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Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

SYNOPSIS

Valentine Alfa is a closeted gay. He has been crushing on Sean Burn for years. The problem is that he is very much engaged to a woman while Sean is with someone else—a super hunk, young model. He believes the model is taking advantage of Sean that’s why Valentine decided to save Sean from a bad relationship. To snatch him away. To make him his. All he needs to do is to break their relationship.

Sean Burn is ambitious and flighty that carries a deep hollow in his chest. When he met Dominic, he discovered that the man perfectly fits to the chasm in his heart. He believes they are matched made in heaven—or perhaps hell would aptly describe their relationship. Nevertheless, he resolves to stay steadfast and hold onto Dominic. The man is his and he won’t allow anyone to take Dominic away from him.

Dominic is a lost soul. He struggles to find purpose to his life which Sean Burn showed for him—or at least that’s what he thought. But living with the man proves not just a challenge but it gives him despair and loneliness as well. He craves freedom. He craves life. He wants out, leave everything behind. Yet, the invisible shackles around his wrists and ankles have left their lasting impression that cut through his skin, so deep that it anchored to his heart. He is a caged bird that’s slowly dying inside-out.

“Are you out of your mind? People can still see us here!” I growl, tempted to smack his face to stop his attempts to groping my crotch but I control the urge.

“Just a quickie, Dominic.” Sean croons, licking his lips like an addict wanting a sniff as he watches his hand going inside my now open fly.

He looks up to me, grinning like a loon before tiptoeing to seek for a kiss. I quickly jerk my face away, avoiding his lips. His mouth lands noisily on my jaw instead, leaving saliva on my skin. I wipe the damn drool with the back of my hand, hating it so much.

I don’t like kissing. For me, that is something special only done with an equally special person. I can kiss other places but not the lips. As much as possible, I avoid that intimacy with whoever I fu¢k and Sean sure is not the person I enjoy doing it with.

“Let’s not do it here. At least give my di¢k some respect by taking it out in private!” I hiss when Sean just whips it out of my pants and starts rubbing it with his expert hands.

I look around the venue for the Alfa’s and Larsson’s engagement announcement. The place is bathed with colorful flowers, emitting sweet, floral scent into the air. Carpet, candles, chandelier, and wrought iron chairs are all set in an outdoor event—such lavish preparations for something so trivial. I don’t even believe the couple is in love.

Everything and everywhere I look broadcasts how wealthy the families are—at least the Alfa is. I am not sure of the woman’s status though. I honestly haven’t heard about her before tonight but I am sure she must be of money, too. And the people present are either from the higher echelon or big stars in the movie industry.

I shouldn’t be here because I am far too small of fry to be attending such a lucrative party. But a week before the event, Sean received an invitation straight from the bridegroom’s assistant himself. I can’t decide whether that was luck or not. Nevertheless, I don’t like being here nor do I want to be part of this crowd.

We are fairly early for the event and Sean immediately pulled me into hiding behind one of the large stone banisters then started harassing me with kisses and groping my body. The place may be deserted for now but I know soon enough people will start arriving and filling up the venue.

And with Sean’s track record, I know he is not just going for a quickie. He takes his time in $ex no matter where or what the occasion is. No matter if we are concealed enough or get caught by someone. It doesn’t matter to him as long as he is being fu¢ked and is enjoying it. He is selfish like that.

That is one of the reasons why I hate him. I hate Sean with passion but he has me tied down like an obedient dog. He is obsessed with me yet my lack of response to his feelings makes him hate me just as much. In truth, I wanted to be free from this—free from him. But this had been our covenant—our prison.

“Let’s get to the comfort room.” I grit out, pushing him away and putting my co¢k back into my pants.

I stride fast into the comfort rooms I spotted earlier, knowing full well this will happen if I am with Sean. He likes $ex and he likes it better with risqué, something I don’t understand nor enjoy. Once inside the stall and the locks are secured, I shove Sean against the closed door and force him to bend over.

“Get that fu¢khole out!”

“Oh, Dom! You’re so rough, I like it!” Sean purrs, doing as I told, and shimmies his slacks down his knees including his briefs.

I close my eyes for a brief moment, thinking about something $exual and enticing for me to have my di¢k springing alive. Once I got a reaction to my groin, I unzip my pants, take out my half-mast co¢k and fit in a ¢ondom I always carry in my wallet just for this kind of occasion.

I give myself a few strokes and tugs then spit into Sean’s a$s with skilled trajectory, hitting exactly his not-so-tight-anymore hole before shoving right into his a$s. Sean’s body slams hard against the closed door from the force of my thru$t and he caterwauls like a damn feline.

