Yield

  Jay looked bemused. “I bet you’ll turn into a gorgeous black swan once it grows out.”

  Sami growled and yanked him closer. “You can’t sweet-talk me without suffering the consequences.”

  “I hope not,” Jay challenged. “A stylish haircut better not mean a personality change.”

  Sami gripped Jay’s face and squeezed until the kissable lips parted and he possessed him hungrily. Jay moaned and returned the kiss with equal fervor, his soft tongue questing. They inhaled each other’s breath, and Sami lost himself in the familiar taste, all the while grinding madly against the hard body pressing into him.

  As their stiffening cocks collided, Sami’s resolve to maintain control over this reunion was shattered. He wanted to ease back into a relationship, one with a better understanding of their mutual needs, but Jay’s singular ability to turn Sami’s brain to mush was messing with his plans. Peter’s advice was abandoned in light of his ravenous desire to reclaim what had been his.

  Still and all, Sami made one last attempt to get things back on track. “Do you want to discuss our next move before we lose our shit?”

  Jay’s eyes were bright with anticipation. “We have the weekend to talk. Take me upstairs or fuck me right here—I’ve waited long enough.”

  “Ditch the clothes.”

  “That’s more like it.” Jay murmured, pulling up his sweater and tossing it aside. He toed off his shoes, unzipped his jeans, and pushed them down his legs. Sami’s sharp inhale upon seeing him commando made Jay pause for a second. Sami could have sworn a triumphant glimmer sparked in those bright blue eyes before Jay pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it by his feet.

  “Follow me,” Sami commanded.

  Instead of taking the stairs up to his bedroom, Sami led Jay down to the basement. Thanks to the impromptu striptease, his normally smooth gait was hampered by the constriction in his pants, but he wanted Jay in position before he tore off his own clothes. The cooler temps and familiar atmosphere of his homegrown dungeon made his skin prickle with the prospect of what lay ahead.

  “I love what you’ve done to the place,” Jay quipped.

  He’d had the floor and walls finished since Jay’s last visit, and now the room was utilitarian instead of menacing. His gym paraphernalia still took up one side of the space, but he’d moved the office equipment upstairs and added a few more BDSM items—the whipping post and wooden A-frame were brand new—to his existing collection. Jay could provide input on his own requirements once they had a chance to talk. He had hoped to explain this over dinner, but it would have to wait.

  Sami whirled at Jay’s glib remark. “You’re pretty sassy, all things considered.”

  “Turns out I’m remarkably resilient.”

  Sami looked at him approvingly. This wasn’t the same man who’d left in shambles six weeks ago. Jay was watchful, to be expected given their location, but he still sported an impressive hard-on. Noticeably absent was the desolation shadowing him like a phantom.

  Rino had enumerated all the positive steps Jay had taken since leaving the order, but he didn’t sugarcoat the rest. Jay was seeing some new guy who didn’t have the first clue how to handle him. Was he the reason for the newfound confidence or did shedding the cassock account for this lighter mood?

  “I’m not the only one who’s changed,” Sami remarked.

  “Do you like this reincarnation?”

  Sami didn’t reply but slowly circled Jay, reaching out to touch the slight bruising on his back.

  “Looks like you’re still dating your belt.”

  “For lack of anything better.”

  “I thought you had a new boyfriend?”

  “You thought wrong.”

  “So you have missed me.”

  Sami reached for Jay’s cock and twirled his thumb around the bulbous head, now slippery with ooze. Shuddering, Jay’s eyelids fluttered, and he opened his mouth in a silent scream.

  “You don’t get to come until I give you permission.”

  Jay whimpered and Sami squeezed. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Sami’s cock gave a hard pulse.

  He traced the jagged S underneath the golden chest hair, a potent reminder of an ill-conceived cutting scene.

  “I can fix this,” Sami said. “Make it look more like a tat than a scratch.”

  “How?”

