“It is not just cold. It is more. Now tell me.”
“Wet. It crawls.”
“Much better. Keep going, Jacob.”
Jacob corralled the runaway rivulets and guided them back to Ben’s hole. He clenched so tight it almost disappeared. Jacob rubbed the wrinkled ring of skin.
“You are quiet again, Ben. I want to know what you feel.”
“Humiliated.”
“Not yet, but soon.”
Ben huffed. “I don’t know how it feels. Like someone rubbing my asshole.”
“Continue, Jacob.”
Jacob added pressure, and Ben tensed more. “Relax.”
Ben glared at Jacob over his shoulder.
“Tell me what you see, Jacob, how he feels when you touch him. How touching him makes you feel.”
“He’s tight. Really tight. I’m scared I’ll hurt him.”
“You will not.”
“His skin is smooth. He’s still hairy back here but not in a bad way.”
Marcel chuckled, and Jacob couldn’t help but smile.
“And how does it feel to touch him. To touch another man this way?”
It wasn’t something Jacob hadn’t done before, yet it didn’t feel like those other times. “I’m not sure.”
“And that is not for you to decide.”
Of course not. “Self-conscious. Scared.”
“And hard.” Again, a statement.
Jacob hadn’t even realized he was until Marcel said it.
“Yes.”
“Now, push in a finger.”
Jacob coaxed a fingertip past the ring of muscle.
Ben made a sound that could have been a protest.
“Deeper, Jacob.”
He made small thrusts, each one deeper than the next until Ben took his entire finger. His clenching hole relaxed enough for Jacob to quicken his thrusts.
“Ben?” Marcel said.
“I…” A flush colored Ben’s shoulders. “Weird. Like something that doesn’t belong.”
“And that is not all.”
“It…” Ben huffed, and more tension left his body.
“Another, Jacob. And this time, Ben, tell me what it feels like when he fucks you with his fingers.”
Jacob added more lubricant, then pushed two fingers against Ben’s opening. This time he was quicker to relax, but the tension returned when Jacob passed his first knuckle.
“It burns.” Ben’s breaths quickened. “It doesn’t hurt, but it does.”
Jacob thrust slowly, changing his angle so he’d rub Ben’s prostate. One slow stroke over the bundle of nerves and Ben was up on his elbows with a shout.
“Again, Jacob.” Marcel’s voice deepened. Had he unzipped his pants and taken out his cock? Or just rubbing himself through his trousers.
Jacob massaged the spot again, and Ben jerked, air wheezing from his throat.
“Again.”
Jacob obeyed.
“It’s too much.” Ben’s protest hissed from behind his teeth.
“Take it, Ben, do this for me. Gift me with this.”
“Fuck,” Ben yelled into his pillow. “It’s too intense. Please, fuck…”
Sweat beaded on Jacob’s upper lip. He moved his fingers faster, concentrating on that one spot, milking Ben the same way Marcel often did to him.
Ben tore at the pillows and shoved his hips against the mattress, riding back on Jacob’s fingers, writhing, pleading, cry after cry muffled by the pillow Ben seemed set on suffocating himself with.
A spasm ripped through Ben’s body, and his hole clenched around Jacob’s fingers over and over. Jacob slowed but didn’t stop.
“Very nice, Ben. You please me.”
Ben turned enough to show his profile. He glared at the phone.
“How did it feel?”
“How do you think?”
“I know what I think. I want to know what you felt.”
“I came, isn’t that enough?”
“No.”
“It.” Ben swallowed. “It was intense. It felt different than other times. When I…when I had sex or jerked off. It wasn’t…” He seemed to catch himself.
“Was not what?”
“It didn’t feel like I thought it would. It felt good.” Ben scrubbed his face against his forearm.
“And it will feel more than that when you take my cock.”
Ben squeezed his eyes shut.
“The ice, Jacob.”
“It’s right here.”
“Are you dressed?”
“I’m wearing a towel.”
“Remove it.”
