The club was hot and sweaty when Henry stepped inside with his friends. Hundreds of bodies jumped at the blaring music so loud the bass vibrated through Henry’s chest.
Being the prince, he was ushered in through an entrance used for VIPs, on the second level of the club. Immediately Henry’s friends cheered at the crowd and slipped to the bar to get fucked up as quickly as they could.
It was a weekly ritual coming to the club with them. It was a little ways away from the palace, but that was a good thing. So far, he’d only been snapped a few times here, and thankfully none of the pictures had caught anything compromising. Just him dancing with his friends, or Henry looking over the crowd from the second floor.
The first time he came here, it had been the most fun he’d ever had at a club, so he came again, and again. Eventually it became “the spot.”
It hadn’t been long before a man had approached him one night asking if he’d like “the VIP treatment.”
Henry joined his friends at the bar and ordered a whiskey sour. For a few minutes, he watched the crowd dance. Neon lights flashed red, blue, and green. The DJ switched to a remix of a Daft Punk song. The crowd roared. His friends hurried to the dance floor, leaving Henry to himself. They already knew he didn’t come here to dance anymore.
Turning back to the bar, Henry slid his now empty glass to the bartender. “VIP treatment, please.”
The bartender took his glass and nodded, before disappearing somewhere.
Not a minute later, a man appeared and led him into a wing of the club that held the VIP rooms. It was separated from the VIP booths, where anyone with enough influence could access. The rooms were exclusive to a select amount of people the club allowed to use. Henry hadn’t known about them before he’d been offered access, and it was no wonder when he realized what happened in the rooms: illegal prostitution, drug trade, black market deals, extortion, and anything else that took place behind closed doors.
When Henry had become aware of this, he was horrified. Of course he knew these things happened, especially in settings like nightclubs, but he’d never seen it firsthand. As the prince, he was shocked he would even be shown a piece of the UK’s underworld, but they must’ve known Henry wouldn’t do anything about it. For some reason, he didn’t.
No, he knew why.
They stopped in front of a door. The man opened it for him and gestured. Henry stepped inside. A smile stretched his lips as soon as he saw him.
Alex sat on the bed wearing a pair of black bunny ears. That was the name he used: Bunny, so he couldn’t be identified by his real name. But Alex liked Henry, so he’d told him. Next to him was a half empty bottle of lube.
The door closed behind him.
“About time,” Alex grinned. “I was waiting so long I almost fell asleep.”
Henry stepped over to the bed and paused at the foot. “Forgive me.”
Alex hummed. “Forgiven.” He was wearing nothing but the bunny ears and black mesh high waist briefs. Usually Alex wore full outfits, so it looked incomplete. As if reading his mind, Alex said, “I had a top but my last client stole it.” He pouted. “It was cute, too.”
Henry chuckled and kneeled on the bed, leaning down and pushing Alex onto his back. “You still look remarkable.”
“Such a gentleman.”
He spread his legs and nudged Henry’s body closer. Their lips came together in a deep kiss. It quickly turned hungry, messy. Henry pulled off his shirt and held Alex’s thigh against him. Alex moaned, running his hands along Henry’s back.
Henry kissed the spot on Alex’s neck that was sensitive, earning him a gasp. He trailed his mouth down his perfumed throat, down his chest.
Alex gripped his biceps and pushed Henry onto his back. Henry watched with dark eyes as Alex unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off along with Henry’s underwear. Snatching the lube, Alex squirted some into his hand and stroked it all over Henry’s cock. He ducked his head and worked Henry with his tongue.
Groaning, Henry closed his eyes and bucked his hips.
This—Alex—was the reason he allowed the club to continue to operate. Henry knew this made him just as bad at them, especially knowing Alex wasn’t here by choice. He was American and being trafficked as a prostitute. He’d been taken against his will and traded all over the world as an “exotic” whore. He’d ended up in the UK five months ago, right before Henry had started coming here. Before that, he’d been dragged all across Asia.
Alex had been the first and only whore Henry met here. He’d been a nervous wreck his first time with Alex, since he had never done something like this. But Alex was so patient and kind, going slow and reassuring Henry the whole time. Henry didn’t know if experiences with prostitutes were supposed to be that intimate, but Henry hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, “Bunny”, until the next time they met, and then he was hooked.
