“I am not.” I went higher on his back, up his rib cage to his shoulders, down his arms. While I was doing that, my towel fell off. I let him feel my arousal. As I worked the oil into his skin, my cock bobbed against his ass crack, leaving a damp trail—like kisses. I left a trail of kisses with my lips too, some gentle, some firm. Sometimes I nipped and left light marks from my teeth.
“You are the object of my desire, Cam. I plan to worship every part of you with everything I have. Do you believe me?”
Cam tensed again but nodded. I dropped my hand between his ass cheeks and smoothed oil there. When I indicated he should lift up, he did, pressing his face down into the pillow.
“This is mine.” I rubbed his taint and circled the dark bud of his anus with an oiled finger. “Your ass is all mine.”
He let out a sound like an embarrassed chuckle.
“Say it.” I tapped his pucker to get his attention
Cam’s self-consciousness was clear in his voice. “My ass is yours.”
“When I want it, you’ll bare it for me and let me have it. No questions asked.” I rubbed my thumb over his perineum and fondled his balls with my other hand. When I gave them a squeeze, I felt him shiver.
“All right.”
“It’s a beautiful ass, Cam.”
I swear he giggled.
“Do you like to be slapped?” Some people liked that. I liked a nice pink ass as much as the next guy, but I wasn’t married to it. As far as I was concerned, whatever I did was about Cam, and I liked what he liked. He was out of luck if he needed me to really hurt him, but a little slap was fine with me. I could still do that with my left hand. His shoulders tensed.
“This honesty thing is really getting out of control with you, isn’t it?” he mumbled.
“That’s the deal,” I told him. I rummaged around in my kit, throwing things on the bed: dams, gloves, lube, and scented oils. Maybe I seemed clinical to him and killed his mood. I could understand where he was coming from. He just didn’t know where we were going. Yet.
“I’m going to rub your ass. I’m going to get it slick, lick it, penetrate it, and spank it if you want me to. I’m going to do all this while I’m mouthing your balls, and jacking your dick. By the time I’m done, you’ll feel like I electrocuted you. You’ll give it up to me each and every time because I’m going to make it so good for you, baby. So good…you’ll beg me for it.”
He swallowed hard.
I leaned over and whispered in his ear. “And I’m going to get off without even touching my dick because just the thought of owning your ass makes me so hot I could come right now.”
“You going to talk dirty to me?” he asked.
“You like that?”
“Yeah.”
“Good then, baby. You’re going to be my new fuck toy.” I grabbed a glove and pulled it onto my right hand. It was a tight fit, a surgical glove liberated from my doctor. A lot of what I had in my kit was lifted from doctors and dentists. I popped an ice cube into my mouth. It was one of those small round ones with a hole in the middle. I pushed it with my tongue so it was clenched between my front teeth and rubbed it along Cam’s spine. It wasn’t easy to talk around ice, but I managed a little. “You’re going to be my ash shlut.”
“Ah.” He squirmed, but I held him fast. “Ah, shit, cold.”
“Mmmhmm. Cohd. Gonna get ya hot. Coo’ you dow’. I’ gonna ’ake ya shweat and ’eg and co’.”
I kept going, down his ass crack, and circled around his hole, his taint, and behind his balls. He shivered and let loose a moan that I knew had more to do with the finger I was circling against his hole than the ice I was melting along his skin. I let the ice drip until it melted, and he stopped squirming.
I pushed on the skin around his asshole like a threat. My well-lubed finger barely breached him, and he sucked in a deep, shuddering breath.
“You going to let me in?”
He nodded and tucked his head down without speaking.
“Open for me Cam. Push back and show me how much you want me inside you.” He shoved back hard as I rocked my finger in. He was so tight, so hot. I could barely get a finger inside him. He was all muscle, all power, yet he presented his most delicate, his most intimate skin for my touch. His feet lay visible between his ass and the bed, one crossed over the other, soles up. I brushed one with the tip of my finger, and it wiggled.
Ah, man. I was a goner for Cam, and he probably knew it.
