All good things must come to an end.
George is trying to hold his world together, but it’s crumbling and he doesn’t know who he’s even fighting anymore. All the people he loves are suffering because of him.
Jesse is shattering because he can’t provide what George needs.
Elliot is broken perhaps beyond repair.
Zac is ruined by his own doing and isn’t fit to be what Elliot needs him to be.
There is no soothing light at the end of this tunnel. The reckoning is coming and not even George can protect them from the monster of his past. They are splintering, trying to avoid the flames, but they must come together or become ashes.
George picked up the container of sterile needles he’d been saving so Jesse could see them. “This will be a little like a tattoo.”
“Oh God. You’re so close to my dick.”
“If you hold perfectly still there is a good chance none will even come close to your cock, unless of course you want me to pierce it for you.”
Jesse picked up his head. “Can you do that?”
He pursed his lips. “I’m going to think about that one.”
“Don’t think on it too long.”
“Why not?” Jesse laid his head back down and let his arms go limp.
“Because if I don’t get an answer, I’m going to assume you approve.”
Jesse’s eyes shot back open. “You know what they say about assuming?”
“That it’s a perfectly acceptable thing for a dominant to do when his submissive is gagged?”
“But I’m not gagged…”
“You easily can be.” George pulled the pink ball gag halfway out of his pocket so Jesse could see it.
“I think I’ll wait on the piercing until we both discuss the pros and cons, Sir,” Jesse said as politely as George had ever heard come out of his mouth.
“Acceptable,” George said as he pushed the first needle into the tender skin on Jesse’s inner thigh.
“Holy fuck. Getting a tattoo there would be a whole lot different than on my neck.”
“If you can make it to fifty needles there will be a reward.”
“God help me.”
“You’re going to need it.”
When not staying up all night writing, J.R. Gray can be found at the gym where it’s half assumed he is a permanent resident to fulfill his self-inflicted masochism. A dominant and a pilot, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. He frequently interrupts real life, including normal sleep patterns and conversations, to jot down notes or plot bunnies. Commas are the bane of his existence even though it’s been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they continue to baffle and bewilder. If Gray wasn’t writing…well, that’s not possible. The buildup of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave, insanity or both. The idea of haunting has always appealed to him. J.R. Gray is genderqueer and prefers he/him pronouns.
Buy the book: jrgraybooks.com/capital-offense/