Delicious Sinn

by Adrianna Dane

  "You go. You do it for both of us. Mary Anne is pregnant—I-I'd only hold you back. You go and do it for both of us."

  No, God dammit, he was not going to think about that. He was not going to revisit what was dead and buried. He'd promised himself he wouldn't look back. He wouldn't regret. No matter what happened he had to move forward. He owed it to Bobby. But more, he owed it to himself.

  He tried to strangle his panic into silence. His thoughts moved to the present and to the feel of Will's hands on his body. All over him, yanking him erect, cupping his balls. Callused hands, a strong, yet soothing voice. Clear eyes, blue eyes. There was something steadying in his physique, in his manner. Grounded in some way that had eluded Sinn for all these years. Sinn realized that's what had drawn him across that dance floor. A quiet sort of strength that reeled Sinn in. Will had something Sinn wanted, something he’d searched for all his life. And somehow Will knew exactly what had drawn Sinn to him.

  The question being would he use it to destroy Sinn, or was there something else waiting in the shadows? Something that Sinn wanted so bad, he'd put his life in the hands of a young, attractive stranger?

  Sinn honed in on the emotions sparking through him these last hours in the company of Will, a man whose last name he didn't even know. But somehow it didn't matter. It didn't matter what his name was, it was the man inside the skin that had seduced Sinn and it was a form of seduction Sinn had never experienced before. Except when he was immersed in his music. But then, that was even different than the feeling he had around Will. At one level it scared Sinn to realize how quickly he had succumbed to the man's seductive charisma. And yet, Sinn knew Will was exactly the type of man Sinn had been waiting for all his life. What he didn't understand was how it had happened so quickly. But it didn't matter.

  He took some deep breaths which helped to steady him. He considered his situation, he considered the man who had left him bound here and then disappeared. With an odd certainty, Sinn knew he'd come back. He hadn't left him here to die. He wasn't planning to kill him. Sinn leaned forward until his forehead rested against the padded floor. He closed his eyes. An image of Will, larger than life, appeared inside his head.

  Do you trust me?

  Yes, I trust you.

  The tension flowed out of Sinn. He waited with a surety and a patience he'd never expected to feel with another man again. A peace and sense of rightness he'd never thought possible. The feeling amazed him. All his life he'd fought–Montana, his stepfather, his background, the men who'd used him for their own amusement in L.A. Somehow it all slipped away, and the fight left him. It exhausted him. It was as though all the walls trapping him inside had crumbled and he was free in a way he'd never been before. Not for the entirety of his life. Now, the darkness felt like a warm cocoon and he embraced the feeling of being swaddled inside. And once again his arousal began to build. This tension that grew inside him was not one of trepidation, it was one of being reborn and arising into a new skin. He wanted this, fuck, but he wanted this. This was exactly where he was meant to be. He eased himself carefully into this new mantle—one of submission and acceptance.

  Will.

  Then the room was lit by the soft glow of the bare bulb. He blinked, then angled his head and squinted upward and saw the simple light fixture slowly descend toward him, halting just above his head. A whisper of sound caught his attention and had him turning to the paneled walls. His gaze widened when the panels in front of him flipped around and white panels appeared. The floor-to-ceiling images flashed across the screen panels. Images he found familiar. Wild images of Wyoming, Montana, the Yellowstone. Buffalo and wolves and mountain cats. Branding and hunting and tracking. Sounds erupted into the room–wolf calls, cat growls, moose calls. He shook his head from side to side. He didn't want to remember, but the images were so beautiful, filled with a clarity and sense of motion and depth bringing the images to life with a force of recognition he couldn’t deny. He couldn't look away.

  "Feel the joy, not the pain," Will said from behind him. "These images are a part of you. Accept them, don't deny them. All your life you've been fighting your blood. Embrace them because you're a part of them just as they're a part of you. They’re there in your music. Don’t you think everyone feels it in that primitive rhythm you create? In the savage intensity of your lyrics?"

  Will's hands settled on his shoulders and Sinn felt grounded as he watched and listened. He'd been afraid of accepting, of embracing his past. Until this moment. Grounded by Will, he wasn't afraid any more. Not anymore.

