by Neve Wilder
The heat of his hand melded with the heat of my skin, and I groaned in response. “Oh, Jesus…”
“If, at any time, you stop enjoying what we’re doing here or it becomes too much, you let me know. Green, yellow, red. Got it?”
I nodded an eager yes as he licked my earlobe. “I know the deal.”
“Good. Where are you right now?” Dane’s fingertips moved in light, taunting circles over my hot skin.
Did I like this? Did I want to continue? I struggled to connect different threads of thought, getting tangled up in the heat spreading through my body, the sting in my asscheeks, and my aching cock.
But the answer was obvious. “Green as a fucking…” I rasped out as he kneaded my cheek again. “I don’t know, just very green. Green all the way.”
Three sharp smacks followed in rapid succession, lighting up my ass so fast I didn’t have even a second to relax before the next one. And when the third fell and nothing came after, I became hyperaware of the way my skin buzzed and tingled in the aftermath. I waited for another but instead felt Dane shifting around, his weight leaving the backs of my thighs. Then came faint pressure against my cheeks and an explosion of wet heat against my hole. I cried out in surprise and pleasure, hips lurching as his tongue made another pass, and then another that counteracted the sting still zinging through my ass. Silky, smooth, and soothing, he licked around my rim and I clutched the sheets, a rivulet of sweat running down my temple, stinging the corner of my eye. My limbs went loose and heavy under the steady roll of his tongue until a dart of pain lanced through me and I lurched again. He’d flicked my damn hole and I clenched so hard I almost came all over his fifty-million thread count sheets out of pure reflex.
“God,” I gasped, squirming. “What the…is this normal?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. What’s normal for you?” Dane sounded amused—and maybe a little pleased with himself—as he traced a thumb around my rim, then slid a finger inside me and found my prostate. My mouth fell open with pleasure that rang through my body in shrill, demanding notes.
“Not this. It’s like…” I sighed and gave up. “Never mind, I can’t even explain it.” Couldn’t figure out how to put into words the way the disparate sensations and touches wove together and split apart in varying hierarchies of pleasure.
“You like it.” It was almost a question, but not quite, punctuated by an additional finger inside me, another press of his lips to my flushed asscheek. This particular mix of tenderness wasn’t something I’d seen in his videos, or really in any of the other ones I watched and that was its own pleasure, a sense of comfort that wrapped around me and, if I was honest, reached other parts of me where it had no business being. Dirty hot wedding hookup, I reminded myself. Nothing more.
“A lot,” I groaned out as he teased my prostate again and then removed his fingers.
Dane rose swiftly from the bed, and I turned my head to the side to track him, noting the way he adjusted himself with satisfaction.
“I saw that,” I told him.
He flashed a wry smile. “Think I’m immune to a beautiful man in my bed letting me have my way with him?”
“Maybe a little, yeah. I figure there have probably been plenty.” But I was thrilled a man who was cut with the precision of a Baccarat vase had called me beautiful.
“Not as many…” He raked his teeth over his lower lip, cutting himself off. “It’s never the same thing twice.”
“My sex life begs to differ,” I quipped.
“We’ll see about that.” I caught a glimmer of a smile as he reached into one of the drawers and withdrew a thin rattan cane. “You’re driving back tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, why?” I collapsed onto my stomach and folded my arms under my chin, watching him. The sting from his smacks to my ass had faded to an addictively tingly warmth.
“I don’t want you to be completely miserable while driving.”
“Just a little, then?”
“Just enough,” he corrected, the low timbre of his voice coaxing another tremble of anticipation from me.
As Dane returned to the bedside, cane in hand, I rose onto all fours again, tensing as I waited for the first strike. He sketched the cool tip of the implement from the nape of my neck to the top of my ass, then let it rest in the dip of my back as he retrieved another cane that looked exactly like the one that had been in the travel kit.
Just having the other cane lying across my back had my nerve endings gearing up in jittery excitement. “Why two?”