My hips start moving rhythmically but Sean pushes back with my every pump—enticing me, egging me to go faster, deeper, and rougher. But I couldn’t be bothered by his silent request. I just pump into him lackadaisically, almost lifelessly. After all, I am not in the mood and my co¢k is not even so hard.

If anything, what I am doing right now is just like a routine. A task to be completed which I can do even in sleep. $ex with Sean has become perfunctory. There is no passion, no feelings, no nothing—just something to be done with and fast. But fast is what Sean likes and I don’t want to give him it.

“Dom, do it better!” Sean finally voices out what he wants. “Fu¢k me good, Dom!”

I did not answer and continue the slow drawn-out pumps of my hips. He is forcing me to do this then he better suffers the consequences of not enjoying it. I spread my arms and brace myself against the bathroom wall, preventing any more contact other than my co¢k to his hole.

“Monique! Fu¢k me harder!” Sean growls over his shoulder.

I grit my teeth, my eyes burning with fury. He always does this. When he wants something from me which I refuse to give, he would provoke me by calling me that name. He knows how weak I am when it comes to that name and he also knows it will break my resolve.

Growling, I pitch my pelvis, driving into him deeper and gaining a little speed into my thru$ts. Sean resumes moaning and chanting lewd curses and vulgar words he thinks might entice me more. But he couldn’t be more wrong. I don’t get off with licentious words, not from him, at least. That is not my fetish.

“Jack off!” I growl, wanting this to end once and for all.

Thankfully, Sean is blessedly pliant as he grips his di¢k and starts jërking himself in time with my thru$ts. The room starts feeling overheated, stifling, and suffocating. Sweat makes my tux stuck to my skin and I feel like shrugging off my coat—maybe later after we are done here.

When the hell is he going to come anyway? Taking out my phone, I check the time and mentally estimate that we have been here for fifteen minutes already. I shove my phone back into my pocket and put more force into my pumps, pounding into him hard and fast.

“Oh, yes! Right there! Oh, fu¢k! Hmm, oh you’re so big, Dom! I love your co¢k! Fu¢k me! Wreck me!”

Shut up! I want to yell but opt to just bite my tongue and concentrate on fu¢king his a$s. Once I feel him tightening up around me, I heave a relieved sigh. Sean’s body soon trembles and his lewd words shrink away, making only incoherent blabbers and deep groans as he ¢limaxes.

I quickly withdraw my co¢k then pull wads of tissue from the dispenser to use to pull out and wrap the ¢ondom with before tossing it into the bin. After making sure I have my di¢k in and my clothes fixed, I open the door and step out of the stall to wash my hands in the sink, leaving Sean to his own devices.

“Wait for me!” Sean says after stepping beside me to wash his hands as well.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” I say, turning to the door and leave.

From the short time we were away, people have amassed in the venue, huddled in groups while others choose to be left with their date. From the corner of my eye, I catch glimpse of Valentine Alfa talking to men known in the business world.

While they seem to be engaged in an intimate conversation, there is an apparent distance he puts himself from the other men. Rumors say Valentine is a germaphobe—a claim I would never buy. I think the guy has issues, deep serious ones but not germaphobe because I could testify how able he is to get down and dirty when need be.

As though feeling my stare on him, Valentine turns his head and meets my gaze. As usual, I am always caught amused and irritated watching his expression changing at the sight of me. No, wait. That was wrong to put it. Rather, the expression he always makes when Sean is around.

Valentine thinks whenever I am around so does Sean and vice versa. So there is no surprise there when his eyes light up in excitement at the sight of me. As expected, Valentine’s gaze darts from side to side, obviously seeking for Sean—an instinctual behavior he does in his presence.

Even without anyone telling me, I quickly noticed his actions and understood the reason behind it after a few observations. Besides, the guy couldn’t be more obvious. That Valentine Alfa, the bridegroom of tonight’s engagement, is attracted to Sean Burn. Yes, the man is gay and he covets what people thought is mine.

Seeing as Sean has not come out of the comfort room, Valentine’s expression visibly changes into disappointment, pouting dejectedly like a child who has been denied of his wishes. I snort, fisting my hand over my lips to cover my sneer. Although cute, that Valentine Alfa is hopeless and he doesn’t know it.

I clear my throat and banish my smile with a scowl. What the hell am I grinning for? I should be angry at the man. He is just the same as Sean, after all—people who use money to get what they want, even buying people around for $exual pleasure then discarding them like trash.