  He nodded his head. He couldn't take his eyes off the panels. Like a thirsty man gone without sustenance for so long he needed these images. They refilled him, changed him.

  The images and the sounds faded away, the panels flipped back around to black.

  "Do you understand?" Will asked.

  Sinn nodded. He understood and he accepted. He felt like a man who had survived a vicious storm and he felt depleted and yet revived. But how?

  Will removed the sodden silk. He held a bottle of water to Sinn's lips. Sinn drank deeply. He wondered what came next. He was eager for more discovery.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sinn emptied the bottle and Will tossed it into the receptacle for recyclables near the door. Sinn cleared his throat. Will glanced back at him. He still knelt upon the floor, lovely bottom bare. His lips reddened and wet from the spring water he'd just drunk.

  "What now?" Sinn asked. There was more interest in his expression than concern. His gazed traveled over Will as he obviously marked the change in Will’s clothes. His gaze settled on the crop. A bit of the trepidation returned to his expression.

  Will set the crop down on the shelf and went back to him. He pulled a small key from his pocket, knelt behind Sinn, and then uncuffed him. He kneaded Sinn’s wrists and his fingers. Slowly Sinn brought his arms down, then lifted and massaged his red-marked wrist.

  “Was that necessary?” he asked.

  Will didn’t answer. He massaged the tight muscles in Sinn’s shoulders, then slowly worked his way down Sinn’s arms When he was satisfied that some of the stiffness had eased and the blood flow had returned to normal, he helped Sin to stand, his leather pants still hanging just at his thighs. Will noticed his cock was semi-erect. The look in Sinn's eyes seemed somewhat assessing. No fear, more curiosity. Satisfied that Sinn could stand on his own, Will walked across the room to one of the panels, pressed it and the panel swung open to reveal a small cubicle that was a serviceable bathroom with a shower stall. He turned back to Sinn.

  "You'll find everything you'll need to get cleaned up. Strip now. You won't need what you're wearing for the next few hours at any rate. I'll see to your clothes." He picked up the crop and turned to face Sinn.

  "Nice outfit," Sinn said, his eyes leisurely roving over Will, a lusty message in that look.

  "Now," Will said.

  A bit of the jaded wariness returned to Sinn's eyes. He hesitated, then shrugged, and slowly he began to remove the remainder of his clothes. First he leaned down to unlace the heavy black boots, he slipped off the white cotton socks, then removed his black leather pants. Will couldn’t help but be amused when the older man drew himself up to full height, displaying himself quite deliciously. Still fit, abs tight, no extra flesh to be found. Will noticed his cock was now at full staff, bobbing full steam. Well, he doubted that would last. Not once he explained what came next.

  "Leave the leather thong in place. The leash at your neck, the thong around your arm. Now, come here."

  Staring at Will, a challenge in that look, as he strutted across the black padded floor to stand in front of Will. "Yeah...boss?"

  Flirty, naughty, exactly as Will had expected. Engaging and lively.

  "Now you'll scrub, inside and out. My playmates have to be clean–very clean before we play."

  A look of confusion flared in Sinn's eyes. "Excuse me?"

  Will nodded toward the sink and the cellophane wrapped implements. "I think you'll
figure it out."

  "Fuck me, you can't be serious."

  "I'm very serious. I don't want accidents. And leave the door ajar. I want to be certain you accomplish everything you're supposed to."

  "You're not watching me use that thing."

  "Do you know how to use it? Have you used one before?"

  Something flitted across Sinn's face. Yes, either he'd used one himself, or someone else had used it on him.

  "Do you need my help?" Will asked softly.

  A silent war erupted between the two men. It was Sinn who yielded first. "No, I don't need your damned help. I know what to do."

  Will cocked his head and arched a brow. "Then the quicker it’s done, the sooner we can play." He tapped the new crop against his gloved hands. "Do we play or not?"

  "Who are you? That slide show." Sin's gaze narrowed. "How did you know?"

  "Know what? You asked me once before what I did for a living. I'm a photojournalist."

  "So you took all of them yourself?"

  "I did."

  "But why these, why show them to me?"