Every time he came to the club, Henry went to the VIP rooms to be taken to Alex. To end the club’s operations would mean that this would end, Alex would be taken by some kind of authority, probably be deported back to America, and Henry would never be able to discreetly see him again without the prying eyes of the world on him. Not to mention, the club would probably spill that Henry had engaged in their nefarious business. The club had its claws in Henry, and he knew it.
Alex pulled away and looked at him. “Do you wanna take a hit?”
Grinning, Alex hopped off the bed and stepped over to the dresser, where there lay a baggie of cocaine. With his back to Henry, Henry noticed a fluffy cottontail attached to the high waist briefs. Cute. Alex really liked to play into the whole bunny theme.
Henry propped himself on his elbows as Alex skipped over to the bed with the baggie and a plastic straw—cut so that it was only a few inches—in hand.
He dumped a line of coke onto the thin line of hair trailing down Henry’s naval. Carefully, Alex fixed the coke, then leaned down and snorted it through the straw.
He sat up and threw his head back, rubbing his nose. There was a fresh hickey below his jaw that Henry hadn’t noticed. Henry bit the inside of his cheek. Alex grunted and looked back at him with his pupils blown wide. “Shit, that’s good.”
He handed the baggie and straw to Henry, then lay beside him and held out his forearm for Henry to dump his own line. Shaking the coke out of the baggie, Henry was quick to snort it all up. He tipped his head back, the rush falling down his throat.
There was still a little coke left in the baggie, but he discarded it and the straw to the nightstand.
Now coked up, Alex shed his high waist briefs and threw a leg over Henry’s hips as he giggled.
Henry’s hands snaked up his body. He marveled at Alex’s beautiful sun-kissed skin, so perfect and unblemished, except for the small snake tattoo below the inside of his elbow. It marked him as property of whoever was trafficking him. Henry never asked, but the snake was probably affiliated with some kind of gang, or the people running the club. It was discreet enough that it looked like a tattoo anyone would get, otherwise it would be too obvious to identify that it was a marker.
Alex held onto Henry’s shoulders. Slowly, he rolled his cock into Henry’s. Heat struck Henry’s gut. He sunk into the pillows and closed his eyes again. “Fuck,” he moaned.
“You like that?” Alex asked in a soft voice.
“Keep doing it.”
Alex chuckled and pressed against his pelvis. Henry took a sharp breath. His hands moved to Alex’s ass, groping his cheeks.
Their breaths grew heavy. Alex circled his hips and dragged his cock and balls over the underside of Henry’s, the lube squelching. Henry arched with a groan.
Alex really lived up to his title of being a whore. He was so fucking good at pleasuring Henry, he swore every time he came he felt like he was going to die from pure bliss. Not even ecstasy or coke could compare. Somehow, Alex had even made Henry come several times in a single session. It was as if Alex could map out Henry’s body and pull pleasure from all the right places.
His cock pulsated against Alex’s. Henry’s heart beat so fast he was sure Alex could hear.
Suddenly, Alex pulled away and turned around, so his ass was facing Henry. Henry grabbed his cock—wet and hot in his hand—and pressed the head to Alex’s hole. Inch by inch Alex went down on his cock, until he was sitting on Henry’s hips.
Henry groped his ass and kneaded his cheeks. Alex moaned. He lifted his hips and came down on Henry’s cock in shallow strokes.
“God, I missed your cock,” he said.
“I missed your ass.”
Alex let out a breathy laugh. He picked up his pace. Henry watched, entranced, as his cock was easily swallowed into Alex’s ass with each stroke. Fuck, the sound of the smack of their skin was so wet.
Gripping Alex’s hips, Henry fucked into him, meeting his strokes.
Eager moans dripped from Alex’s lips, a symphony to Henry’s ears. Henry brought his palm down to his cheek with a loud slap. Alex gasped. His bunny ears slid down his face. He grabbed it and threw it over the bed.
Henry held Alex’s hips still and pushed himself up so they were both on their knees, Alex’s back to Henry’s chest. He wrapped one arm around Alex’s waist, and hooked the other under Alex’s shoulder. In this position, it was easier for Henry to fuck into him. Alex’s jaw hung open, Henry’s name on his tongue.
He was so warm and tight around Henry. His cock fit snug inside him. So perfect.
