Damian entered his boy slowly, pushing all the way in, and withdrawing with equal slowness, until only the tip was held inside by the tight opening. He thrust hard then, sliding back in one powerful glide.
Nick was moaning constantly, unaware that he was making a sound. He struggled to impale himself, pulling against his restraints, not wanting to free himself but rather to feel the reassurance of the bonds that anchored him. The pain was but a burning memory now, drowned in the pleasure that flooded his body. He was flying, higher than Damian had ever taken him before, a slave to the cock driving inside him. A touch of that shaft brushing over the seat of his pleasure drove his orgasm to blossom slowly inside him. He was so relaxed, he didn’t strain for it; he allowed it to come to him, slowly building until the crescendo of ecstasy echoed through his body like an unearthly note of music.
Damian released the ring of leather from around his cock, and Nick convulsed as he felt the surge of his master’s release inside him, even through the condom. And then he was falling into darkness with an orgasm more intense than he had ever experienced.
DAMIAN COLLAPSED, sweaty and panting for air over the slender body beneath him. Nick had clenched around his cock with such power that he’d had no control over his own climax, helplessly pouring his seed within the boy as they came at the same time. The warmth of the body under his, pliant and supple, was comforting as he floated in his own post-orgasmic haze.
He stroked the boy’s slender flank, his palm cupping the curve of Nick’s scarred hip, thinking, The conquerer and the conquered, but who is playing which role?
He stood up, pulling his cock free from the unconscious boy and disposing of the condom. Quickly Damian released the cuffs and caressed the beautiful face, lips curved in a satisfied smile while Nick’s chest fluttered shallowly with each breath he took.
Damian picked the boy up and carried him to the office, wrapping him in a soft blanket and holding him in his arms, rocking Nick as he drifted in the afterglow.
Nick opened his eyes and smiled sweetly.
“Flying high, baby?” Damian asked softly.
“Oh, yeah,” Nick purred and snuggled closer. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”
Damian said simply, “I’m glad.”
“Thank you, sir,” Nick sighed.
“Nicky, the scene is over. I’m Damian and you’re Nick now,” the older man said, cuddling his boy.
“Thank you anyway, Damian,” Nick said drowsily.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get you dressed and home,” Damian said, raising Nick to a seated position.
Nick winced as his backside met the couch. “Ow.”
Damian chuckled, amused. “You’ve got three beautiful welts to remember me by.”
“No danger of me forgetting you.” Nick shifted to lean on the arm of the couch, exploring the raised flesh gingerly with his fingertips, a bemused expression on his face. “Why did I agree to this again?”
Damian turned his face, holding his chin in place while he gazed deep into his eyes. “To live on the edge, Nicholas. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? To feel the rush, the thrill of fear, that moment when pain turns to pleasure and you’re free.”
“I was free,” Nick said slowly. “I was tied down and completely at your mercy, and yet I was free.”
“That’s why we both do it,” Damian whispered and kissed him.
Nick clung to the older man, sensing the desperation in his kiss. He tried to reassure Damian with the fervency of his response, ending up straddled on Damian’s lap when the heated kiss ended.
“I’ll never hurt you, baby,” Damian said, caressing the sculpted cheekbone.
“I know,” Nick whispered.
DAMIAN HAD led the trembling young man into the restroom and applied a cooling gel to his backside, before helping him dress.
The adrenaline rush abandoned Nick, leaving him drowsy. Damian was afraid of his own impulses; it would be far safer for him to simply put the boy on the train and send him home, but somehow he needed to feel that warm body wrapped safely in his arms tonight.
And on a practical note, Damian wanted to make sure there were no aftershocks, physical or emotional. So he took Nick to his home once again and into his bed.
He made Nick drink a glass of orange juice and soothed the welts with gel once more, before leading him to the bedroom. Nick accepted all of his orders, cuddling close as soon as Damian was under the sheets with him, falling asleep easily, feeling safe and secure in the older man’s embrace.
Damian smiled at the irony; Nick had complete faith in him.
So why couldn’t he trust himself?
Chapter 12
NICK OPENED his eyes to see Damian, his head propped on his hand, leaning on his elbow, watching him with a smile. He smiled back and stretched, wincing when his sore ass flexed against the mattress.
“Ow.”
“One to ten, how much does it hurt?”
“Maybe a two,” Nick hazarded.
Damian smiled smugly. “Damn, I’m good. Probably won’t even bruise.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Nick exclaimed. “I probably won’t be able to sit down for a week!”
Damian laughed. “Go check yourself out.”
Maneuvering carefully and groaning loudly with every twinge, Nick made it out of bed and went into the bathroom, turning to look over his shoulder, trying to see his arse.
Damian came in after him, saying, “Very dramatic, but I happen to know that it doesn’t hurt that much. Here, look.” He opened the door to the linen cupboard, revealing a full-length mirror on the inside. Nick studied the pink lines on his arse, looking absurdly proud of himself.
Damian stepped in front of him, their bodies just touching, and drew a finger lightly over each welt. “Swelling’s going down; you’ll be fine tomorrow. Not a mark. If you had paler skin, you might have bruised, but I wouldn’t have whipped you the same way.”
