Designs of Desire

by O'Riley, Tempeste

  James did as ordered. Seth quickly slid the remainder of the ribbon around James’s throat and knotted it, leaving a long tail, which he trailed down James’s chest.

  Seth’s hand slid around his neck and convulsed at the nape as he let out a deep growl. James could see the flash of heat and lust in his eyes. “I knew that color would look delicious against your skin.”

  Before the flutter in his gut could distract him, he asked, “Why?”

  “Why the ribbons, baby?” Seth skimmed his hands over his shoulders.

  James nodded when words failed him, Seth’s hands keeping his body wound so tight he had trouble thinking.

  “You are not ready for true bindings of any kind, but I want to see how you will look one day, all stretched out for me, wearing nothing but the tokens I give you,” Seth explained, his swirling hazel eyes deep with barely restrained passion and longing.

  James let out a moan at the thought of being possessed in such a manner by his lover.

  Seth’s hands had not stopped teasing and exploring the entire time, and he now bent to his task, kissing his way down and then back up to James’s small, tight nipples. Drawing the hardened bud into his mouth, he flicked it with his tongue before lightly biting down.

  Seth’s lips and teeth latched onto his throat, worrying the flesh. He felt a tug on the ribbon around his neck, but unlike the panic he expected, it made him feel possessed and desired. Seth increased the intensity of the kisses as he settled his weight onto him. James moaned and rocked his hips up into Seth, wordlessly pleading with his lover to please hurry.

  Seth chuckled, the sensual tone shooting straight to James’s cock. “Not yet, pet. We have a long way to go.”

  James wanted to cry, or possibly pounce on Seth, but was distracted from his plotting when Seth reached over and lifted a wide black scarf. “I am going to cover your eyes now, and then we will begin.”

  James swallowed hard but nodded. He closed his eyes before the scarf actually touched him, hoping to hide his unease from Seth. James felt Seth’s fingers card through his hair and then the scarf settle across his eyes, what little light bled through his lids suddenly absent. His breath caught and he tensed, unable to hide his fear.

  “Let me ask you something, James. What are you afraid of?”

  “I—”

  “Are you afraid I will beat you?” James felt the tip of one of Seth’s fingers slide up the underside of his cock, tracing the large vein.

  James moaned and shook his head. “No!”

  “Worried I will cut or pierce your skin?” The finger disappeared but returned with friends. Seth ran both hands up and down James’s thighs before he pushed his legs up and out a little more, exposing his tight opening even more.

  James managed to grind out a no as Seth worked a slicked finger around and then into his body. He hadn’t even heard the snick of the lube being opened. He wrapped his hands with the scarf to hold on better and rocked against the invading finger.

  “Then be a good boy, and let me love you,” Seth cooed. The finger gone, James tried to reach out but the scarf kept him in place.

  Something, fur maybe, gently touched his cheek before it slid down his throat and chest to tease over each nipple in turn. It was an odd sensation, the silky slide of the fur against his hot skin. Seth continued to stroke his chest and thighs with the material, sometimes with a touch so light it tickled. Unable to see, he had no way of predicting where the fur would touch next, which served to heighten every touch, sound, and feeling.

  After an eternity, or so it seemed to James, of the sensual teasing, the fur wrapped around his cock in a solid grip. “Oh God….” The fur wrapped fist began to stroke in long, slow pulls, drawing out a groan that James was sure came straight from his soul. The sensation was strange, a silky slide and then prickles as the hand slid in the other direction. The other hand reached out to pinch and roll his nipples, effectively overloading his body in sensation.

  “Don’t tense up and do not come yet.” All touch suddenly stopped. Seth remained settled between his thighs, but for the longest time there was no touch or sound other than their breathing, until the telltale rip of foil and Seth shifting. Oh God, please let this be it. Please….

  With no other warning, Seth pressed into his entrance. James fought to breathe as Seth continued to push in, not stopping until he was fully seated. James moved to meet Seth’s unrelenting passion, tossing his head back and forth in ecstasy. The sensations were so powerful, he knew he wouldn’t last, not with all the sensual torture Seth had already put him through. He just hoped Seth wouldn’t deny him his release for much longer.