Ben lifted his head. Jacob fully expected Ben to protest, but instead of disgust, his eyes darkened. He kept his attention on Jacob, eyes tracking his movements as he did what Marcel said.
“Put a cube in your mouth, and stroke your cock, but do not come.”
Jacob gripped his cock with his lube slicked hand. Ben pushed up more on one elbow. Jacob stroked, and the tide of pleasure threatened to crest quicker than he was used to.
“Keep going, Jacob.”
He did.
Ben stared at him with heat in his eyes. His tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.
Jacob rose up on his knees, rocking into his fist, running his fingers to the tip of his dick and squeezing the slit. Precum joined the lubricant.
“Stop,” Marcel said.
Jacob obeyed, biting back a cry and almost choking on the damn ice cube.
“Lay back down, Ben.”
Ben glanced at the phone then Jacob. The question was clear on his face. How did Marcel know?
Ben laid back down but kept his head turned. Not to the phone, but with the clear intent of keeping Jacob where he could see him.
“Now Ben, spread your ass for Jacob. And Jacob, I want you to put the ice inside him with your tongue.”
Ben didn’t move.
Jacob jerked his chin at him.
When he still didn’t move, Jacob parted Ben’s ass cheek and pressed his mouth to Ben’s hole. He whimpered. The ice cube had melted enough that Jacob didn’t have to try very hard to push it into Ben’s opening.
“You did not do as I asked, Ben.”
Ben whipped his attention to the phone.
“For that, Jacob will not make the others smaller. And he will fill you till I tell him to stop.”
Ben opened his mouth. Jacob dug his fingers into Ben’s butt cheek, and he snapped his mouth shut.
“Begin, Jacob. Use your fingers. Push the ice as deep as you can. And, Ben, spread your ass for him.”
Ben’s hands shook as he reached back and gripped his ass cheeks. Jacob picked up a cube. He brushed it over the ring of muscle, hoping to give Ben a moment to prepare himself. But he still tensed when Jacob worked it inside him. One glistening cube after the other. He nudged them past Ben’s entrance, following them with his finger until they were beyond his reach.
Ben quivered under Jacob’s hands. Small sounds ticked out Ben’s throat and he dug his fingers into his skin until his knuckles whitened.
“How do you feel, Jacob?”
He’d almost forgotten about Marcel. “Hot. Like it’s hard to breathe.”
“But that is not all.”
It wasn’t. “In control.” The realization pushed Jacob closer to the edge.
“No more ice, Jacob,” Marcel said.
Jacob obeyed.
“Did you buy condoms?”
“Yes.”
“Then put one on.”
Ben let go of his ass. “What?”
“Is there a problem, Ben?”
“Yes, there’s a problem. Maybe I don’t want him to…”
“Fuck you?”
“Yeah.”
Jacob snagged the box off the corner of the bed and took one out.
Ben’s pupils expanded until there was no color left in his eyes.
“Are you sure you do not want him to fuck you, Ben? Or you do not want me to listen while he does?”
Jacob s
meared lubricant over the condom. His pulse beat down the length of his cock. His entire body ached with the need to come. But he wouldn’t until Marcel allowed him to.
“Answer me, Ben Corbin. And do not lie because I will know.”
“Yeah. I don’t want you to listen.”
“But you want him to fuck you?”
Ben turned back around. “Yes.”
Jacob’s breath caught in his throat.
“And why do you want him to fuck you, Ben? What makes you want his cock in your ass but not mine?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Now tell me. Tell Jacob. I am waiting.”
“He’s kind. He’s nice to me even when he has every right to hate me. He’s gorgeous. I’m attracted to him.”
“But you have been attracted to others.”
“No. Maybe. If I was, it wasn’t like him. Not like…” Ben looked at Jacob over his shoulder. The want in his expression warred with anger. But Jacob knew that anger wasn’t for him. Any other time, any other man, he would have cowered.
This time it made him want Ben. The thought should have riddled Jacob with guilt, but there was too much desperation clogging Jacob’s veins.
He squeezed the base of his cock.
