by Jo Davis
His ass cheeks were parted, and he flinched as cold gel dribbled over his hole. As she smeared the stuff and then inserted a finger into his channel, lubricating him, he tried to concentrate on relaxing. On the glide of the digit working his hole, stretching him.
“Lord, he’s tense,” Emma commented, adding another finger.
“Finish stretching him, baby, and then choose one of these to fill him. We want him to really feel what’s going to happen next.”
Fill him with what? A plug or a dildo? If anything, he tensed even more in spite of his arousal. He didn’t know how to surrender and simply enjoy himself, and frustration made his chest ache.
Finished with the lube, Emma withdrew her fingers. After a moment, they were replaced with the blunt end of something slick and cool. Metallic? She began to guide the instrument slowly into his hole, past the ring of muscle clamping down on the invader in self-defense.
“Easy,” Blaze said, touching his back. “If you don’t relax a little, she could hurt you with the plug. It’s probably a bit bigger than you’re used to.”
Taking a deep breath, he concentrated on letting his muscles go limp. He pictured himself opening for her, a vessel for her to fill at her whim. It helped some and the plug inched inside, spearing his flesh, until it finally slid all the way in and the base fit snugly at his entrance.
“How does it feel? Are you uncomfortable?” Blaze asked.
“Yes, sir, a little. But in a good way,” he added. “I’m so full.”
The other man gave a husky laugh. “You’ll be more than that very soon.” Retrieving something from the table, the Dom went to stand behind Bastian, switching places with Emma, who now watched. The man rubbed something flat over Bastian’s ass cheeks. “Do you know what this is?”
“A paddle?”
“Exactly. A wooden one, in fact. Do you know what I’m going to do with it?”
“Um… spank me?” No fucking way. He pulled at his bonds, suddenly wanting to be loose.
“That’s right. I’m going to turn that sexy ass of yours red, paddle you until you scream. Until you break free of the pain and sadness, just let it all go. I’m going to make you fly.”
“What? No! Let me up!” Anger, black and unreasonable, bubbled in his veins. It didn’t make sense and he didn’t know where it came from. He knew only that he wanted away from here. He didn’t have to do this, expose his soul.
“Can’t do that unless you say your safe word. That’s how it works.” He gave Bastian’s ass a light smack, experimenting. Or getting Bastian used to the feel of the plug stimulating his hole.
“Let me up!” he shouted.
“Nope, sorry. Use your safe word.” He waited, as though knowing Bastian wouldn’t use it, but giving him time anyway. And dammit, the bastard was right. “We both know you need this. I’m going to help you. Trust me.”
Another smack, this one with a bit more sting. He writhed, cursing, yanking at his bonds.
“Go ahead,” Blaze encouraged. “Let it all out. Get rid of the anger.”
Another whack and another, stronger, with a real bite of pain that was probably reddening his ass, as promised.
“I don’t want this!”
“Yes, you do. You need it, and I’m here.”
More hits, coming regularly now, shooting electric currents of pain and pleasure to his poor, bound cock and balls. He started to pant.
“I’m so fucking pissed!”
“Yes.”
“He hurts me every goddamned day!”
“I know.”
“He doesn’t love me!” His agonized shout reverberated off the walls.
“He does. Give him time,” Blaze said firmly. His hand remained steady, delivering the blows, heating the tortured flesh.
“Nooo…” Tears streamed down his face, but he was hardly aware of them. His body seemed to rise and float.
Can’t do this. Can’t…
And then something broke inside him. Cracked wide open like a ripe melon, and all the tension, rage, and pain flowed from him like blood from a wound. Drained through his feet into the floor. He let the tidal wave of ecstasy wash over him and became nothing but willing flesh. A slave to the delicious torment of the blows that drove the plug to graze his prostate, making his cock and balls swell to near bursting in their confines.
So good.
“Oh, oh yes,” he moaned. “God, yes.”
After a few more swats, the blows stopped. “I believe he’s there.”