  “I can’t, sir. Please let me come!” James barely managed to keep himself from screaming as he begged.

  Seth hitched James’s legs higher, slamming into him over and over. The ribbon around his neck pulled sharply against his throat at Seth’s command. “Now, pet. Come for me.”

  Painting his chest and stomach with his hot seed, James keened and shook, arching his back, which drove Seth deeper. Seth continued to pound into his body, snapping his hips harder and faster than ever. The driving slams against his prostate along with the rest of the sensations helped to prolong James’s orgasm, drawing it out until his vision went white and the world stopped.

  As the world righted itself and came back into focus, James wondered at the strange but wonderful floating sensation. Seth’s exquisite hands caressed him, which helped him focus more, but his whole being felt the bliss of being wrapped in Seth’s arms and soul.

  It was in that state that James drifted off to sleep, happy in Seth’s arms.

  Chapter 19

  AS JAMES woke up, what he saw, both with his eyes closed and open, was what called him to his studio before the sun began to lighten the sky. By the time he realized he was being watched, he had already been up for hours.

  “Mother,” Seth whispered behind him. “He hates when people watch him paint. He never lets others see his work until he is satisfied with whatever he is working on.”

  “But look at him paint, dear, how can you not watch him?”

  “Agreed, but….”

  James tried to push away their whispered conversation but to no avail. Thankfully he was about done with his newest and final piece for the show. Britt would be by later that week to pick her pieces for the event. He hoped she would be happy with his offerings to her gallery.

  “Do you think he will sell me the one he’s working on now, Seth?” James could hear Terra’s lilting voice. Her accent was beautiful. He idly wondered why Seth’s wasn’t the same. Once in a while, when he was really turned on or exhausted, a little of the same brogue his parents spoke in would surface, but it was rare.

  He put down the brush he had been using, and turned in his art chair to face them. “Terra, this one is for the gallery show next weekend. I can’t sell it, but, um… if you would like you can join us at the show. The theme is touch and there will be many other artists shown as well.”

  “Stop abusing your lip, baby,” Seth chided gently. James released his bottom lip. He hadn’t realized he had been biting it until then. “I already acquired passes for them to join us. Are you done for now?”

  “Yes. I need to clean up, though.” He paused to look quickly at Terra and then back to Seth. “Did I forget something?”

  “Yes, baby. They invited us to brunch last night. So, go get your shower and I will lock up your studio for you.” Seth swatted his butt on his way past. He could hear Terra’s soft giggle as he closed the door to the bedroom, leaving them all behind.

  SETH’S car service picked them up and drove them to an exclusive club for brunch—Rhys followed close on his bike. The elegance of the building was intimidating, but James put on his best smile and he and Seth followed Seth’s parents inside. He was certain he looked like the poor cousin compared to Seth and his parents. Even Rhys had dressed up, though he was quiet and in the background as he guarded, not trusting the club security after the latest threat.
James was silently glad, though he wasn’t about to voice that relief.

  The inside was even more beautiful, surprising James. An elf-like woman glided to them and after speaking with Scott, led them to a partially secluded table. Once everyone was seated, the hostess passed out menus and left, letting them know their server would be right out. Only a moment or so later, people descended on the group, filling glasses, offering wine and starters—busy but subdued at the same time.

  Seth ordered for James and himself. James noticed Scott nod to himself, a pleased, small smile on his lips. Guess he really did learn most of his behaviors, outside the bedroom, from his parents. Cool.

  “So,” Terra began as she leaned in and patted his hand. “Are you excited about the show?”

  “I think terrified would be a better word. Your son convinced me, with help from my best friend, Chase, to cut back my hours at work and focus more on my art.” He still worried that Seth was making a much bigger deal about his art than he should and worried that he would not be able to afford the cut in hours. But Seth and Brittany had assured him his work was good enough, and Carl, his boss at Skye Designs, had promised he still had his job.