But he was so tight, his ass fought me, and I took that as a sign that I needed to go slower, to be gentler. To try harder.
“Maybe you need a little convincing.” I took a swig of coffee before laying a latex dam against the puckered skin of his ass. When I breached him with my tongue it had to be warm, nearly hot, by contrast.
“Ah.” His hips jerked. “Ah, fuck. Fuck.”
I arrowed my tongue as firmly as I could and fucked him with it, licking around the hole and fluttering along the rim, then diving in, pushing as far as I could, digging until he cried out, until he tensed and twisted, begging. With my ungloved hand I got more ice, and put it in the side of my cheek, starting again, this time with a cold tongue, a cool mouth, while I used my cool hand to fondle his balls and start stripping his dick.
Hot, cold, tongue and fingers. I used everything I had, even the vibrations of my voice at different pitches as I purred and hummed against his skin. I brushed his sweet spot from the outside while I thumbed it from the inside. He began to moan, his body trembling, so I mouthed his balls and nuzzled his perineum. Finally, I had to have him roll over so I could suck him and fuck him with my fingers at the same time. I nudged him, and he turned and stretched out, unfurling for me like some big naked-man bounce house while I slipped a condom over his leaking cock and tongued his tight balls.
I gloved my left hand and lubed it, slipping in three fingers while I mouthed his dick. When he cried out, I gave his cock all my attention, letting him rock between my mouth and my hand until my fingers rubbed his prostate again and again and he jerked each time, out of control, hungry, and reaching for climax, incoherent with need.
His thighs trembled, and his jaw hung open. He gripped my head and fucked up into my mouth. Thank fuck I have no gag reflex to speak of, because he used me like I’ve never been used, and I fucking loved it. I’d been humping against his knee and knew I would probably come when he did. I welcomed it. I let go, and he jerked a few more times and so did I, my hips snapping up and back, until my blood sang through my veins and climax was an unstoppable train for both of us.
He screamed my name once as he lost control—just said “Daniel,” as though he’d been Tasered, as though he’d fallen off a cliff or flown into the sun, and the last thing he thought about before oblivion was me.
The sound alone filled me with satisfaction, but the rest of it… I rocked against his muscled leg until that first electric tingling surge of my release hit my spine, and I let go and spattered cum into the sweat that pooled between us.
Fuck yeah, you are mine now, Cameron Rooney. Take that you big bastard. This is as good as it gets.
His cock throbbed and warmed against my tongue, and he froze inside my mouth. I held my breath while he gasped for his.
Finally he fell back against the pillows, arms to his sides, still shivering. I crawled up to lie beside him, dropping all the latex and that used condom off the side of the bed. I admit I was proud of myself.
Cam rose up on his side and leaned over to kiss me. He certainly enjoyed intimacy after sex. I know I did, and I could have kissed Cam for hours—just lipped and sucked and nuzzled him—because he was sweet and I’d pleased him. He smiled against my mouth and rubbed my nose again with his. When I was a kid, we’d called those Eskimo kisses. I wondered what the politically correct term was now. Whatever Cam did, he did it with his usual bad-boy charm, and I had to grin back and nip his lips in return.
“You melted my brain.”
I resisted the urge to ask him whether he believed that was a great lo
ss.
He seemed content to look down at me with a stupid smile on his face. I was pretty content too, but I felt like I was still on the control clock, and I was trying not to let on.
He curled up then, lying with his cheek on my chest. It felt good to hold him like that. I wrapped my arms around his upper torso, one arm under his and one around his neck. It was like cuddling up with a tree trunk, but he was oddly childlike about it and it warmed my heart. He brushed his lips over one of my nipples and rubbed his face on my chest hair before falling almost immediately to sleep.
For a while I just held him there: a satisfied Cameron Rooney, who stretched out in my arms and whuffled little soft snore noises against my breastbone.
Score.
He lifted a knee and nearly emasculated me with it, trying to get closer. I kissed the soft blond hair at his temple and rested next to him, squeezing him a little harder than strictly necessary, because he was fast asleep, no one could see me, and I was too relaxed and happy to worry about wanting to hold him so much.