“He is, sir.”
Deft hands released his wrists and helped him to straighten, guided him to a lower, wider padded bench and urged him to lie on his back. Scooted him to the end so that his rear was accessible. He needed, so badly. Where were they?
His thighs were parted, and through a red haze he saw the Dom kneel between his splayed knees. The man grasped the end of the plug and slowly fucked Bastian with the toy, prolonging the torture until he whimpered, unable to form words.
“So pretty. In just a minute, that’s going to be my cock splitting you open, making you writhe and beg.” With that, the Dom carefully withdrew the plug, set it aside. Then he rustled a small packet, rolled on a condom. He cupped Bastian’s ass in his hands and raised him, pressing the large, blunt head to the opening. “While I fuck you slow and easy, driving you insane with the need to come, you’re going to eat my sub’s sweet pussy until she comes on your face. Got that?”
Beyond speech, he nodded.
The head, much bigger than the plug, breached his hole. He groaned helplessly as the huge dick pressed inside, owning him. Long, toned legs straddled his head and Emma’s pink pussy lowered to his mouth.
Obediently, he lapped the sweet petals of her sex, eager to bring her pleasure. He hoped she enjoyed what he was doing, because much of his attention was captured by the burn of Blaze’s big cock taking possession of him. The long, slow slide made him shiver, his desire almost too much for his body to contain. Once the man’s cock was seated deeply, fully to the hilt, it held there, letting him drink in the sensation of being owned. Under another’s control.
Bastian moaned, continuing to lick and suckle Emma’s pussy as Blaze began to fuck him in easy strokes. Just enough to keep him on edge, straining toward an orgasm he couldn’t achieve until the Dom released his bound shaft and balls. Decadent torture.
Above him, Emma started to wriggle and murmur little words of encouragement, her release obviously near. He tongued her clit, lashing it with fervor, and she shuddered, crying out. He ate her honey, catching every drop, until she was spent and climbed off. Distantly, Bastian heard her voice as Blaze began to fuck him with more force.
“God, that’s hot. Fuck him hard, sir!”
“Goddamn, he’s tight. So fucking perfect, so beautiful. How could anyone not want to snatch him up, keep him forever?”
Emma’s reply was lost as the man rammed into him without mercy. Fucked him hard, fast, and deep, heavy balls slapping against his ass.
“Please,” he begged. “I need to come! ”
“I need to come, sir.”
“Please let me come, sir!”
“Soon,” the man growled, never ceasing his pace. A few more powerful thrusts and the Dom stiffened, plunging deep, cock jerking.
Heat filled Bastian’s ass as his own cock stabbed the air, seeking release. At last, Blaze eased out of him and began to undo the leather strap, freeing him. Tossing it aside and gripping Bastian’s cock, he said, “Come for me.”
With a cry, he spasmed. Pumped ropes of pearly cream onto his own abdomen as Blaze fisted his shaft. Milked him of every drop. When the last of the shudders faded, his eyes drifted closed. He was so heavy, melted. Couldn’t move if he wanted to.
“Poor baby is exhausted,” Emma said, kissing his cheek.
“He’s dealt with too much these past few weeks. I think he needed this, and that it helped him at least a little.”
Bastian tried to agree that it had, but his lips refused to work.
/> “Can we keep him?”
“I wish, angel,” Blaze said. “But his heart belongs to someone else.”
“I know.” She sighed.
He couldn’t stay awake, but the real regret in their voices brought him a measure of peace and warmth as he fell into his dreams.
The limo wove through the streets toward Katrina’s condo at a sedate crawl. Michael’s mind churned, thoughts tumbling one after the other.
You know I love you.
When you stop running, I’ll be here. Just like I always have been.
And then he’d gone home with Blaze and Emma. To get his ass reamed again, as his friend put it. Sure, the very night of the shooting, Michael had figured out that Bastian had been with the experienced Dom. But tonight was different. Tonight he’d gone with the couple to escape from Michael.