“Consider this one the exclamation point,” he said, thwapping it ever so lightly against the meat of my shoulder.
Even still, it bit into my skin and made me flinch. “Ow!”
“Exactly.” He laughed like the merry sadist I suppose he was and then splayed his hand over my back, urging me down onto my elbows. “Mmmmm, nice,” came that pleasant rumble again as I complied. I decided I liked those noises from him as much as I liked being the cause of them.
But I still yelped as the first strike hit my hamstrings. It was the pressure of impact I became aware of first, before the whoosh of air currents registered belatedly. A searing prickly sensation zipped up and down my legs before ricocheting through my balls.
Sharper in intensity, the next blow fell across the meat of my ass, bringing heat with the impact. I curled my fingers into the sheets, gritting my teeth as Dane dragged the cane over the spot he’d just hit, then rested it against the skin right below with a little pressure before the next strike came.
“Jesus,” I barked out. He wasn’t even laying down back-to-back lashes, so there was plenty of pause in between for the sting and heat to saturate my ass and pool in my balls. And possibly for me to regret my decision. But when Dane’s hand smoothed over my ass again, his finger drawing lightly, teasingly, over the places he’d smacked me, I knew I wouldn’t. The way he mixed tender touches with the brute force of the cane kept me on edge, and though it wasn’t exactly pleasant, there was something about the rush of endorphins percolating through me that I loved.
“Twelve is our number today. We’re on two. Count the rest for me.”
“What comes after two, again?”
In an instant, Dane’s arms were around my torso, pulling me back to his chest, the fabric of his trousers like sandpaper on my ass, especially when he pressed his thick erection into my crack. “Three, sweetheart.” With his free hand, he fisted my cock and gave it a couple of tight, smooth strokes that had me writhing in his grip. “Then you’re going to ride my cock.”
“Oh my god, yes,” I breathed as he released me to the bed again. I managed a “three” and the next strike buzzed my ass like a rude flyby from a colony of angry bees. I tried to jerk a look aside to see if he’d switched out canes because that one had definitely felt different. “Was that—”
Thud. Sting. Heat. Sting. It was scorching bliss.
“What’s the count, Cole?”
“Five,” I whispered, tightening my hold on the sheets. They were already damp from my palms.
“Focus on that, not on what I’m using.”
Six, seven, and eight came in a steady pattern with long pauses between that was damn near trance-inducing in its repetition before nine, ten, and eleven cracked over my upper thighs in quick succession and had me bowing up again.
It hurt. It hurt like a motherfucker.
But something else was happening, too. The stinging and the heat and the impact melded together, playing against each other and creating a warm unison burn that reached all the way to my fingertips and sensitized my entire body. He was like a goddamn viper with those canes, striking with the sweetest poison of precision. Every blow tensed me and in the interstitial spaces between his swats, I stopped anticipating and instead began to focus on the intense relaxation of muscle that followed each blow. There was a mellowness to it that didn’t make sense but felt incredible. By ten, I didn’t feel the blows so much as hear them. My body was alight with endorphins that whizzed throug
h me at a frenetic pace. I felt precum leaking from my cock, and though I was stuck on the cusp of orgasm, it wasn’t unpleasant. It was…god, it was exactly what I’d always dreamed of.
“Twelve. Fuuuucccccckkkk.” The curse came muffled by the Dane-scented comforter I’d smooshed my cheek against. Then all was silent.
I drifted on the endorphin rush and the hum of my skin.
Dane’s hand moved over my asscheeks, heat on heat, the burn of his palm joining the fray. His fingers slipped inside me and I bit out another curse.
“I’m gonna come,” I warned.
“You won’t. Not until I’m inside you.”
He sounded so confident that I was determined to keep my orgasm at bay and show him how good I could be. I started to push my ass in the air to give him better access, but Dane flattened his palm on my lower back and urged me back down.