Chapter Fifteen
When I woke later, Cam was making use of my lube and pushing my legs over my head, and just like that, I realized he liked to be in control very much; it was simply that he liked it all, and a lot of men didn’t bother tapping into the vast smorgasbord of fuck yeah, let’s try it, served up all day, every day at Cameron Rooney’s sexual buffet.
Any license to control I’d received earlier in the day had been revoked, and there was the distinct aroma of one-upmanship in the air.
Even then, even when he was stretching me and lining himself up, even when he was pinching my nipples and gauging my reaction, he was careful. Even as the popping of his hips plunged his cock into me inch by inch—eventually I swear I felt it at the back of my throat, driven by those thick glute muscles up my ass and beyond—he was so careful with me, it almost choked me up.
He’d put a pillow between my body and my damaged arm and settled my hand on a thick pad of folded blankets. While he wrapped my good arm around his neck and encouraged me to hold on, he gently stroked my injured hand every so often with his. It was curiously, dangerously tender—like inviting someone’s grandmother to dance at a wedding—even though he had his dick up my ass and his eyes challenged me to complain if he popped his hips so hard my head slammed into the headboard.
“You’re just accident-prone, you know that?” Cam took pity on me and pulled a pillow up between my skull and the wood.
He reared up and shifted to get more traction, gripping my shoulder and my hip, and pounded me into that mattress like a fucking porn star. My head rang and my legs trembled, and I made this noise, ah, whimper, with every thrust. He angled his dick a whole new way so that it ground over my prostate as he gave my cock a few quick pumps. My eyes rolled back into my head, and the last thing I saw before I nearly blacked out was his face, grinning down at me.
“Good, huh?”
I responded by splattering cum all over; it ribboned through the air like the searchlights outside a movie premiere, all over both of us.
My ass clamped convulsively around his cock, and he jerked a few times, muttering, “Yeah, baby. Oh, fuck, that’s it. Give me everything you got. Yeah…yeah…yeah.”
After a while he pulled out and dropped the condom over the side of the bed where I’d dropped everything else. “Fuck yeah.”
He collapsed on my left side, leaving my arm uncrushed but the rest of me ringing like I’d been hit by a meteor, and for exactly the first time in my life, I wanted to be reassured that I wasn’t just somebody’s latest fuck.
Irony will kill you if you let it.
“This is…? You know.” I asked when he wrapped an arm around my head and clutched me to him again. “It’s not just this, right?”
“Hell no. I’m keeping you. I thought you knew that.”
“Thanks.” I tucked my head next to his chin.
He peered at me. “You?”
“Just try to get away. All I have to do to make you come running is start a fire.”
He huffed a laugh and said, “Yeah, if you want to go to jail.”
I kissed his bicep. “You’d be worth it.”
I believed that. Cameron Rooney would be worth anything. Even being honest, which is what he seemed to want from me, damn it.
I’d try.
Heaven knew I’d try. But oh, man. Precedent for that shit was not in our favor at all.
* * *
I woke up and realized Cam had been watching me sleep again.
That may sound romantic at first—when you open your eyes and someone else’s eyes are gazing down at you—but seriously, it makes you jump. It makes your heart race and your skin crawl. Even if the eyes looking at you are some of your favorite eyes in the world, if they’re watching you while you’re asleep, it makes for a rather unsettling few minutes as you’re gathering your first thoughts on waking.
“Jeez. What are you looking at?” I asked.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you fucking laminated me.”
“What?” I shook my head to clear it.
“What’s with the rubber gloves and the latex dams. I get why you might not want to let me come in your mouth. I know why we glove up for anal. But it was like you didn’t even want to touch me.”
“You didn’t seem to mind at the time.”
“You didn’t exactly give me a chance to think about it then.”
I sat up, resting my back against the headboard. “No I didn’t. I didn’t want to spoil anything for you. And judging from your response, you were flying.”
