wet for me?" he asked, voice low.

She whimpered and nodded.

He kissed her throat, her mouth, her breasts.

I reached for my waistband.

"Stop," Axel said sharply.

I froze. He was looking at me.

"You don't touch a thing unless I say. Not yourself, not her, not me. Got it?"

I sstayed silent but I dropped my hand. I was obedient. I was wrecked. I didn't want to know what that said about me.

Jordan's eyes were wide as she watched him put me in my place. She gasped as his fingers slid between her thighs. She arched up into his touch.

He whispered something to her. She laughed, breathless, and looked guilty towards me. Then he turned his head and looked at me.

"She's dripping for me, pretty boy. And you're going to sit outside and listen while I break her in."

He put his mouth back to Jordan's ear and she lifted her hips up so he could slide them off. Jordan's panties. Thin. Black. Still warm. Glistening.

He walked over to me and dropped them in my lap. Jordan looked like she was loving this.

"Here," he said. "A souvenir."

I reached down and picked them up. The silk and lace fabric sticky and wet between my fingers. I should've dropped them. But I couldn't let go. They felt absurdly small in my hand, delicate, soft. The aroma on them was strong and smelled of her with a hint of him.

Maybe I should've felt angry. The silk and lace fabric sticky and wet between my fingers. The scent--sweat, sex, her--filled my lungs. It felt strange, almost wrong, but I couldn't let go. I wanted this. And I wanted to feel as though I was involved, connected to them, even if it was in the sickest, most twisted way.

"Get out. Go into the living room," Axel said. "Leave the door open and be quiet. Maybe I'll let you watch next time."

Jordan melted into him as I walked out and disappeared into the next room, leaving them behind me. I heard Jordan laugh softly at something he said as he pulled her into his arms.

I left the door open halfway. I could hear everything. Everything and nothing.

Whispers. Gasps. The creak of the bed. Skin on skin. Jordan's voice breaking. Her moaning and long whines as she came again and again. Axel's growls, low and relentless.

I knelt there, still hard, panties clenched in my fist, each breath shallow. The sounds of them.: Every moan from Jordan, every growl from Axel. The whispers I couldn't quite hear cut through me like a cold wind or crashed against me like waves.

I was wrecked. I was stuck in a delicious sick and twisted place between longing and fear. Everything that happened felt like it was pushing me through a door. I was still hard, still aching. I couldn't fully process the feelings. I felt like I didn't even know who I was anymore.

And then, after what seemed like an eternity of cries, groans, moans and what seemed like several orgasms, Jordan's voice floated back through the crack in the door, soft and final. 'Go home, Ty.'

The words sliced through me like glass. Go home? Was that what I was supposed to do? Walk away?

I wanted to argue. I wanted to shout. To demand to be a part of whatever the hell was happening. I wanted to scream and make her take it back. But my voice caught in my throat. I didn't move. What was I even fighting for?

The silence that followed felt suffocating. A part of me wanted to barge in and fight for her. To pretend I wasn't so broken as to be this turned on. But another part of me knew I craved this like a moth to flame. So. I stood there, legs weak, heart pounding.

Then a single sharp smack. Then another. Then another, followed by the sound of her surrender. "Go home, dickwad." Axel said through the door.

It broke me out of my trance. I didn't say goodbye. I just left. Still hard. Still aching. Her panties in my pocket.