He eased onto the bed and put his back to the headboard. The second he reached for me, I scrambled up his thighs and went for his zipper like a fiend, drawing it down when he didn’t stop me. His cock popped free, impossibly stiff, the tip glossy and swollen. I couldn’t wait for it to be inside me, hammering my prostate into oblivion.
“Suck it.”
I took him in my mouth eagerly, lapping up the salty flavor of his skin and dragging his pants lower over the tops of his thighs while his fingers knotted in my hair and guided my bobbing head. The pace was intoxicating as was the expression on his face, the tense set of his jaw, the steely hunger in his eyes.
“Fuck, I want inside you now.” In seconds he’d kicked his pants free and was lubed and sheathed. He took my shaky hands in his and placed them on his shoulders as he pulled me onto his lap, then frowned as he searched my face.
“I’m fine.” I dug my nails into his shoulders as my cock slid over his sweat-slick abdomen. “Ignore the shivering. It’s just because I’m really fucking turned on right now and I’m really, really looking forward to having your dick inside me.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same wavelength.” Dane’s lips curved in a faint smile as he grasped onto my hips, then slid his hand around to cup my asscheeks, the salt from his skin biting into the tender flesh, joining with the sting of penetration as he held me open and pushed just barely inside.
“Jesus.” I rested my forehead against his and tried to sink onto his cock, but he held me back and slowed me down. Millimeter by millimeter, he filled me, intense pressure that transmuted, after a moment, to deep-reaching pleasure.
For a handful of seconds, it was just…nice. Gentle. This kind of lulling rock of our bodies against each other, the easy glide of Dane’s strokes paced with our inhales and exhales. I wrapped my arms around him tighter and burrowed into his neck, licking and nipping his throat carelessly.
And then something shifted.
He nailed my prostate at the same time his fingers dragged over the welts on my ass and every nerve ending inside me sparked off at once. I made a guttural, lust-drunk noise, and whatever shreds of civility remained between us were abandoned. Dane thrust up into me like a savage, and I met him, equally unhinged, thighs tightening around him, my hands all over his body. We became push and pull, thrust and retreat, hot skin and nails. And teeth.
He flipped me over without warning, and I threw my head back with a cry, moaning as he braced on an elbow and sucked a stinging path up my throat. His kisses were as punishing and transfixing as his thrusts, and I grabbed at him, making broken, feral sounds as he fucked me.
“Dane, fuck.” I ground out. Every part of my body throbbed with the need to come.
“You wanna come, baby?”
I didn’t have even an ounce of sarcasm left in me. Nodding eagerly, I started to reach between us to take care of myself, but Dane grabbed both my hands, holding them to my chest as he tsked me.
“Oh no you don’t. That’s mine. Mine to give, mine to take.” He kissed a wet, sucking trail down my body and took me into the back of his throat, fingers filling me instead of his cock.
Everything inside me tightened and released at once. It couldn’t have taken more than a second before I came apart on a hoarse cry, the edges of my vision blurring as I spilled into the inferno of Dane’s mouth.
My cock was still twitching, my ass clenching when he pushed back inside me. Sealing his mouth to mine, the taste of my seed flooded over my tongue as he kissed me. It was the filthiest thing I’d ever experienced, and my cock gave another twitch as Dane wrapped his fist around it and milked me dry.
“I want to…oh, fuck yes,” I babbled as he held my arms down and, on one final powerful thrust that lifted my hips, emptied himself inside me.
He tugged my hair and licked into my mouth as he rode out his orgasm, and then we were just aftershocks and quaking thighs and panting breaths. His fingers smoothed over my hair as he rolled off me onto his side, where we curled in toward each other. He matched my stupid, sex-drunk smile with a crooked grin that was such an echo of my old friend that I leaned in and kissed him impulsively.
8
Dane
Cole’s thighs shook as I stroked them while waiting for my pounding heart to slow. He lolled his head toward me, hair mussed, eyes glassy. He looked as wrecked as I felt, and I leaned forward again, bracing a palm beside his head as I brushed a kiss over his lips. We couldn’t seem to stop doing that. “Okay there?”
