Healing the Wounds

by M. Q. Barber

  Henry overlooked them from the nearest chair, a sketch pad balanced against the curve of his left arm. The scratch of his pencil accompanied the near silence in the room. Even the rain had stopped its drumming outside.

  Henry’s right arm danced, his hand hidden behind the pad he held. “Did you have a nice nap, dearest?”

  “Comfy pillow.” She matched his quiet tones. Jay had been up as early as she, and he’d spent six hours biking up and down mountains afterward. “That why you didn’t…you know…earlier?”

  Pausing his hand, he met her gaze over the edge of the sketch pad. “He’d have fallen asleep in his lunch.”

  She twitched her lips but stifled the laugh. “He needed the calories more than the cock?”

  Henry granted her a gracious nod and a closed-mouth smile before the rustling scratch of the pencil returned. He seemed intent on his work, but unbothered by her distractions. Content, as if he’d succeeded in his purpose for the weekend. Tomorrow they’d go home.

  “Thank you for bringing us here. I can’t remember the last time I had a long, lazy weekend.” She yawned into her elbow. “How long have we been sleeping?”

  “About ninety minutes.” His gaze flicked between her and the paper before him.

  Fuck. She struggled not to jump to her feet. Or her knees.

  “It’s after seven?” Henry’s time. A nice waiting pose and a heartfelt apology might make up for their lapse.

  “It is.” He surveyed her in full, his slow sweep chasing away anxiety. “Not to worry. You’re following my directions by lying still.” He flashed a smile. “Astonishingly enough, you followed that direction in your sleep, as well. I’d no idea you were so agreeably submissive.”

  She clamped her lips together to avoid waking Jay with laughter, but air chuffed through her nose and her stomach muscles rippled.

  Jay snuffled and shifted beneath her.

  “Close your eyes a while longer, please, sweet girl. I haven’t quite finished here.”

  A deep breath calmed her. Closing her eyes, she crooned to Jay and drifted, buoyed by the scratch of Henry’s pencil and the surety of his love.

  Chapter 11

  “Pistachio. Pistachio.”

  She gasped the word after the pain hit but before the mortification flushed her face.

  Two male voices, one deep and even, the other thin and cracking, called her name.

  Back blazing, she crumpled to the bed, unable to move from a near-fetal hunch. God-fucking-dammit. One wrong twist, and her lower back throbbed. She’d ruined Henry’s plans for Sunday night. Jay’s inspection. Their relaxing weekend away.

  Guilt tightened her muscles, and she sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. Hands touched her back but didn’t attempt to uncurl her from her naked ball.

  “Where does it hurt, sweet girl?” Henry delivered firm, kneading pushes with the heels of his hands. “Muscle spasm, hmm?” He issued orders to Jay, sending him dashing to the kitchen.

  “M’sorry, Henry.” She yelped as he found the center of the pain.

  “Ahh, there’s the trouble spot.” His hand lay flat, a slight, soothing pressure. “No need for apologies, dearest.”

  “But I ruined tonight.” The pain grated like a spike in her back, and she wanted to beg Henry to lift his hand and pull it out.

  She kept her eyes closed, refusing to witness his disappointment in her failure. Christ, she’d cried like a baby over a tiny spanking at the club, and now she’d stopped the game for a fucking pulled muscle. Because she couldn’t manage to roll from her back to her knees without injuring herself. Fucking idiotic move. Thank God they’d been in foreplay-land. Any later, and she’d give Jay a complex.

  “Nonsense. You haven’t ruined a thing, my dear girl.” Henry’s matter-of-fact tone carried no sting of disappointment. “You used your safeword, as you should, when something went wrong.”

  Safewording stank of failure, even if he’d handled run-of-the-mill problems like pulled muscles dozens of times. The pain hadn’t ebbed. Their last night here, and she’d knocked herself out of the game.

  “Is she okay?” Jay barreled through the doorway. “I got everything you wanted.”

  “Sad and pouting a bit.” Henry laid his lips to her forehead. “But reasonably fine, I expect.” He lowered his voice, a tender prod. “Shall I add embarrassed and guilty to the list, my dear? I’m sorry you are hurting, but I’m proud of you for taking the correct action rather than attempting to pretend you were fine.”