  “I have seen your work, dear boy. It’s very good. With him and Brittany behind you, you have nothing to fear.”

  James smiled, charmed by her faith in him and her loyalty and certainty in Seth. But then, the fastest way to win James over was to make Seth and Danni happy. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “I told you, it’s Terra. No need for formality.” She patted his hand again.

  Brunch was pleasant and things seemed to be going well until near the end. Rhys’s cell rang, and when he answered, his face went from stoic to furious.

  James watched as Rhys and Seth stepped away from the table, whispering furiously. After a few minutes they both came back to the table. “Mother, Father, I hate to do this but James and I have to go. Now.” He bit out the last word.

  Rhys was beside James with his forearm crutches in hand. “Here. We need to get back to your house before the cops do. Hurry.”

  Before long they were rushing to the cottage, James trying desperately not to panic. “What’s going on, Seth? Why did we just run out of there?”

  “Someone tried to set our home on fire. Well, your studio at least. Mark caught them but not before the fire was set.”

  “My house? My art? Oh, God!” James trembled so hard he was grateful Seth had waited to tell him until after they left and he was sitting. He was pretty sure Seth said more but he heard none of it. All he could think about was his art and his home. Someone hated him enough to attack his home? What had he ever done to deserve such violence?

  The fire department and police were already there when they arrived, much to his relief. James couldn’t understand why the arsonist/stalker wanted to hurt him, but the thought of dealing with this without the police there was not a pleasant idea either.

  His lawn was covered in firemen, hoses, and cops and the flashing lights hurt his eyes, but he was thankful for all of them. Dal, though he was in his police uniform, was the first official responder to come over to them. Seth held him tightly, he figured to stop him from bolting into the house to find out what damage was done.

  “James?”

  “Huh?” James mumbled, his focus entirely on the smoke coming from the back of his home. “What?”

  “James, Mr. Bryant.” That caught his attention, partially. “The fire didn’t get inside. It’s ok.”

  “It didn’t?” James asked. Dal had his attention completely.

  “No, sir. The person Mark caught tried to set your stone cottage on fire with, basically, Molotov cocktails. Had this been a wood home, it would have caused a lot of damage, I bet, but to stone? Just some charring probably.”

  James sagged in Seth’s arms. “So, you caught the stalker?” Seth asked, holding James tightly.

  “Yes, sir. But um, I don’t know if he was the one behind the threats and attack or if he’s just one of many.”

  Dal shuffled his feet back and forth. “What aren’t you telling me, Dal?”

  “It’s sick, man! How can you defend perverts like them?” someone screamed on the other side of the yard.

  James’s head snapped up, and he stared as the voice continued to spew forth hate and disgust. He recognized that voice. Oh, God, it can’t be. No, no, no!

  “Someone get him in the car, now!” Dal snapped.

  Before anyone knew what was happening, the screaming man broke free and charged at James and Seth, though James figured it was really just at him—Seth was just in the wrong place. Without thought, James pushed Seth hard, causing him to stumble and fall to the side just as he braced for Joey, James’s linebacker-sized baby brother, to slam into him.

  It took a moment to realize that Rhys and Dal intercepted Joey and that Dal was in the process of pulling him up out of the dirt.

  Before he could get himself together enough to say anything, Seth was back by his side, holding him tight. After a few moments, he realized Seth was more holding him up than holding on to him. My own brother tried to set my house on fire? James could not make sense of the events.

  Dal drug Joey off and shoved him into the back of his police car. As he moved away, he snapped at someone James didn’t know, “Why wasn’t he in the damn car already?” The venom in the second set of instructions chilled James to the core.

  Everything after that was a blur.

  HIS mother had called him for the first time in years, demanding that he come down to the station and “fix” it—like it was his fault Joey and Mike were in jail. James was unsure what to expect, but feared the confrontation just the same. At the last moment he decided against asking Seth to take off work to accompany him, both because he didn’t want to subject Seth to his mother’s vitriol and because he knew he needed to face her himself, no matter how much he did not want to.