“Fuck him, Jacob.”
Jacob didn’t move. “I can’t.”
“And that is not your choice.”
“I know. It’s Ben’s.”
“He has said he wants you.”
“Not with you listening. I’m not going to force him, Marcel. I can’t.”
“Yet you are hard.”
“Yes.”
“You ache to fill him.”
“Yes.” Jacob’s voice trembled.
“And what Ben desires is more important to you than what I desire.” Marcel made it a statement.
“No, no, that’s not what I mean.” Jacob scrubbed his face, smearing lubricant over his nose.
“Then what do you mean?”
Jacob didn’t know. He wadded his fist in his hair.
“Then you are not allowed to come until Ben is ready to give me what I ask.” Silence filled the air. The cell phone beeped, and the screen on the smartphone went dark.
Jacob tore off the condom. The friction prickled his nerves, threatening to undo him. Precum leaked from his slit. Jacob breathed, but the pain wouldn’t lessen.
“Jacob.” Ben sat up. Cum covered his stomach. The scent mixed with Ben’s clean skin. Jacob grabbed the remains of the ice pack and crawled to the edge of the bed.
The mattress shifted behind Jacob. He pressed the ice pack to his engorged cock. The cold a serrated edge to his nerves.
“What do you need me to do?” Ben said.
“Nothing.” Jacob’s voice fractured. He curled over. The cold turned into a stabbing ache. “It’ll stop.” At least he hoped it would.
“You don’t really believe he’ll know, right? That’s just head games.”
Jacob’s laugh broke. “You’re wrong.”
“There’s no way he could know unless you told him. Please, Jacob, you can’t seriously—”
“No.” Jacob would not disobey Marcel. “Just…just leave me alone for a minute, okay.”
“But—”
“Ben, please.” Jacob lifted his gaze, but the world blurred. “Please, just, go get some clothes on. There’s still enough time for you to make it to the clinic. As soon as this…” Stops. Would it stop?
“You want me to leave?”
“The only other option is for me to go back to my room like this. Please don’t make me walk out there where people can see me.”
“I won’t.”
Jacob nodded.
“You really want me to go?”
No. Jacob wanted to fuck Ben. He wanted to shoot his load down his throat, over his ass, his face. Anywhere. He just wanted to come.
But Marcel had forbidden it.
“Yes.”
7
Sam held back the branches of a wild rose bush so Roshan could get by without snagging his clothes.
“Thanks.” He smiled, and Sam’s stomach flipped.
He shrugged. “Any time.”
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?”
“No need, we’re practically there.”
They topped the small incline. The half-acre pond emerged from the veil of trees, wildflowers, and prickly vines. Lily pads clogged the surface. Their fat blooms breaking up the heart-shaped leaves. By midsummer, there would be more pink than green.
“Wow.” Roshan widened his eyes. “I didn’t even know there was a pond around here.”
“Best kept secret.” Sam motioned for Roshan to follow him on the zigzagged path down to the dock. “We used to swim here.”
“We?”
Sam cursed. “Yeah, Joe and me. We used to swim here in the summer.”
“How.” Roshan nodded at the puddle of flowers. “There’s no room.”
“Well, it wasn’t that full then. Only some along the edges. Which wasn’t bad because it made a good place to catch bullfrogs.”
“What did you do with them?”
Sam grinned. “We’d let them go.”
“Why did you bother catching them if you let them go?”
“’Cause it’s fun.”
“And your parents let you?”
Sam shrugged. “Why wouldn’t they?”
Roshan got a faraway look on his face. “My mother would have had a fit if I even thought about touching a bullfrog.”
“Why?”
“She’s afraid of anything that’s not a small dog.”
“Wow. So you’ve, like, never held one?”
“No.”
Sam slipped off his backpack.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to catch you a frog. Everyone should touch a bullfrog at least once in their life.”
“Now?” Roshan stared wide-eyed at Sam.
“Why not?” Sam shucked off his shoes.
“It’s raining?”