  "Wild things. all of them. Just like you. I used to work with animals before I came to Seattle. I was known somewhat as a whisperer of sorts. I've been told I have good hands. Animals respond to me. I don’t frighten them like a lot of humans do."

  He saw Sinn glance down at his black-gloved hands. "You come from the west. Like me."

  It was a guess. But Will shouldn't have expected any less. Sinn was an intelligent man.

  "Montana." Will paused. "Like you."

  Sinn's head snapped up as he looked into Will's face. He cocked his head. "Do I know you? Is that what this is all about?"

  Will motioned to the bathroom. "You're wasting time."

  "We're not done talking. I want to know–"

  "Later. Eventually, I expect you'll figure it out. Now, you need to get cleaned up. Everything you need is inside. And I'll be waiting. You have fifteen minutes. No more. So you'd best get started."

  Sinn leaned forward and sniffed loudly. "You took a shower, too. But not in here." He glanced around. "Where?"

  "Not your business. This room is for you. My guest."

  Sinn shrugged and stepped toward the bathroom. Will studied his backside. Nice. Very nice. Broad shoulders, a back that sloped down to a nicely muscled ass. A tight ass. Will had a feeling Sinn had not been fucked for quite some time. He was going to be snug, going to need loosening before Will fucked him. He gripped the dildoed handle of the crop. He'd get him ready, and he'd take his time doing it. And when Sinn begged him to fuck him, he'd be just stretched enough to grip his cock and make the ride enjoyable.

  “Wait,” he said. He set the crop on the horse then walked to Sinn. He stroked his hands over Sinn’s ass. Sinn tightened his buttocks. Mmm, nice. He reached around to curl a hand around his cock. “Be sure to use warm soapy water. Don’t make it too hot, nor too cold.” He stroked his hand up and down Sinn’s cock. “When you insert the nozzle into your ass, don’t be too quick. I want you to focus, to breathe. “ Sinn’s cock was now hard. He circled his fingers over the glans, played a finger over the slit. “Breathe slow and think about how it’s going to feel when my cock splits your ass. How much more full you’re going to feel.” Sinn’s breath grew rough. Will squeezed his cock. Sinn groaned. “Keep this hard for me. Don’t come. Don’t you dare come. And you make sure you fill that bag full and you take it all. I’m going to be listening and I’ll know exactly what’s going on in there. I have very keen hearing.” He stepped away. He slapped Sinn on the ass. “Now get going.”

  The door to the bathroom closed with a sharp crack. A moment later the shiny gold knob turned and it opened a crack. Will smiled. It was just enough to give privacy. It wasn't Will’s purpose to humiliate Sinn, but he would have him clean. One of Will's quirks was cleanliness, top to bottom, inside and out.

  Listening to the water running, hearing the package broken open, all the sounds of preparation. In some ways they soothed him. They served as a sort of foreplay, a surety. He circuited the room, smoothed a hand over the black horse, kept walking until he came to the sleek black cupboard. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out the box of specially ordered flavored condoms. He flipped open the top, heard a groan from the bathroom. He brushed a hand over his cock, fully erect behind the leather of his pants. He thumbed through the foil packets inside the box. He chose two–one green, one yellow. He carefully laid them out on the table next to the chest, then closed the lid and returned the box to the drawer. For the moment, that would be enough.

  From the upper cupboard he pulled down a new tube of lubricant. No ordinary lube for this session, but a special velvety long-lasting silicone lube for a more pleasurable sensation. He set it next to the wrapped condoms. He heard the toilet flush. Then flush again. A thud as the used implements hit the trash can. Mumbling from Sinn. And then the shower came on. Will smiled as he turned back toward the bathroom. Slowly he made his way to the half-closed door. He pulled it all the way open and focused on Sinn's silhouette clearly visible through the clear thin vinyl curtain. He leaned against the doorjamb and waited, watching Sinn soap himself, then rinse squeaky clean. Exactly the way Will liked his men. A woodsy scent permeated the steamy atmosphere of the bathroom. Will inhaled deeply. A cleansing breath. More than ready to have that vinyl curtain shoved aside. But he could wait. He stroked across his erection. Sinn would be worth it.

