by Jo Davis
The other man shuddered. “You know I do.”
“Good.” He kissed the side of his friend’s head. “I think I have just the plan to help us both blow off enough steam so that we’ll sleep like babies. It involves some role-playing and it might get intense, though.”
Bastian gave a shaky laugh. “Are you kidding? Count me in.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to do to you.”
“Doesn’t matter. I trust you.” He paused. “Can we go bareback?”
A thrill shot to every cell in Michael’s body. “I’m clean. You?”
“Yes. So is Katrina.” Pulling back, he looked Michael in the eye. “Earlier, she and I didn’t use anything. We should have discussed it together with you first, but we got carried away. I’m sorry.”
“I wouldn’t trust anyone else except you two,” he said seriously. “I’m in this for the duration, so if you want to go natural, I’m in—as long as it’s just that way between the three of us. If we play with others, we glove up. And we don’t play outside our trio without us all being on the same page,” he added with a sudden spurt of jealousy. Bastian’s fling with sweet little Cory still rankled.
“Agreed.”
Happy with this development, he stood and pulled Bastian to his feet. “Come on. I have another room we can use so we don’t wake our sleeping beauty.”
Bastian’s eyes locked with his, filled with longing. Need. Heat spread through his limbs, familiar yet new at the same time. As incredible as the fact seemed to him, he’d never been alone with Bastian this way. Not once, excluding when Bastian had blown him in the limo. And he suddenly couldn’t fathom why.
Michael arched a brow, lips turning up in a sensual smile. “This way.”
Bastian followed him through the den and down a short hallway. At the end, they turned right and walked into a spare bedroom that Michael had obviously prepared before coming to get him.
Eyes wide, he studied the scene. This room was as gorgeous as any other on Michael’s estate, done in dark chocolate tones. A huge king-sized bed provided the centerpiece, a mirror on the ceiling above it. Four massive oak posts were adorned with leather restraints. Secured to the headboard was a new addition to the room: a length of silver chain attached to a leather collar.
Oh, shit! He jerked his gaze from the bed.
“I’m not a Dom, like Blaze, but sometimes I like a dangerous edge to sex. Like when I fucked Katrina in the alley behind the club, no matter who might be around. This could get rougher. Is that going to be a problem?”
“N-no.” His cock was already making a large tent in his pajama bottoms to prove his eagerness.
“Good. Remember, no matter what happens in this room, it’s just me, and I won’t really hurt you—at least not more than you can handle. Okay?”
“Yes.” God, yes. Take me!
“Safe word? Because ‘no’ sometimes means ‘yes,’ and we need a word that means ‘stop.’ ”
“Sable.”
“Sable?”
He flushed. “The color of your hair.”
Michael looked pleased. “All right. Sable, and I stop.”
“I trust you.”
Michael seized his arm, abruptly flinging him against the wall with enough force to drive the air from his lungs. The man pressed close, resting his palms on either side of Bastian’s head. His lips hovered near, whispered a dark promise.
“I’m going to make you scream.”
“No.” He slipped into his part easily, caught up in this wicked side of Michael. So frightening, yet exciting.
“Oh yeah.”
Michael kicked his legs apart and settled between them, fitting every hard contour of his perfect body to his own. The huge bulge in his friend’s boxer briefs evidenced his desire, and Bastian was helpless to stop the answering fire beginning to consume him. The other man ground his hips in slow circles, teasing.
His breath caught as Michael buried one hand in his hair, cupped his face with the other. Slowly, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against Bastian’s, sipped. Their tongues touched, licked, deepening into a kiss. With a groan of pent-up longing, he melted as Michael ate his mouth, devouring him.
Michael pulled back slightly, panting, his dark eyes glittering dangerously. “You know better than anyone what I want, what I need. I am going to make you scream. I own you now.”
“Oh, God.” His dick jerked in response. He’d waited for too long for this.