Rumors say, despite his voracious appetite, Valentine Alfa is picky to his $exual partners. Once he decided to pick you up, however, you would be in for a great time because he was said to be a great lover in bed. Those who have been with him said he is generous to both money and pleasure.

Well, I don’t know if I could agree to all those claims. It is both true yet not at the same time. After all, I was one of those few people he has taken to bed with. The only difference between Sean and Valentine, I was the bottom when Valentine forced his way on me—a fact that nary a soul knows.

I picked him up one fateful night in the street. Or was it he who picked me up? I wasn’t sure anymore but what was certain was we both consented to do it: he wanted to fu¢k while I badly needed money although I eventually chickened out after arriving at the hotel.

Valentine didn’t want to take no for an answer, however, and ended up forcing me instead. I had been a v¡rgin and it hurt like a son of the bit¢h. He fu¢ked me so hard and raw while calling me honey then carelessly coming inside me. It was the most horrible experience I ever had!

Well, the fact that he su¢ked me good and paid me better money in the end might be the only redeeming quality of that meeting. After leaving him with a shiner, I forced myself to forget all about it but swore to never forgive the bastard who did it no matter how good looking he was.

Imagine my surprise crossing paths with him again months after I started my modeling job in the city. He was one of the guests on the runway show I participated in. That was when I found out what his name was: Valentine Alfa, one of the recognized names in the business world.

Although his title as VP to the Marketing department is not so catchy, the fact that he is an heir and next in line to be CEO of the Alfa Corp, one of the biggest companies in the country, was what blew my mind off. I had $ex with Valentine Alfa although I hate to admit it was more like räpe to me.

I swore I hated him but after knowing his reputation and power, I ended up feeling privileged to have bedded him instead. How sick was that, huh? And what is even worse? The guy had forgotten about me, the blunder he did and the night we shared. That psycho bastard!

Even to this day, I still dreaded remembering that night with him. But infuriatingly so, it is also the only thing that ärouses me with which I use as a mental image whenever Sean wanted to have $ex or if he sends me to clients to secure new projects.

In my mind, I had $ex with Valentine so many times, all the time. To put it simply, I imagine Valentine Alfa to get hard and get off, and $ex is always guaranteed to be satisfying no matter who my partner is.

“It’s starting.” I could faintly read Sean’s lips telling the man beside him who was rumored as his boyfriend.

No, the ceremony hasn’t commenced. Just the band we hired starts playing a love song that pulls the people’s attention to the stage, focused on the couple—I, Valentine, and my fiancée Irish. Everything is set in a dream-like wedding venue with blooming flowers, colorful and fragrant, decorating almost the entire place.

I roam my eyes to the people gathered below, noting almost the big people in the business industry my father invited are present tonight. But some small fries managed to sneak in the party, grinning and oh-ing at the parade of men and women mostly from higher echelon clad in their expensive gowns and suits.

I look at my right side, the third table in the VIP guests, catching sight of Sean Burn’s wide grin. Sean is not a big name but he is a striving manager to potential talents in the entertainment industry and is doing the right thing if I may say so myself. I invited him myself—well, it was Clint who sent the invitation to be exact.

However, unlike the few small fishes in the crowd, Sean is not smiling in awe of the known people around him. He is smiling because of the man sitting beside him. I don’t know the name but he always brings that guy wherever he goes that was how they were rumored as lovers.

I tilt my head to shake myself out of my useless thoughts, trying to bring my mind to focus on the party and to the woman beside me that is supposed to be my fiancée. I pretend, I acted in love and happy as I gaze at Irish but I still keep finding myself looking at the crowd, seeking Sean and admiring his smiles.

But no dice. Sean is not looking back. I keep meeting the other guy’s gaze instead—the boyfriend with dark skin and piercing green eyes. It is unnerving and irritating that he might know my secret and seems to be gloating that he has what I wanted and probably could never have.

Two years. For two years, I followed Sean with my eyes. My gaze is fixated on him almost instinctively and I am proud that I haven’t been caught. At least, that was what I thought and hoped for. But if my paranoid self were to speak, the boyfriend might have sensed my attraction to Sean.

Ever since knowing Sean, I have noticed the other guy’s presence as well no matter how much I try to dismiss it which was truly hard given the strong commanding presence he naturally exudes. And those eyes. It is difficult to avoid those deep green, penetrating eyes as though he is gouging even my very soul.

I keep catching him staring and sometimes even glaring at me. That was when I realized he knows. He knows I covet his lover and must have known it from the very beginning thus he makes his claim by the daggers he throws my way. Not that I would do something about my attraction though.