  * * *

  Sinn stepped into the shower feeling like he'd been thoroughly reamed out, sore and emptied. But his every sense was aroused. His cock fully erect. Why was he going the distance for this man? What was it about him? He'd not bent to any man in longer than he could remember—or maybe wanted to remember was the more accurate term. Will had a way of not making him feel so much used as pampered. His words and instruction to Sinn before he’d come in here had made the enema almost an erotic experience. Now that was just fucked up. But it was true.

  He turned toward the jet spray that rained down on him. He turned his face up and closed his eyes. Using the liquid soap–a rather expensive brand he noticed, and a sea sponge, he began to soap himself up. Clean. He wanted to be clean for Will. He wished his mind, his memories were half as clean as his body was going to be.

  As he soaped himself he thought of Will dressed in the black riding outfit. Old world, dapper, dangerous, confident. Sinn had never been that confident when he was Will's age. He wished he had been. He soaped down his body, jerked his white-foamed hand up and over his prick, as he thought about Will. He soaped his balls, then turned and let the water beat against his back.

  Sexy as hell. But who was he? Sinn had a very strong sense that they weren't strangers at all. Either here or in another life they had known each other, but in what capacity? He was really much younger than anyone Sinn would have hung around with when he lived in Montana. Where had they met? He had to have come from the same town or how would he have known about Sinn's background? He'd buried that as deep as he could when he'd changed his name. No one in Seattle, in his current circle knew about a man named David Garner. Sinn had killed him off, buried him, and hadn't looked back. So why did he feel like David was being resurrected?

  He reached up to the wet thing still tied around his neck. Why? What was Will trying to prove? What did he want Sinn to remember? Or more to the point, why did he want Sinn to remember? He opened the rusty door that led to the past. Sifted through those old memories. Lifted them up and examined them.

  Horse whisperer!

  Something niggled at the back of his brain. He had known a kid like that.

  Photographer.

  It couldn't be. Not him.

  Good with his hands. Special hands.

  He dropped the sponge, closed his eyes, and felt all the blood drain from his body. The water sprayed him clean as he stood there frozen in time. He remembered a dark-haired elfen boy with big sapphire eyes. Watching him and Bobby in the garage making music. Always watching them.

&n
bsp; Jesus!

  He turned off the water, then yanked back the curtain. Dripping wet he stood there. He looked at the door–at the man standing there. Raven black hair, sapphire blue eyes. No kid, no elf. Will stared back. Legs astride, the whip clasped between both hands, meeting Sinn's gaze.

  Sinn fought for his control. Slowly he stepped from the shower onto the stark white tile floor, grabbed the thick, black bath towel from the rack affixed to the wall, and toweled himself dry. Stroked over his thighs, between his legs, beneath his armpits.

  Will set the crop aside and stepped into the bathroom, took the towel, turned Sinn and dried his back. Down over his ass, between the crease. Drying him thoroughly. Sinn felt paralyzed by the memories, by the surety of exactly who Will was.

  And then slowly the world starting moving again, spinning faster and faster. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Will spread the towel out to dry. That's when he went for him. Spun him around with brutal hands, shoved him back out the door, down onto the mat, straddling him, pinning him to the mat.

  Oddly, Will didn't struggle. He lay complacently beneath Sinn staring up at him with confident sapphire eyes. Of course, he had possessed the knowledge the whole time.

  "You've been stalking me, haven't you?" Sinn said. Angry and aroused both as his cock rubbed against Will's bulging erection. "All this time you knew exactly who I was, damn you. You knew and you tried to hide it."

  "I didn't try to hide anything, you just didn't want to see it. Davy.”

  "Don't call me that," Sinn shouted. "David is dead. I killed him. My name is Sinn. Sinn Midnite."

  "All right. Sinn. If that's what you want to be called, then that's what I'll call you."

  He was doing exactly what he had done when he was a kid. Sinn and Bobby had remarked about it on occasion. The way he had of dealing with wild things. He’d kept a small menagerie of hurt things out in the barn. Sinn recalled that small back room that he’d claimed for his animals.