Cole flapped his hand against my arm drowsily. “Totally zoned out, honestly, though the stinging in my ass is about to bring me crashing back to earth. Fuck, that was intense.”
I slid free of him and stretched toward the drawer in the bedside table, retrieving a tube that I laid beside him, then nudged his shoulder. “Roll onto your stomach.”
“I’ll get your sheets messy. Messier,” he corrected.
“There’s this thing called a washing machine…have you heard of it?”
“Smart-ass,” he muttered but rolled onto his stomach, then craned a look over his shoulder to survey his reddened ass. “Wow, that’s pretty fierce.”
There was no broken skin—I’d been very conscientious of where and how often I’d struck him with the cane—but there were some angry stripes where I’d doubled blows. I’d kept that to a minimum, too, wanting to give him a taste of impact play without overwhelming him and ruining it for him. In my experience there was a fine balance.
With the tube of ointment in hand, I coated Cole’s cheeks in a thick layer while he hummed and squirmed under my touch.
“Is this aftercare?”
I pressed a quick kiss to his hip and capped the tube before tossing it onto the bedside table. “It is. I’ll get you some water in a few minutes, too.” I flopped back on the bed and gently drew him toward me, spooning him and smoothing a touch along his biceps, skimming over his shoulder and pressing my thumb gently against any knots I felt, trying to work them loose.
“Mmm, I like this,” Cole murmured. “I’m used to just finishing and hopping right into the cleanup.”
“Yeah? No cuddling or comedown? No basking in the afterglow?”
He shrugged against me. “Not really. My last boyfriend wasn’t much for cuddling until after cleaning up—he was a neat-freak type—then we usually passed out immediately. Not much basking happened. And with a random hookup? Nah. I don’t really want to cuddle with strangers.”
“Ahh.” I reached for the covers, pulling them over us. Heat radiated from Cole’s ass as he nestled against me, and I made a mental note to grab an ice pack when I got up.
“So Shay and Aaron implied that you left…that you don’t go to the clubs anymore or whatever, which seems like a shame because you’re clearly skilled at…all of this.”
I reached and flipped off the lamp. “Not much since I broke up with my ex a while back, no. We’d been active in the local scene for five or so years by then, and he’d started wanting more than I felt capable of giving him.”
“More how?”
“He was increasingly into the heavier aspects of BDSM. Edgeplay, blood play,
serious pain.”
“Is that why you broke up?” Cole shifted on his pillow.
“No. I was willing to try and keep up with him, and if not, I was happy to help him find a play partner who could give him what he needed. But he cheated and that was the end of it for me.”
“But you just said you were willing to let him play with another partner. How is that cheating?”
“It’s different. That would be something the three of us engaged in together, made decisions about together. Instead, he went behind my back.”
“With another Dom?”
“Nope, just a guy he worked with. Plain old garden-variety affair. He confessed it that way as if that would somehow lessen the betrayal, but I think that hurt the most, because I really enjoyed the vanilla stuff, too, and by that time, almost all of our sexual encounters happened only in a structured context.” It occurred to me that maybe I was saying too much, but then again it was Cole and despite not having seen him for years, I felt comfortable with him.
“Jesus, that sounds kind of complicated.”
“It isn’t, not really. At the end of the day, he broke trust between us, pure and simple.” The sting of that betrayal still lodged in my chest on occasion, but it’d grown fainter with time, and now with Cole in my arms, barely even registered.
I slipped from the sheets. “I’m going to grab you that water now.” I didn’t particularly care to talk any more about my ex when my high school fantasy was naked in my bed.
“I really don’t need one.”
“You might want it later.”
Cole lodged another sleepy protest, but I was off to the kitchen regardless and returned a few minutes later with an ice pack and a bottle of water, which I placed on the nightstand next to him, and a warm washcloth that I brought into the bed with me. But when I urged him onto his back and started to wipe him clean of lube and dried jizz, he shoved my hand away.