  “I stopped the game,” she whispered. The last night she’d done so had been a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

  “Temporarily, and with good reason.” He murmured thanks to Jay and warned her of the cold.

  She hissed at the chill of the towel-covered ice pack he draped on her back.

  “I never want you to suffer in silence, Alice.” He deepened his voice and leaned in, his face inches from hers. Brows lowered, mouth a thin line, he hadn’t looked so serious all day. “You’re to speak up. Always. Am I understood?”

  She must’ve twanged his memories of the lesson Jay’d learned the hard way. As if submission only and always involved suffering. Wrongheaded thinking. A hypothesis he’d hate to see her test.

  “I understand, Henry.” The ice muted the throbbing in her back. She managed a wry smile. “I can’t promise not to be mortified, but I won’t let embarrassment stop me from telling you the truth.”

  “Good girl. We’ll leave the ice on for another ten minutes.” He kissed her cheek. “Jay, the ibuprofen, please. Alice, if you’ll lift your head.”

  With Jay’s careful assistance, she managed to get the pills down without spilling water all over the sheets. He sat beside her afterward and rested a hand on her calf.

  “Sorry you’re benched for the night.” He scrunched his face in a caricature of unhappiness. “It sucks, I know. Not even in the fun way.”

  She’d have hugged him if not for the pinch in her muscles. “I’m the sorry one, sweetheart. Once I’m all popsicle-back, can you help me up?”

  “And why would you want Jay to do that, Alice?”

  “I’ll get out of your way—go sleep on the couch or in one of the other bedrooms.” She met Henry’s gaze, resolute in her intention to ignore the beautiful expanse of bare flesh below. “It’s our last night here.”

  His chest, broad and firm.

  “I already messed up your plans.”

  His abdomen, sloping toward a delicious center.

  “You guys don’t need me third-wheeling it while you’re trying to restart the mood.”

  Henry sighed. “Utterly ridiculous.”

  Jay nodded. “Where does she get these ideas?”

  “What?” She tentatively uncurled her legs. The pain was tolerable, in that she didn’t stop breathing. Walking to the living room would be no big deal. “What’s wrong with my ideas?” The sooner she moved, the sooner Henry could get Jay’s head back in the game. “I’m holding up the fun.”

  Henry looped her hair around his finger. “Did I demand Jay leave the bed in January when he was so bruised and in pain?”

  When Jay had tangled with a delivery truck, been flying on painkillers, enjoyed a slick blowjob, and watched Henry fuck her tenderly for what had seemed uncountable hours of bliss. Oh. Yeah, that. “No, Henry.”

  “No.” He trailed his hand down her cheek to her neck. “Do you suppose your presence here is more of a distraction for him than our beautiful boy’s presence then was for you?”

  “He wasn’t a distraction,” she whispered. Henry had shredded her argument in two questions. She’d been thinking of herself as an inconvenience. But when her night had been interrupted, she’d wanted nothing more than to make sure no one felt left out. “I wanted to share.”

  “As do we, sweet girl.” Henry’s teasing smile softened her pain. “If you wish to adjourn to the living room, Jay and I will simply have to follow you. Light the fireplace, perhaps.”

  Jay whistled. “Sex in front of
a roaring fire? I haven’t done that. Is there a bearskin rug around here?”

  She let a single giggle escape. Her back twinged, but not terribly. “Me neither.”

  “Ah.” Henry traced her mouth with his thumb. “No fireplace tonight, my dears. We’ll save it for a lovely winter’s evening when I may take you both on the floor before the hearth. Your skin glowing and warm. Shadows dancing. The spice of wood smoke mingling with your sweet scents.”

  Jay clutched her leg and whimpered, his eyes dark and eager. If not for the lingering ache in her back, she’d be right there with him.

  Henry lifted the ice away. The surface chill, the numbness over the deeper pain, helped some.

  “Return this to the freezer, my boy. We’ve an hour before we ought to ice Alice’s back again. I believe we might make good use of our time.”

  Jay snatched the ice pack from Henry and grinned at her. “I’ll try to put on a good show, so don’t fall asleep, okay?” He dashed away without waiting for her answer.

  “Your pulse is slower.” Henry took his fingers from her neck. “Tell me your pain level, dearest.”

