by L. A. Witt
I leaned over him and kissed his neck. “Believe me, Nathan,” I growled against his throat. “I’m lucky I can breathe when you’re around.” Kissing my way up to the underside of his jaw, I said, “I haven’t been completely in control since the day you walked into The Epidauran.”
He let out a ragged breath. “So I’m not the only one.”
“Not even close.” I kissed him, then worked my way back down his neck. “And having you like this…” I flicked my tongue across his collarbone, laughing softly when he shivered. “…having you completely at my mercy…” I ran my tongue around his nipple. “…is hotter than you can fucking imagine.”
Another breath and another shiver, but it was different this time. Arousal, not nervousness. Still teasing his nipple with my tongue, I let my hand drift down his side and rest on his hipbone. The tip of my thumb followed the groove between his hip and thigh, running back and forth, barely touching, stopping just shy of his cock every time. His body trembled every time my thumb came close, and he growled with frustration every time it drew away.
I kissed the center of his chest and worked my way down. I moved as slowly as I could, inching down his abs one kiss at a time, giving every tremor time to come and go completely before creating the next.
Metal jingled as his body tensed. His eyes were closed, his lips parted.
“You okay?” I asked, making sure my breath hit his skin just right to make him shake.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he whispered. He bit his lip and furrowed his brow, eyes still shut tight, and I hesitated to continue.
“Are you-”
“Don’t stop,” he said. “Please, just don’t stop.” That’s when I realized his words were slurred, his ability to speak ebbing with every breath.
I drew a small circle with the tip of my tongue just above his navel, then blew on it, watching the goose bumps appear on his skin.
Metal crunched against the wooden bed frame as Nathan’s entire body tensed. I glanced up, grinning at the sight of his trembling muscles and the cords standing out on his neck. His forearms rippled and, though I couldn’t see them, I guessed his hands were curled into tight fists, pulling the chain against the bed frame. He whimpered softly as my tongue teased his skin, dangerously close to his cock, still refusing to touch him the way I knew he wanted.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
“Am I frustrating you, Nathan?”
“You could say that, yes.”
I laughed and flicked my tongue across his cock. I did it only once, but it was enough to lift his spine off the bed.
“You fucking tease,” he growled. The chain ground against the bed frame, emphasizing his aggravation.
“I could do this all night,” I whispered against his skin. “Touching you…” I closed my fingers around his cock, stroking slowly. “…tasting you…” I ran my tongue along the whole length of his cock, barely keeping myself from coming as a shudder lifted his torso almost completely off the bed. “…teasing you.”
“Torturing me is more like it,” he said through chattering teeth.
I laughed and kissed his skin just to feel it quiver. “I think you’re enjoying it, though.” It was meant to sound playful, but I wanted confirmation. Just to be sure I hadn’t pushed him too far. Though I had done little more than tease him, I was on high alert for any indication, however subtle, that he wasn’t comfortable with this. I’d seen experienced subs suddenly buckle and beg to be released, and those were situations built on foundations a bit more solid than this makeshift effigy of trust.
“Zach?”
His voice brought me out of my tangle of thoughts, and I looked up. He’d raised his head and now watched me.
“You stopped,” he said. He was right. My hand had stopped, and all I’d done was breathe on him.
“I-” I paused. Didn’t want him to think I had doubts. All of this had to be part of my game, or else he’d get nervous. I grinned at him. “Just seeing if you were paying attention.”
He let his head fall back onto the pillow, laughing softly. Without being able to see his face, I couldn’t tell if that laugh was a nervous sound or if he was just wound up.
But it was up to him to tell me if he was nervous or uncomfortable, so I continued, if cautiously.
I stroked his cock, gripping tighter, then barely touching him, then gripping tighter again. He trembled at my touch, groaning every time my fingers tightened around him.
On one of the down strokes, my mouth joined, following my hand almost all the way to the base.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. The handcuffs rattled against the headboard, and he cursed again. “Fuck, Zach, that’s…” He trailed off, but he’d said enough to reassure me that he was still very much a willing participant. Frustrated, maybe, but uncoerced.
Abandoning my worries, I focused on what I was doing. Stroking, sucking, slowing down, speeding up. I teased him relentlessly, driven by his moans and pleas, by metal rattling against wood.
He squirmed beneath me, metal grinding against the bed frame as the chain protested his efforts to free his hands. I wasn’t concerned, though. If he wanted to free his hands, he could. I no longer worried that he was nervous. Every sound and tremor came from a place of arousal, not fear.
Then the click of the quick release made my blood run cold.
Chapter Thirty-two
I pushed myself up on my arms as metal clanged against wood. Nathan rose, something unreadable in his eyes as they locked on mine.
My heart pounded. “What’s-”
He kissed me, one hand on the side of my face as the other went to the back of my neck, the dangling cuff cool against my skin as it dragged over my shoulder. There was desperation in his kiss, in the way he held me closer and tighter with each passing second. My mind swam with confusion and panic, but my body responded to his kiss and his touch as if there was no reason for concern.