Michael laughed, a purely sexual sound. One palm skimmed over Bastian’s muscled chest, then to his straining crotch. “You’re mine. I’m gonna tie you down, make you beg for mercy. Pop quiz: who do you belong to?”
Bastian could barely speak. This was the man who turned him on like no one else. Predatory, with wicked tastes that made him a little afraid, and who he was sure would take his experiences to heights no one else ever had, not even Blaze.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Michael warned.
“You, Michael. I belong to you,” he rasped. Strong fingers plucked at the drawstring on his pajamas, worked down the fabric. Jesus, Michael smelled so damned good.
“That’s right. In this room, I’m your master, and when you’re desperate for mercy, screaming my name, I’ll show you none.” He slid the sleep pants down Bastian’s legs, face darkening as his cock sprang free. Pressing close again, he breathed another promise into his captive’s mouth. “No mercy, baby. Make no mistake—I’m going to punish you until you submit to my will. Fuck the hell out of that beautiful body. There’s no turning back now.”
Pulse hammering, Bastian watched as Michael stepped back and removed his boxers. Totally naked, he was a pagan god, and never failed to make his mouth water.
“Get on the bed,” he ordered. “Facedown.”
Bastian did as he was told and lay on his stomach, his dick like a steel pipe squashed between him and the mattress. His wrists were jerked behind his back and bound with a piece of rope, tight enough to give him pause. But Michael said he wouldn’t truly hurt him, and he trusted his lover.
The other man’s weight pressed him down, stiff cock sliding along his rear. One hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, jerked his head back. Then the padded leather collar was worked over his head and tightened, as well. Belatedly, he realized that the device was a choke collar, a chain looped through it, and a ripple of real fear shot through him. Along with a mad craving unlike anything he’d experienced before.
“You’re my prisoner, my sex slave. Have any idea what I do to them?” his captor growled.
“N-no.”
“You’ll find out. On your knees.”
Michael moved off him and stood at the side of the bed, waiting. Insides shaking in anticipation, Bastian went to him on his knees. The man reached behind him, wrapped the chain around his wrist for leverage, and gave a vicious yank, causing him to gasp in pain—and pleasure.
“Suck me.”
Bastian bent to him, desperate to wrap his fingers around Michael’s hot, thick shaft, to touch his body. But his submission, his punishment, was part of this evening’s rules. As a bottom, his role was to give his master as much pleasure as possible, to surrender his body with complete trust. Allow his master to do whatever he wished. Michael would tolerate nothing less. A thrill knotted his stomach.
Bastian licked the wide, pearly head, then took the cock into his mouth. Sucked deeper, deeper. Cherished the silky skin between his lips. Michael groaned, hands pushing his head down in rhythm to his strokes.
“That’s my boy. Jesus, yeah. Suck it.”
He took the entire length down his throat, lips grazing the very base. He might be bound, but he had power over his master at the moment and it filled him, aroused him. Michael must have sensed this, and pulled out.
The man laughed. “No, you don’t. Lie on your stomach again, feet at the headboard.”
He did, turning his head to the side to rest his cheek against the bedspread, and the position stretched the chain to its lim
it. The collar exerted enough pressure to completely subdue him, remind him of his submission, but not enough to harm him.
His legs were spread wide, his ankles placed in the restraints. He craned his neck to look around at Michael, and saw him holding a riding crop, tapping it against his palm, eyes black with lust.
“Now, babe, you’ll start begging.”
“No,” he whispered, wiggling to get away. But there was nowhere to go, and he knew he didn’t really want to escape. Still, he begged. “Please don’t.”
The blow landed across his buttocks, sending shock waves of stinging pain and erotic gratification to every cell in his body. Especially his cock. Raw hunger washed over him, fusing with the sweet torture.
“Please, no!”
Whack. “Are you going to cause me another second of worry, like you did when I found you in that filthy alley?”
Probably. “I’ll try not to.”
Whack. “You’d better not! Who’s your master?”