  “Not great, but bearable. I’ll live.”

  Something flickered in his eyes before he reached for the pillows and swiftly rearranged them. When they’d gotten her settled, she had a firm pillow under her back for support and two under her head to elevate her view.

  Jay hustled back into the room.

  Henry crooked his finger and called to him.

  They knelt on the bed, Henry’s knees surrounding Jay’s. He leaned forward, gripped Jay’s chin in one hand, and kissed him. Hard. Enough to push Jay’s head back, tilting his face upward and arching his back until his chest met Henry’s.

  There. There came the happy whimper she loved.

  Henry switched his grip to Jay’s hair, the thick, baby-soft strands at the back of his neck.

  “I haven’t finished inspecting you.” He ran his tongue up Jay’s neck from the notch in his collarbone to the underside of his chin. “Did you wash every inch?”

  Jay moaned a wide-mouthed affirmation.

  Henry nipped at the sloping muscles above Jay’s shoulders.

  A tug on his hair and a push at his chest sent Jay to the bed. He sprawled on his back, his breath fast, his cock hard and straining.

  “Yes, you wouldn’t have neglected anything that belongs to me, would you, my boy?”

  Jay shook his head.

  “No.” Henry teased a finger up Jay’s thigh. “And every inch of you belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, Henry.” Eyes gleaming, Jay watched Henry with an unwavering gaze.

  Straddling Jay’s hips, Henry rose on his knees and stroked his own cock. Once. Twice.

  Jay licked his lips, and she echoed the movement. Almost like still being in the game, sharing his enjoyment.

  “Mine to protect.” Henry dropped his hand to Jay’s cock. Curving over the shaft and pressing down, he squeezed Jay against his stomach. “Mine to encourage to grow.”

  Whining, Jay rocked his hips.

  Henry held him pinned between his legs. He rubbed the tip of Jay’s cock with a single finger in a slow, swirling motion. Lifted the shining fingertip to his mouth and sucked. “Mine to sample whenever I wish.”

  She opened her mouth. Had to. Couldn’t breathe otherwise, as panting and excited as Jay to see what Henry would do. A magician. Keep a close enough eye, and she’d learn his secrets. But no matter how close her scrutiny, Henry never lost his magic. He retained his ability to surprise and delight and command her attention.

  “However I wish.” Henry lowered his hips toward Jay. His cock hung stiff and dark an inch above Jay’s. He pushed forward, a slow thrust, and his balls swayed, brushing along Jay’s shaft.

  Jay shuddered. He dug his hands into the sheets at his sides, one within her reach. She resisted the urge to touch. Fuck if she’d interrupt the spell Henry had woven around him.

  “I know you want my touch. The climax I denied you this afternoon.”

  Jay nodded, a frantic need, his hips surging as Henry raised enough to create a gap between them.

  “Ask for it, Jay.”

  “Please. Please, Henry,” he begged, with adorable intensity. “Please take me.”

  She chanted along in her mind, a chorus of pleas. She knew the urgent desire when climax wasn’t enough, when the physical release fell behind the emotional need to be owned. To have Henry claim her.

  “However you want.” Shadows danced across Jay’s abdomen as he twisted and squirmed. “Make me yours.”

  She’d run from such terrifying needs for months. Now she silently urged him on. Yes. Take Jay. Love him.

  Henry bent forward and rested one hand on the bed. He stared into Jay’s face.

  Jay stared back, open and needy. He gasped and groaned as Henry whispered, “Mine.”

  She’d missed the moment—Henry’s other hand. Holding Jay’s cock. Kind of. The darkness between their bodies justified the extra time she spent staring. Nope, nothing to do with how fucking hot Henry’s cock looked sliding against Jay’s. Or how Henry kept Jay’s cock pressed tight to his own with his palm. Or the way he rubbed his fingers over the tips and slicked pre-come down the shafts.

  Jay’s stuttering whimpers signaled his approaching climax. Henry didn’t stop, didn’t clamp Jay’s cock hard or demand he wait.

  “That’s it, my boy.” Their cocks rubbed faster as he cupped Jay’s balls and squeezed. “Show me the orgasm I’ve given you.”

