by Jane Davitt
“Yes, Sir.”
“What if I were to whip you?” Liam’s other hand slid over his hip and around to the curve of his ass, stroking it so gently it made Jay tremble because he knew something painful was lurking. “I think a riding crop. With enough strength behind the blows, the skin splits open like butter. Yours is so smooth. I can picture what it would look like covered with thin welts, blood. I could slide my fingers through it and over the rest of you, cover you with my fingerprints, painted in your own blood.”
Jay’s hips rocked helplessly, his cock hard and hanging between his legs where it couldn’t get any physical stimulation. The thought of being marked with Liam’s fingerprints was new and shocking.
“Then,” Liam went on dreamily, not sounding like himself at all, “I’d use those same fingers, slick with your blood, to open you up. Push them inside your arse while you gasped and cried.”
Liam leaned to the left, trailing his thumb down the seam of Jay’s body to his hole, rubbing over it. Jay did his best to stay completely still and quiet because he didn’t want to break this spell. Liam had never touched him there before, not with his hand—with a plug, of course, and once with a long, thin dildo, but never like this. Against his hip, Jay could feel the solid press of Liam’s erection.
It didn’t matter that he knew Liam wouldn’t do any of those cruelly enticing things to him. When he was jerking off, darkly violent fantasies painting the blackness behind his eyes red, he knew they weren’t real either, but he still came hard. And with Liam’s finger breaching him—a dry, rough thrust, shallow enough to make Jay’s muscles lock with the need to push back, get more—anything felt possible.
Liam bit Jay’s shoulder, not a token bite, a love nip, but a bite. Jay felt the pain burrow inside his flesh and spread out. He was panting now, every breath audible, close to the line when exhaling would become the sounds he’d been forbidden to make.
A fingertip inside him… How did it feel for Liam? Jay guessed that Liam had done it to himself—but to another man? Maybe not. Given everything Liam had done to them, it was such a small act, but it felt significant in a way Jay was too strung out to puzzle over.
“You’re thinking again.” Liam licked the skin he’d bitten and kissed it, the softness of his lips lost in the second bite that did draw a cry from Jay. It hurt, a raw pain that made him want to submit, roll over, expose his belly to the wolf savaging his flesh. His small disobediences, his rebellions—they were all meant to force Liam into subduing him, but Liam always pushed them aside as irrelevant, working at his own pace.
They’d told Liam no blood, no scarring, and his trust in Liam was strong enough for him to know without looking that no blood would be welling up from the teeth marks. But God, he wanted it to.
“If I let you say one word, what would it be?”
Jay picked one from the dozens swirling through his head. “Harder.” Then he added “Please, Sir,” even if he knew he’d pay for it.
“If I bite you harder, you’ll bleed. And those two extra words will cost you, Jay.”
“I don’t care. Make me,” Jay whispered and closed his eyes, waiting for the storm to break, because Liam had really strong views on subs who tried to top from the bottom.
“Make you bleed or make you care?” Liam kept returning to the bite mark he’d made, scraping his teeth over it, digging them in. His finger slid free, and Jay whimpered with loss.
“Both, Sir. Sir, please—”
His cock and balls hung heavy between his legs. He wanted to sink to the floor and rub along the soft nap of the carpet, abrading the sensitive skin until, yeah, until it broke and bled, staining the carpet so that Liam would look at it and remember…
“You’re talking too much,” Liam told him. “Scream instead.”
His hand slid between Jay’s legs, an intimate caress that ended with Liam’s hand cupping, then crushing Jay’s balls.
God, it hurt, and Jay did scream. He couldn’t have kept from screaming no matter how hard he’d tried. It was the deep, stomach-twisting kind of pain that made him empty his lungs and his abdominal muscles turn to stone. The scream tore at his throat, and he lost the ability to support his weight, arms collapsing and dropping him face-first toward the floor. Somehow Liam managed to get an arm under his chest and catch him, keeping him partially upright.
Jay turned his face to Liam’s upper arm and breathed against the finely woven shirt, openmouthed, the fabric dampening with moisture. He couldn’t keep from moaning softly as the pain faded; he knew from previous experience that it was the kind of hurt that went from agony to moderate discomfort and then a steady ache that would last for an hour or more regardless of whether he was allowed to come or not. There were tears on his cheeks he couldn’t remember having shed, and his dick felt hot and touch starved.