He twisted, unable to move. “You! No more, I’m begging you!” But the blows intensified.
“You know how to make this stop. Say the word.”
“No,” he murmured. His cock was a lightning rod for this torment.
Whack, whack, whack.
No mercy, he thought, and tears seeped from his eyes. Several more blows fell and his voice broke, along with the last shreds of his resistance. He was lost to this. “Master, please, I’m begging you.”
He was barely aware of Michael’s movements as the crop was tossed aside and the other man lay beside him. A hand burrowed in his hair and then Michael’s mouth captured his, licking away the tears.
“You did well, but I’m not through with you—not even close,” he said softly. “Tell me again—who owns you, body and soul?”
“Y-you. No one but you.” He tried to still his thundering heart.
“And what am I going to do to you?”
“Punish me.”
“That’s exactly right. And you’re going to love every minute. Isn’t that so?”
“Yes, sir.” Tremors shook him as he waited. The whipping had stung, but Michael had never truly hurt him. He wouldn’t. He’d said so. But just the hint of the unknown, that thrill of fear, nearly made him come.
Michael sat up and moved between his splayed legs. Bastian tried to see what he was doing, but couldn’t. Cool liquid was smoothed over his heated ass, easing the slight pain. His tormentor worked the oil over his skin, between his thighs, and rubbed his balls. Then his cheeks were parted and two big fingers plunged into his hole.
“Ohh.”
“Very good. That’s it, relax. Give yourself to me completely.”
Michael’s fingers stroked, working in the lube, stretching him. When his wet tongue joined his fingers, Bastian gasped as the fire surged again.
“You’re so tight. When I fuck you, you’re gonna scream.” He leaned over to the bedside table to get something. Bastian started when he saw that it was a rolled-up strip of black silk. “Wouldn’t want to wake the entire household, would we? Open your mouth.”
“No!” But Michael slipped the gag into place and tied it firmly at the back of his head.
“I’ve been in hell for so long, needing you this way. Dying to fuck you, but denying it to myself. You’re so damned gorgeous. Since you can’t speak, two fingers means ‘sable,’ okay?” Bastian nodded, and Michael moved to pick up something. “Remember this?”
Michael held the riding crop where he could see the rough crisscross weave of the leather handle. His eyes widened. It was shiny, slick with the oil.
“Let’s see if this end can make you beg, too.”
Bastian’s pulse tripped in alarm, half afraid Michael meant to go too far, and half afraid he didn’t. Walking the line between carnal pleasure and agony was a risky proposition.
His cheeks were spread and the handle probed his hole, inching inside, then out. In and out, delving deeper with each slow stroke. Exquisite little shocks radiated to every part of him. He whimpered into the gag, raising his hips.
“Like that, do you, my slut?”
A low, rumbling laugh, charged with lust, echoed in his ears. The handle worked faster, deeper. Treading the razor’s edge of pain, and still he silently begged for more. Didn’t know how far his lover would take this dangerous game, or how much he could stand. Suddenly the handle was removed, but he had no chance to recover.
“Scream, boy. No one will hear you. You’re mine!”
The weight of Michael’s body pressed him down, covering him like a blanket, the tip of his swollen cock pushing at his tight entrance. Teasing, tormenting. With a powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.
Sensitized as he was by now, the cock owning his ass was pure agony and pleasure rolled into one. He screamed, thrashing, fighting against the restraints, but it was no use. His master rode him, strong thighs gripping his hips, heavy balls slamming against his. The collar compressed his throat as Michael wrapped the chain tighter, slowly cutting off his air as he fucked him. Bastian wasn’t afraid. He was riding high on euphoria, secure in the knowledge that Michael had him. Would never let him go.
At that moment, he knew what it was like to be totally owned, under another man’s complete command. Wild and forbidden.
Oh yes, yes. Don’t stop. Please ride me, fuck me. . . .