Cam opened his mouth to say something then closed it again. “Daniel, if there’s something you need to tell me. If you’re HIV positive, now would—”
“No.” I reassured him. “Hell no. If I were positive, I’d have told you long before this. Before I even touched you.”
“Me too.” He frowned. “You have to know I wouldn’t let you touch me like that if it wasn’t safe.” I guess I was quiet too long, because he shifted away from me. “You don’t trust me.”
“Of course I don’t.” Oh, crap, honesty was going to kill me.
“Thanks.” He got up and stalked to his duffel, reaching for a pair of jeans. “I’ll just be—”
“Wait. Don’t I get to have my say?” I smacked the bed, and he sat. “By any standards, what I did to you was risky sexual behavior. By public health standards, I might as well drink raw sewage. I’m not going in without a strategy. You can take it or leave it. It doesn’t spoil my fun, and you certainly seemed to enjoy it, so I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”
“I felt like”—he seemed to search for the words—“unclean. I felt unclean.”
“Cam.” I tried to coax him into my arms. “I never wanted you to feel like that.”
“I know. I should applaud your efforts to keep yourself safe. That’s better for me as your partner. But I kept thinking about it while you were sleeping. I’m not some fucking leper. I’d know if I were sick. I get tested regularly and—”
“Since Tree-Blow Guy?”
He shook his head.
“That’s not good enough. Not for me and not for you.”
Cam was silent for a moment. He looked away. “I know.”
“Look. I’m not asking for a commitment. I’m not even saying I won’t do whatever you need, whenever you need it. What I am saying is I always use protection when there’s bodily fluids. Mine or yours. That’s the way it is.”
“All right. But you used gloves. Like you couldn’t even stand to touch me.”
I sighed. “I’ll let you in on a little secret if you’ll come back to bed, all right?” I patted the space next to me.
Uncertain, he got under the covers and pulled pillows around so he could lie on his side, facing me. I relaxed back down next to him and looked up at the ceiling. It wasn’t going to be easy confiding in Cam. If I had any deepest, darkest secrets, they would all be about this.
“BreeAnna has…issues. T
hat’s why I started doing this—beside the fact that I trick. BreeAnna couldn’t stand to have saliva touch her skin. She didn’t want semen inside her. Even my bare fingers made her feel sick. She wanted none of that. She hated it. You spend the night trying to coax a woman out of the closet, where she’s rocking and pulling her hair out, and you’ll do whatever it takes.”
Cam shuddered delicately. “I can’t imagine fucking a woman.”
“Maybe I’m bi or something. I don’t know. It was okay. It was my trade-off to make. When we first got together, I thought I loved her.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. I’m not a monster. I wanted to please her. I knew I couldn’t be everything she wanted, but I wanted to at least make her happy in bed. At first it just seemed like she thought certain things were gross. I made a game out of it, and she responded. That wasn’t easy, but we were young, and I thought we were in love. I thought someday we’d have kids and we would concentrate on them. Drift apart. Cheat. The entire American dream.”
“I wouldn’t want to live like that.”
“It’s not like I believed I had a choice. Jake was gay. I was really close to my mother, and I knew what it would do to her if she thought neither of her kids would get married or have kids of their own. I had to be straight because Jake wasn’t.”
“So you made the best of a bad situation?”
“I made a mess. I took a bad situation and made it worse by marrying Bree. Her problems got so much worse over the years. Kids weren’t ever a possibility. She said she could feel my sperm swimming inside her. That my spit burned, and semen made her feel bloated. It all made her feel crazy.”
“So you McGyvered the sex so she could feel comfortable.”
“Who am I to say everything wasn’t as painful as she said it was. There was no point in arguing. It bothered her, so I tried to help. She deserved my compassion because she was my wife, and if I had to treat her like she was the heroine of ‘The Princess and the Pea,’ well… Why not? We were together for twelve years. There was more between us than what happened in the bedroom.”
“That must have been awkward.”
St. Nacho's 4: The Book of Daniel Page 12