And that knowledge caused a strange, terrible ache in his chest.
“How long have you loved him?”
Michael started and peered at Katrina, who was seated next to him. There was no sense in pretending he didn’t know who she was talking about. “I don’t love him, except as my best friend.”
“Right. That’s why you look like you’ve just lost that best friend for good,” she said softly.
“He’s a grown man and can do as he likes, and so can I. We don’t hold each other back. We’re solid.”
“Michael—”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” he snapped. Instantly, he regretted being short with her, and relented. “Look, I know you’re concerned and only trying to help. So I will say that I know how Bastian feels, and he knows I can’t return his affections in the way he’d like.”
God, that sounded cold.
“Can’t you? Your reaction when he left with Blaze and Emma communicated something very different. Frankly, you looked like he’d just punched you.”
He’d felt like it, too. But he didn’t acknowledge it aloud.
“Well, he wasn’t very nice about it. He was deliberately trying to get a rise out of me.” That was the truth, though he knew he was avoiding the issue. Bastian had been cruel because he was lashing out in pain. I deserved it.
“He knew we were together, and he was hurt. You can’t imagine how guilty I feel for adding to his misery. I like Bastian… a lot.”
Something wistful in her tone caused him to study her face more closely. “You say that like you mean it more than as casual acquaintances.”
She was silent for a moment, then nodded. “I do. You should know I’m extremely attracted to him as well as to you. Actually, we almost had sex recently, but we got interrupted,” she confessed. “And I’m not certain what, if anything, to do about it.”
Christ. He wasn’t sure what part of that to tackle first. She’d almost had sex with Bastian? And she was attracted to both of them? Curiosity about her last thought got the better of him. “What would you do about it, if you could?”
Instead of answering directly, she countered with a question. “Have you ever been in a ménage relationship?”
His lips turned up. “I’ve had three-ways, but never anything resembling a relationship. And definitely not with another man involved.”
“Even Bastian, your best friend?”
“Of course not,” he said warily. “Why would I?”
“But you’ve known him for years, and you two are close.”
“Yes. What’s your point?”
She turned in her seat to face him, warming to the topic. “It just seems that two sexually charged men who’ve shared a big part of their lives together would have, at some point, shared a woman. Especially since you two are obviously close.”
“Well, I’m not comfortable with the thought of being… in a sexual situation with Bastian,” he said defensively.
“Exactly. And why is that, I wonder?” She sounded satisfied, as though he’d made her point.
He stared at her in the dark interior of the car, processing what she meant. “You’re implying I’ve avoided having a ménage with Bastian because I’m afraid I’ll develop feelings for him.”
“Or you’re afraid the feelings you already have, the ones you keep under lock and key, will out themselves.”
“That’s ridiculous.” But the protest had sprung from his lips too easily, and his voice had wavered. His heart pounded and his palms felt clammy. “Anyway, what are you trying to get at? You want a ménage with me and Bastian?”
Her voice lowered, her reply husky. “Would you be willing to consider the idea if I did?”
“I don’t—” He started to refuse. What stopped him, he wasn’t sure.
Taking advantage of his lapse, she scooted close, reached out, and placed a hand on his chest. “I’m a pretty direct person and I’m used to just coming right out with what I want or feel. Yes, I want to be with both of you at the same time.”
Even though he’d braced himself for the words, they still knocked him for a loop. “You — you want a ménage with us.”
“Yes.” Her smile was wicked, those gorgeous eyes sparkling, her touch searing him as her hand moved south. Down his belly to his crotch and the hardness that had come back to life there. “Picture me naked between you. Me, on my hands and knees, sucking his cock while I take yours from behind.”
“God,” he rasped. He could picture it just the way she described. Her pretty lips stretched around his friend’s shaft, wild red hair tumbling around her shoulders, Michael pumping her with long, glorious strokes.
