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'Y-you don't have to,' Waylon stammers. Eddie stares at him, unaffected, and Waylon does the only thing he can, with both feet spread and tied down.
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He slicks a finger over his forehead, gathering perspiration, and sticks it in himself. Waylon squirms on his finger and tries to make himself look as appealing as possible, the blade between his legs precariously close to his arm.
'Don't you want to put a baby in me?'
It's the straw that breaks the camel's back. Eddie pulls the blade away and crouches before Waylon in fascination, pushing in a finger alongside his own. Waylon winces at the dry burn and swallows. So far, so good, he tells himself.
Until the fingers leave him and Waylon hears the telltale zip of trousers and there's a nudge of something that definitely isn't a finger at his asshole. Oh, fuck, great, he didn't fucking think this through. The head nudges at his opening crudely, insistently, and Waylon's mind races.
Eddie cups a gentle hand around Waylon's head. 'You're shivering, darling,' he murmurs, and shifts his grip to the back of Waylon's neck. 'Nerves on our wedding night? Never been touched by another man, have you? My sweet virgin wife. I'll make a woman out of you.'
With the first thrust of Eddie's cock comes a fierce searing burn deep inside him and Waylon cries out in fear, shaking as Eddie fucks him, stretching and tearing. There's blood, Waylon registers, dizzy with pain. There's blood and Eddie's next few thrusts don't hurt nearly as much as they did at first.
There's screaming. Waylon realises it's him, his hands scrabbling uselessly at Eddie's shoulders and broad chest while Eddie pumps in and out of him, grunting in satisfaction. The noise tapers off after a while into whimpers, and after a few more thrusts Eddie pushes all the way inside him and comes, shuddering. It stings. Waylon is dizzy and nauseous and his ass is on fire, but now all he wants to do is curl into a ball and sleep.
'You were so good, my darling,' Eddie tells him, and pulls out. He inspects the table beneath Waylon and nods in satisfaction at the blood. 'So tight, and I took your virginity as well. My little wife. Come, I will take you to a proper bed.' He unties Waylon and scoops him up, bridal-style, legs hanging down over his arms.
Waylon still needs to seal the deal. Eddie is mentally unstable and looking for a soft, loving wife. Gain his trust and then slowly work his way out. Yes, Waylon thinks, giddy. He can do this. Eddie Gluskin is a formidable ally.
He nuzzles into Eddie's chest, feels the rise and fall of it. It's an act, he chants in his head, and turns his face upwards to look Eddie straight in the eye.
'I love you,' Waylon says as honestly as he can manage, and he can feel Eddie's arms tighten around him. There's the brush of lips across his forehead, gentle and coaxing, and Waylon swallows. 'If you love me too, you wouldn't change me. Not one bit.' The bile rises in his throat as he waits for Eddie's response, and Waylon fights back the urge to throw up. It can come later, later when Gluskin is under his thumb. One must keep up appearances.
Eddie stiffens. 'Of course I love you!' He says loudly, voice booming down the hallway. 'You're my wife now. But we'll take care of vulgarities after the babies are born, won't we?'
Waylon is close to unconsciousness now, his tongue thick and fuzzy in his mouth. '... After the babies,' he rasps, clutching at Eddie's shirt.
'Yes,' Eddie promises. 'After the babies.'