He felt Alex clench around him and cursed. Henry held him tighter, thrusting hungrily. His eyes cut to the hickey under Alex’s jaw. His chest burned. Leaving visible marks on the whores was prohibited, as Henry was told before he had first been allowed into the VIP rooms, but goddammit, this wasn’t fair. Someone else had made their mark on Alex and it pissed him off. Why had they been allowed to do that? Alex wasn’t theirs. He hated it.
Leaning in, Henry wrapped his lips around the crook of Alex’s neck and sucked on it hard. Alex must’ve known what he was doing because he called his name, but Henry ignored him.
Once he was satisfied, he moved his Alex’s shoulder to mark up.
Henry brushed his fingers over Alex’s erect nipples. Goosebumps erupted under his touch.
With a stuttering breath, Alex turned his head and cupped Henry’s cheek, bringing their lips together. Their lips smacked in a hot kiss. Henry curled his tongue into his mouth, and Alex nipped his lip. Henry felt so fucking high.
He slowed his thrusts to a smooth pace and wrapped his hand around Alex’s cock, twisting his fist around it as he jerked him off. Alex moaned against his lips.
As they parted, Henry looked into Alex’s hooded eyes. Beautiful deep brows eyes the color of the earth bathed in the warm light of the setting sun. His eyelashes were long like wings of a swan. This close, Henry could see a tiny, faint mole in the crease of his eyelid. Henry had paused to gaze at him—the most ethereal thing he’d ever seen.
Reaching up, Henry brushed Alex’s hair out of his face. Alex’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the touch. His plush lips were dark and wet from the kissing, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink.
Henry took in every detail of his face, wanted to save this moment forever and never forget it.
Gently, Henry laid Alex onto his back again and climbed over his body. He kissed him again, this time softly.
Alex cupped his face and smiled. “You’re sweet.”
Butterflies fluttered in Henry’s chest.
He buried his head into Alex’s neck, pushing into him slowly and deeply, so Alex could feel every inch of him, and Henry could feel all of Alex around him. Alex’s heavy breathing echoed in his ears. His hand reached up to Henry’s and he intertwined their fingers together.
Henry came while holding Alex’s hand. His orgasm was soft, like Alex’s skin.
For a second he lay there to catch his breath and cool down. When he lifted his head, Alex was looking at him with glossy eyes. His hair fanned over the pillow. His skin glowed with a light sheen of sweat. God, he was magnificent.
Henry moved down and plunged three fingers inside him. Watching him, Alex bit his lip.
Henry curled his fingers upward.
“Ah!—Right there,” Alex moaned.
Henry rubbed the spot, cum and lube squelching with each movement, and Alex moaning like the whore he was.
As he did that, Henry sucked another bruise inside Alex’s thigh. Henry was probably going to get scolded for it, but he didn’t care.
Alex clutched the sheets, clutched Henry’s hair, arched his back, tightened his gut. With a gasp, cum spilled onto his stomach.
Henry pulled his fingers out. Alex grabbed his wrist and took Henry’s fingers into his mouth, sucking the cum and lube off them. Once he was finished, Henry cleaned up the mess on Alex’s stomach, lapping up all the cum.
They settled next to each other. Henry was a sucker for cuddling and pillow talk after sex, and Alex did whatever he wanted to do, so Alex nuzzled into his neck when Henry wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him in. His eyes felt heavy and tired as he started to come down from the high.
Alex let out a laugh. “How am I supposed to enjoy the rest of my clients after that?”
Henry didn’t respond. He couldn’t imagine that Alex did enjoy this most of the time, if at all. He liked to think that Alex enjoyed their sessions together as much as Henry did. It… didn’t feel like nothing. Henry wasn’t just using him. Henry wanted him for more than just a fuck. Emotionally and physically, Henry yearned for him. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he swore Alex felt the same. Otherwise, why would Alex tell him things he’d never tell any other client? Why had they made such a deep connection? At least, it felt that way to Henry.
He felt Alex smile against his neck, before Alex asked, “You know why you’re my favorite?”
Henry’s cheeks flamed as he grunted. “You’re the only one who’s ever cared how I feel when we fuck. Other clients, they don’t bother getting me off, only themselves,” he said. “And I mean, why would they?” He let out a sad laugh. Henry parted his lips to say something, but Alex pulled away to meet his eyes. “You’re the only client to ever make me orgasm, and that makes you special.”
Alex’s words weighed heavy on Henry’s chest.
