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Authors: Fyn Alexander
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cops.”
“I don‟t know, and I don‟t care.” His targets existed only in the moments he
spent with them. The aftermath was not his problem.
“Sir?”
“Go to sleep, boy.”
“Yes, Sir. Do you want me to suck your cock?”
“If I wanted you to suck my cock, I‟d order you to do it.”
“Yes, Sir. Will you spank me, Sir? I‟ve always wanted a spanking. I get hot just
thinking about it.”
Angel and the Assassin
35
“For crying out loud, stop talking! I‟ll spank you when I‟m ready. Listen to me
very carefully, boy; obey me and you‟ll be fine. You will not fart without my
permission. Got it?”
“Got it, Sir.”
“Go to sleep.”
“Yes, Sir.” Angel closed his eyes. His mouth found Kael‟s nipple, and he sucked
it. Kael was too tired to get aroused and allowed the boy to nuzzle his tits until he
fell asleep. It was the first time in his life Kael had drifted off to sleep with someone
in his arms.
* * *
Angel woke up. Sometime during sleep, he had rolled away from Sir and was
lying on the edge of the big bed facing the other way. The room was darker than
when they had fallen asleep. Glancing at the clock beside the bed, he saw it was
after three a.m., and he was starving. Quietly he sat up and looked at Sir. John
Carpe . The name was very masculine, like everything else about him. “Daddy.” But
he had been ordered not to say Daddy anymore.
Carefully, Angel pulled back the duvet to see him curled up on his side, naked
and beautiful.
You are so fucking hot!
He moved closer and very lightly ran his hands over the muscled shoulders
and back. The shaved head was elegant and smooth. He was so strong and big, and
he was in control of everything, yet somehow, asleep, he looked vulnerable.
Angel pulled the duvet up over Sir‟s shoulders again and patted it in cozily.
Leaning down, he kissed Sir‟s cheek, rough from a day‟s growth. All his fantasies
had come true in one strange night, except he knew this man would never love him.
He was already bored with him, no matter what he said.
I’ll end up on my own again, just like I always do.
Quietly, so as not to disturb him, Angel got up and, without bothering to dress,
wandered out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He looked about the flat
for signs of exactly who John Carpe was.
Though it was spartan, he actually liked the decor. It was simple and
comfortable, all black leather furniture, dark wood floors, and white walls. The
living room extended into a dining room area, with a glass-topped table and leather-
covered chairs set about it. It looked like no one had ever eaten there. At the
window, the nighttime skyline, indigo blue dotted with lights, reminded him of New
York, where he lived with his mom and Sven in the winter. The difference was that
Sven‟s apartment, though it was lavish, looked lived-in.
John Carpe had no magazines on the coffee table, no plants on the end tables,
no pictures of family on the walls. And everything was perfectly clean. It was like a
show apartment for a real estate agent, not a home.
36
Fyn Alexander
Angel wandered through the kitchen, opening the fridge again in hopes
something would appear that had not been there before. The cupboards were empty
too—only dishes, but no food. The only thing he could find to drink were bottles of
water and some booze he had noticed in the living room resting on the top of a long,
gleaming glass-and-oak sideboard.
In the entrance hall was the coat closet with a high shelf Angel was too short
to look at and several expensive coats carefully hung up. There was a spare
bedroom, furnished but obviously unused. A second door along the passage revealed
what appeared at first to be a home gym. Scanning the room further, he realized it
was a dungeon—a BDSM playroom.
Like the rest of the place, the room was white with a hardwood floor. The
windows were covered completely with very tight-fitting blinds so that no
“I don‟t know, and I don‟t care.” His targets existed only in the moments he
spent with them. The aftermath was not his problem.
“Sir?”
“Go to sleep, boy.”
“Yes, Sir. Do you want me to suck your cock?”
“If I wanted you to suck my cock, I‟d order you to do it.”
“Yes, Sir. Will you spank me, Sir? I‟ve always wanted a spanking. I get hot just
thinking about it.”
Angel and the Assassin
35
“For crying out loud, stop talking! I‟ll spank you when I‟m ready. Listen to me
very carefully, boy; obey me and you‟ll be fine. You will not fart without my
permission. Got it?”
“Got it, Sir.”
“Go to sleep.”
“Yes, Sir.” Angel closed his eyes. His mouth found Kael‟s nipple, and he sucked
it. Kael was too tired to get aroused and allowed the boy to nuzzle his tits until he
fell asleep. It was the first time in his life Kael had drifted off to sleep with someone
in his arms.
* * *
Angel woke up. Sometime during sleep, he had rolled away from Sir and was
lying on the edge of the big bed facing the other way. The room was darker than
when they had fallen asleep. Glancing at the clock beside the bed, he saw it was
after three a.m., and he was starving. Quietly he sat up and looked at Sir. John
Carpe . The name was very masculine, like everything else about him. “Daddy.” But
he had been ordered not to say Daddy anymore.
Carefully, Angel pulled back the duvet to see him curled up on his side, naked
and beautiful.
You are so fucking hot!
He moved closer and very lightly ran his hands over the muscled shoulders
and back. The shaved head was elegant and smooth. He was so strong and big, and
he was in control of everything, yet somehow, asleep, he looked vulnerable.
Angel pulled the duvet up over Sir‟s shoulders again and patted it in cozily.
Leaning down, he kissed Sir‟s cheek, rough from a day‟s growth. All his fantasies
had come true in one strange night, except he knew this man would never love him.
He was already bored with him, no matter what he said.
I’ll end up on my own again, just like I always do.
Quietly, so as not to disturb him, Angel got up and, without bothering to dress,
wandered out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He looked about the flat
for signs of exactly who John Carpe was.
Though it was spartan, he actually liked the decor. It was simple and
comfortable, all black leather furniture, dark wood floors, and white walls. The
living room extended into a dining room area, with a glass-topped table and leather-
covered chairs set about it. It looked like no one had ever eaten there. At the
window, the nighttime skyline, indigo blue dotted with lights, reminded him of New
York, where he lived with his mom and Sven in the winter. The difference was that
Sven‟s apartment, though it was lavish, looked lived-in.
John Carpe had no magazines on the coffee table, no plants on the end tables,
no pictures of family on the walls. And everything was perfectly clean. It was like a
show apartment for a real estate agent, not a home.
36
Fyn Alexander
Angel wandered through the kitchen, opening the fridge again in hopes
something would appear that had not been there before. The cupboards were empty
too—only dishes, but no food. The only thing he could find to drink were bottles of
water and some booze he had noticed in the living room resting on the top of a long,
gleaming glass-and-oak sideboard.
In the entrance hall was the coat closet with a high shelf Angel was too short
to look at and several expensive coats carefully hung up. There was a spare
bedroom, furnished but obviously unused. A second door along the passage revealed
what appeared at first to be a home gym. Scanning the room further, he realized it
was a dungeon—a BDSM playroom.
Like the rest of the place, the room was white with a hardwood floor. The
windows were covered completely with very tight-fitting blinds so that no
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