  “Cutting over the scar with a scalpel, and rubbing in permanent ink before wiping the wound with a disinfectant. The ink seeps under the skin and the result is everlasting. Decide on the color if you want a repair.”

  Jay’s eyes widened. “Where’d you learn this technique?”

  “At Heaven’s Gate.”

  Frowning, Jay asked, “You’ve been going to the club?”

  “For research purposes only.”

  “Take me the next time.”

  “It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Let’s get back to the business in my hand,” Sami said, palming Jay’s drooping boner. “Can I blindfold you and tie you up?”

  Jay nodded.

  “Use a flogger on you?”

  Jay’s cock grew plumper with each of Sami’s questions. “Yes.”

  “Come on.” Sami took Jay’s hand and walked him toward the new whipping post. It had attached leather cuffs, for ease of purpose, and he positioned Jay before reaching for the traveling sleep mask. It allowed a tiny bit of light through the corners, so this first deprivation scene wouldn’t be as daunting. He’d never blindfolded Jay before or tied him to a whipping post. Peter would have scolded him for using too many firsts at one time, but Sami could read Jay’s body language, and he was certain whatever nerves were in play would easily be overcome by other, more urgent needs.

  “Are you doing okay?” he asked after he’d positioned the mask.

  Jay nodded.

  “I wanna hear it.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “We’ve never discussed this before, but you need to pick a safeword.”

  “So you’ll stop if I use it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not necessary.”

  Sami moved to release the cuffs and Jay exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

  “This isn’t happening unless we stick to protocol.”

  “Since when do you care about rules?”

  “I’m trying to do right by you,” Sami said patiently. “I’ve learned a lot since our last meeting. Back then, I was a reckless bastard, and now I know there’s a better way. Humor me and go with the flow?”

  “Promise you won’t go soft on me.”

  “I’ll make you bleed, but we have to set limits.”

  “Why?” Jay asked again. “I have a high tolerance for pain.”

  “Precisely.” Sami gripped the back of Jay’s neck. “I know how much you require to get you off, but one of us has to be in charge.”

  “How about I just tell you to stop when I can’t take any more?”

  “Choose a word.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Try again,” Sami deadpanned.

  “I’m losing my boner over this bullshit,” Jay snapped.

  Sami glanced down and realized Jay was right. He smacked him forcefully on the meatiest part of his lightly furred ass and a couple more times after that, increasing the pressure with each strike. He only stopped when Jay’s cock looked like an iron spike again.

  “Better,” he purred, rubbing the fiery handprints.

  “More?”

  “You still haven’t picked a word.”

  “Lucifer.”

  “What about him?”

  “I’ll use it for my fucking safeword.”

  “Good choice,” Sami agreed. “You call Lucifer and everything stops.”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me get the flogger,” Sami said, rubbing Jay’s warm ass again.

  He discarded his clothes and stood in front of the rack he’d purchased for what he hoped to be a growing collection of whips. He�
�d bought three to start: a multi-tailed cat, a horsewhip, and a bamboo cane. He would add more once he got proficient. His erection was a distraction, and he gave his cock a punishing twist to get himself under control. He wasn’t about to blow a perfectly good load on the floor when he had a beautiful mouth ready and able to finish the job.

  Reaching for the cattail, Sami let the suede strips run through his fingers, remembering Peter’s short lecture on floggers. Suede was deceivingly soft and one tended to forget how it abraded if used without restraint. Sami had practiced on his own thighs, and he knew what it would take to split the skin, instead of leaving a nice red stripe. He hoped this would satisfy Jay for the moment. They could move on to more dangerous whips as he gained experience. His goal was to use the cane at some point, but Peter had warned him it was a lethal weapon in the wrong hands.

  “You need to start slow,” Peter cautioned. “Although you’ve had rough sex before, this is a different dynamic. Hands and teeth can’t compare with sharps and whips. Get used to each other again—especially in this guilt-free environment—before you go crazy with dangerous toys. Learn to read his body language so you know when his endorphin level is so high the pleasure eclipses the pain. It’s at this point when things can go wrong.”