The image of a bunch of men using him and throwing him away like garbage flashed in his mind. It disgusted him. But Henry wasn’t ignorant of the treatment of prostitutes. Still, he hated it. Alex didn’t deserve that. Henry wished he could take Alex away from here, wished Alex had never been forced into this life.
“My parents kicked me out when I told ‘em I was bi ‘cause I had a crush on this guy,'' Alex had told him one night, while they shared a joint. Any time they smoked Alex opened up to him. Something about weed, it was able to bring down his walls. “I was only on the streets a month before I was plucked up and trafficked. Fun, right?”
Henry hadn’t known what to say then, especially with how casual Alex spoke about it. Nothing seemed to faze him. From the bits of information Henry had been able to gather, Alex was trafficked four years ago, when he was seventeen. He could only imagine how Alex had become this way to cope.
Henry had spent many nights thinking of different ways to sneak him out, but in all of them the club bouncers would notice one of their whores running off with the prince, or they wouldn’t even make it out of the VIP rooms without the tight security seeing. Even if he could get Alex out, Henry was sure he’d have to stick him in some kind of detox center for all the drugs Alex was constantly doped up on. It was obvious he had a dependency on them, and Henry couldn’t even blame him.
And then what? They would live happily ever after in Henry’s palace? Him and an American boy who’d been kidnapped and forced into prostitution after being found on the streets, who wasn’t even in the country legally, wouldn’t cause concern to the public? Henry couldn’t subject Alex to that. His own name would be tarnished and Alex would never know peace.
Henry was aware of his own hypocrisy—engaging in the very thing he detested. But coming here and seeing Alex was the only way he could know that Alex was okay.
In a perfect world, they would walk out the doors without anyone noticing. Well, in a perfect world, Alex wouldn’t be trafficked, wouldn’t have lived on the streets, and wouldn’t have been kicked out of his house.
He took a breath before speaking.
“Do you ever wish you could… escape all of this?”
Alex let out a dry laugh. “I know I will, one day.”
Henry raised his eyebrows. Did Alex have his own plan? Maybe Henry could work with it. “Really? How?”
Alex hummed. “I’ll probably end up OD’ing,” he said, “or murdered by a client. Or by my pimp,” he said matter-of-factly. Henry clenched his jaw. He hated how nonchalant Alex was. Like he’d accepted this situation as his reality forever, accepted that there was no hope, no future for him beyond the hands keeping him pinned here. Though… there wasn’t much that would make him think otherwise.
“If there was another way out, would you take it?”
Alex looked at him with a scrutinizing face. For a moment, it was quiet, save for the muffled music outside the room. Letting out a breath, Alex nuzzled back into Henry’s neck. “No use thinking about it if it’s never gonna happen.”
Henry pursed his lips.
“Don’t think about it, ‘kay?” Alex patted Henry’s cheek. “I don’t or it gets depressing.”
There had to be a way out, though. There had to, and Henry wouldn’t stop thinking about it until he was able to work something out. He feared if he didn’t, Alex would be moved again to a different continent.
He shifted a bit. Alex made a noise.
“Are we gonna go again?” he mumbled. “‘Cause I’m crashing and I need to take another hit.” He started pushing himself up, but Henry pulled him back down.
“No, no. I just want to lay like this.”
For a while they stayed like that with Alex in Henry’s arms. Henry started drifting off.
When Henry opened his eyes again, he realized he’d fallen asleep. His arms were empty and Alex wasn’t beside him. Heart thumping, Henry shot up. Alex was at the nightstand wiping his nose aggressively. The baggie of cocaine lay empty. Sniffling, Alex turned to him and smiled. Henry frowned.
“This was fun.” Alex crossed the room, picked up his bunny ears, and fixed them atop his head, then slipped back on his mesh high waist briefs. “Don’t keep me waiting next week.”
Henry opened his mouth, but no words came out. He didn’t want Alex to go. Not now, not ever.
Alex noticed his expression and hopped onto the bed, climbing over to Henry and giving him a chaste kiss. “I’ll still be here,” Alex said in a low voice.
Henry let out a breath. “I suppose you will.”
Alex kissed him again before sliding off the bed and heading to the door. Over his shoulder, Alex glanced at him one last time. Maybe it was Henry’s imagination, but even though Alex was smiling, he looked sad.
In a second he was gone, and Henry was alone with the ghost of Alex lingering in the room.
Maybe not now, or tomorrow, or next week, but one day Alex was going to be in Henry’s own bed, back in his arms, and free.