“Ssh,” Liam murmured, and Jay realized he was still crying.
A twitch of his hips brought the head of his cock into contact with Liam’s hand. He shuddered and made the motion again, knowing he’d be punished for that too. It just felt so good, and he needed to feel good.
Liam didn’t move at first. Then, after a long moment, he rotated his hand so the palm was upward and lightly cupping Jay’s cock. That felt even better, and Jay whined. “It’s all right,” Liam whispered and closed his fingers around Jay’s erection.
If nothing else, Jay had done what Liam wanted him to do—stopped thinking. He was too busy losing himself in the sensation of Liam’s hand on his cock, stroking slowly from base to tip. Too slowly, but when he tried to get Liam to move faster, he ended up with another bite on his shoulder, this one lower than the last. He was going to have a whole collection of marks, beautiful marks left on him by Liam’s hands and teeth. God, he was going to come.
Liam took his hand away, and that hurt worse than anything he’d ever done to Jay, anything anyone had ever done. His body hung, suspended between the onrush of pleasure and the memory of pain and unable to move in any direction because Liam wasn’t fucking touching him.
Even in that moment when he wanted to lash out and make Liam touch him, Jay retained enough awareness of what Liam was to curb his tongue. “Please, Sir, please. I’ll scream for you. I’ll beg. I’ll lick your feet.” He’d wanted to do that an eternity of moments ago, cloud the polished surface of Liam’s shoes with his breath and feel that sense of rightness clear his head as he abased himself.
“I know. I can make you do all of that any time I want it from you.” Liam’s hand was still there, hovering as if he didn’t really want to take it away.
The implication was clear, or at least it seemed so to Jay, drunk with lust and pain. Liam wanted something he couldn’t order Jay to do—but there was nothing Jay wouldn’t have agreed to right then. His body was on the rack, his mind crammed full of Liam’s fantasies as well as his own until he felt like he was going to shatter like cold glass in hot water if someone didn’t do something to him soon.
So instead of taking, he gave, twisting his body around and dropping lower, kneeling with his head in Liam’s lap and the thrust of Liam’s cock right there to be mouthed through the fabric of his pants as eagerly, as adoringly as Jay would have licked Liam’s shoes.
Liam froze, and for a second or two, Jay thought he would be pushed away, reprimanded, maybe even sent away from Liam’s house and life. This was a line being crossed, even if Liam had crossed it first by wrapping his hand around Jay’s cock.
Then Liam groaned and grabbed on to Jay’s hair at the nape, keeping him where he was, and that was all the permission Jay needed. He pressed his lips to Liam’s zipper, blew hot air through the fabric until Liam shuddered. He used his mouth—mostly teeth, but a bit of tongue—to unfasten the top of the finely woven trousers and slide the zipper down. It was awkward, but he didn’t care. He wanted to taste Liam’s skin, cock, balls, inner thighs.
Liam growled. He tugged at Jay’s hair, pulling him away, and Jay made an imploring sound, but all Liam was doing was shoving his pa
nts down. “Tell me this is what you want,” he said harshly.
“I want this,” Jay gasped. “I want to suck you, Sir, please.”
“Do it.”
Apparently Liam had decided it wouldn’t be domlike to make noise, because he was totally quiet even when Jay swallowed him down. His breathing did some interesting stuff, though, so Jay took his cues from that, focused on listening to each little hitch and sigh. He licked all around the head, bathed the shaft, sucked on each ball in turn. Liam tasted kind of bitter, in a good way, and Jay was determined to get Liam off.
It had been a while since he’d had any cock but Austin’s in his mouth, and the memory of the two of them doing this for Patrick after their sessions had faded over the months. Nothing about this reminded him of those blowjobs anyway, given gratefully, respectfully, accepted as an unexpected but welcome gift.
Liam wasn’t going to pat his head afterward and murmur a mildly flustered but pleased thank-you.
