“You’re panicking. Suits you. Where can you go, sweetheart? You’re in the middle of nowhere. No one is expecting you for days. Your drugs are gonna wear off and you’re going to be bred so hard you’ll be loose and sore. You’ll snuggle up into your nest to recover. And you’ll invite Daddy inside, won’t you? We have a lot of time to make up for, baby. You won’t get a plug. I’m going to keep you on my knot for days, Daniel. If you run, you’ll just make it harder on yourself.”

“I—right. I know that,” he says, barely able to cling to the conversation. Run, run, his mind shouts.

“I’ll catch you, sweetheart. You can try and run, but I’ll overpower you, and then I’ll take you inside and tie you down. I’ll punish you for running,” Liam warns.

The world tilts around him. He wants to run but he’s suddenly weak. His heart is still pounding in his chest. This is what he’s wanted since the moment he came into his designation. What he’d dream about. The worst thing he needed—to run and be caught. To be punished and used up.

“What?” Daniel can’t think with how loud his heart is pounding.

“Pretty boy. I know who you are, baby. Do you remember who I am? You’re not the first suppressed submissive, honey. You’re not the only submissive with a prey designation. Don’t you know what my job was? You run from Daddy and you’ll get it good and long.”

His thumb strokes up the column of Daniel’s throat, right over his pulse point. Daniel makes an aborted attempt to run, a half lurch to the side before he stops himself or is stopped by the hand around his neck, he isn’t sure. He meets his Daddy’s gaze.

There he is. Under the facade of suppressants, he can see the predator his Daddy is, see that he is wanted. “Daddy?” His voice breaks. “I couldn’t… you didn’t let me run before. Would I be bad?”

Liam groans, his weight shifts and Daniel is pressed firmly against the car, trapped. He cries out. Liam settles against him, grinding low and close, and all Daniel can feel is the cage digging into him. The pain is exquisite. It’s close to orgasm, to overstimulation, and that’s something he’d loved.

“I—I might—” he gasps.

“You won’t. Not yet. My prey. My sweet submissive boy. Why didn’t Daddy let you run before? Do you remember?”

“I think—” he starts, but it’s hazy. He was so turned on, so lost to desire during those days that it’s a blur. “I don’t know.”