  “Why would he keep silent and risk permanent damage?”

  “Weren’t we in the same room when Master Lawrence talked about manipulative masochists? Jay won’t safeword unless you force his hand. He’ll be having too much fun, and you’ll get carried away, and the next stop will be the emergency room.”

  Sami nodded. “He’ll let me do anything I want.”

  “Exactly,” Peter agreed. “You have to control the scene. If you care for Jay, and I think you do, then remember this isn’t a one-off. Learning how to trust each other is more important than anything else.”

  “You put a lot of faith in me, Doc.”

  “You knew when to stop in the army. I’m confident you’ll show the same restraint.”

  Sami squeezed his eyes shut to get Peter’s voice out of his head. He approached the whipping pole and studied Jay’s bruises, which were faded but still recognizable.

  “When was the last time you used the belt?”

  “About a week ago.”

  The image of red stripes crisscrossing the blueish-gray spots sent a signal straight to his cock, and he pinched the base, hoping to tame the pesky beast. Still firm but under control, Sami flicked his wrist and let the suede tails fall over Jay’s right shoulder. The startled cry was more surprise than pain, and it prompted Sami to repeat the move, alternating shoulders. Jay was vibrating like a racehorse, raring to break through the gate and hit his stride.

  “Please,” he hissed. “Harder.”

  Sami smiled. He put a little more force behind his next stroke, and Jay’s satisfied grunt gave him permission to try a sling-shot stroke, which he’d also practiced. Holding the handle of the whip away from his body in one hand and the ends of the tails in his other hand, he moved the handle farther away until he could feel the tension. When he was ready to release, he flicked the handle toward Jay’s back with a snap, jerking it back before the strike. It was similar to locker shenanigans played with a wet towel.

  There were other methods, of course, and he planned to learn them all, but right then, the colorful stripes on Jay’s lower back and buttocks would do. He stopped to rest and moved closer to Jay, rubbing his palm over the reddened areas.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Good.”

  He had expected nothing less, and as he continued to caress the tender skin, Jay’s soft moaning filled the empty room. It was time he gave Jay some indication he was more than a fuck boy.

  “You’re doing great,” he said, kissing Jay’s nape.

  “I love you,” Jay declared.

  Chapter 28

  I held my breath for a few heartbeats, hoping Sami would let his guard down and reciprocate. Anything would be better than nothing, but he stepped away, and I was convinced I’d ruined the scene. Words of love had no place in a dungeon. The weighty silence was interspersed with his ragged breathing and my anxiety climbed. Was he having second thoughts? I had no way of gauging in this position. All I could do was wait for his next move. When it came in the form of another rough caress, I whimpered in relief. My skin was hypersensitive from the flogging and each pass of his callused palm over the inflamed area felt like a sandpaper rubdown, but I didn’t use my safeword. After weeks of self-service and uninspired sex, the sharp pain was a welcome change. I hissed when he spread lube in and around my asshole.

  “You okay?”

  His vigilance was a welcome departure from past behavior and could only mean one thing. Reassured, I gave him the go-ahead. “I’m fine.”

  Things moved swiftly after that.

  He positioned his sheathed cock against my asshole and shoved. Even lubed up, I felt the burning sensation as Sami stretched me to my limit before settling balls deep. He hurt so good I gasped, and before I could catch a breath, he began driving in and out of me like a piston. All I could do to help was push back. There was nothing tentative about Sami. He wanted me and took his pleasure without compunction. My cock was dripping, and I wailed and pleaded for some much-needed friction, but he didn’t reach for my cock. He was a master at edging with calculated cruelty, the pain and pleasure mounting until I thought I’d die.