“It’s misting.” Sam rolled up his pants. “And I’m going to get wet anyhow.”
“But it’s cold.”
“Not that cold. Besides, it’ll make them easier to catch. They don’t move as fast.”
“What if something happens to you?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. What if you go out too far and start to drown?”
“I won’t drown.”
“But what if you do? I can’t swim.”
Sam straightened up. “I promise I’ll be fine.”
Roshan gave Sam a doubtful look.
“I swim like a fish, and I know every inch of this pond. I promise. I’ll be okay.”
Sam wasn’t going to do it if it upset Roshan, so he waited until the other boy nodded. “Great.” Sam headed to the edge of the pond.
The softer grass stiffened into wide wiry blades and cattails. Mud squished up between Sam’s toes. He didn’t realize how much he missed summers at the pond, but the feel of that cold sludge on his skin made his chest tighten.
He approached the edge of the water. Panicked squeaks preceded small splashes. Sam wasn’t worried about the frogs escaping into the water and out of reach. The ones he wanted were along the edge, burrowed in the mud. It seemed the larger frogs took the mild southern winters far more seriously than their smaller counterparts.
Grass swished. Roshan took a few more steps closer and stood on his toes.
“Don’t get too close, the ground is mushy.” Water lapped at Sam’s ankles and water lilies bunched together. The chill of winter left in the pond chased goosebumps up his legs. He made sure Roshan hadn’t wandered too close before starting his search. Sam pushed up the sleeves of his shirt.
Hopefully, this would be like riding a bike, and he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.
And why he felt the need to show off stupid frog catching skills, he had no idea.
Sam submerged his hands under the thick grass and
water lily stems. He burrowed his way down to where the roots twisted with rotting detritus packing the bank. Sticks brushed his fingertips, leaf fragments glued to his skin. Sam gouged out muddy clumps, searching for the tell-tale lump.
The smooth skin of a bullfrog pushed against his fingers. He twisted his hands, trapping it against the bank, digging in his grip enough to hang onto its slippery body but without hurting it.
Sam lifted the bullfrog out of the water along with decaying reeds.
Roshan whooped, then promptly covered his mouth. “Sorry.”
Sam started up the bank. With his hands full of kicking bullfrog, he couldn’t use his arms for balance, so he jammed his toes into the softened ground until the ground leveled out.
“Oh, wow.” Roshan reached out.
The bullfrog bellowed and flailed its back legs.
Roshan jerked his hand back. “Will it bite?”
“No.” Sam almost laughed but remembered Roshan probably didn’t have much experience with frogs. “Go ahead, touch it.”
“Where?”
“Try the head.” Sam tilted the frog forward. Its neck inflated, and it belched out another complaint.
Roshan laughed. “He doesn’t sound very happy.”
“Probably isn’t.”
Roshan touched a finger to its nose, and it strained in Sam’s grip. The frog settled again, and Roshan ran a featherlight touch over the top of its head. He screwed up his mouth. “It’s slimy.”
“Yeah. They’re amphibians, and their skin has to stay moist because they breathe through it.”
“Oh.” Roshan tilted his head down, meeting the bullfrog eye to eye. “Don’t worry, we’ll let you go.” He glanced up at Sam. “You are letting it go, right?”
“Yup.” As soon as Roshan was done looking it over, Sam would toss it back in the pond.
Roshan touched each foot, then its belly. By the time he was done, the frog had pretty much given up and hung limp in Sam’s grip, its throat fanning every breath.
“Okay, you can let it go now.” Roshan stepped back.
Sam turned the frog toward the pond and set it in the grass.
It didn’t move.
“Is it okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
Roshan waved his hands at the frog. “Shoo, go.”
The frog turned around.
“I think it likes you.”
Roshan squatted and petted the frog on its head. It still made no attempt to jump away. Roshan nudged it back to where it faced the pond again, then gave it a little push. For a moment, Sam was sure it was going to stay, then it sprung forward, clearing a good six feet of ground, and plopping into the sludge edging the bank.
Sicarii 2 Page 14