  A jerk of his hips and Jay came with a desperate whine, a sigh of relief as ejaculate splashed his stomach and chest. Her clit throbbed in empathy, the warmth and desire pushing her pain to the back of her mind. Watching her boys fuck was the best medicine in the world next to getting fucked herself.

  Henry kissed Jay with bruising intensity, hard and growling and nipping at his lips. “A beautiful Act One, my dear boy. No intermission tonight. The show must go on schedule, hmm? Act Two is already starting.”

  Act Two? Please God, make him work himself to climax over Jay.

  Henry gripped his cock at the base, angled it down, and dragged the tip across Jay’s body through splashes of come. An artist signing his work. Fuck, she’d let him sign anything he wanted on her stomach any day.

  He worked his way up Jay’s body until he knelt over Jay’s face, cock in hand.

  Jay parted his lips.

  Henry swiped his cock across them.

  Jay lifted his head, chasing the brief touch.

  “Tongue out, my boy. I want to see you licking.”

  Jay extended his tongue with perfect obedience. Splayed it wide and lapped at the head of Henry’s cock. Eager and moaning, he begged to take more without saying a word. The sheen of his lips and the deep magenta of his tongue paled alongside an even deeper shade.

  Henry pressed forward. Not much. Enough to pop the very tip of his cock into Jay’s mouth, but no more.

  “Suck. You taste yourself on my cock, don’t you?” He pushed in and out as Jay swayed and tugged, muscles tightening in his neck. “The taste of us together. A strong flavor. An excellent blend.”

  They developed a suction-pop rhythm, the head of Henry’s cock disappearing to the edge of that sweet ridge begging for attention. Jay’s lips clung to that curve for a long moment every time Henry pulled back.

  “You can take more, can’t you? I’ve seen you take more than this. Such a delightful mouth and an expert tongue.” Henry rubbed his cock over Jay’s waiting lips. “I’m going to give you more this time. Clap your hands for me first. Twice, please.”

  Jay scrambled to raise his hands across his chest. He clapped twice, the snap hard and sharp over their breathing.

  “Good boy. Twice to stop.”

  Jay nodded.

  “Repeat the words so I know you understand.”

  “Clap twice to stop.” He flicked Henry’s cock with his tongue and ended with a cheeky grin. “Do I win a prize?”

  “You
do,” Henry murmured. “Now open your mouth and take it.”

  Her mouth dropped open with his, but only Jay’s received the prize. A slow, steady thrust, his lips stretched around Henry’s cock.

  Henry kept his hand tight around the base. Gave Jay half, up to the edge of his knuckles. Pulled back and thrust again.

  Eager whimpers accompanied every wet plunge. The bed rocked, Jay thrusting at the air as his cock hardened. Sucking Henry off might be his favorite activity.

  Henry thrust faster, but still controlled. Still limiting his depth with his hand.

  Jay sucked, his lips formed a tight seal, but their game wasn’t a run-of-the-mill blowjob.

  Her heart stumbled, skipping a beat before racing.

  Henry was fucking Jay’s mouth. And Jay wanted it. Couldn’t get enough of it. Had a way to stop if he needed to, a temporary replacement for his safeword. Had Henry’s unwavering attention, ready to pull out in an instant if Jay needed a break.

  Christ, they were beautiful. Jay’s cheeks hollowed out as he sucked during the pause between each thrust. Henry slipped his hand back. Three fingers, then two, then no more than a circle of thumb and index at the base of his cock. Guiding his thrusts more than limiting their depth.

  Jay’s throat worked, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and whimpered and begged to claim his prize.

  Henry thrust and didn’t pull back. Thrust twice more, his hips jerking, his cock deep in Jay’s mouth. Growling, he lifted free, spilling ejaculate, coating Jay’s lips and questing tongue.

  She could’ve come herself if he’d ordered her to. One finger on the button and it would’ve been over. Fuck the muscle strain. She’d happily end up in traction.

  A single rock of her hips put an end to her grand notion. Clenching her teeth, she waited for the pain to subside. The chill in her back had faded without her notice.

  Henry shuffled back and kissed Jay. “Thank you, my boy.” He kissed his forehead, the bridge of his nose, even his come-smeared lips. Gently, now, no longer possessive and demanding. “Such attentive service pleases me. My loving, obedient boy.”