His muffled screams turned to cries of helpless passion and mingled with Michael’s. Tears streamed down his face as he reveled in his lover’s big cock filling his ass, pounding him, splitting him in two. So ready to explode—
“Ahh! Fuck, yes!” Michael fell against his back, rocked with his release, spewing hot cum deep inside his channel. Shuddered again and again until he was spent, and then pulled out. Without allowing Bastian to come.
Bastian’s ankles were freed from the restraints. Then Michael flipped him on his back, hands still bound. He removed the collar, but made no move to take off the gag or untie him. Instead, he gave Bastian a sultry look.
“I’m going to feast on you, boy. Devour every drop you have to give, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Do you understand?”
He nodded, knew he couldn’t have spoken a word, gag or not. The other man placed a pillow under his hips, elevating him. His shaft strained, eager and pulsing.
“Spread your legs.” He did. “Wider.”
Dazed, he gazed up into the mirrored ceiling for the first time. His body lay sprawled before his lover like a decadent, tasty offering. He shivered, watching the bird’s-eye view of Michael’s dark head dipping low, moaned as his tongue licked away the warm juices streaming down his ass.
“God, we taste good.” Then he worked upward, laving Bastian’s balls, licking the ridge of his cock.
Bastian squirmed at the sweet torture of it. Michael grinned, took Bastian’s cock into his mouth. Sucking, eating him. Bastian arched his hips and began to pump, mindless with lust. Oh, he had to have this man’s hot mouth working him. Had to have all of him, and give all to him.
The pressure built, molten fire. His cock exploded, and he screamed in ecstasy, viewing the scene through a haze. With only a slight hesitation at first, his master drank, throat working, his satisfaction apparent as their eyes met. Bastian shuddered, coming again and again. True to his word, his lover didn’t stop until he’d wrung every last drop from his body.
Spent, Bastian went limp, unable to move. His eyes drifted closed and he was vaguely aware of the gag and the last of the bindings being removed. Being pulled into the circle of Michael’s arms, tender kisses being pressed to his brow. The musky scent of them entwined together, slick with sex, sweat, and their natural, earthy scents, enticed his senses. He loved how good Michael smelled.
“God, Bastian, did I hurt you? Because if I did, I’d never forgive myself.”
He managed to pry open an eye, and gazed up into his lover’s anxious face. “No—well, not much, and it was in a good way. That wicked side of you scared me a little, but it sent me up i
n flames, too. You’ll notice I didn’t use my safe word.”
“Did you like it enough to do it again sometime?”
“Are you kidding? I came so hard I thought I’d turn inside out! I’d love to.” He thought a second. “I think this sort of scene would be a little rough for our girl, though.”
“Maybe not. She likes naughty toys, and she likes it rough sometimes. She sure liked the scene behind the club, not to mention when you two performed for poor John. But right here and now? This is ours.”
Ours. Another word he never thought he’d hear from Michael. His insides hummed in happiness. “Sounds like heaven.”
“Bastian, I want you to know something.” His arms tightened. “I love you. Always have.”
His lover had said the words in the hospital, but Bastian had been recovering from a grave injury then. Hearing them now, when wrapped in the afterglow? Nothing could ever be more perfect. “And you’ve known for a long time how I feel. I love you, too. Even though it hasn’t been that long, I feel the same about Katrina.”
“Me, too. About us . . . I’m sorry it took me so long to wake up, but it’s the truth. I may not say it enough, but you’ll always know it.” He paused. “After we’re recovered, I’m going to make love to you.”
He smiled. “You just did. That’s what we did, even if the loving had an edge.”
“Make love again, then.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Michael grinned, his dark eyes feral. “I wasn’t asking.”
Fourteen
Katrina met Emma and Blaze in the foyer just as Simon shut the front door behind them. Blaze was carrying a large duffel she assumed held the stuff he and Michael would need for their disguises.
“Hey guys,” she said, moving forward to greet them. “The terrible twosome is upstairs. This way.”
“Are they still arguing about tonight?” Blaze asked as he and Emma trailed her.