Barely breathing when his lips released mine, I whispered, “What’s wrong? Why did-”
“Nothing’s wrong.” He kissed me lightly, the fingers on the back of my neck running up into my hair with the cold cuff trailing behind. “Nothing’s wrong except…” He paused, swallowing hard as the pad of his thumb brushed over my cheekbone. “I just needed to touch you.” He kissed me again, drawing me down with him as he sank back to the bed.
After a long moment, he broke the kiss and looked at me, running his fingers through my hair. His gaze shifted back and forth between my eyes and his own hand with the cuff dangling beside my face. For a moment, he seemed to lose focus, looking at something unseen as he ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. His brow furrowed slightly as if some thought had crossed his mind, something that required extra concentration.
Just as he had earlier when he’d made the decision to go through with this, he let out a breath and met my eyes, his mind obviously made up about some question I wasn’t aware of. Then, with one hand still on the back of my neck, he reached for the nightstand. The handcuff clanged against the drawer, but it was the sound of foil brushing across foil that made me shiver.
His hand came back with the condom between two fingers, just as I’d expected, but I wasn’t prepared when his eyes-intense, determined, decided-met mine and he held the foil packet out to me.
Just the thought of being inside him made my entire body tremble. I couldn’t breathe. Never in my life had I been this perfectly, painfully turned on, and for a moment, I couldn’t even move because I was sure that if my skin so much as brushed his, I’d come.
I wanted to ask if he was sure, but my mouth went dry. That and the look in his eyes answered any question I might have thought to ask.
I took the condom and tore the wrapper with my teeth. He exhaled hard through parted lips and held my gaze, watching me watch him. When I shifted my weight onto one elbow, reaching between us to put the condom on, he put his hands on my neck and pulled me into a deep kiss.
Putting a condom on without looking wasn’t difficult, but
trying to do anything while kissing Nathan was nearly impossible. Without breaking the kiss, he slid a hand between us and helped, rolling it on quickly. But even once it was in place, we didn’t move. Didn’t separate. Didn’t do a damned thing except make out like we couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
Eventually, though, I couldn’t wait any more. After a second, third and fourth attempt to break the kiss, I pushed myself up on my arms and gestured for him to come up with me. He did as I poured some lube into my hand.
“Which way do you prefer?” I asked, surprised my voice wasn’t shaking more than it was.
“Your call.” He grinned into a long kiss. “You’re the one in control.”
“In that case,” I murmured against his lips. “Get on your hands and knees.” He shivered, and I hoped-prayed to any deity I could think of-that it was only anticipation, not dread or regret. The hunger in his next kiss told me my prayers were answered. Then he turned around, just as I’d hoped.
Kneeling behind him, I ran my hands up his sides, just looking at him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Nothing, I’ve just…” Never seen you this way. Christ, you’re beautiful, Nathan. I cleared my throat. “Nothing.” Running my hands over his hips, I whispered again, more to myself this time, “Nothing at all.”
With one hand on the small of his back and the other guiding my own cock to him, I pushed against him. He tensed. Took a breath. Held it. I waited, moving my hand gently across his lower back to keep him aware of me, though somehow I doubted he’d have any difficulty remembering I was there.
When he released his breath, the tension in his back and shoulders seemed to melt away, and only then did I press harder against him.
The room spun around me as my cock slid into him, and I held on to his hips, trying to stay in the present. Even with my fingers digging into his hips, my grasp on reality slipped away, my head getting lighter with each stroke I took.
Then I realized that, overwhelmed as I was, I’d forgotten to breathe. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and the spinning slowed, but didn’t stop. I didn’t expect it to. Being inside him felt too damned good not to make me dizzy.
He tensed, his breath catching as I withdrew.
“You sure you’re okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, barely whispering. “I’m…” His breath caught again as I pushed back in. “Fuck, don’t-” Another gasp.
I stopped. “What? Don’t-”
“Don’t stop,” he growled, leaning back against me to pull me deeper.
Relief flooded through me, as if I’d expected him to call things to a halt. I wouldn’t have hesitated to stop, but he felt so good, so damned good, I didn’t want to stop.
We moved together, my hips mirroring his forward-and-back motions. I let him guide me, allowing him to find the speed that was most comfortable for him, and that speed was well past slow and gentle. Caution and uncertainty fell by the wayside in favor of desperation and hunger. I slammed into him, harder and faster in response to his pleas and growled demands for more. More than once, my body tried to lose control, but I willed myself to keep going. I couldn’t come yet. Please, God, not yet.
My legs burned with fatigue and, when it became too much, I lost speed. I ran my hands up and down his back as I struggled to catch my breath.
“Fuck,” he moaned. “Oh, fuck, you feel so good.”
“So do you,” I said. “I just had to slow down for a minute. My legs were getting tired.”
“Fine by me,” he said. “I like it like this, too.”
Taking longer strokes now, I rested one hand on the bed beside his and wrapped my other arm around his waist. I’d intended to trail my fingertips down his abs, to tease him just a bit before I stroked his cock, but the quivering beneath my touch fascinated me. When I exhaled against his spine, his abs contracted, and when I kissed the back of his shoulder, they relaxed as he released a shuddering breath.