I can feel my face twitching in a grimace but I quickly school my expression as I continue to mingle with the guests. I won’t let some green-eyed monster ruin this day although I don’t care much about this event. I straighten my posture when the celebration is about to formally start with my father, Don Ivan Alfa, taking over the mic.

“Valentine Alfa…” Don Ivan pauses and raises his glass. “I’m proud of you, son. I wish you and Irish live a fruitful and happy wedded life together in the future.”

I didn’t react. I couldn’t because I feel like if I toast with my father, I would give up my freedom. Of my happiness. Anxiety makes my heart thunder and my breathing shortening. Am I having another episode? My tux becomes stuffy just as my mind starts screaming at me to run away.

A long stretched silence follows. If one would imagine the heartbeats of the people around are like drum roll prolonging the thrill and suspense. The air becomes stifling and tense, making it a bit comical and entertaining to many spectators. I lick my lips and swallow with difficulty.

From the makeshift stage, I raise my head and rake the crowd past Irish’s small built to find that familiar person I have always been watching all this time. Sweat trickles down my temple as I frantically search from the audience, I could only imagine my face painted with obvious despair.

If I am going to toast to my father, to agree with him for a lifetime with someone, I would only say yes while looking straight to the person I truly care about. My eyes finally settle on the person standing by the third table of the VIP guests and my mouth opens for my speech.

“Yes, thank you, father. I will surely...” I utter solemnly and sincerely without breaking gaze with the man across from me only to frown in confusion when I recognize the wrong guy. “Live a happy life with the one I love.”

Wait, that isn’t Sean! What is that guy doing standing at Sean’s earlier spot? I gasp belatedly at the realization that I somehow spoke, although indirectly, my engagement vow to the wrong person. My jaw falls open just as my eyes widen in shock. Yet, I can’t muster to pull my gaze away quickly.

On the other hand, the dark-skinned man seems to have realized the blunder I did as well because after he blinked rapidly, a shadow of smirk lifts the corner of his lips as though something tickles his mind. I know what happened was a thing of trivial matter but I can’t help feeling as though I just impacted something in the future.

***

“Did you take the pills already?” Irish asks with a tilted head, staring at my flat crotch.

“Yes.” I grit out in reply, trying so hard to stay calm for the thing we are about to perform.

“Given your hatred towards me, I could understand it if you can’t get it up for me. But to think that you’re an impotent ba$tard is just so sad. Not just that, but you’re also pining over a man for a long time. Don’t you think it’s useless when he can’t even pleasure you?”

“Are you done?” I snap to my supposed fiancée. “You’re making it all the more difficult to get hard with all your blabbering. Why don’t we just proceed with what I previously proposed? Let’s have an in vitro procedure!”

“No! As your wife, I at least have the right to feel the heat of your body even just this once. So let me enjoy it and make it memorable enough to last me for a lifetime.”

This bit¢h is not even my wife yet since we were only engaged not wedded but she is starting to exercise her dominance over me. If not for my father pestering me to give him an heir even though I have issues about physical touch, I would never endure this kind of humiliation, and dare I say frightening activity.

Since young, I have been trained and groomed to be the next heir to Alfa Corp and all its wealth. Marrying and having a child or children are also some of the things that are expected of me to continue our lineage. And Irish is the woman my late mother picked amongst all the candidates to carry them.

“Just remember, Val, this is your duty.” Irish reminds me unnecessarily, stepping out of the bathroom door before slowly pushing off the robe from her bony shoulders. “I know how much you must be dreading doing this to me, much more to a woman, but you can’t escape this anymore.”

The bathrobe dramatically flutters down Irish’s frame before it silently pools around her ankles, revealing to me her shining and a little damp nüdity. She has a pair of perfectly done brea$ts, so perfect they could pass as natural. Her waist is too thin her ribs are even protruding.

Irish’s hips, at least, flare naturally wide as though announcing that she is ready for childbearing although it still gives me nothing. I feel nothing at all, something I can’t decide whether to be thankful or disappointed. I have taken double the dosage of both anxiety pill and aphrodisiac just to make things work with Irish.

However, the drugs seem to have not yet taken effect because there hasn’t been any reaction to my southern body. At least the anxiety pill has considerably calmed my nerves down. I don’t feel the familiar repulsion and panic although feeling resigned is not something to be grateful for either.

Giving my molars reprieve from being ground to powder, I blow a ragged breath and sit on the bed, heavily and robotically. Afterward, I unbuckle my belt, unzip my pants, and open my fly before whipping my flaccid di¢k out of their confines then lean back with my hands on the bed behind me.

“Make me hard,” I tell Irish drudgingly.