Nick took a tiny step forward, sliding their chests together seductively. Damian circled his arms around his boy, and Nick slid his hands over the older man’s muscled shoulders. Their lips met in a languorous kiss and Nick could feel his cock start to harden. The hands that had hurt him last night were sliding over his back, pulling him closer, the restraint holding him in place made of flesh and bone this morning rather than leather, the touch even more welcome.
“Did you like it?” Nick murmured between kisses.
“Very much,” Damian responded softly. “Did you?”
“Yeah. Just remembering it makes me hot.”
“I had noticed that,” Damian said, insinuating one leg between Nick’s and rubbing their erections together.
“Were you going to do something about it?” Nick asked provocatively.
“Why is it always my job?” Damian complained facetiously.
“You’re the Top,” Nick pointed out. “Besides, you like doing things to me.”
“I do,” Damian confessed. “But I had other plans for today. I was going to go ride my horse.”
“I don’t think I could do much horseback riding today,” Nick said ruefully, wiggling his arse, knowing that Damian was watching in the mirror.
“Maybe you could ride something else?”
“What did you have in mind?” Nick whispered.
Damian slid his hands over Nick’s buttocks, patting them gently. “I could give you a hint.”
“Surprise me,” Nick said and kissed the older man.
Damian broke the kiss and took the boy by the hand, leading him back to the bed. They fell onto the mattress with Damian on top.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry.” Damian didn’t release Nick, but he flipped them over so that the boy was on top.
In the ascendant position for the first time with Damian, Nick attacked his mouth, kissing him aggressively and grinding his hips so their cocks rubbed together. He moved so that the light hair on Damian’s chest tickled him. The memory of the previous evening’s activities combine
d with the visual evidence left on his buttocks made him burn for release. His hips moved faster as his excitement built.
“Baby, please, ride me,” Damian whispered. “Take control.”
Nick paused to consider what he’d been offered. “How—”
“Kneel over me,” Damian ordered. “I’ll get you ready.” He reached for the lube as Nick balanced on his hands and knees.
His back arched sensuously when Nick felt fingers caress his hard shaft, fondle his balls, and finally find his secret opening. He arched his back, rocking to encourage the fingers. “Oh yes,” he hissed with pleasure as they entered his tender hole.
“God, you look so hot fucking yourself on my fingers,” Damian muttered.
“Wait’ll you see me fuck myself on your cock,” Nick gasped.
Damian looked up startled, to find a wickedly provocative smile on his young lover’s face. “I think maybe I created a monster,” he said.
“No, I was always a monster,” Nick said. “Just ask my mother.”
“Can it wait ’til after I fuck you senseless?” Damian asked somewhat breathlessly as Nick positioned himself above the older man’s cock, and Damian finished rolling on the condom.
“I think that might be better,” Nick agreed. He lowered himself, freezing at the first moment of penetration to allow himself time to adjust. “I want you to concentrate… on what you’re… doing.”
Damian moved his hands to support Nick’s trembling thighs. “I’ll do my best, babe.”
“I guess that’s all I can expect of you,” Nick teased. His eyes rolled back in his head as he allowed himself to slide further down on Damian’s cock. He groaned when the hard shaft rubbed over his prostate and he was fully impaled. In this position, Damian was buried deeper inside him than he had ever experienced. Having the older man inside him was unbearably arousing and for a moment Nick gave himself over to exploring the ability the man had to make him feel as if he was submitting even when he was on top.
He leaned forward to kiss the other man, pulling himself off, until the head of Damian’s cock bumped at his entrance, before he plunged down again on the hard flesh, feeling Damian penetrate him a second time.
“Ride me, baby,” Damian ordered and Nick hastened to obey, raising himself and letting gravity sink the large intruder deep inside.
Damian held him still and thrust up powerfully inside his young lover, fucking him hard and fast, until the boy was panting, his eyes wild with need. Damian braced his feet, slapping their flesh together.
“Stroke yourself for me,” he commanded, and Nick leaned his weight on one hand, using the other to jack himself in time to the powerful thrusts, moaning as he started to come, spurting over Damian’s chest, the glistening fluid matting his hair.
He clenched around the older man and the tightness and heat made Damian come with a shout, driving up hard inside Nick.
His hips fell back on the bed and Nick fell forward limply, resting his forehead on Damian’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he groaned.
“Give me a little time to reload, baby, and I’m your man,” Damian joked weakly.
“Yes,” Nick breathed and Damian wondered what he was agreeing to.
Damian realized that Nick had gone to sleep when he heard a faint snore. Straining, he lifted the boy up and off him, settling him on his side. Exhausted, he dropped the condom on the floor by the bed, figured the hell with it, they’d just have to be sticky when they woke up, and curled up protectively around his slender lover.
THEY SPENT a lazy Sunday napping, eating, watching television, sometimes with the sound off, and talking.
Cupping Nick’s scarred hip in his hand, Damian asked, “How did you get that scar? You said it was an accident.”
Nick closed his eyes briefly.
“I’m sorry.” Damian bit his lip. “You don’t have to tell me if it makes you feel uncomfortable to remember it.”