Still rubbing his erection through his jeans, she leaned over and nibbled on his jaw. Kissed his temple. “Tell me where’s the harm in three people enjoying each other, Michael. I think Bastian would be game, and part of you is very much willing.”
Two orgasms tonight and his cock throbbed like he hadn’t had sex in a week. The picture she’d painted fired his blood and his imagination.
“You wouldn’t even have to touch him if you don’t want to,” she continued. “Many ménage relationships work just fine without the men having sex.”
“I… I let him blow me earlier,” he blurted. “Right here in the limo, on the way to get you.” Jesus, what had made him confess that?
She pulled back, eyes round. Then her mouth curved into a knowing smile. “So that’s why you two were acting weird. You loved it, and that scared the hell out of you. Am I right?”
He sighed. “Yeah. My best friend — a guy — sucked me off, and I fucking loved it. What am I supposed to do about it? I didn’t react well, and I said some cruel shit to him. He probably won’t forgive me after tonight.”
“He will. The man loves you. Anyone can see that.”
“He deserves better.”
“Then be the one to give him better. It’s easy.”
“I don’t know if I can,” he said honestly. “How do I explain? I’m not homophobic. I believe everyone has the right to love whomever they choose and I don’t have a problem with alternative lifestyles.”
“Then what’s the problem? What frightens you so much about being with Bastian?”
“I don’t know!”
“Michael… I think you do.”
“What, you’re a psychiatrist now?” He scowled.
“Simple deduction,” she said calmly. “You’re the most self-assured man I know, with the exception of your feelings for Bastian. I believe you haven’t let yourself recognize what’s holding you back. Would you like to come in?”
The limo slowed to a stop and he looked out to see that they’d arrived at her condo. “I would. Thanks.”
After helping her out, he gave the driver instructions to take the car home. He’d get a ride home later from one of the agents watching Katrina’s place. He fielded a brief pang of guilt for having his men stay out late to accommodate his evening, but reminded himself they were earning damned good hazard pay to do so.
As he walked Katrina to her door, his mind turned to her assertion regarding Bastian. What was holding him back? It wasn’t as though he had a terrible family histo
ry to blame. His parents were very open-minded, wonderful folks. No bad sexual experiences in his past, with a man or a woman, that he could point to as the culprit.
Quite simply, he was a straight man who was attracted to his best friend. Might even love him. And yes, goddammit, love him like that. Even in his head, he couldn’t put a finer point on the term.
So the issue was Michael’s and no one else’s. It was his internal struggle with the black-and-white man he’d always prided himself on being, and the man he was becoming. One he didn’t know at all, who was beginning to recognize that shades of gray could filter into a man’s life — and that maybe it was okay.
He had no clue how to handle the barrage of emotions. Not the least among them was the guilt that haunted him because he hadn’t loved Maggie the way she deserved. Not with the undying passion everyone believed. She was a good woman and a good friend, but the marriage had been a mistake. Her loss hurt so much because she’d deserved a husband who spent more time thinking about her than about repairing his strained friendship with Bastian.
In the end, he’d wronged them both.
“Are you coming in?”
Blinking, he realized he’d been standing on her threshold and she was holding the door open, waiting with a bemused expression. “Sorry. I was woolgathering.”
“Thinking about Bastian?”
He stepped in, and she closed and locked the door behind them. “And me.”
“And did you come to a conclusion?” Stepping close, she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“I think it comes down to an old dog and new tricks. Or something along those lines.”
“You’re not old, but I can help with the new tricks,” she whispered into his mouth.
He groaned, his musings put on hold. She was going to kill him. “Why don’t you show me?”
“My pleasure.”
Oh no. It’s all mine.
But he wasn’t about to argue.
* * *
Bastian woke and gazed into the darkness, disoriented. As his eyes adjusted, he remembered. Turning his head on his pillow, he could just see Blaze spooned around Emma in the moonlight on the other side of the huge bed. For a long moment, he stared at them, his throat suddenly burning.