Jay squirmed so that his cock dragged over the carpet, the soft-rough rub of the fibers spurring him on to be inventive. He loved sucking Austin’s cock, spinning out the experience until his lips were slick and numb, his jaw aching, sensations that he could take with him for hours, long after his body had forgotten and forgiven. This wasn’t going to take as long. Liam was so hard, so hungry that Jay guessed the only thing holding him back was the unfamiliarity of it being a man’s mouth on him.
No…his sub’s mouth. That, Liam had to be used to, right?
Jay took Liam in deep, then choked when Liam unexpectedly jerked his hips, driving his cock a crucial inch farther, the smallest of sounds finally escaping his mouth. He felt the darkly erotic threat to his ability to breathe again. As when his hair had been gripped tightly, the threat was open-ended, not a closed box, but it still thrilled him. He could always safe word, and if that failed him… But it wouldn’t, not with Liam.
He wasn’t sure what it was about this that got to him. Maybe it was the idea of someone having power over his most basic need, the inescapable necessity to draw air into his body every few seconds.
He relaxed, accepting Liam’s wish to fuck his mouth, encouraging him with soft moans, made so that Liam would feel their vibration along his shaft as much as anything. Liam thrust a few times and came, a rush of heat and salt flooding Jay’s mouth. He swallowed, licking at his lips to catch the taste. He could kiss Austin when he got home, slide his tongue along Austin’s and let him taste Liam too, share the sharp, powerful tang until Austin could get it firsthand at their next session.
The sessions would end differently now.
“Kneel up,” Liam said, his voice shaking. “Hands behind your back.”
The order surprised Jay. He opened his mouth and allowed Liam’s cock to slip free, getting a good look at it as Liam got unsteadily to his feet. It was lavishly wet with his spit, gleaming, long and thick enough to make him wonder what it would feel like in his ass.
The thought carried with it a flash of longing for Austin to be here with them, but he was too preoccupied with rising smoothly to his knees to explore the connection fully.
His dick stuck up, the tip beaded with fluid, the chafed skin on the underside burning warmly. He wanted to see it, but he’d been told to do something with his hands. Oh yeah, behind his back…
Before he could complete the transition to the position Liam had told him to take, Liam’s hand struck him across the face, a hard slap that rocked his head to the side.
“Hands…behind…your…back,” Liam said dully, each word weighted, separated by a pause as if Liam was struggling to say them but knew they had to be said.
He was too shocked to do more than grunt, an instinctive protest that died as the heat in his face rose and his balls tightened warningly. He could taste blood, a faint trace of it in his mouth, threading through the saliva. He’d cut the inside of his cheek on a tooth. No, Liam had done that when he’d slapped him across the face. Jay wasn’t entirely sure how Liam felt about the slap—he’d gone kind of quiet—but Jay spun the act the way he wanted it to be. Liam had slapped him contemptuously, dismissively, a sharp reprimand to a sub who’d failed to obey him perfectly, exercising his dominance. Yes, that was what had happened, just the way it had in so many of Jay’s fantasies. Oh fuck, no, he couldn’t come too soon again…
“Yes, Sir,” he said, hoping Liam would get his complete and utter approval of the way this scene was going.
“Close your eyes,” Liam said. “And don’t move.”
He obeyed those commands too, and a moment later heard Liam’s steps on the stairs. That came as a surprise and Jay almost peeked, but reminded himself there wouldn’t be anything to see except the empty room. He waited, skin prickling with anticipation, trying not to imagine what Liam might have planned.
The minutes felt like hours. It might have been ten minutes total before Liam returned. Something struck Jay’s chest, and he flinched, confused because he could tell Liam was barely inside the doorway.
“Open your eyes and put that on,” Liam ordered.
There was a leather cock ring on the rug in front of him. Jay picked it up and fastened it in place, gritting his teeth at the feel of the constriction.
“Wear that until you go to bed tonight,” Liam said. “Don’t touch yourself unless it’s absolutely necessary. Do you have any question about what that means?” He sounded angry.
“No, Sir,” Jay said.
“In the morning, put it on again. Wear it all day tomorrow until twenty-four hours from now. Adjust it if you must, but that’s all. You may not come until the twenty-four hours is up.” Liam looked at his watch, then waved dismissively. “Ten thirty tomorrow night. After that, what you choose to do is up to you.”