“Shouldn’t you be the one preparing me first by making me wet? That way, you can get hard easily.”

“You’re stupid to even think I’d get hard by going down on you, woman.” I glare up at her before snatching my gaze off just as abruptly.

Any chances of getting hard would easily fly off the window if I look at her face. Hate would be too much to describe what I feel for Irish. But I dislike her enough to give me chills whenever I’m in her presence. She reminds me of those shadows I see in my dreams lurking at our ancestral house. She creeps me out.

But no matter how incompatible I feel we are to each other, she is the only ticket I have to be free of my responsibilities to the Alfa family. The duties I so desperately want to run away from. Of all the women—aside from being chosen by my mother—Irish was the only one willing to take the gamble with me.

While deep in thought, I sense more than see Irish coming near me before she stands between my spread thighs. I close my eyes when she slowly gets to her knees. God forgive me but I can’t look at her. I can’t take it. When I feel her dainty hands picking up my co¢k, I tense up.

Get a grip, Valentine. Stay calm. This is fine. Things will turn out just fine.

If only her hands are calloused like a man’s, I think I might have the chance to get aroused. But they are not, she is not a man. Her hands are soft and thin, scarily bony. Again, the image of Irish playing with my body chills me up and my mind starts suggesting to my body to puke.

Keep it together. Keep it together. You will be fine, Valentine. Just breathe. Stay calm.

I can’t afford to destroy the mood. I have to endure and make this work. If what Irish said was true about her ovulating, she would be pregnant with an Alfa baby after tonight. I am resolved to do this, just this one time only and I would be free of my responsibility. I would be free in more ways than one.

To get myself in the mood, I start imagining things that arousë me. I imagine a nakëd man, tall and ripped with a big di¢k. I have done this before during my younger days when I had the urge to mästurbate but it still has the same effect in me—or the lack thereof. I feel nothing.

I flinch at the feel of Irish’s tongue swiping over and around my crown while her hand massages my length, making a futile attempt to make me hard. Not in a million years have I thought that I would be engaged much more be married.

Although I felt desire and I desire men, I never considered settling down. But my engagement with Irish is different. We were arranged since the beginning—well, since I was younger and preoccupied with work to think about anything else.

The luxurious engagement party was prepared by my father’s people. A party with the full intention of showing off the money and pride the Alfa family has built over the years although I could bet no one cared about the union. Most of the people just wanted to be there to ride with the Alfa’s coattail.

Speaking of the crowd. Yes, I remember Sean being present at the party. I sent him the invitation, after all. My mind snaps to the present when I feel Irish taking me wholly into her mouth, still soft and unresponsive. Right, should I think about Sean, see if I can get a reaction at all?

I swallow hard. Sean was so good looking in his Armani and neatly combed hair. In truth, nothing was especially new about him because he always looks like that no matter what day it is. But somehow Sean radiated a different vibe during my engagement. He was beaming and if I dare say, looking $exual as well.

Yes, I remember Sean had been staring at his boyfriend with a buzzed head and an elaborate beard. He has tanned skin and green eyes, a chiseled jaw, and a pouty bottom lip. He was so tall, his head jutted out amongst the crowd. He had a poker face but something was weird about him.

Something… I shudder and goosebumps crawl up my skin. I snap my eyes open and gasp in shock. Why am I thinking about the other guy? I am supposed to think of Sean! Suddenly drained of energy, I drop my back to the bed and stare at the ceiling while remembering those sinfully dark green eyes glowering at me.

“Oh, wow, Val! You’re finally reacting!” Irish announces dramatically as though she had just discovered the answer to world peace.

I swear I like Sean but I can’t get myself hard thinking about him. His boyfriend, however, seems to draw something deep inside me. His presence. His piercing, green eyes. His dark skin and towering build like… Like a predator prowling, watching its prey’s every move and ready to pounce.

In my engagement party, when I said my vow, I had accidentally locked eyes with that mysterious man and frozen up as though I was sucked into the dark abyss. His gaze narrowed as though he found his target, flickering in excitement to haunt and devour, and I found myself staring back like a prey eager to get caught.

“Oh! Oh, shit!” I gasp before grabbing Irish’s hair, pushing her away yet the woman won’t budge. “Damn it! Get off!” I growl but it’s too late as I ejäculate into her mouth, so sudden and so strong I feel like dying from the uncontrollable desire that grips my entire body.

Shocked, I look at Irish as she emerges from between my thighs and straddles my hips. She has a satisfied smirk on her lips but somehow I can’t feel anything but bliss, not even guilt that I just thought of someone else. I look down at myself. Incredibly so, I am still hard.