  James knew they had to be an interesting sight—he and his entourage—as they entered the police station to deal with his family and their problems. Chase walked beside him, to his left, with Mel Holcomb, his lawyer, to his right, and Rhys in front. He didn’t see why Rhys needed to act as his guard anymore, but he had been out-voted and told to “suck it up.” He’d thought of a few things he would have liked to suck, but only on Seth.

  “Mr. Bryant,” called a deep voice, one James did not know. The man before him was shorter than him, about five-nine or so, heavyset with dark curly hair cut in a high-n-tight. He stood next to Officer Dal Sayer, who was in his uniform. “I’m Detective Carthage. You already know Officer Sayer. Thank you for coming down.”

  James nodded and took the hand the detective extended.

  “Hello, sir. This is Mr. Holcomb, my attorney, Chase Manning my best friend and assistant, and Rhys Sayer, my bodyguard,” James explained as he gestured to each man in turn.

  “I understand that it was actually Mrs. Bryant, James’s mother, who requested this meeting, is that correct?” Mel asked. He had already instructed James to let him handle most of the talking, something he was more than happy to cooperate with. The thought of seeing his mother again terrified him.

  “Yes, she is insisting that this is not a criminal issue, but rather a sibling problem and that you will drop the charges against Joseph Bryant,” Carthage explained, looking past Mel, to James. “She is also very vocal about Officer Mike Delanco’s arrest. But, as I already explained to your mother, Mr. Bryant, you cannot not drop the charges, that it was out of your hands due to hate crimes and arson. However, considering your family history, and the nature of the situation we chose to sponsor the meeting here at the police department for your safety.”

  “I bet she is,” Chase grumbled. He slid his right hand down James’s back, settling it on his lower back. “James, you don’t have to do this. Mel can deal with all the legal stuff, ya know.”

  “Yes,” James murmured. He opened his mouth to continue when he heard a voice he thought to never hear again. His mother barreled towa
rd him, face streaked with tears and skin blotchy from crying.

  “James!” James stared at her as she raced forward. For the longest time, James had hoped to have a chance to talk with his mother again, but not like this…. Not where she was again siding with someone who hurt him. For a moment James wondered why she couldn’t love him too, but he knew that was a line of thought that led nowhere good.

  Rhys and Chase stepped in front of James at the same time—James would find it amusing later, when he had a chance to think back on the day—effectively blocking access to her oldest child.

  “Move out of my way, now! I need to speak to James. I won’t have my son locked up like some common criminal!”

  “Ma’am,” Rhys rumbled. He folded his massive arms across his chest as he stared her down. “Your younger son stalked and terrorized James and his family. He then attempted to set his home on fire. These are the facts of the situation. Now, take a step back.”

  James watched as Chase took almost the same stance, though he was so much smaller than Rhys. “Is there somewhere this farce of a meeting can move to so Jamie can sit down?” Chase snapped.

  James wasn’t sure whom he was asking, but Dal came to the rescue. “I have a room ready. This way, please.” Once everyone filed in, Detective Carthage pushed the door closed.

  Mel and James sat on one side of the conference table, while Chase and Rhys continued to stand, flanking them. Dianne, James’s mother, sat primly across from him and glowered between James and Chase. Dal and Carthage kept neutral positions on the side.

  “You will drop these ridiculous charges against Joey, this instant! He’s a good boy, a good son, and I will not have you destroy his life with your perversions. I want the charges against Mike dropped as well. He’s a good cop.”

  He stared at his mother, debating how to respond to her insane demands and assertions. Joey and Mike good boys? Hearing her side with them, again, made his stomach hurt and his head spin. “You never listened when I was a kid and told you what they did to me, well now you have no choice but to deal with it. Joey is not a good boy and Mike?” He gave a sad, humorless laugh. “He’s nothing more than a bully and rapist who gets off on hurting others.”