I flattened my palm across his stomach. Instead of moving down, my hand slid up, toward his chest.
His body shifted slightly, and a second later, his hand was over mine, clasping it gently. In our earlier desperation, we hadn’t bothered to take off the cuffs, and they dangled noisily from his wrist, jingling each time we moved, each time he breathed.
Even though we moved slowly, each stroke was nearly too much, threatening to send me into the stratosphere with the electric pulses that rippled up my spine. My need for release bordered on painful, but this couldn’t be over yet. God only knew when-or if-I’d be able to do this with him again, and I intended to feel, savor and memorize every last stroke.
“Oh, God…” The vibration of his voice beneath my hand sent goose bumps all the way up my arm.
“Like that?” I said through clenched teeth, struggling to stay in control.
He took a breath, started to speak, but only moaned. Finally he managed a nod. A shudder worked its way through him. He was close, he had to be.
I freed my hand from his and slid it down his chest, intending to stroke his cock, but he grabbed my hand. He laced his fingers between mine and held our joined hands against his chest. I could only move from the hips now, but this closeness, this intimacy, overwhelmed me more than the violent, powerful thrusts from just minutes before.
Riding him slowly, holding him close this way, I lost myself in him. I completely and utterly lost myself in him. This wasn’t what I’d expected when I suggested pushing our boundaries with a set of handcuffs and some hard-won surrender. I’d only hoped to give him a chance to see that he could trust me, that I wouldn’t hurt him.
But I was the one surrendering to him. The more I held him and moved inside him, the more I realized just how much I wanted this. Not just the sex. This. Him. My eagerness for his trust, I realized, came from some deep, untapped well of emotions that I wasn’t supposed to feel for him.
Wasn’t supposed to, but did.
I wanted his touch.
I wanted his trust.
I wanted him.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, but damn if I’m going to try to stop it.
“Oh, God,” he groaned, a violent tremor shifting his body beneath mine. “Oh, God, Zach, don’t…”
“I won’t stop,” I said, thrusting a little harder. “I won’t stop unless you tell me to.” I kissed the back of his shoulder blade, and the resulting shiver was as much mine as his.
“Don’t stop,” he whispered. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop…” He groaned again, sounding almost on the verge of tears. Pushing himself against me, he said, “Please don’t stop…” His fingers tightened around mine, keeping my hand against his chest.
“Jesus, Nathan, I love the way you feel right now,” I said, trying to keep my teeth from chattering and my voice from cracking. “You’re close, I can feel it, and it’s-” My voice caught. “It’s fucking incredible.”
“Oh…my…God…” The sound vibrated against my hand beside his heartbeat. “Oh, God, Zach, I’m-” He gasped. Shuddered. “Fuck, I’m-” Another shudder, more violent this time. “Holy fuck-”
I didn’t think it was possible for me to be more turned on than I was in that instant, but when Nathan’s hot semen hit my wrist and forearm, I could take no more. With a deep groan that seemed to come from somewhere else, I managed a few last, desperate thrusts before my voice fell to little more than a whimper and I came.
We both sank to the bed, collapsing under our own weight. After catching my breath for a moment, I managed to push myself up on my arms and get rid of the condom before dropping back onto the bed beside him, completely spent.
His eyes were closed and his hand was over them, as if shielding them from a bright light.
“Jesus,” he said.
I reached for his other hand. “I think you can probably take that off now.” Before he could even lift his hand, I hit the quick release and the cuff opened.
“Can’t believe I forgot I was wearing that,” he
laughed, rubbing his wrist gingerly.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
He turned his wrist, probably checking for welts, then shook his head and put his arm around me. “Nope. Not a mark.”
I just smiled, but said nothing.
After a lengthy silence, he sat up, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “I need a cigarette.”
“You’re not using the safe word now, are you?” I laughed.
“No.” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss me. “No, I never even thought of using it. I just really, really need a fucking cigarette now.”
Chapter Thirty-three
A few days had passed since the night a set of handcuffs brought us closer together, and we found ourselves sitting in silence in his living room. Nathan sat on the couch and I laid across it, my head on his lap and my feet on the armrest. He combed his fingers through my hair, the slow, repetitive motions nearly lulling me to sleep.
It had been a long day for both of us. He’d been in depositions all day. I’d been up to my eyebrows in both people and equipment that refused to work properly. Ah, the American dream, I thought. Working yourself into the ground so you’re too damned tired to do anything else.
His fingers slowed, gradually losing the rhythm that had almost put me to sleep. It wasn’t a deliberate change of pace. If anything, it seemed as though he’d forgotten his fingers were moving at all.
I watched him, but he didn’t notice. His eyes seemed unfocused, fixed on something in the room but not really looking at it. He seemed to be looking right through it, staring at something that was a million miles away, just like the thoughts in which he was lost.
“Hey,” I said. He looked down, blinking once as if trying to bring himself back to the present. I touched his arm gently. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He held my gaze for a moment, then looked away. “I was just thinking.”