“It’s not the accident. I really don’t remember much about it,” Nick said soberly. “It was my mother’s face when I woke up in hospital. You see—” He cut himself off when his voice trembled and looked up at the ceiling. “They said I might not walk again.”
Horrified, Damian took Nick’s hand in his and gave it a squeeze, trying to convey his sympathy without words.
Nick gulped a few times and laughed shakily. “I was lying there looking up, wondering if I was going to be staring at ceilings for the rest of my life.”
“What happened?”
“I was riding my motorcycle; too fast, the police said.” Nick shrugged. “They’re probably right. I always liked speed. I went down on a curve. I don’t remember why. Smashed the bike up as well as my hip.”
Damian sucked in a breath. “I’m sure your mother was more concerned about you.”
“Yeah, she and my dad. Internal bleeding, broken hip that had to be put back together; two plates and sixteen screws. Months of physical therapy to get me back on my feet.” Nick shook his head. “My sister was pretty pissed at me too, but she was always there for my sessions.”
“Sounds like you have a nice family,” Damian offered tentatively.
“That was the worst part,” Nick said. “I never meant to make them worry about me.”
Intuitively guessing what the young man left out—the fear that he’d end up in a wheelchair, the pain he’d endured through his recovery, the regret for hurting his parents and sister through his own carelessness—Damian turned the subject.
“And the tattoo?”
Nick looked down at the bird, with its wings raised in flight, each feather tipped in flame. “When I knew I was going to walk again—”
“A phoenix,” Damian said softly.
“That’s me. Crash and burn, and then rising up from the ashes,” Nick said, his tone mocking.
“It takes courage to do that, Nicky. I think it was a good way to commemorate winning what must have been a very difficult challenge.”
“Thanks.” Nick looked gratified, as if he had never thought he’d done much worthy of admiration.
“So you liked motorbikes.”
“And surfing, skydiving, dirt biking, snowboarding,” Nick said regretfully.
“Skateboarding?”
“I used to shred, man.”
“You’re an adrenaline junkie. How come you don’t do any of that anymore?”
“I promised my parents I wouldn’t worry them like that again.” Nick sighed. “No more motorcycle.”
Damian chuckled.
“It’s not funny. I miss doing all those things. I always managed some kind of part-time job to pay for them.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you,” Damian explained. “I was just thinking if you hadn’t made that promise, you might never have found your way into my clutches.”
“What do you mean?” Nick asked, although he was beginning to feel he might have a clue.
“Nothing gets the adrenaline rushing like this, does it?”
Nick stared at him, his mind racing.
Damian stared back, wondering if he was nothing more than a substitute for high-octane sports. Perhaps when the novelty began to wear off, Nick would be gone, looking for new thrills somewhere else. He sighed and looked away, wondering if the novelty of getting to know this fascinating, complicated young man would wear off for him too.
“I never thought of it that way.”
Damian began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking about what your parents would say if you told them about the new hobby you’ve found to keep yourself occupied.” Damian grinned at the stricken look on Nick’s face.
“Yeah, I’m sure they’d be thrilled.” Nick’s horrified expression faded as he laughed, gleefully adding, “They’d probably want to meet you, make sure you played safe. Wouldn’t you if you had a kid?”
“My son is a little young for this yet, but yeah, I would want to be sure he had good enough self-esteem to keep himself safe. I wouldn’t feel like I’d done my
job if Wyatt stumbled into this and got hurt,” Damian said seriously.
“You have a kid?” Nick sounded amazed and drew away a bit. “I thought you were gay.”
“I am, but I didn’t always know it,” Damian said. “My ex and I married young. I was seventeen, she was eighteen. I thought I’d found the perfect woman. She was a tomboy and an athlete, lanky and tall. Kind of boyish.” He shook his head regretfully. “She was the one who figured out I was gay, and broke the news to me.”
“That must have been… devastating,” Nick said tentatively.
“Especially since we’d just had our son. She thought she couldn’t get pregnant because of all her running, but surprise.” Damian looked out the window and took a deep breath. “The hardest thing was not being able to live in the same house with my son, watching him grow and change every day. “
His voice soft with sympathy, Nick asked, “How do you deal?”
“You just do.” Damian seemed to realize his voice was harsh and softened it. “It wouldn’t have been good for Wyatt anyway to be known as my son. My work was beginning to attract attention and I never wanted to subject him to the kind of publicity that goes along with being sexually controversial. That kind of attention can be unhealthy for a kid. That’s why I changed my name also.”
“Damian isn’t your real name?”
“Neither is Wolfe. I thought it gave me an aura of menace.” Damian laughed, sounding anything but menacing.
“So what’s your real name, then?”
Damian groaned. “Thomas Reynaud.”
“I like that,” Nick said thoughtfully.
“Doesn’t pack quite the punch as Damian Wolfe, though.”
“No, but it’s nice. And your son’s name?”
“Wyatt Reynaud,” Damian said, his voice softening. He held out his arm so that Nick could see the initials W.R. tattooed on the inside of his wrist. “He’s a great kid. Very creative, very sweet.”
“You must miss him.”
Dreamspinner Press Year Three Greatest Hits Page 18