  I wanted it all, craving release with dogged determination, but praying it wouldn’t come too soon. This orgasm was six weeks overdue and it had to be spectacular. To my fucked-up way of thinking, an out-of-control Sami was a win. Knowing I was the cause and effect of his intense pleasure was almost as meaningful as hearing the words.

  I let myself be used and escaped into a recurring fantasy, one where I was his captive, the convenient piece of ass here to serve at his pleasure. Submitting against my will was the ultimate high. To my fevered brain, if I didn’t consent, I shouldn’t be held responsible.

  Right then, I decided to take this scene to the next level, giving him permission to control everything including my next breath.

  “Put your arm around my neck,” I begged. “Please.”

  He sucked in air through his teeth but draped his forearm across my Adam’s apple. Clutching my hip with his free hand, he asked, “You sure about this?”

  My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth and I could only nod.

  “Say it,” he ordered gruffly.

  “Do it,” I croaked as my heart thundered louder and louder in my head.

  When Sami’s arm pressed against my windpipe, I got lightheaded from lack of oxygen, but the thrill of putting my life in his hands superseded the fear. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I struggled to breathe, but just before I blacked out, Sami finally grabbed my cock and loosened his hold on my throat while he pumped. I sucked in huge gulps of air as I came in a blinding flash of white lights. He groaned against my ear when he broke, the pulsing warmth in my core adding to the sensation. I slumped against the whipping pole, my heart pounding as I soaked up the pleasure from within and without. Sami was equally wrecked, covered in sweat and breathing harshly against my neck. The leather cuffs cut into my wrists as they now carried my full weight, but Sami must have realized this was happening because he hefted me slightly.

  “Can you stand while I set you free?”

  I nodded, unable to find my voice.

  He unbuckled the leather cuffs, removed my blindfold, and helped me to a padded bench where he laid me down gently.

  “Look at me,” he ordered, searching my face for any signs of distress.

  I stared into his eyes and soaked up the emotion he couldn’t articulate.

  “I’m fine.”

  “It was fucking intense,” he said, dropping to his knees and resting his head on my breastbone.

  I smiled, running my hands through his sweaty hair, too loopy to comment.

  “Come on,” Sami urged. “Let’s go upstairs where it’s more comfortable.”r />
  I was a little woozy when I sat up, but he circled my waist to help me stay upright, and we moved haltingly out of the basement. He got me settled on the sofa with throw pillows and a fleece blanket before going to the kitchen to get us drinks. Everything hurt—my back and butt cheeks were on fire—but it was a delicious sensation and would sustain me for a few days. Hopefully, we’d have a repeat before the sting completely wore off.

  He returned with two large bottles of cold water, and we gulped at them greedily.

  “Jay?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you for trusting me so unconditionally.”

  I blinked and gave him a questioning look. “Why on earth wouldn’t I trust you?”

  “I haven’t used the best judgment in the past.”

  “We’ve both made mistakes,” I admitted. “Me more than you.”

  “This isn’t a bad behavior contest.”

  “Still. I’m a grown man who’s been acting like an adolescent.”

  “I ordered a couple of pizzas,” Sami said in response to my admission. He drained his bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thought you could use the carbs.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ve lost weight.”

  “Another side-effect of poverty,” I said, snorting in disgust.

  “So what Rino said is true?” he asked, looking incredulous. “They didn’t give you a dime when you left?”

  “Not a penny.”

  He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

  “Think of it like prison. You get to keep whatever was yours originally. The rest of your possessions—the ones they paid for—are forfeited once you break away from the order. You walk out with nothing but the clothes on your back.”

  “Bastards.”

  “I’m so relieved to be gone—the lack of funds is only temporary.”

  “Tell me about your job?”

  “I’m a teacher’s aide at the moment. I have no work experience outside of my pastoral duties, and you’d be surprised how little value they place on anything I’ve done as a priest. It’ll take a while to get sorted, but I have the necessary degrees so I’m not worried. In truth, I’m not even sure I want to teach, but I don’t have the luxury to explore other options.”