Jay swallowed, confused by how abruptly the session had ended and the sudden change in mood. He’d made Liam mad, and he wasn’t sure how. He found it hard to believe Liam was angry about a blowjob—for one thing, it had been a pretty great blowjob, and for another it seemed like a man who was comfortable playing dom to two gay subs wouldn’t be having a homosexual freak-out now. He waited for Liam to say something else, to explain.
Liam just stood there. “Well? Put on your clothes and go home.”
He should keep his mouth closed; he knew he should. But he couldn’t. “Should… Do you want me to—”
“For once in your life, Jay,” Liam said wearily, “just shut up and do as you’re told.” And he turned and left the room.
Chapter Thirteen
Austin sniffed experimentally through his nose after a night of mouth breathing, judging by the foul taste coating his tongue. He found that one nostril was clear. It was a whole new beautiful world. He sat up in bed, his head spinning, but the pounding agony of a sinus headache reduced to a whisper.
Thank God for extra-strength cold meds and the restorative power of eight hours of sleep. He drew a deep breath and called out, “Jay! Get in here. I can breathe!”
He sounded interestingly husky, not hoarse, and when he coughed it didn’t trigger a prolonged fit of even more coughing. Dying was officially canceled.
He knew Jay was awake; he’d heard Jay moving around in the kitchen area making breakfast, but he’d drifted back to sleep again without registering the fact that he could smell coffee. When Jay didn’t appear, he yelled his name again,
Jay stuck his head around the door, looking bleary-eyed and wearing sweats and a faded T-shirt. “Shouting. That’s a good sign, right?”
Austin beamed at him. “Hey, you. I feel better. Not, like, ready to scale tall buildings, but I can breathe again.”
“Heard you.” Jay came into the room, smothering a yawn. “Good. Great.”
“Yeah.” Austin felt deflated, but when Jay sat down on the bed and gave him an apologetic smile, sleepy and sweet as sugar, he forgave him for popping his bubble. “You don’t look so good. God, I didn’t give you my germs, did I?”
“You know I never catch colds.” Jay reached down to his groin an
d winced. He made a careful adjustment to his junk.
It was something Austin would’ve been happy to help him with when he’d had some coffee and was all the way awake, and when he’d had a nap.
“Ow.”
“Ow?” Austin peered down the bed, mildly curious. Everything looked normal as far as he could see. “Aftereffects of last night? Sorry I was dead to the world when you got back in. I wanted all the juicy details, but I knocked myself out with cold meds.”
“Juicy?” Jay sighed and plucked restlessly at the rumpled sheet. “Not sure that’s the right word. It was short and not sweet. I fucked up, Austin. I told you it was a bad idea me going by myself. I need you there to make sure I don’t do something stupid.”
Austin had settled himself against the pillows, but that made him sit up, alarm and concern dousing his euphoria at being on the mend, along with a dollop of guilt. He’d pushed Jay into doing the session solo, and his motives hadn’t been entirely unselfish. He’d wanted to sleep in peace so much, and Jay clattering about overhead had made that impossible. With Jay in that edgy mood, it’d seemed like a win-win situation to shoo him off to play. Make that a win-win-win. “Jay, whatever it was, we can fix it. Spill.”
“It was so fucking good at first.” Jay moaned, his eyes squeezing closed, his hands clutching the sheet beneath him. “Wish you’d been there to see it, hear the things he was saying to me.” He opened his eyes again and turned his head toward Austin, his dark gaze earnest. “You know how he never touches us? Not those kind of touches, anyway, but there’s always this feeling that he wants to; then he does something like kissing us on the shoulder when he thinks we won’t notice because our ass is on fire, and it makes us feel…”
“Twitchy, frustrated and confused,” Austin supplied and sighed. They’d talked about mentioning it to Liam but decided to hold off and hope he eventually got the message that they didn’t mind where he put his hands during a session or if he showed them some affection in the heat of the moment. Liam wasn’t a grope-happy creep like Niall. They trusted him. “Not as confused as he is. That man isn’t all the way straight, Jay. I’m not complaining, not at all, but he isn’t. He can’t be. Bi, maybe, yeah. Straight, no fucking way.”